Brown sophomore Alex Eisler has a lucrative side hustle selling restaurant reservations.
He vends them on nascent platform Appointment Trader.
Eisler told BI his most expensive sale was $1,358 for an omakase reservation in Boston.
Need more proof that the scalper and bot-fueled restaurant reservation-selling ecosystem has intensified to new heights?
Brown University student Alex Eisler has generated $105,000 in reservation sales since November 2022, when he joined Appointment Trader — an online marketplace that allows users to buy and sell restaurant reservations using an auction model.
Eisler — a sophomore studying applied math and computer science — told Business Insider he's always been a foodie, and first stumbled upon Appointment Trader while purchasing a reservation of his own at NYC steakhouse 4 Charles Prime Rib.
He then attempted to sell a few reservations on the platform procured through American Express-owned Resy and by calling restaurants personally. He had mixed success, he said, whereupon he said he started playing around with code and developed a bot to automate the process.
Eisler told Business Insider the most expensive reservation he's ever sold was $1,358 at an omakase restaurant in Boston. Business Insider verified the approved bid with a screenshot he provided. In New York City, he also recently banked $850 for a lunch table at Maison Close and $1,050 for a spot at Carbone, The New Yorker reported.
"It has never really been about the money for me," Eisler told BI. "I just wanted to bring supply and demand together."
It's worth noting that the $105,000 figure raked in was before Appointment Trader takes its fees, ranging from 20% to 30%, according to The New Yorker, which first covered Eisler's side hustle and the increasingly elusive task of going out to eat. He told the outlet he pocketed $70,000 last year.
Appointment Trader is just one platform helping to turn reservation-selling into a cottage industry of sorts.
Members-only platform Dorsia is another — but operates on a completely different business model, working in tandem with top restaurants to offer reservations in exchange for a guaranteed minimum spend.
Business Insider's Linette Lopez previously reported on New York's freshly gilded dining scene, with the emergence of apps like Resy gamifying the reservation experience and pitting elite diners against their more tech-savvy counterparts, who are hacking the system with bots.
That said, some restaurant owners are perturbed by how the space is evolving.
Bloomberg reported in October that sites like Resy and Tock — as well as the restaurants that they service — are attempting to crack down on bots by deactivating reseller accounts and creating teams dedicated to fraud.
The New Yorker noted bots and resellers prevent restaurants from collecting valuable customer data.
"It's bad for business," Eric Ripert, chef and co-owner of famed French seafood restaurant Le Bernardin, told The New Yorker. "Every day, we spend hours trying to track down the bots and the fake reservations … If you have tables that are no-shows, the profit of the night is done."
The Pentagon said it would "rush" Patriot air defense missiles to Ukraine.
The announcement comes as Russia targets Ukraine's energy infrastructure.
US Defense Secretary Lloyd Austin said that Patriot missiles would not be a "silver bullet."
The US will "rush" Patriot air defense missiles to Ukraine as part of a military aid package, Defense Secretary Lloyd Austin has said.
Speaking on Friday, Austin said that the US would send "critical interceptors" to Ukraine for its Patriot systems as part of a $6 billion deal.
Austin's comments come as Russia hit parts of Ukraine with a large missile strike on Friday, targeting energy facilities and power plants in several regions.
Russia launched a total of 34 missiles at Ukraine by air, ground, and sea, Mykola Oleshchuk, the head of Ukraine's air force, wrote on Telegram.
The barrage included Iskander ballistic missiles, Kh-59 cruise missiles, and ship-launched Kalibr missiles, among others, he added.
Ukrainian Energy Minister German Galushchenko wrote on Facebook that Russia had targeted facilities in the regions of Dnipropetrovsk, Ivano-Frankivsk, and Lviv, adding that there had been "damage to equipment."
DTEK, a power operator, said equipment at four of its thermal power plants was "severely damaged" in the attacks.
Austin warned against thinking of Patriot missiles as a "silver bullet" against such strikes, however.
"It's not just Patriots that they [the Ukrainians] need, they need other types of systems and interceptors as well," Austin said. "I would caution us all in terms of making Patriot the silver bullet."
The think tank the Institute for the Study of War said in an update on the conflict that while no single weapon could be thought of as a "silver bullet," the Patriot was "one of the very few air defense systems able to engage Russian ballistic missiles and also to hit Russian fighter-bombers outside the range of Russian glide bombs."
The report said Spain would deliver "a very limited number" of the missiles due to their high cost and because the country's war reserve was about only around 50 units.
Both the US and Spain decided not to send launchers for the Patriot system, however.
Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskyy has repeatedly called for allies to send more Patriot systems to Ukraine.
He said earlier this month that Ukraine needed "seven more Patriots or similar air defense systems" to defend its cities from Russian strikes.
"'Patriots' can only be called air defense systems if they work and save lives rather than standing immobile somewhere in storage bases," Zelenskyy added on X.
The author went to college while raising her kids.
Courtesy of William Lees
I decided to go to college at 40 when I was busy raising 5 children.
My schedule was chaos, and the kids had to skip some events because of my studies.
Years later, I got my degree and have created the career I always wanted, and my kids look up to me.
My college journey began at 40 years old when I enrolled in a community college.
Not only was I starting college later in life, but I was also doing it as a mother of five children — ages 8 to 14. I decided it was time to start my education again because I wanted to prove my father wrong. When I was young, he told me I wasn't smart enough to attend college. I finally had the confidence to give it a go and majored in English and communications. I wanted to prove to myself and my children I could do it.
As my schoolwork ramped up, my family obligations didn't let up. I was finally a student, but I was also the taxi driver, the laundress, the cook, the teacher, and the religious educator. I drove my children to three different schools each morning.
With the help of my husband, here's how I got my college degree and raised my kids.
My schedule was chaos for years
Motherhood is a full-time job, but I had to find a way to fit my classes and schoolwork into my week.
I quickly learned that coursework is performed more outside of class than in, so I had to make time for reading, studying, written work, and research papers. I included the children in my studies, sharing what I learned in the classroom at dinner or while driving them to activities. It helped me to understand if I explained the material to someone else.
I didn't realize most colleges began classes before the public school system started their school year, which only complicated things. Plus, my spring breaks didn't coincide with the children's school breaks either. I used a neighbor to keep the children company while I was in class.
Initially, I attended classes while my children were in school, praying no one got sick. Sometimes, I had a night course. Since my husband worked during the day, he was home at night. He took over helping the children in the evenings.
To make the schedule work, one thing had to go and that was cooking. I cooked only when absolutely necessary, which was on weekends. We reheated during the week or got pizza. Baking cookies and making bread as a family was a thing of the past for us.
I also had to say no to some of the children's activities. Sports, scouting events, and church functions disappeared. I just couldn't accomplish everything.
I had all my children help out around the house
From shopping and meal preparation to laundry and cleaning, everyone helped — regardless of their age. I had to discard those perfect housekeeping standards and just accept that my house wouldn't be perfect for a few years.
Whenever I did have to do something around the house, I multitasked. I recorded class notes on tapes and listened to them while doing laundry or preparing meals. When the children got tired of the recording, they left the room.
Food shopping became a family affair — performed only when the cupboards were almost bare. Since I used the time when the children were at school to attend classes and work on group projects with classmates, I had to go grocery shopping when they were all home. That meant they went with me to the store; it wasn't easy.
I'm glad it all worked out in the end
With the children growing up before my eyes, I decided to continue my education after community college. I earned a prestigious scholarship and enrolled at the University of Pennsylvania.
After 10 years, I earned my degree in English. I now write for magazines and anthologies and facilitate writing workshops.
Looking back, I can see my kids definitely looked up to me. They realized how I tried not to let my attending college interfere with family responsibility. For that, they are grateful, especially now that three of them are parents. And I helped all of them get into and excel in college.
I may have started college to help my children and to prove my father wrong, but I finished to help myself. I learned that college is worth the effort.
Marine One departs the South Lawn of the White House.
Official White House Photo by Carlos Fyfe
Presidents travel in helicopters that are called Marine One when carrying the president.
The aircraft feature extensive security measures and spacious, soundproof interiors.
Marine One often picks up the president from the South Lawn of the White House for shorter trips.
US presidents travel in style with secure, state-of-the-art vehicles such as Air Force One and the bulletproof presidential limousine known as "The Beast."
Marine One, the presidential helicopter, is another such mode of transportation. With spacious, soundproof interiors, advanced defense systems, and a landing zone on the White House lawn, the white-topped helicopters are often the most convenient way for presidents to get from place to place.
Take a look inside the Marine One models used by modern presidents.
Similar to Air Force One, any Marine Corps aircraft carrying the president of the United States uses the call sign Marine One.
Marine One lands at Joint Base Andrews in Maryland.
Official White House Photo by Adam Schultz
President Dwight Eisenhower was the first president to fly in a helicopter in an official capacity in 1957, according to the US Naval Institute.
The helicopter is equipped with extensive security measures.
President Joe Biden boards Marine One in Seoul, South Korea.
Official White House Photo by Adam Schultz
Marine One features antimissile countermeasures, ballistic armor, secure communication lines, and radar-jamming technology.
In case of a crash, it also has self-sealing fuel tanks and energy-absorbing landing gear to help prevent fires and extensive damage.
The president always flies with at least one other decoy Marine One as additional protection.
Marine One carrying President Joe Biden and a decoy helicopter lift off from Joint Base Andrews in Maryland.
JULIA NIKHINSON/AFP via Getty Images
There can be up to five Marine One helicopters flying at one time to obscure the president's exact location, according to the George W. Bush Presidential Library. The helicopters also frequently change positions after takeoff to make it harder to determine which one the president is on.
Marine One travels abroad with the president, as well.
President Joe Biden greets the pilots of Marine One.
Official White House Photo by Adam Schultz
Military cargo aircraft transport Marine One helicopters abroad and remain on standby at local airports in case of emergency during foreign visits, according to the US Naval Institute.
Marine One can fit between 11 and 14 passengers, depending on the model.
President Barack Obama meets with staffers aboard Marine One.
Official White House photo by Pete Souza
A Black Hawk model called the VH-60N White Hawk can fit 11 passengers, and the Sikorsky VH-3D Sea King helicopters can fit 14, according to the George W. Bush Presidential Library. Both are used as presidential transports.
Presidents often meet with staffers aboard Marine One.
President Barack Obama talks with Chief of Staff Bill Daley, Treasury Secretary Timothy Geithner, and National Security Advisor Tom Donilon aboard Marine One.
Official White House Photo by Pete Souza
The helicopter is so soundproof that passengers can speak at a normal volume.
Marine One also includes perks like 200 square feet of interior space and a bathroom.
It's also used to transport the president for shorter trips to places like Camp David and Joint Base Andrews in Maryland to board Air Force One.
The South Portico of the White House is seen from aboard Marine One as it approaches the South Lawn.
Official White House Photo by Pete Souza
Flying across Washington, DC, in a helicopter is more efficient than snarling traffic in a presidential motorcade.
Marine One picks the president up on the South Lawn of the White House.
Marine One, carrying President Donald J. Trump, lifts off from the South Lawn of the White House.
Official White House Photo by Joyce N. Boghosian
Two newer Sikorsky VH-92A Patriot models built by Lockheed Martin debuted in 2021 with the goal of eventually replacing the older Marine One helicopters. Each new aircraft cost $218 million, CT Insider reported.
Bloomberg reported that the new Sikorsky helicopters are no longer in regular use because the engines kept burning the White House lawn.
Upon boarding and landing, the president is greeted by Marines wearing the Marine Blue Dress uniform.
President Donald Trump boards Marine One.
Official White House Photo by Shealah Craighead
President Barack Obama sparked controversy in 2013 when he seemingly forgot to return a Marine's salute and doubled back to shake his hand while boarding Marine One, NPR reported.
However, while Army personnel in uniform are required to salute the president, the president doesn't have to return the gesture. The New York Times reported that President Ronald Reagan was the first president to start returning soldiers' salutes in 1981.
The aircraft is stocked with water bottles and snacks including boxes of presidential M&Ms.
President Barack Obama reads a morning newspaper aboard Marine One.
Official White House photo by Pete Souza
The president's seat is the only forward-facing captain's chair on the aircraft aside from the seats occupied by the pilot and copilot, The Points Guy reported.
After his first ride in Marine One in 2009, Obama said that the helicopter was "very smooth" and "very impressive."
"You go right over the Washington Monument and then, you know, kind of curve in by the Capitol," he said. "It was spectacular."
Blanca Barragan during the construction of the shed micro-home in her backyard.
Courtesy of Blanca Barragan
Blanca Barragan rents out rooms in her home for extra income, earning $55,780 since 2019.
In 2023, she began building an accessory dwelling unit in her yard and moved into it in April.
Renting out her entire main home, she's saving hundreds every month, with plans to buy more homes.
This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Blanca Barragan, a 42-year-old electrician, who completed construction of an accessory dwelling unit she built in her front yard and moved into in April. The essay has been edited for length and clarity.
I bought my home in Sacramento seven years ago for $150,000; it's small, 583 square feet. Even back then, there weren't many available in the city at that low of a price.
At the time, almost all of the homes on my block were abandoned, and there were many empty lots. When I bought my home, it looked like it was falling apart; everybody was telling me I shouldn't buy it and instead wait until I could buy something in a better neighborhood.
Things have changed a lot since then. They've remodeled all the houses in my neighborhood and have built homes on the empty lots.
I fixed up my home with the help of Habitat for Humanity and by 2019 I began house hacking.
My home was meant to have two bedrooms and one bathroom. But I sacrificed my master bedroom and converted it into a separate micro studio that I now rent out.
I also got very creative and turned the pantry area into a room, and another room in my house that was supposed to be an office, into a bedroom. Additionally, I repurposed a 120-square-foot shed into a micro studio.
A silhouette of the shed micro-home Barragan added to her Sacramento property.
Courtesy of Blanca Barragan
Over the last four years, I've made $55,780 from renting out the micro studios in my home. The money I've made has helped me buy my eldest son a $360,000 house that I'm also the co-mortgage owner of, and qualify for a loan to add an ADU to my property.
In April, I moved into the ADU with my youngest son. Living there while renting out the main house is saving me about $2,200 each month. I plan to use that money to buy more properties.
The grant approval process was pretty straightforward
I always wanted to buy another house but knew I couldn't afford it. Instead, I decided to expand my existing property since I had a huge front yard and my home was pretty small.
I told all of my friends about my dream to build an additional house on my lot. One of them sent me an advertisement for CalHFA's ADU grant program that gives eligible Californians $40,000 to cover blueprints, permits, and closing costs to build an ADU on their property.
In 2022, I began the process of getting approved for the CalHFA's ADU grant, which was pretty easy.
The advertisement I was sent explained all the steps I needed to take and also provided a list of lenders that could work with me. This is because, to qualify for the grant, you have to simultaneously qualify for a traditional loan for the ADU.
Because I couldn't find someone who would finance the ADU separately — those loans were way too expensive for me — I chose to refinance my existing mortgage with Envoy Mortgage.
An empty lot where the ADU would be built.
Courtesy of Blanca Barragan
My lender contacted Anchored Tiny Homes for a cost breakdown of the project, which was about $30,000, including pricing for permits and a blueprint. They then submitted those numbers plus their closing cost estimates to CalHFA to obtain the grant. I was approved and the $40,000 grant was sent directly to my lender, which approved my new mortgage.
Because the property value continued to increase each year since buying my home in 2017, I refinanced my 30-year fixed mortgage a few times before I started my ADU project. So I now have 28 years left on a $460,000 loan at a 4.8% mortgage rate that includes my existing home and the ADU.
I moved into the ADU — it's saving me hundreds monthly
Construction for my ADU began in April 2023 and took a year and eight months and was completed just about three weeks ago. It has two bedrooms and one big bathroom.
Overall, it cost $220,000 to build, which was higher than I anticipated. I had expected the closing costs to be around $5,000 to $6,000, but they ended up being almost $30,000. I believe they were higher because the lender had to oversee the contractor's work and administer the loan throughout the construction process.
Although I received the $40,000 grant, I had to borrow the rest of the money from my lender. As a result, my mortgage, including my main house and ADU, increased by $1,500 a month — from $1,200 to $2,700.
Barragan's fully constructed ADU.
Courtesy of Blanca Barragan.
There are two renters living in the main property and my son and I moved into the ADU. (The little shed that I was previously renting out had to be torn down when I built the ADU.)
The main home's primary bedroom — the one I turned into a micro studio — is renting for $875. I'm charging the other tenant for the remainder of the house $1,305. Living in the ADU with my son, I only pay $520 of the $2,700 mortgage. The tenants cover the rest.
I love living in my ADU, and my son likes it a lot too. Everything is clean, white, and brand new, including our dishwasher, washing machine, and dryer.
Everyone is searching for affordable housing, even my family. That's why I had the idea of sacrificing living in a larger space and moving into a small one.
I like to know I'm helping people, and if anyone in my family ever needs to move somewhere in an emergency, I have housing for them.
The kitchen of Barragan's ADU.
Courtesy of Blanca Barragan
I had zero extra dollars when I started this project, I just sketched it out and put it on paper. Building this ADU is beautiful to me because I now feel like anything I dream can happen.
The whole thing has impacted my children's, friends', and neighbors' lives because they all saw it happen out of nothing.
I have developed a lot of big dreams because of this: I wrote a 20-page booklet to teach others how to build an ADU, and I'm already thinking about the next property I want to buy.
There's only one person to blame for Tesla's shambolic state and only one person whose exit could save the company: Elon Musk.
Steve Granitz/FilmMagic via Getty Images; Tesla; Alyssa Powell/BI
Tesla is on the brink again. Sales are slowing even after the company slashed prices. The company is laying off 10% of its workforce — 14,000 workers from Shanghai to San Jose, from the factory floor to the executive suite. The company had to recall every single Cybertruck it shipped. And Tesla's position in China, a country that has become critical to its future, is getting shakier.
There's only one person to blame for the company's shambolic state and only one person whose exit could save Tesla: Elon Musk. For the past few years, Tesla has looked unstoppable, but during those high times, Musk failed to implement any strategy that would insulate the company from what has become a violent global electric-vehicle price war. The company is incinerating cash, losing market share, and holding more aging inventory than ever before.
Tesla reported its first-quarter earnings on Tuesday and missed expectations across the board, even though Wall Street was already expecting the worst. Earnings per share came in at $0.45, lower than analysts' expectations of $0.52. Free cash flow fell a stunning 674% as Tesla focused on AI research and making capital improvements. Gross profit fell 18% from the same time a year ago, and gross margins fell from 19.3% to 17.4% over the same period. If Tesla the company were a car, this is when you start to hear it make a rattling sound.
The company's problem isn't a matter of getting through "production hell" or "delivery hell" on a new model, which Tesla has been able to survive. Hell is, at the very least, a location. Tesla's problem is that it has no clear direction. It doesn't matter how much cash a company has on hand if it's blowing it on products that aren't ready to scale — like a robotaxi. Or cars that no one wants — like its dated models.
Musk seems to understand at least that much: For years, Tesla has teased the development of the Model 2 — a $25,000 Tesla for the everyman. This is the car the market wants, and a Reuters report from earlier this month that the Model 2 was being scrapped (which Musk denied) sent the stock into a tailspin. Given this clear signal from investors, the company pivoted and announced in its earnings release that it planned to speed up production of "new and more affordable products" to early 2025. Wall Street ate this up: in spite of the miserable results, Tesla's stock has gained nearly 20% since the earnings announcement and analysts were falling over themselves to praise the news. It's like people have never seen this play from Musk before, but anyone who's been following Tesla knows we have.
Musk is notorious for delivering so late that any sort of timelines are to be taken with a grain of salt. Even Musk's most loyal shareholders — like Ross Gerber of investment firm Gerber Kawasaki — were dubious. In an interview with Bloomberg on Tuesday after Tesla's report, Gerber said that he "can't rely" on what the company says about timelines anymore. In the company's post-earnings conference call, Musk only mentioned vague plans for speeding up the production process and spent more time talking about his far-off vision for an Uber-like robotaxi fleet.
"I'd say at least eight to nine years before they get a robotaxi working," Tu Le, the founder of the electric-vehicle consultancy Sino Auto Insights, told me in a recent interview. "I think they'd argue that they already made it. But I'm thinking about the best-case scenario. And I'm being very optimistic.
Being late wasn't a problem when Tesla was the only company making good EVs, but that's not the case anymore. Musk does not have eight or nine years to save Tesla, and making vague promises to deliver a new car that the market actually wants — while appealing to Wall Street — does not relieve the pressures the company is facing now. On one side of the world, competitors in China can make cars at a much lower cost. On the other side, legacy automakers are leaning on their combustion-engine and hybrid car sales to make it through the slowdown in demand for electric cars. If the Chinese market is a rock, then Western markets are a hard place. Tesla is caught in between. The company needs a serious leader with practical ideas — no self-driving gimmicks, no blowtorches, no broken Cybertrucks, no shitposting, no video-game marathons, and no casual ketamine use. Basically, no Elon. It needs a singularly focused, ruthlessly productive leader who can deliver the Model 2 — without copious delays.
On Tuesday, Musk addressed the recent round of layoffs by saying that Tesla needed to restructure itself for a "new phase of growth." He's right about that, the carmaker does need a major shake-up — starting with him.
What did Musk do with those glory days? He sold a bunch of his Tesla stock to buy Twitter, tried to get out of the deal, and then was forced to go through with it. He blew up some rockets (to be fair, some also made it to space). He implanted a brain chip into a bunch of monkeys. He brought a kitchen sink to work and added a few more CEO jobs to his plate. He publicly bungled Gov. Ron DeSantis' attempt to launch a presidential campaign. At Tesla, Musk delivered about 4,000 Cybertrucks — every one of which has been recalled for faulty acceleration — while frittering away any goodwill the company has with its core customers.
What I'm saying is that as much as Tesla accomplished in the past few years, it's clear Musk should've spent more time with it. Tesla failed to craft a strategy for chaotic times in what is still clearly a nascent EV industry. Sure, the company has been on a multiyear campaign to get lean and cut costs, but that strategy isn't enough to balance out price cuts, weak demand, and the need for major capital expenditures to get through this period of fleet stagnation.
Tesla failed to craft a strategy for chaotic times in what is still clearly a nascent EV industry.
A true visionary CEO — which Musk has long claimed to be — would have pressed the advantage that Tesla developed in the EV market. They would've done research to try to understand what EV demand would look like after early adopters bought cars. They'd know what kinds of buyers would enter the market at that stage and which kinds of cars those buyers would want. A true visionary CEO would meet those customers where they are. Back in November, I spoke with Navdeep Sodhi, a pricing analyst at Sodhi Pricing Associates, who told me that Tesla should advertise to educate the public about the cost benefits of its cars, like savings on gas. Advertising could have also helped assuage concerns about issues like range anxiety. This month, Tesla laid off its entire marketing team.
For years analysts warned Musk that competition was coming, not just from legacy automakers but from the very Chinese market that fostered Tesla's success. Beijing has a pattern of supporting Western companies in China's markets in order to foster competition, then, once China-based rivals are able to catch up, tipping the scales in favor of homegrown companies. Add in the fact that Beijing has cornered nearly every aspect of the battery supply chain — from mining and refining metals to manufacturing the batteries themselves — which has helped China's EV makers to churn out models at price points as low as four figures. The new options have put Tesla on the back foot in one of its most important markets: Tesla's share of China's car market shrank to 6.7% in the fourth quarter of 2023 from 10.3% at the beginning of the year.
To maintain its lead, Tesla should have been singularly focused on building the Model 2 — moving down the pricing scale to where there were more customers. But it stopped innovating, the Model 2 hasn't materialized, and Musk's realization that the company needs to actually deliver on a Tesla-for-the-people may be coming too late. Instead of boosting sales with an impressive or accessible new option, Tesla has tried to goose demand by erratically lowering the prices of its existing models to increase volume. This has not worked as planned: automotive revenue fell 13% from the same time last year, according to Tuesday's earnings release, and gross margins in the automotive division fell to 14.8% from 18% a year before.
Tesla has always been a "growth" company, the up-and-coming player taking on the legacy automakers. But now the company has entered a new stage of development — it's a large, mature firm, and continuing to grow requires larger amounts of capital, discipline, and focus. There was never a moment for Musk to rest on his laurels, but after 2020 Tesla started to look less like a place where Musk was constantly innovating and more like a place where Musk sourced cash to do whatever else he wanted with his life. Maybe he got bored, or maybe he got distracted — either way, Musk stopped pushing the envelope at Tesla way too early.
During the conference call, Musk had a million excuses for why this quarter was so poor — Houthi agitation in the Red Sea, an arson in Berlin, updates at the Fremont Factory. He asserted that Tesla was not a car company but rather an AI robotics company. He spoke ad nauseam about turning Tesla into a self-driving Uber service but refused to answer any questions about the Model 2. Look over here. Look over there. Pay no attention to exactly how we're going to deliver his cheaper car. Wall Street has fallen for this before, and it's becoming embarrassing that it has fallen for it again — especially at a time when Tesla and the EV market are in such a different position.
Forget growth — now the company that should have been America's EV juggernaut needs to figure out survival.
The gestures toward actually producing the Model 2 drove a post-earnings stock pop, but given Musk's years of distraction and myriad projects, shareholders should be more concerned that he may fritter away Tesla's resources on something else — whether that's an AI that can copy his voice, turning X into a dating app for libertarians, or building another vanity clown car. If the Model 2 doesn't come ASAP, it's tantamount to Tesla waving the white flag in the global EV wars for the foreseeable future. Forget growth — now the company that should have been America's EV juggernaut needs to figure out survival.
When Musk entered the EV Thunderdome, Tesla was the only game in town, interest rates were at 0%, and most of the country was convinced he was Iron Man. Since then, China has become an EV power player, legacy automakers have been trying to get a cut of the action, debt has become more expensive, and half the country has started to think Musk is Lex Luthor. Things have changed, and Tesla's leadership needs to change along with them or get left behind.
Linette Lopez is a senior correspondent at Business Insider.
This reporter decided to cut the app out of her life — and saw some improvements.
NurPhoto
A Gen Z reporter decided to delete the TikTok app from her phone.
The addictive nature of the app's algorithm led to wasted hours on mindless content.
The reporter is still trying to figure out whether she wants to return to TikTok.
Watching that white musical note disappear from my iPhone screen was more satisfying than any ASMR video I could ever watch.
After a few years of spending about 7 hours a week on arguably the trendiest app of the 2020s, I decided it was time to say goodbye to TikTok — although I'm unsure if it will be a permanent decision.
I created my TikTok account at the pandemic's start while stuck at home with nothing to do.And while the past four years have been filled with thousands of videos I will never remember again, TikTok has made me and my thumb very weary over the past few months.
Two weeks ago, I decided to log out to give my thumbs a break, and so far, it's felt like heaven.
Why I quit
It's not just me: TikTok's audience is no longer growing like it was a few years ago. Business Insider's Alistair Barr posited that young people were growing up and taking on more responsibilities, and TikTok was hindering their productivity.
A supporting statistic is that the app's average monthly users between 18 and 24 declined by nearly 9% in the US from 2022 to 2023, The Wall Street Journal reported recently, citing analytics firm Data.ai.
What was true for me, at least, was that TikTok took hours away from my day. I started thinking about what I could be doing instead: working out, planning future trips, getting better at my hobbies — literally anything else.
However, my addiction may also be a consequence of my job: I report on trends and feel pressure to stay current.
On TikTok, there's been a long-running joke that users of the Zuckerberg-owned TikTok knockoff, Instagram Reels, are always behind on what's cool because whatever you see trending on Reels went out of fashion weeks ago on TikTok.
TikTok videos also frequently drive the discussion on Elon Musk's app X. I learned about this glycine meme after every Gen Z on Earth because I got it from Twitter, not TikTok.
The addicting nature of the app's finely tuned algorithm, analyzed and written about for years, also hooked me. Top Wall Street analysts once compared it to crack cocaine. Although I don't have experience smoking crack, I did find it hard to stay off the app when it was easily accessible.
Before deciding to delete, I spent 1-2 hours a day scrolling through my feed, gleaning so much information about nothing that mattered. Despite being painfully aware that another cute dog video would not materially improve my life, I would keep mindlessly moving on to the next clip.
So, after a particularly aggressive scroll sesh, I decided I had seen the embarrassing reminder asking me to limit my screen time one too many times and unceremoniously relegated TikTok to the app graveyard.
A better work-life balance
Other Gen Z TikTok addicts who spoke to the Journal shared similar concerns.
20-something Keilah Bruce told the Journal she neglected chores like laundry and dishes to scroll on TikTok. Another, Gautam Mengi, a film student, saw his grades freefall, and he couldn't even take out the trash without the app open.
Luckily, it never got that bad for me, but I never had time for hobbies. I told myself I wanted to start working out more, get back to reading more books on my newly purchased Kindle, and add the final stitches to my many unfinished embroidery projects. But TikTok wouldn't let me.
You may expect a dramatic story about me struggling to fill my time and desperately longing to return to TikTok after deleting the app, but that wasn't the case. I only tried to log on once because a friend sent me a post. It helped that I had forgotten my password and didn't feel like retrieving it.
And I would never want to make a new account and retrain the algorithm. It's like getting out of a long-term relationship — what I had with my original algorithm was real, and I couldn't just jump into something new.
TikTok dupes — like Reels or YouTube Shorts — are not satisfactory replacements. I do find myself scrolling through them for a few minutes a day to get that fix, though.
And if I need to look up information on TikTok, like an influencer's contact information, I limit myself to an account I exclusively use on my work laptop.
Now I do fun things, like go outside and touch grass. I even encountered a rattlesnake on a hike last week (not as fun). Doing these things is even more enjoyable than watching them. Who would've thought? But perhaps most importantly, my overall mental health improved: I don't have that post-scroll regret that makes me feel crappy about spending hours of my life I will never get back.
Will I return?
The choice to return to TikTok may be taken from me anyway, as a potential ban looms, but I'm divided on whether I even want to rejoin the app.
However, it is also full of hate speech and trolls, and I would argue that the comments can be just as toxic as X at times. I've found that avoiding an endless stream of transphobia, fatphobia, and ableism is good for the soul.
So, for now, I'm off the app — at least until I learn some self-control.
TikTok did not respond to a request for comment from Business Insider.
Russia defeating Ukraine could spark chaos and slam the global economy, Jamie Dimon said.
The JPMorgan CEO said a Putin victory could fuel a nuclear arms race and trigger more battles.
Dimon warned US-China tensions and wars in Europe and the Middle East threaten the world order.
A Russian victory in Ukraine could throw the world into disarray, transform the global economy, and trigger nuclear proliferation and further conflicts, Jamie Dimon warned.
Dimon emphasized that Russia has invaded a free, democratic nation and threatened nuclear war to deter resistance.
"We've never had nuclear blackmail before, which is also teaching the whole world that maybe having nuclear weapons is a pretty good thing because people will be afraid of you — you can abuse a neighbor if you feel like it," he said.
The boss of America's biggest bank cautioned that if Russia conquers Ukraine, other countries may question whether they can rely on the US to defend them from military assaults, or to have their back on the "economic battlefield," Dimon said.
Governments worldwide will reassess the security of their food, energy, and other critical resources, and might decide to partner with other countries, he added.
"I'm a little worried that if Russia wins that war, you're going to see the world enter a little bit of chaos as people realign alliances and economic relationships."
The billionaire banker has been sounding the alarm on the tumultuous global environment for a while.
"The geopolitical situation is probably the most complicated and dangerous since World War II," he told the Economic Club of New York this week, adding that the world order is being "challenged."
In his annual letter to JPMorgan shareholders this month, Dimon pointed to the wars raging in Ukraine and the Middle East, the US and China clashing over issues like trade, and the recent spike in terrorist attacks as evidence that a historically "treacherous" era may have begun.
In a September interview, Dimon flagged the Russia-Ukraine war as the greatest threat to the world, and said countries were worrying about relying on other countries for everything from food and energy to microchips and rare-earth metals.
He added that the battle could be an "inflection point for the free democratic world," and said there's "no playbook" for navigating the current geopolitical melee.
After moving from New York to South Dakota, the author says she and her daughter have more access to nature, but miss cultural diversity.
Courtesy of the author
I lived in New York for most of my life and last year I decided to move to South Dakota.
We have more access and closeness to nature now.
I do miss the cultural diversity that New York had to offer.
Last year, I decided to leave New York, where I lived for most of my life. In September I packed up and got on a plane to fly to the area I fell in love with a few years earlier when I visited. This is how I ended up in the flyover Midwest part of the country — South Dakota — and I love it.
South Dakota is beautifully different. After six months of living here there are some things I miss about my life back East. But there are also things here that my daughter and I would not have had the privilege to experience had we not moved.
I miss living near water
For all the great things South Dakota offers, large bodies of water are not on that list. There are rivers and lakes here, but they are far less grand. There are no beaches that have un-ending sand for all the castles that a toddler can build. I must travel a substantial distance to reach the banks of any significant body of water, whether it's the Missouri River or any of the lakes in Minnesota.
On the East Coast, you are never far away from a day at the beach or a stroll on a boardwalk — something my daughter and I used to do daily. Every evening, we walked our dog and indulged in the waterfront community along with everything it offers — the scenery, the sandy beaches, the yachts, boat trips, impromptu performers, outdoor cafés, and all the other daily buzz of shoreside living.
But we have more access to nature now
New York City and its surrounding areas are densely populated, leaving little room for nature. What does exist is highly curated and manicured. Many parks enforce a "look but don't touch" policy for certain areas, while those allowing lawn access are flooded with people. Surrounding counties do not provide much of a solution either, as most of the nature is fenced in by backyards and private lawns. That's just what you get when you have to accommodate so many people. To truly disconnect and have an opportunity to explore nature, I had to research and prepare for long day trips.
Nature here is less curated and more accessible. Parks are protected as wild zones rather than meticulously manicured gardens, fostering a more symbiotic relationship with nature and wildlife. Nature takes up more space and gives more opportunities for roaming and exploring.
We dig for earthworms in the playground mulch. We stumble on turkeys and pheasants when we're walking our dogs. We play in the muddy banks of brooks and streams. My daughter climbs rocks and scrapes her knees without a second thought, and it's beautiful. For her, more time spent in nature unlocked new levels of confidence, curiosity, and desire to explore.
I miss cultural diversity and its food
New York is unlike anywhere else when it comes to cultural diversity. Taking advantage of that, every Friday I used to find a new food or experience for my daughter and I to try. It was my way of expanding her horizons.
There are some hidden gems in South Dakota as well, but they are nothing compared to what you can find in the New York City area. There are Ethiopian, Indian, Greek, and even Mongolian restaurants here, but they are extremely limited, and sometimes you're stuck with mediocre versions of vibrant foods from immigrant communities back east.
There's more focus on family here but I miss my friends
New York is a great playground for adults — there are a lot of unique experiences. For kids — not so much. That's not to say there aren't any, but the expectation for a lot of the activities is that you leave your kids behind. This creates challenges as a newly single mom being relegated only to kid-friendly spaces. There is a hunger for adult connections and friendships that are a lot harder to make as a parent.
Here, the environment makes it easier. Places are a lot more co-mingled between adult and child-friendly experiences. The area is a lot more family-friendly, and as a result, I can get out and find fulfillment and excitement while still giving my daughter room to be a kid. Places that cater to adults have kid sections, and if they don't, people are a lot more understanding because it is a lot more likely they are parents themselves. There is a more communal understanding that we are all in this together.
That said, I moved to an area where I knew no one, and that comes at the cost of leaving it all behind. To say I miss the community that was built around me is an understatement. These are the same people who saw me and my daughter nearly daily. I wish I could invite them over and chatter over a cup of coffee, but we are a thousand miles away, and that is bittersweet.
Making friends as an adult is harder, even more so in a car-centric community. But that has forced me to really step out of my comfort zone and get involved — both for my daughter and me.
What we gained: a sustainable cost of living
New York is expensive. The Midwest is not. For me, as a single parent it is a lot more manageable, and I can spend more on giving my daughter quality experiences and resources.
In New York, everything costs a pretty penny, and I needed to be very careful in balancing the budget. There was a lot of window shopping for entertainment that wasn't always affordable. It would be nice to go to a museum or a toddler class every weekend, but spending $30 and possibly more when you count food and add-on activities quickly overtakes any budget that I had.
At the end of the day, I love that I have moved. New York was great and offered me lots of opportunities, but in the era of mom-hood, Midwest fits us better.
Andy "Andersin" Collins participating in the Windy City Valorant Open at Belong Gaming Arena in Schaumberg, IL.
Courtesy of Holly Clemens
Andy Collins is a Valorant esports athlete in its Challengers League.
An esports collegiate scholarship paid for most of his undergraduate and master's degrees.
After working from 8 am to 5 pm, he practices and strategizes with his team for four hours.
This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Andy Collins, a 26-year-old software engineer from Chicago pursuing a professional esports career playing the first-person shooting game Valorant. It has been edited for length and clarity.
Decades ago, it seemed like every American child wanted to become an astronaut after seeing the United States' rapid progress in the space race.
My aspirations were a little bit different. As a kid, I grew up playing video games with my dad, later moving on to playing Counter-Strike: Global Offensive, a globally popular first-person shooter where I competed online with friends.
It didn't take a man to walk on the moon to convince me of my future in high school. But when I started seeing people making a living playing video games professionally in high school? That was my astronaut moment. That's when I knew I wanted to compete at the highest level.
With a clear goal, I set my sights on improving my skills within the game, eventually receiving a scholarship to play for Robert Morris University. Being a professional esports competitor wasn't the most well-known or traditional career path at the time. My friends didn't really seem to care that much until the streaming platform, Twitch, grew in popularity, and with it, interest in competitive esports.
Being on a collegiate roster, I always had to perform at my best, even with a grueling schedule. I would've lost valuable scholarship money if I had been demoted from the starting roster.
Thankfully, that didn't happen, and I graduated in 2019 with a degree in computer network and security and a master's degree in information systems.
Taking the next step
After graduating, I started working as a software developer at a virtual reality gaming company. I played some on the side, but I was quickly losing interest in Counter-Strike, the game I'd spent thousands of hours trying to perfect.
Riot Games released Valorant in 2020 as the company's entry into the first-person tactical shooter games, which reignited my drive to compete.
I had an incredible boss who understood that drive and supported me, allowing me to work on a non-traditional schedule as long as I accomplished all necessary tasks.
The grind paid off, and in mid-2021, I was signed as a player to pro esports organization DarkZero's first Valorant roster, finally living out my dream on a professional team.
Valorant has only been out for four years, but its professional esports scene is rapidly growing in popularity.
Riot Games
But the esports world is fickle— you've got maybe two weeks of bad performances before your team axes you from the lineup or roster. After about nine months on the team, DarkZero decided to go a different route with its roster and booted me from the team.
The harsh realities
No longer on the DarkZero team, I now live in Austin and work remotely as a network and software engineer for my old virtual reality gaming job's parent company in Chicago.
I haven't made it back to the paid, franchised division of Valorant esports just yet — I'm living off my $75,000 salary for now — but I am still competing, now in Valorant's Challengers League under the team "Thinking Men."
Money in esports is a tricky subject.
In 2023, the vast majority of the North American Challengers League — the group of teams competing for an opportunity to ascend to the top tier franchised division — were signed to paying contracts by organizations like FaZe Clan, The Guard, or OR Esports. That's no longer the case. Many teams and players are either unpaid or paid less than minimum wage, leading players to point fingers and try to figure out the culprit.
And sure, while some of Valorant's highest-earning players make 6-to-7 figures each year between their contracts, endorsement deals, and lucrative streaming, that's simply not the norm. In the most-esteemed franchised league in Valorant, the floor of player salaries is $60,000.
My time with DarkZero was before Riot Games introduced franchising to its leagues, meaning that floor wasn't even there. I only made around $48,000 with the team, but it was enough to live off of.
I know it's controversial, but I feel like a lot of the players who are speaking out about low pay would rather complain than work a few hours a day Ubering, bartending, working for DoorDash, Starbucks, or any other part-time position.
If you're going to justify investing 10 hours of your day playing the game, you need to find some other way of making it profitable, like streaming or individually coaching players.
Many of these young esports athletes are coasting off their savings or burying themselves in debt trying to make it onto the stage at a Riot Games-organized event, just as I did after DarkZero.
Taking a little bit of time off from the game each day to earn rent money probably wouldn't even affect their in-game performance. Even though I'm playing far fewer hours per day than before — I only spend around four hours after work each day playing other teams and strategizing for my weekly matches — I'm in my best-ever form.
That wasn't always the case, though. Over the course of my esports career, I've gained the discipline to be able to acknowledge all of the factors that I can control and optimize them as best I can.
When I was teamless last year, I had all of the time in the world to improve but didn't have an ounce of discipline. I've now realized discipline is the biggest factor when juggling getting better in-game while working an 8 a.m. to 5 p.m. job and still trying to get in bed by 11 p.m. each night.
After years of competing, this is the first time where I don't care what the results are. If my team wins, or we get relegated or stay in for the rest of the season, none of it actually really matters to me.
I'm not afraid of getting dropped and I'm not afraid of having to restart. I love competing, so I'm going to keep on doing it and be the best I can be.
Are you a professional esports athlete and want to share your story? Email Madison Hall at mhall@businessinsider.com.