I grew up in Lithuania's capital, Vilnius, a walkable city with a vibrant culture and nightlife.
I think Lithuania is a place where the young can truly thrive, and I miss living there.
Although often overlooked in favor of its larger European neighbors, Lithuania has emerged as a top destination for young people seeking a higher quality of life.
As someone who was born and raised in Lithuania's capital city, Vilnius, I can attest to the country's unique appeal and why it stands out as an ideal place for the younger generation.
For starters, Lithuania offers free university education to a large portion of its population — by comparison, a university education can leave graduates in six figures of debt in places like the US.
Although I moved out of Vilnius 10 years ago to pursue career opportunities in London, I visit home often. My most recent visit to Lithuania lasted nearly a month and only reaffirmed my love for the country and its capital.
The walkable capital city is filled with beauty and culture
Vilnius has a vibrant cultural scene.
Eduardo Fonseca Arraes/Getty Images
Vilnius is not only beautiful but also incredibly walkable and easy to navigate. It's so compact that you can easily get around on foot or by bike, which can be rented for just a few euros.
As you wander through the streets, you'll discover a diverse array of art, culture, and nature, with numerous historic monuments in the heart of the city.
One standout is Gediminas' Castle Tower, a historic fortress on top of the hill in the middle of the old town. From its vantage point, you can take in a breathtaking, panoramic skyline view of red roofs stretching as far as the eye can see. We're really proud of our red roofs in the old town — and even have a song about it!
Streets are lined with local shops selling unique souvenirs, adding to the city's charming and inviting atmosphere.
People here are proud of their culture, and I often see local grandmas selling handmade amber jewelry. Many locals believe amber has healing powers, and it's popular to wear it around here.
The culture is rich, too. During my last visit, I stumbled upon a street festival where local bands and musicians performed live music around the city.
It also has great food and nightlife
Vilnius's culinary scene is vibrant, with a wide variety of dining options, from traditional Lithuanian dishes to international cuisine.
Local favorites like cepelinai (potato dumplings) and šaltibarščiai (cold beetroot soup) are not to be missed.
Lithuania's nightlife scene is also diverse, catering to a wide range of tastes and preferences. Whether you're into techno clubs or laid-back jazz bars, there's always something happening in the city after dark.
The bars, clubs, and social venues in Vilnius are always buzzing with energy.
In the summer, numerous outdoor spaces are created to host all sorts of events, further adding to the area's lively atmosphere. I miss these spaces a lot and have yet to find something like this in London, even though it's a major city.
Lithuania offers a unique and enriching experience that's hard to find elsewhere
Lithuania's blend of vibrant culture and excellent education opportunities makes it an attractive destination for young people.
Loreta Parapijankaite
As someone who has seen both the fast-paced life of London and the charming tranquility of Vilnius, I can confidently say that Lithuania is a place where the young can truly thrive.
I love its wonderful sense of community and frequently find myself longing for the charm and tranquility of my homeland — especially when flights from London to Vilnius sometimes get as cheap as a few pounds.
A woman was said to have accused Elon Musk of asking her to have his babies while she reported to him.
Sources told The Wall Street Journal that the SpaceX employee declined and was denied a raise.
Musk shares twins with a Neuralink exec, and a SpaceX flight attendant once accused him of sexual misconduct.
Elon Musk was said to have asked a SpaceX employee who reported to him to have his babies.
The Wall Street Journal cited unnamed sources familiar with the matter as saying that the employee left the company in 2013 and then accused Musk of having asked her more than once to have his babies.
The Journal said that the woman declined the offer and that her working relationship with Musk ultimately deteriorated, with sources saying Musk also denied her a raise.
The SpaceX employee received an exit package valued above $1 million when she left the company, the Journal said, citing a person familiar with the agreement.
Elon Musk and Tesla did not immediately respond to requests for comment made outside normal working hours.
It is not the first time SpaceX and Musk have come under scrutiny over the treatment of female employees.
Seven former employees accused SpaceX executives of joking about sexual harassment and firing workers for raising concerns, according to civil-rights complaints reported by Bloomberg earlier this year, and in 2021, another former SpaceX engineer published an essay accusing the company of fostering an environment "rife with sexism."
The cabin crew member, who worked on one of the company's private jets, accused Musk of exposing himself to her and offering to buy her a horse in exchange for an erotic massage, according to interviews and documents obtained by BI.
Christopher Stroup (left), Madelyn Driver (center), and Abid Salahi (right), are six-figure earners who feel far from "rich."
Christopher Stroup (left), Madelyn Driver (center), and Abid Salahi (right)
Three HENRYs who made over $100,000 last year explain why they feel far from "rich."
Even for six-figure earners, homeownership can feel too expensive.
Americans say they'd need to make $483,000 a year to feel rich, per a 2023 Bankrate survey.
Madelyn Driver, a 30-year-old who made over $100,000 last year working in the tech industry, said she used to dream about a six-figure income.
"I remember thinking that earning $100,000 felt like an unimaginable milestone," she told BI via email. "Now, my husband and I both exceed that number. Yet, we hardly feel rich."
The couple's recent house-hunting experience is a big reason.
While currently based in Pennsylvania, Driver and her husband both work remotely, which allows them to broaden their home search across the US. However, Driver said they've still faced significant affordability challenges.
"We're finding that even in a vast country like the US, housing options that align with our desires for green spaces, a somewhat metropolitan vibe, and cultural vibrancy are surprisingly out of budget," she said. In addition to high home prices, elevated mortgage rates have propelled the cost of homeownership to record-high unaffordability levels.
Driver is among a group of Americans with six-figure incomes who are struggling to meet some of their financial goals. These people are sometimes called HENRYs — or high earners, not rich yet. In recent years, as the rising costs of housing, food, and childcare have weighed on people's finances, a $100,000-a-year salary hasn't gone as far as it used to. Americans say they'd need to earn $233,000 a year to feel financially secure and $483,000 to feel rich, according to a Bankrate survey conducted in June 2023.
For Driver, getting rich isn't only about boosting one's income — it's about reducing one's expenses.
"If expenses — especially housing costs — were more reasonable, I'd feel much more financially secure and rich," she said.
To be sure, reaching a six-figure income could still be life-changing for many lower-income Americans. And across pay levels, wages have generally been growing faster than inflation in recent months, which could help make some HENRYs feel a bit richer.
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Business Insider asked Driver and two other HENRYs about their financial challenges — and what changes to their incomes and expenses would be necessary for them to feel rich. BI has verified their earnings.
You might have to leave your state to feel rich
Christopher Stroup, a 33-year-old financial advisor based in Santa Monica, California, made roughly $130,000 lastyear.
However, he said he's still paying offhis student debt and working toward his savings goals for a down payment on a home, starting a family, and retirement. That's why he feels far from rich.
"I wouldn't consider myself rich yet because I haven't achieved any of those goals," he told BI via email. "Versus the traditional arc of life, I feel behind financially."
Stroup estimated he'd need an annual income of between $250,000 and $300,000 to feel like his finances were "rather stable." This would allow him to make significant progress toward his savings goals and have enough money left over to "enjoy life,"he said.
To feel "rich," he guessed that he'd need an annual income of about $400,000 to $500,000 a year — more than triple his 2023 earnings. At this income level, he estimated that he'd be able to meet his savings goals, enjoy life, and have some extra money left over.
If he can't boost his income to his desired level, Stroup said there's another thing that might help him feel rich: moving to an area with lower housing costs. Business Insider has interviewed several Americans who have moved to different states in recent years in search of lower rents or mortgage payments.
"I rent a 450-square-foot alcove studio in Santa Monica for $1,650 a month," Stroup said. "My sister, who lives in Cincinnati, rents a 1,600-square-foot home with three bedrooms, two-and-a-half bathrooms, and a full backyard for $1,800."
A high income can come with "lifestyle inflation"
It's not just high-earning Americans who say they feel far from rich.
Abid Salahi, a 25-year-old software engineer based in Vancouver, Canada, made over $100,000 last year. However, his journey to a six-figure income came with some downsides, he told BI via email.
For example, while going to college helped him become a software engineer, he took out a significant level of student debt. He said he has about $30,000 remaining, and that his debt payments are an extra monthly expense he has to account for during the yearslong repayment process.
Salahi said a high income can also come with another challenge: "lifestyle inflation." Commonly referred to as "lifestyle creep," this refers to the practice of increasing one's spending as one's income rises — and therefore not increasing one's level of savings much.
"Without proper management, increased spending can absorb the extra income, leaving you with the same amount of savings as if you were earning a lower salary," Salahi said.
Due to the high costs of housing and other living expenses in his area, Salahi estimated that he'd need to earn about $200,000 to $300,000 to start feeling rich.
"I think feeling truly rich would mean you don't have to look at the prices when you go to a restaurant, grocery store, or travel destination," he said. "You also have a substantial amount of savings and investments that can cover you in cases of emergency."
Are you making over $100,000 a year? Are you willing to share your story and the impact this income has had on your life? If so, contact this reporter at jzinkula@businessinsider.com.
New claims about Elon Musk and his interactions with female SpaceX employees just dropped.
The Wall Street Journal published an extensive piece about Musk and his conduct.
This comes at an awkward time for Musk as Tesla investors vote on his $55 billion pay package.
Elon Musk has been doing his best to promote his sprawling business empire as Tesla shareholders prepare to vote Thursday on a $55 billion pay package.
But Musk just got hit with some awkward press — this time, with a new report examining Musk's interactions with several female employees at his rocket company, SpaceX.
The Wall Street Journal said its report was based on interviews with former SpaceX employees and people familiar with the matter as well as documents.
It cited one woman as having told friends that she kissed Musk soon after meeting him in the early 2010s when she was a SpaceX intern and eventually had sex with him. She became a full-time SpaceX employee years after her internship, the report said.
"Nothing that Elon Musk did towards me during either of my periods of employment at SpaceX was predatory or wrongful in any way," the woman told the newspaper via lawyers acting for her and Musk.
Musk did not respond to requests for comment from the Journal.
Representatives for Musk and SpaceX did not immediately respond to requests for comment from Business Insider, sent outside normal working hours.
SpaceX's chief operating officer, Gwynne Shotwell, said in a statement to the Journal: "The untruths, mischaracterizations, and revisionist history in your email paint a completely misleading narrative."
Musk, a flight attendant, and a horse
The Journal also mentioned a BI story from May 2022 about an incident in which Musk was accused of exposing himself to a flight attendant on SpaceX's corporate jet.
BI learned that the aerospace firm paid the flight attendant $250,000 in 2018 to settle a sexual-misconduct claim against its billionaire founder.
When BI approached Musk for comment in 2022, he initially asked for more time to respond, saying that there was "a lot more to this story." But Musk did not reply even after BI extended the deadline and reiterated its request.
'Muskonomy'
In addition to Musk's huge compensation package, Tesla shareholders on Thursday are set to vote on a proposal to incorporate the EV giant in Texas.
Musk has tried to woo shareholders by campaigning on X and offered personal guided tours of a factory in Texas.
The mercurial billionaire has also sought to turn what is often seen as a disadvantage — running half a dozen companies concurrently — into an advantage.
"I've mentioned something like this before, but, if any of my companies goes public, we will prioritize other longtime shareholders of my other companies, including Tesla," Musk said on Saturday. "Loyalty deserves loyalty."
Shareholders, however, seem to be split on giving Musk the support he's seeking.
Norway's sovereign wealth fund, a top-10 Tesla shareholder, said last week in comments first reported by The Financial Times that it would not vote for the pay package.
The oil fund did not support the package when it was first conceived in 2018.
Another large Tesla shareholder, the California Public Employees' Retirement System, shared similar sentiments last month after its CEO, Marcie Frost, told CNBC that the pension fund would vote against Musk's pay.
On the other hand, Baillie Gifford, an institutional investor that's backed Tesla for more than a decade, is set to vote in favor of Musk's compensation plan, Bloomberg reported.
An insider told the outlet that the Scotland-based asset manager, which was once Tesla's biggest shareholder after Musk, thought the pay package could be justified given the ambitious targets tied to it.
Scientists used AI to find elephants likely have unique names for each other.
Machine learning analyzed hundreds of elephant calls recorded in Kenya between 1986 and 2022.
Elephants' ability to recognize name-like calls indicates they may be capable of abstract thought.
Scientists using AI tools have discovered that elephants likely have unique names for each other, according to a new study.
A group of scientists used machine learning to analyze hundreds of wild African elephant calls recorded in Kenya between 1986 and 2022, publishing their findings on Monday in the peer-reviewed journal Nature Ecology and Evolution.
Specifically, the researchers looked at three different types of communication, or "rumbles" between the endangered species of elephants: "contact calling" rumbles when an elephant is calling to another that is more than 50 meters away, "greeting" rumbles when elephants are close to each other, and "caregiving" rumbles when a female elephant is comforting a calf.
They did not analyze other types of rumbles, like "let's go" rumbles, because elephants are less likely to use specific names in that context, the authors explained.
Within each of these types of interactions, the researchers found evidence that elephants address each other with name-like calls specific to each individual — the first time similar behavior has been observed outside humans.
Unlike dolphins and parrots, who address each other by mimicking the receiver's voice, these elephant calls are not imitations of what each elephant sounds like.
They're more conceptual, like the names humans use for each other.
That could mean elephants have a capacity for abstract thought greater than we previously understood.
A machine learning model helped the researchers interpret each call's acoustic structure to determine which elephant was being addressed. This wouldn't have been possible without the help of AI, because humans alone aren't able to detect and differentiate patterns in the elephant rumblings, Michael Pardo, a lead author on the study told Business Insider.
When the researchers replayed a call originally addressed to one elephant, that elephant responded differently than to calls meant for another individual, the researchers explain in the study.
The researchers posted a video to YouTube that shows a mother elephant hearing a playback of her daughter calling to her. When she hears her daughter's call, the mother raises her head and calls back.
Pardo said that while elephants in captivity respond to names humans give them, like dogs and cats do, "this is one of very few examples of animals addressing each other by name or with something similar to a name."
Still, the researchers couldn't identify which part of the call contained the elephant's name, noting that each call is also simultaneously coded with the caller's characteristics, like its age, sex, emotional state, and behavioral context.
The authors explained that although they found mixed support for their hypothesis that different elephants use the same name to refer to a fellow elephant, they did find "at least some convergence among different callers addressing the same receiver." And, the authors wrote, it's possible that every elephant within a family uses the same name to address a specific member.
"This suggests that elephants understand the abstract connection between an arbitrary sound and the individual it refers to," Pardo told BI, adding that if elephants can understand abstract names, it's possible they can also think abstractly about other things. And they may even use names for other objects too, according to the study's authors.
"It may tell us something about how a critical prerequisite for language, vocal production learning, evolved," Pardo said. "Vocal production learning is the ability to learn to produce new sounds, and it is rare among animals."
And the study doesn't just help us understand elephants, it can also help us understand ourselves.
"This raises the possibility that human ancestors may have initially developed vocal production learning to call one another by name, and then later this allowed fully fledged language to develop," Pardo told BI.
That means that names could have preceded language itself.
Pardo said the study not only shows how intelligent elephants are, but how important social bonds are in their lives — just like us.
Microsoft executives are set to discuss plans this summer. The goal is to decide before September, when sales ramp up.
The potential changes stem from Microsoft's desire to see a return on the billions of dollars it has invested in AI. From millions of pricey AI chips to an ambitious plan to expand its data center footprint, Microsoft has bet big on the future of AI.
Its AI investments have already paid off to a certain degree. Microsoft hit a $3 trillion valuation for the first time this year and is the world's most valuable company. An early investment in OpenAI gave Microsoft a massive advantage with the onset of the generative AI boom.
But AI tools aren't cheap to maintain, so figuring out a way to drive revenue from them, and fast, remains key.
Microsoft 365, one of the company's crown jewels, is an obvious place to start. Users can already add the Copilot AI assistant tool to the Microsoft 365 suite for an additional cost. Packaging it together could save users the headache of managing multiple software licenses.
Justin Sullivan/Getty Images
Microsoft's RFP for AI's ROI shows tech's shifting motivations.
Microsoft might have been comfortable pouring more cash into AI bets during the zero interest rate phenomenon. But in the wake of Big Tech's "Year of Efficiency" in 2023, the purse strings have gotten considerably tighter.
And this is the most valuable company in the world!
What about the AI startups that raised millions in funding without much more than a hunch of a good idea? How much grace will they be given before investors expect returns?
Inside Goldman's summer internship program. Celebratory photos outside 200 West Street. A letter from CEO David Solomon. BI got an exclusive look at the first day of Goldman's internship program.
China puts the brakes on its gold-buying spree. The country's central bank bought gold for 18 straight months. But as the commodity reached record-high prices, China held off on scooping up more.
Boring stocks are poised for a "renaissance" rally. Large-cap value stocks are set to outperform growth stocks for the first time in a long time, Bank of America predicts. They recommended four sector ETFs to take advantage of the opportunity.
3 things in tech
Cristina Cordova; Errich Petersen/Getty Images for SXSW; Business Wire/AP Images; Chelsea Jia Feng/BI
Nvidia is going on the defensive. Big Tech and startups are trying to get a slice of Nvidia's market dominance. According to a note from Morgan Stanley analysts, Nvidia is "clearly focused on defending market share."
OpenAI and Sam Altman might be the biggest winners of WWDC. Apple's AI announcements may not be enough to attract new Apple customers — but ChatGPT's integration is a huge endorsement for OpenAI and its CEO, providing it access to a massive new user base.
Abercrombie is having its Lazarus moment. The clothing company, once the "It" brand for early 2000s teenagers, had been languishing for the past decade. But Abercrombie came back from the dead, and now investors are eating it up.
Elon Musk wants to win over advertisers (again). Musk has had a tenuous relationship with advertisers since giving them the proverbial middle finger last year. He's now set to speak at the Cannes Lions ad summit, where Big Tech firms go to woo advertisers.
We're witnessing the biggest AI deal yet. While Apple has announced its integration of ChatGPT with Siri, one Apple exec said there could be a similar deal with Google Gemini. BI rounded up what we know on who's paying who — and what's at stake.
My friend and I tried to see Chappell Roan but ended up getting tickets that would not get us into the show.
Mary Helene Hall
I bought tickets to see Chappell Roan on resale site SeatGeek and spent over $600 to go see her.
At the door, we learned our tickets were useless and would not get us into the show.
We had a fun night with other fans whose tickets didn't work, but I'm still disappointed.
When I first heard Chappell Roan's "Pink Pony Club," I knew that she was bringing something special to the pop scene.
That's why, when I learned she'd be visiting my best friend's city for her Midwest Princess tour, I booked my flight to Madison, Wisconsin.
In May, I purchased tickets to see her at The Sylvee from the resale website SeatGeek. Shortly after, SeatGeek sent me an email explaining that, due to a "security policy at The Sylvee," my tickets would be delivered outside of the SeatGeek app. I'd get an email with a link to accept my ticket.
I received an email from a separate address that said my tickets had been shared with me. I clicked a link to accept my tickets, and I assumed I was set.
After all, the blue tickets were added to my digital wallet and had a moving line in front of the barcode, like many tickets I've had do. They looked perfectly normal and even had info about the show and "Screenshots won't get you in the door" printed along the bottom.
After spending about $640 on airfare on travel from Alabama, concert tickets, an outfit for the show, Uber rides, and more, I was told at the door that we'd been duped.
But what resulted from that was an unexpected night that I will probably never forget.
We found out at the gate that our tickets would not get us into the show
The ticket I had (right) looked pretty real to me.
Courtesy of Mary Helene Hall
When we arrived at The Sylvee and made our way to the end of a line that wrapped around the block, we could feel the excitement in the air.
My friend and I noted it was weird to see so many people dressed up in mermaid garb — the theme of this Chappell Roan show — who were holding signs asking to buy tickets. Why would so many people show up ready to go to a show if they couldn't get in?
Still, I walked through security, held out my digital ticket, and watched the ticket scanner flash red. The attendant told us to head to the box office, where we were told we were victims of a massive ticket scam. The tickets we'd been transferred from a third party were unscannable and useless.
We joined the group of about 80 people outside the venue who had also just realized they weren't getting to see one of the hottest concerts of the summer.
Our group of disappointed fans decided to turn the night around
We didn't see Chapelle Roan live, but we made the most of our night.
Taylor Hill/Getty Images
Outside the venue, our group of upset people with worthless tickets decided to find something else to do together. After all, we'd gotten dressed up.
Before I knew it, we were in a caravan of around 30 mermaids making our way to the nearest bar. Someone got the bartender to play Chappell Roan's discography and ordered us all a round of shots.
What ensued was a night of singing and dancing to our "favorite artist's favorite artist," cursing third-party ticket vendors, and making new friends. As others learned their tickets were useless that night, they found out about our impromptu party and joined us.
Without this experience, I would've probably had a miserable night.
I got my money back, but I'm still disappointed
Everyone thinks they're smart enough not to get duped until they are — including me. I was mortified, but the sheer number of people I met who had also bought tickets that wouldn't work helped me realize there wasn't much we could've done to avoid this.
We bought tickets from what I consider to be a more reputable resale platform, not some random person on Facebook Marketplace or Craigslist.
In my case, SeatGeek has a Buyer Guarantee, so I was quickly issued a full refund. But that doesn't change the fact that I missed out on something that I paid to travel over 1,000 miles to experience.
It's just another part of the conversation about how flawed ticketing for live events has become.
Last year, Taylor Swift fans who got nonexistent tickets to The Eras Tour faced issues similar to mine but struggled to get refunds. Earlier this year, the Department of Justice filed an antitrust lawsuit against Live Nation Entertainment (the parent company of Ticketmaster), accusing it of unlawfully dominating the market.
SeatGeek has not explained to me what went wrong, and I don't think I'll ever know for sure.
Looking back, it was odd that someone could just send me a link, and I'd get their tickets. Maybe the original tickets were real but the seller never fully transferred them to me at all. Or maybe they were really good fakes all along.
But what I've taken away from this experience is that it's easy to get unscannable tickets that look legitimate — and it's crucial to make sure you obtain possession of the original event tickets if they were initially sold through Ticketmaster.
A representative for SeatGeek issued the following statement to Business Insider: "We're really sorry that this fan wasn't able to attend the show and understand the disappointment and frustration this whole experience must have caused. Upon investigation, a seller informed us that this was potentially due to a recently reported Ticketmaster hack, resulting in several of their tickets being stolen and the seller not being able to reissue barcodes as a result, which we are continuing to investigate. While these instances are rare, all fans buying their tickets on SeatGeek are protected by our Buyer Guarantee."
A representative for Ticketmaster issued the following statement to Business Insider: "The original ticket buyers violated terms set forth by the artist – either by buying more tickets than allowed and/or using automation – and as a result the tickets were immediately canceled, and the original buyer was notified. Unfortunately, SeatGeek's policies prioritize the profits of scalpers over protecting fans from being scammed by fraudulent tickets."
Representatives for The Sylvee didn't immediately respond to a request for comment.
His family said he was threatened by people connected to a case he was researching and felt overworked.
Balson stopped working when he was told by doctors that he had developed a migraine disorder.
The family of a true-crime producer who took his own said he was overworked and had received threats from people connected to a case he was researching.
John Balson, 40, based in London,died by suicide on May 17 after doctors told him he was likely dealing with a vestibular migraine disorder, Deadline reported. He died a month after he stopped working as a freelancer due to his condition.
A GoFundMe page set up by a friend to help Balson's wife and their three-year-old daughter, said he dealt with "constant dizziness, migraines, insomnia and pain 24 hours a day, seven days a week."
Balson's wife, Yumeno Niimura, told Deadline that she believes he became ill due to the stress he was under while working on the docuseries "In the Footsteps of Killers," produced by Alaska TV for British broadcaster Channel 4. Niimura said Balson was in "excruciating pain" in the lead-up to his death.
The show investigated unsolved murder cases in the UK.
Niimura says smaller budgets mean freelancers are overworked
According to Niimura, Balson was under "a massive amount of pressure" while working on the show, and claimed he was blamed for a family declining to take part in the series.
In an interview with Us Weekly, Niimura said his death was a "failure of the industry."
She also told Deadline her husband had received threats from someone related to a person he was researching for "In the Footsteps of Killers."
Niimura said that smaller TV companies often have smaller budgets and claimed they compensate by forcing "extra work and unrealistic assignments on freelancers like him."
She said: "The loss of John Balson is not just his life; it's a failure of the industry. The industry can find a replacement the next day, but there will never be another John Balson."
Balson's death raises questions about working conditions in film and TV
The working conditions of people involved in film and TV have been in the spotlight recently, with actors and writers going on strike in the US last year.
Balson's death raises questions about the duty of care that broadcasters and streaming services have toward employees, particularly those working on emotional topics such as true-crime.
In May, Netflix came under scrutiny after a woman named Fiona Harey was harassed and outed by social media users as the alleged stalker in the fictionalized true-crime series "Baby Reindeer."
The Association of True Crime Producers held an emergency meeting about Balson's death on Tuesday.
In a statement on its website published on Tuesday, it said that the people making true-crime shows deal with "gruesome details, traumatized families and friends and working to tight budgets and deadlines.
"It is right that production companies and broadcasters recognize the additional burdens these place on those making true-crime content."
Channel 4 is conducting an investigation into Balson's death, and a spokesperson for the broadcaster told Business Insider: "We are in ongoing contact with John's family and offering them our support.
Referring to a UK union, the statement continued: "we are also in a dialogue with BECTU and have engaged an external law firm to undertake a thorough investigation, which will be as swift as circumstances allow. We will take whatever action is appropriate in response to its findings."
A spokesperson for Alaska TV told Business Insider that Balson was "an extremely talented and thoughtful Director," but that they couldn't comment on the circumstances surrounding his death because of Channel 4's ongoing investigation.
Rob McElhenney wears Billy Reid's pullover Danley sweater, white T-shirt, and flat-front trousers; Anderson's brown belt; and a Panerai watch.
Sheryl Nields for BI
Rob McElhenney is, quite literally, wearing many hats.
The 47-year-old actor, writer, showrunner, and entrepreneur is holding a polite grimace as he balances five fedoras atop his head in a Culver City studio, Imagine Dragons pumping in the background.
He places a sixth on top of the stack, slowly draws his arm down, and poses. The crowd — in this case, a photographer and a handful of assistants, publicists, stylists, and groomers — goes the Hollywood equivalent of wild (the photographer shouts, "You're amazing!").
McElhenney's posture is lighter as he strolls over to the photographer's monitor to check out the result, six hats still balancing on top of his freshly coiffed brown hair. His nerves? Gone. That grimace? A distant memory. He's on to the next shot.
Over more than two decades working in Hollywood, McElhenney's approach has been similar: the ambitious plan, the windup, the execution, the comedown. Then, the next ambitious plan. "It's not magic," McElhenney tells Business Insider a few weeks after his photo shoot. "It's just putting one foot in front of the other, getting the work done, and aligning yourself with the right people."
In today's entertainment landscape — one in which every celebrity seems to have a book club or a liquor brand, and many have broken into the ranks of writers, showrunners, and producers to make up for shrinking residual checks — multihyphenates are everywhere. Reese Witherspoon isn't just an A-list actor; she's built an entertainment empire with her production company, Hello Sunshine, by adapting female-focused books into movies and TV shows and selling them to streaming services. Kevin Hart has so many ventures (a tequila brand, a restaurant chain, a series of self-help books, partnerships with companies like Lyft and JPMorgan Chase) that it's easy to forget he's still doing standup comedy.
But not every workhorse can create the longest-running live-action American sitcom, as McElhenney did with "It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia," which is prepping to film its 17th season. And not every ideas guy can sell a cable network on his plan for a sports docuseries that also serves as free advertising for his businesses, then turn that show into a critical and commercial success, as he did with "Welcome to Wrexham," which is about to conclude its third season. To McElhenney, every story is a business, and every business is a story.
McElhenney's new company, More Better Industries, clearly lays out his ambitions. It includes a production arm, More Better Productions, to support projects like "Wrexham" and his AppleTV+ series "Mythic Quest"; a creative consultancy, More Better Advisory, to do things like integrate McElhenney's Four Walls whiskey into "Wrexham" and get it sold at Citizens Bank Park in Philadelphia; and an investment arm, More Better Ventures, to back sports teams, tech companies, and other businesses that slot neatly into McElhenney's interests. He has, essentially, commodified every public aspect of himself, folding in layer upon layer of potential cross-promotion and profit, all in a way that feels — as much as is possible with these kinds of things — organic.
It is, those close to him say, a very Rob McElhenney thing to do. "If you need to overcome a problem or manifest a miracle," says his good friend and "Wrexham" costar and coowner Ryan Reynolds, "tell Rob it's impossible."
But McElhenney is adamant that he isn't doing more for the sake of it. "That is an empty, unfillable cup in the center of your soul," he says. "You have to find something that you love and devote yourself entirely to it. Otherwise, you could've made a billion dollars and wasted your life."
Most Rob McElhenney projects start with a crazy idea. In the case of "Always Sunny," the template for the show's lovable-yet-despicable characters began with McElhenney's idea for a darkly comedic scene: A guy knocks on his friend's door asking to borrow some sugar, only to learn that the friend has cancer. Instead of being sympathetic, the guy just wants to grab his sugar and run.
McElhenney shot the scene, along with a few others, with his actual friends, Charlie Day and Glenn Howerton. All three were struggling actors in their late 20s living in Los Angeles, so their characters were, too. They put together a pilot that was picked up by FX, but the network had a key note: Change the location and the characters' jobs. (No one wanted another TV show about struggling actors.) McElhenney offered up his hometown of Philadelphia and a local pub where the gang would work. When the first season of "It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia" aired in 2005, McElhenney was 28 and the youngest showrunner in Hollywood. Nineteen years later, the show is still delivering the boundary-pushing comedy fans know and love while taking the occasional ambitious dramatic swing.
If you need to overcome a problem or manifest a miracle, tell Rob it's impossible.
Ryan Reynolds
In theory, McElhenney could have ridden the success of "Always Sunny" into the sunset. But spending the pandemic lockdown bingeing sports documentaries gave him an idea for his next venture. Inspired by shows like Netflix's "Sunderland 'Til I Die" and the meritocracy of the English football league, where teams are promoted and demoted based on their record each season, McElhenney came up with a plan: Buy a struggling team for dirt cheap. Get a TV deal to document said team. Use the TV money to upgrade the team, which would make for a compelling Cinderella story. On paper, the plan was "insane," says Reynolds, whom McElhenney met about four years ago after the two struck up a DM friendship. "In reality, it's still completely insane."
McElhenney wears a Loro Piana pin-striped wool-and-cashmere-blend suit, Allen Edmonds shoes, and a Panerai watch.
Sheryl Nields for BI
But anyone who knows McElhenney knows he doesn't take big swings without a plan. McElhenney's wife, Kaitlin Olson, who met her future husband when he cast her on "Always Sunny," says witnessing his work ethic on the show was "definitely when I started to fall in love with him." When McElhenney pitched Olson on "Wrexham," she was instantly on board. "He's someone I would always bet on. His ideas always are so fleshed out and so thoughtful," she says. "It wasn't just about like, 'Oh, let's buy a team!'"
McElhenney brought his pitch to John Landgraf, the chairman of FX Networks, who agreed to pick it up for two seasons. It didn't matter that McElhenney had never made a documentary or that he knew hardly anything about English football and hadn't yet chosen a team to follow. "I did it because I trust Rob," Landgraf says. "The guy is a magnet for excellence."
Picking the right team was about more than tapping one lucky club to infuse with cash. To reverse engineer what McElhenney called "the ultimate underdog story," the team had to be as rich in narrative potential as it was in need of resources. The British comedian Humphrey Ker, a writer on "Mythic Quest" and an avid English football fan, suggested Wrexham AFC, and something clicked. The down-on-its-luck club, situated in a postindustrial Welsh town, reminded McElhenney of his working-class upbringing in South Philadelphia. As the oldest English football club in Wales and the third-oldest professional team in the world, it offered a unique blend of legacy and opportunity: After sinking to the lowest position in its 150-year history, the only way to go, for both the team and the town, was up.
The fact that "Welcome to Wrexham" is a well-made, engaging documentary underscores McElhenney and Reynolds' insistence that helping the team rise through the ranks is about more than sheer capitalistic ambition. The coowners anchor the show as famous yet naive interlopers hoping to learn about English football and Welsh tradition. But the series also makes welcome forays into character study, highlighting fans like the singer of a local band called the Declan Swans, who's undergoing cancer treatment, and the team's volunteer disability liaison, who uses a wheelchair.
So far, the formula has been good for everyone involved. "Welcome to Wrexham" was recently renewed for a fourth season, and Wrexham AFC has been promoted twice and now sits two leagues away from its goal: the internationally renowned, massively lucrative Premier League. The docuseries has helped spike sales of Wrexham merch. Local businesses, including the team's regular pub, have become tourist attractions. And McElhenney and Reynolds have never been busier, engineering publicity stunts that pull triple duty as personal branding, advertising for "Wrexham," and extra exposure for the team's sponsors (some of which are their owncompanies).
From a different angle, however, the Wrexham gambit can feel a bit cynical. Landgraf has seen "snarky, sometimes bitter tweets" from opponents' fans suggesting that Wrexham recruiting players from higher leagues constitutes cheating or buying its way to the top. As the team advances through the leagues, the Hollywood influence on its growing profile has become even harder to ignore. When Wrexham announced its partnership with HP, it wasn't just McElhenney and Reynolds who appeared in cheeky ads for the information-technology company: Wrexham players did, too. There's also the clear class divide between the average Wrexham fan and the Hollywood celebrities who arrive in their working-class town with a camera crew in tow. No number of friendly pints with the locals can change the fact that McElhenney and Reynolds' efforts to revitalize the team and the town were made possible by their fame, wealth, and connections.
That fact isn't lost on McElhenney. While "Wrexham" takes pains to emphasize his blue-collar upbringing in South Philadephia, he's aware of the complicated dynamics at play. "I have to recognize that I'm no longer in the position that I was growing up," he says. "So I don't feel that I have the right anymore to fully understand what someone's going through. The only way that I can truly understand it is if I listen and listen and listen and listen more, and then try to synthesize that information and do with it what I believe is right."
All that listening doesn't seem to be an empty promise. Early scenes in "Wrexham" show McElhenney taking in the unfiltered thoughts of fans, some of whom are less than pleased with the celebrity takeover. "I don't like conflict, and yet I recognize that without a differing point of view, I'm just going to continue on the same path," McElhenney says, weaving in a tangent about President Lincoln's decision to fill his Cabinet with political rivals. "I won't learn, I won't grow, and I won't be able to understand where the world is headed."
Soaking up information is a core part of McElhenney's business strategy. He describes how he educated himself about everything from investing to running a company to buying a sports team by striking up conversations with people who knew more than he did.
While working on "Wrexham," McElhenney reached out to the Philadelphia Eagles owner, Jeffrey Lurie, and the team's general manager, Howie Roseman, to understand their perspectives on owning and running a team. He also talked to the former Philadelphia Eagles center Jason Kelce and his brother, the Kansas City Chiefs tight end Travis Kelce, to get the player's perspective. To Olson, curiosity is her husband's strong suit. "He doesn't see it as weakness to not understand something," she says. "He's perfectly willing to go, 'Wait, hold on, back up. Explain that again.'"
He doesn't see it as weakness to not understand something. He's perfectly willing to go, 'Wait, hold on, back up. Explain that again.'
Kaitlin Olson
He's not above taking suggestions from complete strangers, either. In March 2023, Kelsey Trainor, a former entertainment lawyer, sent McElhenney a snarky Twitter DM about the Wrexham women's team playing their first game at the club's main stadium. "I said something like, 'Well, it's about time,'" Trainor says. A few weeks later, she was sitting on the beach in Turks and Caicos when she suddenly felt anxious about her plans to take a law-firm job and messaged him again. "I said, 'I just quit my job. I'm going to go make a lot of money, or you can hire me to work for your Wrexham women's team.' Two hours later he responded: 'That is the most badass DM I've ever seen. What's your number?'" Trainor is now More Better's chief strategy officer.
McElhenney's egoless hunger for collaboration may have started as a chip on his shoulder. As a kid, he struggled in school and was labeled a troublemaker who was always in detention. He was the only person in his class who didn't go to college. When he was diagnosed with neurodevelopmental disorders and learning disabilities at 46, his school years finally started to make sense. "It was truly revelatory," McElhenney says. He'd always thought he was trying his hardest in school, but "the way that the system was set up and the way that my brain worked just didn't line up for me to be successful."
Sheryl Nields for BI
In retrospect, he realized he wasn't actually a bad kid. "I just never felt like I could succeed. No matter what I did, I was going to fail, so why bother? So of course I started acting up."
Struggling in school wasn't just character building; it also was skill building. McElhenney references Malcolm Gladwell's book "David and Goliath" and his theory that people with learning disabilities are more likely to become innovators because they must work around a "strategic disadvantage." "In a lot of ways, I'm grateful for it," McElhenney says. "It helped me look at the world in a different way."
Having a family, too, has shifted McElhenney's perspective. After dating Olson first in secret, then openly on the "Always Sunny" set, the two married in 2008 and had two sons, Axel, 13, and Leo, 12. It may seem as though his various jobs bleed into every aspect of his life, but McElhenney has worked hard to keep parts of himself separate. He has one text chain with Reynolds and other Wrexham leadership about their business partnership, and one with just Reynolds that's strictly a friend chat. In between sending memes back and forth, they talk about how to strike a healthy work-life balance and how to show up as good partners.
One text in particular has stuck with McElhenney. Reynolds "said something to the effect of: 'Just make sure that, no matter what, you leave space for what's most important, which is your kids. And to be able to twirl Kaitlin on the dance floor,'" he says. "To see that written out? That felt poetic."
McElhenney cites his "Always Sunny" costar Danny DeVito and DeVito's wife, Rhea Perlman, as some of his and Olson's parenting role models. "The trick is not much of a trick at all," he says. "It doesn't matter if you are the poorest person in the neighborhood or the richest guy in Bel Air. If your parents give you unconditional love with boundaries and respect you and spend time with you, you're probably going to be OK."
Like the teams in the English football league, McElhenney's success may come and go."Welcome to Wrexham" might have secured another season, but even Landgraf says there's no guarantee that the series will air indefinitely. Because reality dictates the narrative, the team's travails must remain interesting enough to document — a feat that might become more difficult as Wrexham sheds its dark-horse status. Not to mention the finances: The team's losses reportedly soared to $6.4 million in the 2022-23 season, partly due to increased player salaries, despite having big sponsors to help foot the bills. The owners acknowledged they might have to seek outside investors to get the team to the next tier.
But boundless curiosity and a bit of an underdog mindset have gotten McElhenney this far. Ultimately, he just wants to make the things — and invest in the people — he believes in. "If I could spend the second half of my life saying that to other people, and then putting my money where my mouth is and watching them go and build what they want to build," he says, "I feel like that's a life's worth living."
Credits: Photography: Sheryl Nields Creative Director: Bryan Erickson Styling: Kelsey Ellstrom Hair: Lesley Poling Makeup: Corina Duran-Rabichuk Producers: Nicole Hyatt, Rebecca Karamehmedovic, and Jennifer Laski for Sway NY Photography Assistance: Danya Morrison, John Cizmas Digital Tech: Embry Lopez Design and Development: Jenny Chang-Rodriguez, Bryan Erickson, Rebecca Zisser Editing: Claire Landsbaum, Joi-Marie McKenzie, Jonann Brady Editing Assistance: Brea Cubit Video: Yuelei Song, Brittany Stephanis, A.C. Fowler Social: Virginia Alves, Victoria Gracie, Nicole Forero, Laine Napoli
Rush pitched ambitious plans for self-driving submersibles to investors, per the report.
Wired revealed new details about Rush and OceanGate a year after its submersible imploded.
It seems OceanGate's late former CEO Stockton Rush had high hopes for the company behind the Titan submersible, which imploded last year.
According to a new report from Wired, Rush dreamt of having underwater OceanGate bases that could be used by billionaire doomsday preppers or as data storage units.
Wired obtained thousands of leaked documents and spoke to former employees to uncover new details about Rush, including how he reportedly shrugged off concerns and took shortcuts to make his submersible vision a reality.
Rush, who died when the sub imploded in June 2023, also reportedly pitched the company's board and investors on an ambitious concept for what OceanGate could become. This included self-driving submersibles that could dive to depths of 6,000 meters — about half as deep as the wreck of the Titanic, the report says.
After the fatal incident that also killed four other people, Business Insider obtained a waiver signed by prospective passengers which revealed the Titan sub had only reached the depth of the Titanic wreck on 13 out of 90 dives. This meant its success rate could have been as low as 14% on deep-sea expeditions.
Rush had a bold and daring vision for the company, which internally called itself "SpaceX for the oceans," its cofounder Guillermo Söhnlein previously told BI.
According to Söhnlein, who left OceanGate in 2013, the company had set out to help humanity set up underwater cities by creating small bus-sized submersibles.
He told BI: "We were solving the transportation problem for these future underwater communities."
At the time of the tragedy, people with knowledge of OceanGate's workings spoke out about how they had warned Rush of safety concerns they had related to its sub, which was not certified by regulatory bodies.
Rob McCallum, a former OceanGate consultant, warned Rush in emails in 2018 previously seen by BI that he was putting passengers' lives at risk and urged him not to carry out deep-sea dives until the sub was proven safe.
McCallum had also told BI that OceanGate's approach to engineering was "ad hoc" and "ultimately inappropriate."
The sub embarked on its fatal journey last June on an expedition to the Titanic wreckage, which sits nearly 13,000 feet below the ocean surface, when it lost communications with its support ship an hour and 45 minutes into the trip.
Days after it was declared missing, US Coast Guard officials said the sub probably suffered a "catastrophic loss of the pressure chamber."
OceanGate didn't immediately respond to a request for comment from Business Insider, made outside normal working hours.