Category: Business

• An Idaho jury awarded a drag performer $1,176,000 for defamation.
• The performer was falsely accused by a right-wing blogger of exposing himself to minors.
• He said the false allegations led to death threats and harassment.

An Idaho jury awarded a drag performer $1,176,000 in damages after finding that a right-wing blogger defamed him by falsely claiming that he exposed himself to minors at an LGBTQ+ Pride event.

The Kootenai County District Court jury unanimously ruled on Friday that Summer Bushnell defamed Eric Posey, whose drag name is Mona Liza Million, by posting a doctored video from an event at Coeur d'Alene City Park in June 2022, according to the Coeur d'Alene Press.

The Pride event made headlines on June 11, 2022, when law enforcement arrested members of the white nationalist organization Patriot Front who were protesting nearby.

Bushnell posted a video on social media discussing the arrests.

According to the Coeur d'Alene Press, she said: "Why did no one arrest the man in a dress who flashed his genitalia to minors and people in the crowd?"

A day later, she posted a doctored video of Posey she had received from a local videographer, the local news outlet reported.

It showed Posey with a blurred patch over his crotch, which Bushnell claimed was covering his "fully exposed genitals," according to the Coeur d'Alene Press.

The video gained thousands of views and led to a police investigation. City prosecutors did not press charges.

Posey, who performed three times that day, was wearing a leotard, black shorts, tights, and a rainbow boa. According to the drag performer's lawsuit, he never removed any articles of clothing during the performances.

Nonetheless, Posey said during the five-day trial that the false allegations led to death threats and harassment, per the Coeur d'Alene Press.

In a September 2022 press statement, Posey said the video continued to be spread even after he had been cleared of wrongdoing, "not only defaming me but also inciting a backlash towards the LGBTQIA+ community statewide."

Although Idaho does not restrict drag performances, Republicans in other states have pushed for legislation to limit where drag artists can perform.

According to GLAAD, the legislative push has coincided with dozens of incidents of anti-LGBTQ protests and threats targeting drag events, including bomb threats, over the past couple of years.

Some of these incidents have involved violence, weapons, or extremist groups, as was the case in Couer d'Alene.

According to the Couer d'Alene Press, the Idaho jury deliberated for about three-and-a-half hours before awarding $926,000 in compensatory damages for defamation.

The outlet reported that the jury awarded an additional $250,000 in punitive damages because Posey proved that Bushnell knew her allegations were false and were made with "reckless regard."

According to the lawsuit, Bushnell knew the video was false because she had seen the unedited version and sent a link to the City of Coeur d'Alene.

The legal teams representing Bushnell and Posey did not immediately respond to requests for comment from Business Insider.

• Irina Stanescu landed a job as a software engineer at Google in 2011.
• She told Business Insider she was rejected for her first promotion but tried again a year later.
• Stanescu said she learned to solve problems independently and ask for more responsibility.

This as-told-to essay is based on a transcribed conversation with Irina Stanescu, a former Google software engineer based in California. The following has been edited for length and clarity.

I never thought I'd end up working for Google. I was born and raised in Romania. I went to college there to study computer engineering.

When I graduated in 2010, some friends who'd done internships with Google suggested I apply. I applied for a job as a software engineer and started there in October 2011 when I was 23. I moved to Mountain View, where the Google headquarters is.

I didn't fit in

I had no idea what to expect. Being an immigrant in California wasn't easy. I tried to be open-minded, but English wasn't my first language, and I struggled to make friends.

I had a rocky start because I didn't have a team for two weeks. When I eventually did, my manager left two months into my role. I had several interim managers. I was unlucky — none of my friends who started at a similar time had an experience like that.

I found a team that felt right

After seven months, I started working on Google Fiber. I moved there because I wanted to work for a growing team. It was like a startup within Google.

I had a stable manager and felt like I finally belonged to a team.

After a year and a half, I started thinking about going for a promotion. This is roughly the timeframe for getting promoted at Google.

I was rejected for a promotion

I had to write a self-assessment and collect feedback from my peers. In my case, decisions were made by people from other organizations within Google, such as YouTube or the ads team. These "promotions committees" review your application.

In mine, I listed all the projects I was working on. My peers also gave positive feedback.

But my manager told me my promotion was rejected. They said it was because I hadn't been able to show enough impact for the next level. Google had "career rubrics" summarizing the abilities it expected from each level. Its philosophy was that you perform at the level of the role you're trying to get to for at least six months before you're up for promotion.

I didn't know that at the time, and it was disheartening. I already had imposter syndrome, and getting rejected for a promotion made it worse.

I switched teams

I didn't plan on quitting Google. I knew I needed to figure out how to get promoted, so I reverse-engineered the process. The biggest thing I realized was that managers didn't have time to guide my career. I needed to guide my career. Instead of them telling me what I needed to do to get promoted, I needed to figure it out and ask them for support in achieving those things.

I looked at the job description for the next level up. I thought about my team, and I wasn't sure, given that it worked on a smaller scale than some of the other teams at Google, that they would have enough context to judge my impact.

A new team was forming in my cubicle. I decided to pitch myself for the new team and moved there at the same level.

I asked for more responsibility

I decided to figure out as much as I could on my own and take on more responsibility. I pushed for a particular project I wanted to work on.

My manager might have said no if it had been a larger team because the work was higher than my current level, but because it was quite small, they let me take it on. My manager placed their trust in me to deliver.

I didn't rely on my manager to solve problems

When encountering problems, a junior person might rely on their manager to help. If I needed help figuring something out, I'd find other people across the company who might have experience instead.

Once, when I had a problem, I found someone from a different team to help me figure it out.

Then I could go back to my manager and say: "Here's the problem, and here's what I did to solve it."

I over-communicated

I knew I needed to show that I could be trusted with timelines, deliverables, and communication.

I became much more proactive in my communication. I escalated and flagged concerns early on and updated my manager much more frequently on my progress.

When managing my project, I kept different stakeholders updated. I created a launch timeline, mapping out the dates and process for the rollout, and told others what we were doing and when. I was working at a much higher level than my role.

I applied for another promotion a year after being turned down for the last one

I applied for another promotion. This time, I got it — two and a half years after I'd joined Google.

Getting rejected the first time was a blessing in disguise because I learned so much by getting rejected. After that, I got promoted to the next level — a senior engineer — the following Spring.

I was tasked with being the tech lead of a number of critical projects for the Google Fiber TV ads team. In early 2016, I became a tech lead manager. I left Google later that year to join Uber in January 2017 as a tech lead.

Learning that I had to take control of my own career was vital to all the promotions I've had in my career since.

• Jensen Huang's emails run to no more than six lines, former Nvidia workers told Business Insider.
• They follow a "TL;DR approach" and the Nvidia CEO expects the same from his employees. 
• The method ensures key points are communicated efficiently but can be challenging, the people said. 

Jensen Huang has a distinctive way of writing emails and expects the same from Nvidia employees.

Former employees revealed new details with Business Insider about the Nvidia CEO's email communication style after insiders recently told The New Yorker that Huang's memos are like Japanese haiku.

Three former Nvidia workers said Huang's emails are usually concise, no more than six lines long, and he expects people to cut to the chase.

One likened it to a short "TL;DR type approach," meaning "too long; didn't read." The ex-Nvidia worker said: "It was explained early on that you have to get it down to a staccato type of email, and the whole company ran like this — not just Jensen."

A former Nvidia executive said it was a way to "foster the crystallization of priority and thought."

He told BI: "You'd get in trouble for sending a super-long email to him. Emails at Nvidia are double-spaced, one sentence per line, and probably no more than five or six lines."

He added: "The idea was to nail down what you have to say, send it, and if he, or others, need more information, then it's a conversation, not another email."

The former exec said identifying key points is essential to get people to pay attention. It's a useful communication technique that quickly summarizes complex topics, but may not come easily.

The people BI spoke to said "Nvidians" are expected to email Huang and their managers the top five priorities they're working on each week to help people focus.

Another person said these lists help Huang get a "quick pulse check" on what's happening across the company. It would sometimes lead to him suggesting employees from different departments or regions talk and collaborate on challenges.

The expectation for a well-crafted email is reminiscent of Jeff Bezos' six-page memo that Amazon staff circulate at the beginning of a meeting. Bezos has said that the memos are read in silence and serve as a way to better formulate ideas.

Nvidia declined to comment.

Do you work at Nvidia or have insights to share? Contact the reporter at jmann@businessinsider.com or via Signal at jyotimann.11

• You might be making your boss as miserable as they're making you.
• Complaining at work and gossiping about your coworkers could come back to bite you. 
• Business Insider spoke to career experts about the workplace behaviors that annoy bosses most.

Your bad boss may be the bane of your existence, but you could be guilty of making their professional life as miserable as they make yours.

"In the world of business, annoying your boss is akin to poking a beehive with a stick," Kraig Kleeman, CEO of The New Workforce, said.

Cultivating a quality relationship with the head honcho is key for strivers and slackers alike.

Business Insider spoke to several career coaches, workplace experts, and bosses themselves about the employee behaviors that drive bosses berserk.

1. Complaining

Negativity is a nonstarter for many bosses, Alvina Miller, a careers advisor at Career Success Australia, said.

"Persistent negativity can create a toxic work environment and affect team morale," she told BI. "Bosses appreciate solutions-oriented attitudes rather than ongoing complaints."

Sure, work can often be annoying, but instead of focusing on the frustrating aspects of a project, Miller said employees should calmly acknowledge the challenges and then offer streamlined solutions.

Nguyen Huy, founder of Hawaiin T-shirt company Trendy Aloha, offered similar sentiments, saying endless complaining can dampen a team's spirit.

So, next time you want to rant about work with your coworker, make sure the boss isn't within earshot.

2. Waiting to be told what to do

Bosses value proactive self-starters, career experts said. Conversely, employees who wait to be told what to do may appear to lack initiative.

"Don't wait to be given projects or told what to do — use your brain and figure out what needs to be done," Katherine Kirkinis, a career coach for Wanderlust Careers, said. "Create a plan, get permission to move forward, and do it."

Managers may become easily frustrated by employees who can't figure out how to spend their time, and a repeated lack of initiative could spark some bosses to start micromanaging, Kirkinis added.

Workplace experts said employees need to demonstrate early and often that they can identify problems, suggest fixes, and execute solutions.

"Instead of saying, 'What should I do next?' consider proposing a plan of action with, 'I've noticed we need to address X. Here's how I think we can tackle it'," Miller added.

3. Failing to follow up

Communication is key in the workplace.

"Not following up on tasks or updates can be a major source of frustration. It leaves managers in the dark and can disrupt workflow," Prerika Agarwal, founder and CEO of Inspiration Careers, said.

Kraig Kleeman, CEO of The New Workforce and founder of Z-Branding, said his company almost lost a client once because someone forgot to send a simple follow-up email, adding that follow-ups at his company are not just encouraged but expected.

Employees should provide regular updates, even when there's no significant progress. Keeping all parties informed is crucial to maintaining trust and transparency on a team, Agarwal added.

Finding a sweet spot between communicating too little and too much can be challenging. But Huy said he would almost always rather hear too much than be left in the dark.

4. Asking too many questions

On the flip side, your boss probably doesn't want to hear from you too often. Employees should be mindful of how often they are asking their managers questions, workplace experts said.

While it's normal for new employees to need extra help, bosses appreciate people who can solve their own problems and who keep questions direct.

"No one is going to fire you for asking too many questions, but you may be perceived as anxious, lacking confidence, and unable to figure things out on your own," Kirkinis said.

Good managers understand that questions are a natural part of the learning process, Agarwal added, and the best bosses are patient in answering. However, employees can avoid annoying their managers by bundling questions rather than sending them one by one.

"This not only respects the manager's time but also shows that the employee is organized and considerate," she said.

5. Procrastinating

Time management is among the most valued employee skills, career experts said, and nothing irks a boss more than procrastination.

"Procrastination is like slow poison for productivity," Kleeman said. "When workers put off their tasks, it not only impacts how well they do but also pulls down the whole team."

Managers expect their employees to make effective use of their time, Stephen Greet, CEO and cofounder of BeamJobs, said. Even during downtime, employees can find ways to take on more work, participate in professional development activities, or look for ways to simply procedures and increase productivity, he added.

"Employees who are seen to be passing the time or doing non-work related things during downtime may come across as not being totally committed to their jobs or the success of the company," Greet said.

Ultimately, good employees need to do more than simply meet their deadlines, Kleeman said. They need to show they are dedicated and dependable.

6. Gossiping

No gossip is juicier than workplace gossip. Talking about your coworkers and colleagues scratches a primal itch. But bosses might not appreciate the backhanded chatter, career experts said.

"Some people use gossip as a way to bond, but gossip can be hurtful, especially in the workplace," Kirkinis said.

Melissa Meyers, a leadership and transition coach, said employees should never talk about their peers behind their backs. Embracing diversity of thought and people's disparate opinions is imperative to a well-functioning team, she added.

"If something is bothering you about another person you are working with, take it up with them first rather than involving your boss," Kirkinis said. "Eventually, if your boss needs to be involved, so be it, but try to work it out among yourselves."

• Sabina Horrocks plans to re-enter the workforce after her mini-retirement in a lower-stress role.
• She and her husband achieved financial independence with a net worth near $2 million.
• Many financially independent millennials are rejecting early retirement, seeking fulfilling work.

Sabina Horrocks, 41, recently stepped away from her six-figure managerial position to care for her young daughter. But after three years of mini-retirement, she's itching to return to work.

She and her husband have a net worth of just below $2 million, and both made similar incomes before she quit in 2021. Her husband has since doubled his income and has little intention of stopping, even though both could step away and retire early.

When her daughter enrolls in kindergarten soon, Horrocks said she will return to the workforce but not to the high-stress position she held. Instead, given the luxury to pursue her passions, she's considering financial coaching or planning as options.

"We didn't do anything extraordinary — I'd say the way we became millionaires is quite boring," she told Business Insider. "That's the thing I think most people don't understand. Becoming wealthy isn't hustles, dealmaking, and flash. It's discipline and consistency over time."

Many millennials who have achieved financial independence — where people have enough to cover expenses without relying on work — are rejecting the "retire early" part of the FIRE acronym. Some have tried out retirement but dislike the lack of structure, while others have stepped down from high-stress positions but have embraced more casual work. Some continue rising the ranks to teach their kids strong work ethics.

Discovering financial independence

Horrocks' parents came to the US in the 1970s and struggled to find work. She grew up lower-middle class in the outskirts of Chicago, and while she said her parents never had trouble putting food on the table, she lived a very modest lifestyle.

She got a scholarship for her first two years of college, though she regrets not getting a computer science or math degree. Her first job was with a union, which didn't pay well. She also met her husband young, and they married after both secured their first corporate jobs.

Right after their marriage, she said they were approached by a company trying to sell them financial services to help plan their financial futures. While they thought it was a scam at first, they realized this was a wake-up call to start reading up on how to plan for the next five, then 10 years. Their No. 1 change was saving much more of their income.

"I had never thought about our future financial goals. Nobody's ever really talked about in my house, aside from affording certain things," she said. "We were always trying to save, and my parents would go to four grocery stores on the weekends to save $3 on bread and eggs."

For instance, their first home was a one-bedroom, one-bath condo that cost $137,000, significantly smaller than the homes their friends in similar financial situations were purchasing. In the late 2000s, her husband said there was no reason to spend $350,000 on a condo in a city with tons of fees when they could get a larger home in the suburbs for half the price.

"My husband and I have always worked together as a team, and we've treated finances in our marriage like a business. We've always had transparency, goals, and shared effort," she said. "We treat income as household income, not mine or yours. I personally don't understand how marriages can survive with no transparency and a 'my' mentality."

After the housing bubble burst, their home lost $60,000 in value, and tenants rushed out of the building while others foreclosed. They were worried about what to do next, though they rented out the condo a few years later and purchased a townhome.

Strategies for achieving financial independence

After doing some reading, they decided to cut back on their costs. They sold one of their cars, purchased a modest home, and limited their spending on travel and nights out with friends. They also plowed money into investments such as ETFs and individual stocks early on.

She admits they initially went a little overboard with budgeting, such as pushing beauty salon visits to the next month so they didn't exceed their budget. She said it "created a monster" initially, though strict budgeting helped them stay on track to reach their longer-term goals.

They tried buying investment properties right after the bubble, and they acquired six condos for about $50,000 to $70,000 each. They made a $1,000 monthly profit from them, and she thought they would quit their jobs and do this full-time. Her husband hated it, though, and over time they eventually sold all their properties and put that money into retirement accounts.

She continued to work up the corporate ladder, learning more about data models, Excel, and languages like SQL. Early in her career, a major layoff axed nearly her entire department, and she and her husband continued to work "extremely hard" to have a cushion in case of layoffs.

In the 2010s, she bounced around a few companies as a sales operations manager, developing processes to improve efficiency and grow client bases. She also got an MBA, which her company helped pay for.

She made about $120,000 a year by the time she quit, similar to her husband. Over the years, she and her husband built a net worth upwards of $1 million, and she quit knowing that they would be fine in case of future layoffs or an emergency.

"I think work is not the goal. People get so career-driven, thinking they need to become vice presidents or become a manager to 30 people," she said. "To me, work is just work. What's important is your friends and having time to do the thing you really want to do."

She and her husband have a net worth of nearly $2 million. This includes about $1.16 million in retirement accounts, $460,000 in an after-tax brokerage account, $250,000 in home equity, $30,000 in an HSA, $25,000 in a 529, and $25,000 in savings.

Rejecting 'RE' and returning to work

After she had her baby, her husband took paternity leave while she returned to her managerial position. She recalled having eight hours of meetings one day that she had no desire to attend, and she decided that day to quit.

"I didn't want to be locked in a room for eight hours talking about how the website should be or picklist values when I could just be here with my baby," she said. "My husband was like, you can just quit. We have enough money coming in from rental properties, my husband was doing pretty well at his job, and I was work-optional."

They've become more relaxed about their spending and invest in meaningful experiences. Last month, she decided to go on a transatlantic cruise with her daughter and mom.

"We're at a point now where we're able to do things like that, and I think it was because, in our 20s, we made some big sacrifices," she said. "We had a small wedding, we lived in a small place, we've only had one car for most of our marriage."

Still, Horrocks thinks she's ready to return to the workforce. She no longer needs to strive for the highest-paying or most prestigious position, and she's considered becoming a financial coach to help people achieve their financial goals.

"I think a lot of Financial Advisors make finance complicated and don't make it transparent in a real everyday way," she said. "Also, a lot of financial advisors don't have their client's best interests at heart and aren't wealthy themselves."

She acknowledges she feels some imposter syndrome, questioning if people would listen to a stay-at-home mom, though she said she wants to help people become financially confident. She also hopes to continue writing for her blog, the Moneyaires.

"Who better to learn from than someone who has walked the walk?" she said.

The typical home loan in America is a gift. It's also a trap.

Most US homeowners have loans that guarantee they'll pay the same amount each month for decades, regardless of inflation or the shifting winds of the economy. These are called 30-year fixed-rate mortgages, and they offer rare bright spots of certainty in the housing market's endless cycle of booms and busts. Lock in a favorable rate, and you're on the steady track to prosperity.

But these sweetheart deals can cause big problems. When mortgage rates shoot up, as they did over the past two years, many would-be sellers decide they don't want to move after all. Sure, a new home could be nice, but trading up would mean parting ways with a cheap mortgage rate. What may have been a welcome change suddenly sounds like a painful, expensive divorce. So they sit tight. A gummed-up housing market is good for nobody: First-time buyers can't find enough homes for sale, and wannabe sellers remain trapped in places that are either too big or too small. This is called the lock-in effect — and it could linger for decades.

"Unfortunately, we've known about the lock-in possibility for many, many years," John Campbell, a Harvard economist, told me. "But we didn't fix the roof while the sun was shining, and now it's raining."

Economists and housing wonks are obsessed with this uniquely American problem. One estimate suggests the lock-in effect prevented more than 1 million people from selling their homes in the span of just a year and a half, a steep toll considering about 5 million homes exchange hands in a typical year. I used to think of these golden handcuffs as an inevitable side effect of the magical 30-year fixed mortgage. But it doesn't have to be this way. The answer to our problems may lie thousands of miles away … in Denmark.

Many homeowners in Denmark, like their American counterparts, enjoy 30-year fixed-rate mortgages. But thanks to a quirk of their housing-finance system, Danish sellers are able to earn a profit when they trade in their low mortgage rates for more-expensive ones, making it easier to move even when rates rise. As a result, the Danes dodge the lock-in effect entirely.

Implementing a similar system in the US would require an overhaul of our mortgage market and would almost surely be met with lots of foot-dragging from regulators and investors. But the alternative — twiddling our thumbs until the next Housing Ice Age — is far worse. Maybe it's time we take a page out of the Scandinavian playbook instead.

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Buyers may remember the pandemic-era housing market for its worst qualities: the bidding wars, the late-night doomscrolling on Zillow, the smug investors bragging on TikTok about how many homes they flipped that month. But regular house hunters scored a pretty good deal in at least one respect: Home loans were outrageously cheap. The typical 30-year mortgage rate plummeted to a record low of about 2.65% in late 2020, according to Freddie Mac. Existing homeowners pounced on the opportunity, too, refinancing their mortgages to get new loans with cheaper rates.

As the Federal Reserve began pushing up borrowing rates in the spring of 2022, hoping to reel in rising inflation, mortgage rates went vertical. Rates doubled in less than a year, with the typical rate nearing 8% in October, a 20-year high. Rates have fallen a little since then, but they're still hovering at about 7%. In the grand scheme of things, that's not crazy at all — buyers who bought homes in the early '80s may recall rates closer to 18%. But for buyers and homeowners who got used to rock-bottom rates in the decade after the financial crisis, the reversal was chilling.

A recent working paper from the Federal Housing Finance Agency estimated that the lock-in effect prevented 1.3 million home sales between mid-2022 and the end of 2023. The vast majority of US mortgages have fixed rates — about 96% at the end of last year — and 63% of those had rates below 4%. The agency estimated that with rates at about 7%, these homeowners would pay roughly $500 more each month on their mortgage if they got a new rate on a house of the same value. If you do a little convoluted math to figure out what all those extra payments would be worth in today's dollars, it'd be like taking $60,000 and lighting it on fire, according to the FHFA's calculations.

Even if rates were to fall to 6% or 5.5%, "you're still going to have people who are not going to move, who are not going to give up their house forever, basically," Will Doerner, an economist at the FHFA and a coauthor of the paper, told me. "It's going to take a heck of a change for them to ever want to get rid of those mortgages."

OK, so maybe you're not shedding any tears on behalf of these homeowners sitting on piles of equity and their sweet, sweet mortgage rates. But the lock-in effect warps the entire housing market. Fewer sellers means buyers compete for a smaller pool of available homes, driving up prices and locking out many first-time and low-income buyers. It means many people who want to move — to find a better job, start a family, upgrade, or downsize — don't have that option. A once theoretical hang-up has turned into a massive headache.

Unfortunately, we've known about the lock-in possibility for many, many years. But we didn't fix the roof while the sun was shining, and now it's raining.

These golden shackles are a problem only in America. In Canada, the UK, or Australia, you can get a loan with a fixed rate for maybe five or 10 years, but then it'll adjust periodically to match the swings in the economy. Homeowners in these countries may not have to grapple with the same lock-in effect, but their monthly budgets get hit when borrowing rates go up.

Then there's Denmark, the only other country in which similar 30-year fixed-rate mortgages are widely available — more than half of Danish borrowers have them. And just as they have in the US, rates for those mortgages have risen sharply. Over the course of 2022, the typical rate for a 30-year mortgage in Denmark climbed by roughly 4 percentage points, the largest jump in 40 years. But Denmark's housing-finance system is almost perfectly designed to shield it from the lock-in effect. And it's all thanks to a bit of financial magic known as covered bonds.

I really wish these things had sexier names, because if 30-year-fixed mortgages are gifts to homeowners, then covered bonds are straight-up miracles. Here's how they work: When a bank gives a mortgage to a homebuyer, it creates matching bonds that it sells to investors. The bank gets cash to extend more loans, and the owners of these covered bonds get a steady stream of payments from the people paying back the mortgage. The value of the bonds, and therefore the value of the underlying mortgages, rises and falls like any other asset traded in the financial markets. When borrowing rates for new mortgages go up, the value of bonds tied to older, cheaper mortgages goes down — in the eyes of investors hungry for higher returns, a loan that pays 7% interest is worth more than one that pays only 3%. This does not mean, however, that the value of the actual house has dropped; even if bond investors aren't as keen on the underlying loan, there may be plenty of regular buyers who still want the house. So far, this system of pooling together mortgage bonds and selling them to investors is pretty close to the American way of doing things. The real magic happens later, when it comes time to settle up.

When US homeowners pay off their mortgages, they have only one option: pony up the amount left on the loan. But when Danish homeowners pay off their mortgages, they have two choices: pay back the balance of their home loan, same as Americans, or pay the market value, which is the amount their covered bonds would trade for on the open market. If interest rates go up and the value of those bonds falls below the amount remaining on their loan, it becomes cheaper for the Danes to pay off their mortgages.

Here's an example in dollars: Let's say the face value of a mortgage, or the amount a homeowner would have to pay to get rid of it, is $500,000. But then interest rates rise by, say, 4 percentage points. In the US, this turn of events would trap many homeowners in their house; they would have to not only pay back the $500,000 but get a new mortgage with higher interest payments. In the Danish model, the same situation could work out in the homeowner's favor. That's because as general interest rates rise, the market value of the covered bonds, and therefore the underlying mortgage, drops. So instead of having to pay back the entire mortgage, the Danish homeowner could go out and buy back matching bonds for, let's say, $400,000. If they sell their home for $700,000, they get to pocket $300,000 instead of only $200,000 (not including pesky fees, of course).

This lucky Danish homeowner may have to turn around and buy another home with a higher rate, sure, but the profit from paying back their loan at its market value gives them a buffer to do so. Danes don't even have to sell their house to unlock their savings — they can choose to refinance. In that case, they would have to borrow only $400,000 instead of $500,000 to pay off the original loan. Again, the interest rate on the new loan is higher, but the principal balance is lower, so the monthly payments would stay roughly the same.

In essence, Danes reap all the rewards when rates go up and face none of the downside risks when rates fall. Their mortgages are also assumable, which means sellers can hand off their loans to qualifying buyers. As a result, Danish homeowners don't cling to their low-rate mortgages the way Americans do. Their setup "eliminates the lock-in effect," Campbell told me.

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While the Danish system may seem complex, it's not totally absurd to think we could adopt something similar here. It would take a lot of work: overhauls of Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac, a massive education campaign for consumers, and maybe even an act of Congress. It's not as if you can just wave a wand and grant homeowners permission to start paying back their mortgages at market value — the existing contracts explicitly lay out the repayment terms, and mortgage bonds are bundled together here in a way that makes it impossible to pluck one out of the pool as they do in Denmark.

Anything that gives consumers protection from rising interest rates would come at a cost, too. Banks would demand borrowers pay higher interest rates from the start of their loans, Jesper Berg, the former director of the Danish Financial Supervisory Authority, told me. Danish mortgage rules are stricter in other ways that favor the lender: Borrowers are required to put down 20% of the home's price, and foreclosures are speedy thanks to a more creditor-friendly legal system.

I just think it's a more efficient system that will prevent problems for both individual borrowers who get stuck and for the economy as a whole.

But there's still a way forward. There is some precedent for sweeping changes to mortgages — think back to the financial crisis in the mid-2000s, when the government instituted massive programs like HARP to help underwater homeowners refinance their mortgages. It required investor buy-in and lots of rule changes to rework existing loan terms, but it showed a willingness to adapt in dire circumstances.

Campbell isn't some starry-eyed dreamer who thinks we can snuff out these issues overnight. Embracing the Danish approach to mortgages would require much bigger changes than the recession-era programs, and mortgage reform tends to move at a glacial pace. But the lock-in effect is the kind of intractable problem that demands big solutions. The Danish model combines the best of the US mortgage market — the stability, the cost savings for homeowners — with consumer protections to ensure they're not held hostage by those same perks. The Danes can move around during times when it would make little financial sense for US borrowers to do so. That's not just good for buyers or sellers or mortgage loan officers — it's good for everyone.

"I just think it's a more efficient system that will prevent problems for both individual borrowers who get stuck," Campbell told me, "and for the economy as a whole, which suffers when people get locked in."

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James Rodriguez is a senior reporter on Business Insider's Discourse team.

• New Mexico's basic income pilot provided $500 monthly to 330 immigrant households.
• Pandemic relief excluded many immigrants, leading to economic hardship for undocumented families.
• The pilot showed improved employment and education outcomes for participants.

New Mexico's basic income pilot set out to fill a gap in America's financial safety net: many immigrants aren't able to access help.

Pandemic-era relief was largely restricted to US citizens, leaving undocumented households and families with mixed citizenship status without stimulus, rental assistance, or unemployment checks.

With growing economic need, community leaders in New Mexico decided to try a different strategy — no-strings-attached cash payments.

"Mixed-status immigrant families don't always enjoy the same public benefits that other families and workers do because of their status," Marcela Díaz, executive director of economic justice organization Somos Un Pueblo Unido, told Business Insider. "What does it look like for them to have an extra $500 a month? How does it affect food security, their health, their well-being, and educational outcomes?"

Beginning in February 2022, the guaranteed income program served 330 mixed-immigration status households. Participants received $500 a month, no strings attached, for a full year. Fifty randomly selected households had their payments extended for an additional six months.

The New Mexico Economic Relief Working Group — a coalition of community organizations and nonprofits, including Somos Un Pueblo Unido, New Mexico Voices for Children, and UpTogether — administered the program, and funding came from private donors and philanthropy.

The pilot joins the ranks of over 100 basic income pilots that have launched across the US since 2019. In contrast to traditional social services, the programs allow families to choose how they spend the money. Participants have told BI they have used cash payments to pay rent, afford groceries, pay off debt, and support their families.

New Mexico's program is among the first basic income programs to operate at the state level and to specifically serve immigrant households.

The pilot's success has also provided momentum for future basic income programs in the region. A new state-funded pilot cash program for people enrolled in workforce training programs passed in the New Mexico House in February. The $1 million project, which seeks approval in the state Senate, would help participants cover housing, food, and transportation for three years.

"People use the money to feed themselves and to keep a roof over their head," Javier Rojo, senior research and policy analyst with New Mexico Voices for Children and author of the pilot report, told BI. "They use it very wisely to put themselves in a better position economically in the future."

With basic income, participants saw improved employment and education outcomes

The New Mexico pilot served mixed-status households in 13 counties across the state. The program's state-level scope allowed participants in both rural and urban areas to benefit.

Almost all pilot participants were families with children. Ninety-five percent reported having to use household savings to pay bills, 85% reported being housing insecure, and 74% lacked health insurance.

Before the pilot began, participants in rural areas experienced higher housing and food insecurity than urban participants but also saw better employment incomes after the program concluded. Basic income reduced the amount of urban participants who skipped basic necessities to pay for housing by 13% by the end of the pilot.

The children of participants were also more likely to be learning at their grade level and on track to graduate than before the basic income.

A woman in Doña Ana County also said her job security improved because she was able to buy a cell phone.

"I clean houses. At the beginning of the pandemic, I didn't have a phone, so it was very difficult for me to connect with potential clients," she told researchers, "With the help of my new phone, I've been able to set up more appointments and create a more stable work schedule."

Republican legislatures continue to seek to ban basic income across the US, saying it will make low-income Americans too reliant on government assistance.

Rojo, however, said the New Mexico pilot results show that participants became more active in the labor market with the support of cash payments. Some families reported using their basic income to secure the transportation or childcare they needed to support a full-time work schedule.

Going forward, he would like to continue seeing basic income used at the city, state, and federal level to support low-income families.

"People know best what their needs are and people know how to use their money to better themselves," he said. "Trust them."

Have you benefitted from a guaranteed basic income program? Are you open to sharing how you spent the money? If so, reach out to this reporter at allisonkelly@businessinsider.com.

• Young workers value job flexibility nearly as much as competitive pay, a survey showed.
• Gen Zers prioritize flexibility for work-life balance, research indicates.
• Most Gen Zers prefer in-person or hybrid work setups over fully remote work.

For some young workers, having flexibility in their jobs is nearly as important as how much they get paid.

In a survey of Gen Zers in the US by the career platform iHire, 81.3% said choice over "when, where, and how" they would do a job was either "extremely" or "very" important.

That was nearly in line with the 82.2% who said having a potential employer offer a "fair and competitive" salary was either extremely or very important.

The survey involved nearly 1,100 Gen Zers and took place in March and April.

The findings highlight what's a priority for some among the youngest slice of the labor force. That matters, in part, because Gen Zers are likely to overtake boomers in terms of full-time US workers in 2024. While finding desk jobs is harder for some people than a few years ago, some employers are still struggling to find workers.

The office looks good

Unlike some older workers, a majority of young people appeared eager to head into the office, according to the survey. Nearly 56% of Gen Zers said they wanted to work in person all the time, and about one in four wanted a hybrid setup. Only about 18% wanted to work remotely full time.

Other surveys have shown the desire for an in-person connection. In late 2023, Seramount, a professional services and research firm, interviewed workers from various generations. As Business Insider previously reported, nearly three-quarters of Gen Zers told Seramount they preferred a hybrid setup. But only about half of the workers in older generations said the same.

That approach — in the office some days and at home on others — appears to be the routine many companies have adopted.

Being for four days

Another type of flexibility young people said was a priority — even more than unlimited paid time off and remote work — was having a four-day workweek. Some employers in recent years have conducted experiments with working four, eight-hour days for the same pay as five days. Other employers have tried the 4-and-a-half-day workweek.

In the survey, nearly 59% of Gen Zers said they preferred flex time. About 45% said a four-day workweek was a top draw. And about four in 10 said unlimited PTO was a priority; nearly 38% said the same about working remotely.

The survey also highlighted hurdles some young people say they could face in landing a role. One in three Gen Z respondents said negative stereotypes about their generation would hurt their job search or career advancement in the next year.

Among more than 250 employers iHire surveyed, some respondents complained about some young people having a sense of entitlement, unrealistic expectations, or insufficient office etiquette.

The survey respondents also generalized about young people being "tech savvy" and "socially conscious."

Stacie Haller, the chief career advisor at Resume Builder, previously told BI that generational badmouthing in the workplace is nothing new.

In a recent Resume Builder survey, about one-third of hiring managers said they didn't want to bring in young workers or those who are older.

"Every generation gets talked about. The millennials, at one point, were entitled. Nobody wanted to hire them," Haller said. "And now they're the age group that's biased against everybody else."

• Grace Ryu helped her 60-year-old dad get a job at her workplace when he retired as a business owner.
• Ryu vouched for her dad and sat with him during his Zoom job interview to translate.  
• It's the first time her dad ever received health insurance through an employer and a 401(k).

My dad owned a wide variety of businesses. We grew up in Maryland, where he ran a mini-mart in downtown Baltimore. Many Koreans owned liquor stores and mini-marts back in the 1990s, and when my dad talks about that business, he says those were the good days when he made a lot of money.

He worked every day from Sunday through Saturday and only took time off for one weekend in the summer when we went on a family trip to Ocean City. He even worked every holiday.

Because he worked a lot, I don't have too many childhood memories with him. But I do remember that every night after work, he'd go into his room, take out all the money he earned that day, and count it all before dinner time. I thought, "Wow, my dad is so rich."

My mom told me that he works hard so that he can take care of our whole family, which includes our grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins. Of course, I didn't understand the kind of burden that was at the time — I was only 6 years old — but I just knew whatever my dad was doing was super important.

My dad owned many businesses

My dad moved us from Baltimore to California for better business opportunities in 2001, when I was 9 years old, but it was harder out here than it was in Maryland. He owned a dry cleaning business for a few years, but that was more of a struggle than owning a mini-mart, with more work and less revenue.

He eventually moved on to owning a small deli shop with the help of his brother. He did this, alongside my mom, for 16 years. My dad worked the grill and made the hot dishes while my mom took customer orders and packed the food.

In 2021, a little after the height of the COVID-19 pandemic, their lease was coming to an end. They had two options: either renew it for another five years or sell the business and find something else to do.

My parents chose to sell because I was pregnant, and they wanted to be close to their future grandkids.

I vouched for my dad at my job

My dad told me that he still wanted to work after he sold the lease. He wasn't ready to retire — mostly for financial reasons.

He talked about working with my cousin in a dental lab or doing transportation for the elderly, but those jobs either required him to learn a whole new skill or get some type of license. He's been in the food industry for the last 16 years, and while my dad is sharp for a 60-year-old, I didn't think a big career pivot was the right move for him.

That's when I thought he could get a job working in the kitchen at the hospital where I worked. I talked to the manager of food services at my hospital and asked if they'd give my dad a job in the kitchen. I vouched for my dad and explained to the manager the different skill sets he picked up from owning all his businesses.

Whatever I said worked because my dad landed the job. He had a formal Zoom interview, which I attended to help with any translation. We were thrilled — the job came with benefits, so for the first time, my dad was receiving health insurance through an employer and signing up for a 401(k).

At first, helping my dad at work was challenging

As ecstatic as we were about him getting this job, going through the onboarding was a beast. He's lived in America for 36 years, yet his English was barely at an elementary reading level. This was mostly because my mom took on most of the administrative work when it came to the business. She was the one who talked to the customers, vendors, and inspectors while my dad hid in the back, cleaning and doing whatever else my mom needed him to do.

A big part of me was relieved I'd be close by to help him if he had any questions since I knew the hospital and how it worked. I knew helping my dad navigate through the hospital's system wouldn't be a problem, but being the middleman between him and others was difficult.

The language barrier was one thing, but the other challenge was his unfamiliarity with modern technology — he has never owned or used a computer in his life and struggles to even use his smartphone.

I had to fill out all of his onboarding paperwork since it was all online, and he couldn't be placed on some of the easier jobs, like taking orders for patients or administrative work. He was placed in the kitchen, where he plates patients' trays for mealtimes and does the dishes.

He wanted to quit after a few days

Working at the hospital was the first time my dad had a boss other than himself, and I think he might've felt looked down on because of it. Many traditional Korean men pride themselves on owning their own businesses and making a lot of money.

The first few days of work were the hardest for my dad, so hard that he wanted to quit. The language barrier, the cultural differences, and the technological illiteracy all became too much for him to handle.

I never pressured him to stay because I knew this job would be challenging for him. I told him I'd support him if he decided to quit, but my hope was that he would stay so that I could help him out with whatever problems came his way since we were in the same building.

It took him two months to feel comfortable at his job, and he absolutely loves it now. In fact, he loves work so much that he picks up extra shifts. He's learned more English so he can voice his concerns and ask questions to his supervisor, and he's always so excited to introduce me to his coworkers even though he's already introduced them to me before.

I love working with my dad

When I have a shift on the same day as my dad, I like to visit him in the kitchen. One day, on my way out, I looked back and saw my dad doing the dishes — and I wanted to cry. He was all wet, and seeing him do such a hard and thankless job broke my heart. The only reason I knew my dad was OK was because of how he looks as he works: he's always smiling with so much enthusiasm and joy.

In the 30 years I've seen him work, his demeanor and work ethic have never changed. Whether stocking groceries, ironing clothes in 100-degree weather, or making a big order of 100 breakfast burritos at 4 a.m., he never complains. He's taught me to do all things with joy, especially in my workplace.

I love the days I get to take breaks with my dad. We sit in the cafeteria and talk about how work is going, if there are things he needs me to do, or our family dinner plans. Ever since my dad started working with me, I've documented our time together. I always want to film myself watching him at work.

People in the hospital probably think I'm crazy for taking selfies with my dad and filming myself saying hi to him, but honestly, I don't care because I'm so insanely proud of him. He's my role model and the most hardworking and happiest person I know. I love working with my dad.

Grace Ryu is a registered nurse also studying to be a family nurse practitioner. She's a wife and new mom and loves spending time with her family in her free time.

• Jean Kang left a successful career in Big Tech to pursue entrepreneurship full-time in February.
• Kang enjoyed the perks of the industry but felt overwhelmed by the hustle culture and mental strain.
• Now she enjoys the freedom of setting her own schedule as a content creator and career coach.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Jean Kang, a 31-year-old senior programmer who's worked at Meta, Pinterest, Intuit, LinkedIn, and Figma in San Francisco. It's been edited for length and clarity.

I always wanted to work in Big Tech, and when I graduated from college, I made it happen.

From sales to account management, customer success, and program management, I pivoted more than seven times and landed dream roles at Intuit in 2014, Meta at the beginning of 2017, Pinterest at the end of 2017, and LinkedIn in 2020.

For the last two and a half years, I was a strategic program manager at Figma, earning over $300,000 a year in total compensation.

I accomplished my dream, but I decided to give it all up.

Working in Big Tech has lots of perks

I loved learning how each of these big companies operated. It was amazing to see world-class people build teams and always be on the cutting edge of technology like AI and machine learning. I was always fascinated, learning something new, and having fun.

My favorite company I worked for was Figma because I had it all — kind bosses, fun projects, amazing products, and growth opportunities.

I was spoiled with tech benefits in every role — great pay, free food, remote work, gym memberships, massages, and more. At LinkedIn, we had monthly InDay, where employees take the day to focus on themselves, the company, and the world. At Pinterest and Meta, there was free breakfast, lunch, dinner, drinks, and snacks.

I have to admit, the perks started to get to my head. I wanted more and more and never felt truly satisfied. I left companies for the next opportunity if I didn't feel aligned with my bosses or the work culture, or felt underpaid. Other times, I chose to leave to put my family first, like when I became the primary caretaker for my mother.

My mental health was impacted

I felt pressure to do things fast and navigate red tape. I often waited for approval from senior leadership, and it could take a few months to launch a project.

The hustle culture felt overwhelming at times. The pressure to beat the competition and overdeliver was stressful. I would work up to 12-hour days and on weekends. My life became my work, and accepting that I let work define me was difficult.

I realized I was just making big companies more money. It got to a point where I thought to myself, why am I working so late when I'm not curing cancer?

It felt like I was in an elusive Silicon Valley club — almost like "Mean Girls." The people around me would only talk about other tech companies and tech advancements and only hang out with other tech workers. I didn't feel like I belonged.

I knew when it was time to go

After a round of layoffs in January 2023, many of us were humbled. I realized that tech was no longer safe, I was replaceable, and I needed to invest in what truly mattered — my well-being, family, and relationships.

I'd been juggling a few side hustles in the evenings after work for over a year, and they changed my life. After getting a taste of entrepreneurship while working my 9-to-5, I couldn't help but wonder, what if I went all in on myself? If other people can do it, why can't I?

I decided to quit in February. My biggest fear was failing, but I knew I'd regret not betting on myself and could always land another job after I tried this. I did have savings, but what gave me peace was knowing I could lean on my husband for support.

My side hustles led to becoming a content creator and career coach full-time.

Since leaving Big Tech, I feel like a new person

I'm so much happier now. I used to have really bad Sunday scaries, and they disappeared overnight. I no longer have anxiety — I used to think about work all the time, and now, I sleep peacefully knowing I don't have to please anyone but myself.

I love working remotely as my own boss instead of in an office for someone else. It's incredibly liberating to work wherever and whenever I want. The flexibility is now a non-negotiable for me.

Freedom is another huge perk of my new life. After leaving my job, I took two weeks off with my husband to travel to Japan and Korea, and it was the best trip ever. I felt liberated knowing I wouldn't return to work, anxiously thinking about how much work awaited me.

I now choose what projects make me happy and don't give myself too much pressure to succeed. I work 30 to 40 hours and some weekends now, but not because I have to — I want to.

The success I've had so far is encouraging to me

I thought I wanted to give myself one year to test being an entrepreneur. If I had realized this life wasn't meant for me and craved stability beyond the money, I would've considered returning to a 9-to-5 job.

Instead, I'm on track to exceed six figures by the end of 2024, I've grown my LinkedIn into a huge, supportive community, landed multiple five-figure brand deals, gained many clients, and sold out my career cohort.

I miss working with smart and kind people and having steady pay with great benefits, but the benefits of my freedom outweigh all of those perks. I'm building the life of my dreams. This is freedom.