• A Native American costume designer for ‘Killers of the Flower Moon’ is suing Apple, saying it denied her proper credit

    Jim Hemphill, Rodrigo Prieto and Jacqueline West, right, at IndieWire's event for "Killers of the Flower Moon"  in Los Angeles, California.
    Jim Hemphill, Rodrigo Prieto and Jacqueline West, right, at IndieWire's event for "Killers of the Flower Moon" in Los Angeles, California.

    • A Native American costume designer on 'Killers of the Flower Moon' is suing Apple and others.
    • She alleges that her work on the Martin Scorsese movie was overlooked during awards season.
    • The costume designer has already settled a racial discrimination claim against Apple.

    A Native American costume designer for "Killers of the Flower Moon," who previously settled a racial discrimination charge with Apple, is going after the company again.

    Kristi Marie Hoffman claims her contributions to Martin Scorsese's movie, originally an Apple TV+ production, about murders within the Osage Nation, were downplayed during the awards season.

    Hoffman filed the lawsuit on Wednesday in Los Angeles Superior Court, accusing costume designer Jacqueline West, Apple Studios, Apple, and the Costume Designers Guild (CDG) of "completely burying" her work.

    In the lawsuit, Hoffman, a member of a federally recognized tribe, said West invited her to join "Killers of the Flower Moon" because of her "design expertise and cultural competency."

    The lawsuit said she worked for a year alongside West, Osage Nation members, and other Native Americans to create authentic costumes, including a jacket worn by Leonardo DiCaprio.

    The movie received critical acclaim, earning 10 Academy Award nominations, seven Golden Globe nominations, and a CDG award for Excellence in Period Film, among others.

    It also generated $156.4 million globally, according to Screen Rant, though Forbes said this was against a budget of $200 million.

    According to the lawsuit, Hoffman was identified as "First Assistant Costume Designer" when the CDG award nominations were first announced.

    However, the lawsuit claims that West requested the removal of this credit, which was applied to all assistant costume designers.

    Hoffman challenged this change with the CDG, according to the suit, which found West's action "improper" and reinstated her title.

    However, it said that Hoffman was again excluded when the movie was nominated for an Oscar for costume design.

    The lawsuit claims that Hoffman's involvement was overlooked during the promotional tour, with defendants presenting West and a consultant as having done most of the work.

    Hoffman said in the lawsuit that she completed "most of the research and costume design" and "poured her heart into KOTFM as a film about Native Americans to which she could relate as a Native herself."

    The lawsuit also stated that Hoffman experienced racial discrimination on set, leading to her filing a charge with the Equal Employment Opportunity Commission in July 2021 against Apple Studios, Apple TV+, and Apple Inc.

    According to the lawsuit, the parties resolved the issue with a confidential settlement in December 2022.

    The lawsuit against Apple and others brings claims for intentional and negligent infliction of emotional distress, false advertising, and breach of contract. It seeks an unspecified amount of damages.

    It also requests an injunction preventing the defendants from making statements downplaying Hoffman's contributions.

    Apple, the CDG, and representatives for West did not immediately respond to requests for comment from Business Insider.

    Read the original article on Business Insider
  • Putin has ‘both eyes’ on a strategic island belonging to new NATO member Sweden, army commander says

    Two Swedish military instructors in military clothing stand with their backs to the camera, watching a pair of soldiers fire a machine gun while lying on mossy ground on a grey day, outside Visby on the Swedish island of Gotland,  March 21, 2024
    Swedish military instructors watch as soldiers fire a machine gun on the Baltic island of Gotland, Sweden, March 21, 2024

    • Putin is eyeing a key island in the Baltic Sea to dominate the waters, Sweden's army chief said.
    • Gotland is near both Sweden and Russia's Kaliningrad exclave.
    • It became a key NATO asset after Sweden joined the bloc earlier this year.

    Russian President Vladimir Putin is targeting a strategic Swedish island that offers mastery over the Baltic Sea, the commander-in-chief of Sweden's army warned this week.

    "I'm sure that Putin even has both eyes on Gotland. Putin's goal is to gain control of the Baltic Sea," Micael Bydén told German news outlets, according to Politico's translation of his remarks.

    Sweden joined NATO in early March, and the alliance is now the dominant force in the Baltic Sea, thanks in large part to its control of Gotland.

    The island is one of the Baltic Sea's largest, situated about 50 miles from the Swedish coast and 150 miles from the Russian exclave of Kaliningrad. It's comparable in size to Rhode Island, but has a population of just 60,000.

    "If Russia takes control and seals off the Baltic Sea, it would have an enormous impact on our lives — in Sweden and all other countries bordering the Baltic Sea," Bydén said.

    "We can't allow that," he added.

    According to Bydén, Russia could seek to harm NATO's interests in the Baltic directly, or by underhanded tactics.

    He raised the possibility of Russia's aging oil tankers deliberately causing an environmental disaster there, with Moscow then passing it off as an accident.

    He also said the tankers offer Russia the possibilities for espionage, illicit transport, and underwater sabotage.

    More directly, invading Gotland would end the peace and stability of the Nordic and Baltic region, Bydén said.

    The sea cannot become "Putin's playground" from which he can intimidate the eight NATO countries that surround it, he added.

    Russia's Ministry of Defence did not immediately respond to Business Insider's request for comment on Bydén's remarks.

    Russia caused uproar this week with the publication of draft proposals to unilaterally redraw its map of the Baltic Sea, expanding its claim on what waters are part of Russia's territory, as The Moscow Times reported.

    Sweden Gotland Island C-130
    Swedish military officials watch a Swedish C-130H take off from a non-traditional runway on Gotland Island on October 23, 2021.

    The proposal quickly disappeared from the Russian government portal on which it had been posted, following scathing remarks from leaders in Lithuania, Finland, and Latvia, Politico reported.

    Fortifying Gotland was brought up as one of the first topics of discussion after Sweden joined NATO in March, Sweden's Prime Minister Ulf Kristersson told the Financial Times at the time.

    Following the relative calm of the post-Cold War years, the island was demilitarized in 2005.

    But in the wake of Russia's attacks on Ukraine, it has slowly seen an increased military presence, including the revival of Sweden's Gotland Regiment.

    Two months into Russia's full-scale invasion of Ukraine, the Swedish government allocated $160 million toward the island's military infrastructure.

    And late last year, the US signed a defense agreement with Sweden giving the US access to a number of military bases, including Gotland — a move that would enable it to move quickly against any threats in the region.

    Read the original article on Business Insider
  • UK drones have destroyed over $1.2 billion of Russian military gear in Ukraine, says British defense secretary

    Ukrainian soldier operating a drone during training of the 22nd Brigade in Donetsk Oblast, Ukraine
    A Ukrainian soldier operating a drone during training in Donetsk Oblast, Ukraine, on May 3, 2024.

    • UK drones sent to Ukraine have destroyed over $1.2 billion of Russian military gear, per Ukraine estimates.
    • The UK's defense secretary praised the impact of its drones at a defense forum this week.
    • Britain has provided over 4,000 drones since 2022, Grant Schapps said, according to The Telegraph.

    UK drones given to Ukraine have been used to take out more than $1.2 billion worth of Russian military gear, according to the UK's defense secretary, citing Ukrainian figures.

    "Our Ukrainian partners conservatively estimate that UK drones have destroyed over £1 billion worth of Russian hardware," Grant Shapps told a delegation of Ukrainian ministers at a defense forum in London on Monday, per The Telegraph.

    "Our cooperation has had an outstanding impact on the battlefield," Shapps added.

    The UK has provided over 4,000 drones to Ukraine since Russia launched its full-scale invasion in February 2022, Shapps said, according to the outlet, which included 30 different types of drones.

    Among these, Shapps said, were surveillance drones, which he said overcame "highly capable" Russian air-defense systems in Crimea, and medium-lift drones that have re-supplied Ukrainian forces over the Dnipro River with generators, food, water, and ammunition.

    He also mentioned one-way attack drones that are "making their mark," and drones that guide artillery and missiles toward Russian targets.

    In March, the UK's Ministry of Defence announced it would deliver an additional 10,000 drones to Ukraine, as part of its latest $413 million military aid package.

    Drones have played a key role in the war in Ukraine, with both sides relying on them heavily.

    Ukrainian drones have been credited with the destruction of two-thirds of Russian tanks taken out in the conflict, have inflicted damage on Russia's oil depots, and contributed to Russia losing a third of its Black Sea Fleet.

    In February, Ukraine announced it was setting up a separate branch of its military focused purely on drone warfare.

    The UK, alongside the US and others, has been supporting Ukraine in its drone warfare efforts.

    Last month, Shapps said that he hoped to speed up the production of a new high-tech laser weapon, dubbed DragonFire — originally scheduled for deployment by 2027 — so that Ukraine could use it against Russian drones.

    And last week, the UK Ministry of Defence announced it was developing a new radio-wave weapon designed to take out a "swarm" of drones for just $0.12 a shot, at a range of up to 1000 meters.

    Read the original article on Business Insider
  • Buying a piece of Nvidia is about to get a whole lot cheaper

    jensen huang in kuala lumpur
    Nvidia CEO Jensen Huang.

    • The price of a single Nvidia share is about to plummet, making the AI stock far more affordable.
    • The microchip giant's first-quarter earnings revealed plans for a 10-for-1 stock split in June.
    • Tesla, Chipotle, and Warren Buffett's Berkshire Hathaway have executed stock splits over the years.

    Buying a share of Nvidia is about to get a lot cheaper.

    The microchip maker announced a 10-for-1 stock split in its first-quarter earnings on Wednesday. The move means anyone who owns the company's common stock when the market closes on June 6 will receive nine additional shares for every share they own after the next day's market close.

    Nvidia's management said the goal of the stock split was to "make stock ownership more accessible to employees and investors."

    The stock cracked $1,000 in premarket trading on Thursday. It should fall to around one-tenth of its pre-split level when it begins trading on a split-adjusted basis on June 10.

    The semiconductor giant's market capitalization of about $2.5 trillion won't change as a direct result of the split. Ownership of the company is simply being divided into smaller pieces with no effect on the value of the whole entity.

    However, the stock could move for other reasons. Slashing the price of a single share will make it more accessible to smaller shareholders, potentially increasing demand.

    It could also fuel speculation that Nvidia might be added to the price-weighted Dow Jones Industrial Average. If the AI behemoth joins Big Tech peers such as Apple, Amazon, and Microsoft, that would broaden its shareholder base to include all the passive investors in that index.

    Price cuts for pricey stocks

    The split follows a 550% rise in Nvidia's stock price from under $150 at the start of 2023 to about $1,000. Nvidia has emerged as one of the biggest winners from the AI boom, as companies like Tesla and Meta clamor for its graphics processors.

    Stock splits are not uncommon. Elon Musk's Tesla has executed two since 2020, reflecting the massive surge in the EV maker's share price.

    Chipotle approved a 50-for-1 stock split in April, saying it would make its shares "more accessible to employees as well as a broader range of investors."

    The fast-casual restaurant chain's stock trades at more than $3,100 a share, making it prohibitively expensive for many workers and retail traders (assuming they don't want to purchase fractional shares on a platform like Robinhood.)

    Regaining flexibility

    Even Warren Buffett, who has never split Berkshire Hathaway's Class A stock despite it now trading at over $625,000 a share, enacted a 50-for-1 split of the Class B stock in 2010.

    He did so because Berkshire was acquiring a railway company, and he wanted its shareholders to be able to easily exchange their shares for Berkshire shares in a tax-free swap.

    The split also paved the way for Berkshire to replace Burlington Northern in the S&P 500 by hugely increasing the liquidity of its shares. The B shares trade at about $414, a fraction of the A shares' price.

    Nvidia is already an S&P 500 member. But like Berkshire, it's probably hoping its stock split improves liquidity, makes its stock more accessible to employees and investors and a more flexible currency for acquisitions, and perhaps leads to inclusion in more indexes.

    Read the original article on Business Insider
  • RFK Jr. joins the meme-stock crowd — and plows $24,000 into GameStop in a show of support

    Robert F Kennedy Jr
    Robert F. Kennedy Jr.

    • The meme-stock "apes"  have attracted a new member: Robert F. Kennedy Jr.
    • The presidential candidate said he'd bought $24,000 of GameStop stock in a show of support.
    • Kennedy endorsed retail investors' calls for reforming Wall Street to level the playing field.

    Robert F. Kennedy Jr. has joined the meme-stock movement — and shown he's serious by investing in GameStop.

    The political scion and presidential candidate threw his lot in with the "apes" in a X post this week and cheered on the retail investors seeking to level the playing field by reining in Wall Street.

    Kennedy also endorsed their calls for market transparency, stricter regulation and harsher penalties for bad behavior.

    "My administration will support the Ape retail rebellion and enact aggressive Wall Street reforms," he said.

    https://platform.twitter.com/widgets.js

    The veteran environmental attorney said on X that he "just invested $24,000 in GameStop" using fees he earned suing Monsanto over its controversial Roundup herbicide.

    "I love the idea of making Monsanto support $GME and the Apes," Kennedy wrote. "We need a free and fair market. Let's punish predatory short selling to the moon. By the way, I ride with you and I'm not leaving."

    The post included a mocked-up movie poster from the "Planet of the Apes" franchise, featuring a picture of the politician and the tagline, "Apes Together Strong."

    Dynasties and dollars

    Kennedy is the son of a late senator, Robert F. Kennedy, and the nephew of former president John F. Kennedy. He's running as an independent on a platform of fighting for the little guy and taking on the greed of corporate America and the corruption in Washington DC.

    GameStop is known as the ultimate meme stock after it skyrocketed by as much as 2,300% in January 2021. Retail investors piled in to punish short sellers, thumb their noses at Wall Street, crack jokes on social media, and make a quick buck.

    The buying frenzy reignited earlier this month when one of the biggest champions of the video game retailer's stock, Keith "Roaring Kitty" Gill, resumed posting on X after a long hiatus.

    GameStop shares soared almost sixfold in a matter of days, but have given up most of those gains since then.

    Kennedy isn't the only presidential candidate courting the alt-finance crowd. Donald Trump has been hyping cryptocurrencies and non-fungible tokens (NFTs), and his campaign began accepting crypto donations this week.

    Read the original article on Business Insider
  • I used a fake name on my résumé to land a job. It might have helped, but it felt like I lost a core part of myself.

    Mukhtar Kadiri
    Kadiri said he now embraces his name and identity.

    • Growing up, Mukhtar Kadiri felt like an outsider because of his Arabic name. 
    • After struggling to land job interviews out of college, he added "Mark" to his résumé and got hired.
    • Kadiri found himself job hunting again years later and refused to reject his real name and identity.

    This as-told-to essay is based on a transcribed conversation with Mukhtar Kadiri, 39, from the greater Toronto area, about how he decided to go by a different name in the workplace. The following has been edited for length and clarity.

    My dad named me Mukhtar after his friend from high school. It means "chosen one" in Arabic.

    I've come to really like my name — it feels special and mysterious — but it took me a while to get there.

    In 2007, I added an English-sounding name to my résumé in the hopes that it could help me land a job. I don't know if that's the reason I landed a role in the end, but I felt I wanted to fit in and not be looked at as an "other."

    I thought using an English-sounding name as an alias would remove barriers between myself and an employer

    I was born in Edo State, Nigeria. Although my family is Muslim, I was mostly surrounded by Christian people where I was growing up.

    Having an Arabic name signaled to people that I was Muslim. I remember feeling different and being teased by other kids because of my religion.

    I moved to the US for college in 2002 and studied petroleum engineering at Texas Tech University.

    I continued to feel like a minority at college. In Nigeria, there are certain ways of classifying people, such as by tribe and religion, but in the US, I found people are stereotyped based on their race. People thought I'd fit into the African-American box because of the way I looked, but I didn't feel like I fit into any category.

    Toward the end of my college experience, I started preparing to get a job in petroleum engineering. I attended all the career workshops, worked on my résumé, applied for jobs, and went to interviews.

    I noticed some of my American classmates were getting lots of offers, but I was struggling to land an opportunity. I was an international student, and my employer would have to sponsor my H-1B visa. That also made it harder for me to be hired than my American peers.

    I struggled to get interviews after graduating from college

    I graduated in 2007 without a job, which made me very anxious. During college, I could do some interviews on campus, as companies arranged to interview us through the department, but I noticed I wasn't landing as many interviews after graduating.

    Studies have shown that résumés with English-sounding names get more job callbacks. Some of my Nigerian friends had English names, and it seemed that they could navigate spaces more easily. For example, I felt they might be perceived as less strange and more familiar at social events and have conversations that flowed more easily than mine.

    I added the name Mark next to my first name on my résumé, putting it in quotation marks. The name had some of the same letters as Mukhtar — I thought it would create less of a barrier between me and an interviewer if they could call me by an alias that was easier to pronounce.

    Shortly after doing that, I landed an interview with an oil and gas service company. I don't remember exactly how long it took or how many jobs I applied to with the new résumé, but it felt like the opportunity came almost immediately.

    The interviewer called me Mark, and eventually, the company offered me a petroleum engineering job.

    It's possible that I would have gotten called for the interview even if I didn't use Mark, but I think the timing was interesting.

    I'd cringe when people called me Mark at work

    I started the job in December 2007. My department was developing software for oil and gas companies to use.

    I didn't legally change my name, so the name Mukhtar was still in my work email address, but my boss referred to me as Mark. I introduced myself as Mark, and most of my colleagues initially referred to me using that name.

    There was always a part of me that didn't quite like being called Mark. I'd cringe when people used it. I felt like I was denying my roots or being a bit fake.

    No one forced me to change my name, but I felt compelled to do it to avoid being a failure. I really wanted a job.

    Over time, I began to transition back to using Mukhtar. A Nigerian colleague who was like a mentor to me started using my real name.

    After eight months on the job, I was relocated to Oman, where I stayed for around five years before moving to the UAE. It was an opportunity for me to start afresh.

    Since Arabic is widely spoken in the Middle East, I would introduce myself to new people as Mukhtar, not Mark. Most people recognized my name, and some would tell me it was beautiful. This was a huge contrast to people butchering my name in the US and Nigeria. I felt like I belonged and wasn't strange. I didn't have to apologize for who I was.

    When I was looking for a new job in a new country, I refused to go by an alias again

    In Oman, I applied for Canadian permanent residency through a skilled worker program and was granted it in 2015. My visa was tied to my employment in the Middle East; there was always a sense of uncertainty, so I wanted to get PR status in Canada. My family and I relocated to Canada in 2017 because of visa issues in the UAE.

    I didn't really know anyone or have a network in Canada, so I struggled to find a job. Employers in Canada place a lot of emphasis on having local Canadian experience, making it harder for me to land a role.

    One of my friends, who had downplayed his native African name to emphasize his English and easy-sounding name, suggested I change my name to help me get a job. A lot of Christian Nigerians will have native and Christian names. So, when they move abroad, they might emphasize their Christian names. It may not necessarily mean changing their name but simply using their middle name as their first name.

    His suggestion brought back all those feelings of inauthenticity and guilt I faced when I went by Mark — so I refused.

    I didn't want to relive the same experience again. I wouldn't erase a core part of me just to get a job.

    I kept applying to jobs and networking, and a few months later, I landed two job offers for project manager roles. I started working for a tech company in the healthcare sector and stayed in that role for nearly four years.

    I feel like I'm being authentic now that I use my real name at work. I'm proud of the journey I've taken to arrive at this place. I've learned to like my "otherness." Nowadays, when I speak to people, I'll volunteer the meaning of my name without them even asking.

    It took me a while to get to a place where I love who I am and where I'm from, but I now embrace my identity.

    Read the original article on Business Insider
  • Sweeping changes to America’s aging power grid are on their way to help bypass NIMBY roadblocks and state infighting

    large transmission power lines
    • It can take a decade to build transmission lines, and construction fell to an all-time low in 2022.
    • The delays make the US's aging power grid more vulnerable to extreme weather and blackouts.
    • New federal rules could help break logjams over funding and environmental permits.

    America's power grid is old and stressed.

    Blackouts are on the rise as the climate crisis fuels more-powerful storms and as electricity demand booms from electric vehicles, data centers, and manufacturing.

    The main problem: It takes way too long to build towering high-voltage power lines that carry electricity across state lines and to hook up new power to the grid. Long transmission lines can take more than a decade to build, and federal regulators have said their construction declined to an all-time low in 2022. Some 2.6 terawatts of new power — more than twice the size of the entire US grid — are backed up in yearslong connection queues in part because of a lack of capacity. The vast majority of that power comes from renewable-energy projects.

    The delays threaten the transition to cleaner energy and make residents more vulnerable to extreme weather. States also could miss out on new business opportunities if they don't solve the power crunch.

    To help break the logjams, the federal government in the last month has made sweeping changes to how grid upgrades are planned, paid for, and permitted. Energy regulators, developers, and lawyers say that while the changes won't immediately solve every bottleneck, they should make the US more prepared for skyrocketing energy demand and extreme weather.

    "The grid as it exists now is essentially tapped out. There's no headroom left on the system," said Brett White, a vice president of regulatory affairs at Pine Gate Renewables, an energy developer with projects in 30 states. "But if I zoom out and take a long view, I'm optimistic about the future reliability of the grid."

    'Nobody wants to see it, and nobody wants to pay for it'

    Federal data indicates that while 2,000 miles of transmission lines were built on average each year from 2012 to 2016, that figure dropped to 700 miles from 2017 to 2021. Last year, just 251 miles were completed.

    A group of researchers led by Princeton University found in 2022 that to meet its goals for cleaner electricity, the US would need to more than double the previous decade's pace of transmission expansion. That's because many of the places with the most wind and solar potential are in parts of the country without the infrastructure to carry the electricity to homes and businesses.

    But upgrading the power grid gets bogged down by several issues.

    Many regional authorities that oversee the grid aren't doing much long-term planning to make sure there's enough transmission capacity. They tend to be reactionary, acting only when, for example, a solar developer wants to connect to the grid or a reliability issue pops up. Securing permits for transmission projects involves a patchwork of state and federal agencies, and locals often oppose energy infrastructure in their backyards. States with clashing priorities also fight over who pays for the costly power lines.

    "This is a gross oversimplification, but to summarize the problem succinctly: Nobody wants to see it, and nobody wants to pay for it," said Larry Gasteiger, the executive director of Wires, a trade group that advocates for transmission development.

    A new rule issued by the Federal Energy Regulatory Commission this month is aimed at tackling some of the problems.

    The commission directed regional grid operators, states, and utilities to develop 20-year transmission plans to support rapidly growing electricity demand and provide a fair way to pay for it. The rule also makes it harder for states to opt out. The goal is to make the grid more reliable and keep costs down for customers in the long run.

    Allison Clements, a Democrat on the commission, noted that the agency recently approved nearly $1 billion in "last-minute" transmission spending to avoid reliability issues when a single coal plant in Maryland closes in 2025. She said the regional grid operator — an entity known as PJM Interconnection that spans 13 states from Pennsylvania to West Virginia — could have found a more cost-effective solution if it had planned for that retirement earlier.

    Jeffrey Shields, a spokesman for PJM, said in an email that the organization is studying the impact of the FERC rule. Before it was issued, PJM was working on "long-term scenario planning" and last year authorized a record $6.8 billion in transmission projects.

    Regarding the coal plant in Maryland, Shields pointed to a letter that PJM's CEO Manu Asthana's letter to Sierra Club in December. Asthana said it wasn't "reasonable to expect PJM to have anticipated the imminent" closure because the owner of the coal plant, Talen Energy, had said it would stay online with oil as a fuel source. It wasn't until April 2023 that PJM was notified about the closure.

    The region illustrates why states can clash over who pays. Maryland and New Jersey are aiming for 100% renewable energy by 2035, but Pennsylvania and West Virginia are doubling down on gas and coal.

    States and utilities reliant on fossil fuels don't want to pay for transmission projects that unlock cleaner power to compete with, and they worry their residents will unfairly get stuck with a multibillion-dollar tab. Mark Christie, a Republican commissioner, endorsed that view, arguing that the agency's rules "fails to protect consumers" and would transfer wealth to "for-profit special interests" like wind and solar developers.

    Proponents of the commission's rule said that view was short-sighted. A well-planned grid has benefits beyond ushering in more renewable energy. Numerous power-hungry data centers and factories are coming online, and the climate crisis is fueling more frequent and destructive storms. If the US doesn't invest in regional transmission lines, customers will pay the price in the form of congestion and more life-threatening outages.

    "Grids are being pushed to the brink," Neil Chatterjee, a former chairman of the FERC, said. "Climate change doesn't care about state politics and market design."

    Chatterjee added that it could take years for the rule to have an effect and that the commission would likely face legal challenges. But he expects it to be upheld because it falls under FERC's traditional authority to keep the grid reliable in an affordable way.

    No silver bullet

    While that process plays out, the federal government is also trying to more quickly grant environmental permits for transmission lines.

    The Department of Energy this month said it would take the lead on applications and aim to issue decisions within two years — about twice as fast as its current average. By DOE being the main point of contact, project developers won't have to navigate different processes with eight different federal agencies in some cases. The department also identified 10 regions of the country where some 3,500 miles of transmission lines should be prioritized because customers are facing higher utility bills and power disruptions from extreme weather.

    If that list is finalized, FERC would also be able to step in and approve permits for projects stalled or denied at the state level in those priority regions.

    Christine Powell, a deputy managing attorney of Earthjustice's Clean Energy Program, said that collectively these actions would help expand transmission on a "pretty large scale."

    But federal regulators still have few tools to resolve local environmental and property-rights disputes in vast swaths of the country — another major obstacle to the switch to cleaner energy.

    In a 2023 survey by the University of Chicago, 56% of Americans said they supported building transmission lines to carry renewable power where it's needed, but that dropped to 48% when they were told the project would be built in their neighborhood.

    Congress and federal regulators also haven't addressed transmission projects designed to connect the country's fragmented regional grids — such as carrying Wyoming's wind power into California, where rolling blackouts are on the rise.

    Congress is working on broader reforms, but Chuck Schumer, the Senate majority leader, recently suggested lawmakers wouldn't reach a deal anytime soon.

    "The path forward is going to be one of incremental improvements to processes rather than one silver-bullet fix," Gasteiger said. "There are further problems that need to be dealt with."

    Read the original article on Business Insider
  • 5 millennials who are on their way to financial independence share why they have no intention of retiring early

    Shelly October, Gabriela Ariza, Oz Chen
    Shelly October (left), Gabriela Ariza (middle), and Oz Chen (right) are all set to achieve financial independence in the next few years but don't want to retire early.

    • Millennials in the FIRE movement are emphasizing financial independence over traditional early retirement.
    • Many say they want to retire from their 9-to-5 jobs but continue working in lower-stress positions.
    • 5 millennials on track to reach financial independence share why they're not set on retiring early.

    Shelly October, 41, thinks she'll have the financial means to retire early by her mid-50s. But she has little intention of doing so.

    October, a speech-language pathologist for New York City Public Schools, started her journey toward financial independence a few years ago. She said she's always practiced the movement's central tenets — working and saving toward a point where she will have enough to retire and live comfortably.

    She started alongside her three older sisters and still has a few years to go as she works toward her pension. She moved to Yonkers, a city north of New York City where the cost of living is much lower, and she's kept her daily spending low. She found a townhouse through the Neighborhood Assistance Corporation of America, which had no down payment or closing costs and a 1.625% mortgage rate.

    Shelly October
    Shelly October hopes to devote her time to spreading awareness about dyslexia.

    By 55, she anticipates having enough between her pension and retirement accounts to retire. But fully leaving the world of work is not in the cards, she said. She's already working toward monetizing her passions with a tutoring small business. When she retires from her current role, she plans to turn her efforts toward raising awareness of dyslexia across the US and empowering other Black women to achieve their financial goals.

    "When I first started listening to podcasts, I got really excited about potentially retiring early. I was like, I could potentially build up my business, and I started really calculating numbers trying to figure that out," October said. "Then, I realized I can actually have a really good lifestyle while I'm working without feeling like I'm kind of killing myself."

    October is one of many millennials who are working toward achieving financial independence, one of the main goals of the FIRE — financial independence, retire early — community. The traditional FIRE movement, which dates back to the 1990s, stressed working hard and building a large nest egg through various income streams to stop working years, or even decades, before 64.

    Some millennials who successfully achieved financial independence told BI that a traditional retirement is overrated. They're instead embracing working in lower-stress positions, creating podcasts, caring for young kids, and following their passions.

    "The thing I have noticed shift most is the emphasis on FI and less on RE," Scott Rieckens, the executive producer of the film "Playing With FIRE," previously told BI. "I think it's awesome to see, as it signals that financial independence is the key motive, which it is, and that work and purpose are actually really important. Retiring early to nothing is a bad idea."

    This philosophy has motivated five millennials who told BI that getting to "FI," not "RE," is the more important part of the equation. All said their hard work to reach financial independence will not suddenly stop, nor will a retirement on a beach or a cabin in the woods bring them joy. Instead, they hope to give back to their communities while striving to build their careers further.

    Striving for financial independence

    Millennials who haven't quite achieved FI yet are experimenting with a more balanced approach and aren't setting strict timeline goals.

    Oz Chen, a designer for a financial technology company living in Los Angeles, tested out living as a digital nomad for two years after getting laid off from a job in his mid-20s. However, the 35-year-old realized he wanted more consistency and a stronger social network, leading him to shift his goals from retiring early to accomplishing career milestones, even with $1.5 million in investments.

    Oz Chen
    Oz Chen said he's hoping to soon pursue some life milestones beyond finances.

    He's enjoyed being in a work-optional position, allowing him to set healthier boundaries, though he still hasn't reached many of his life goals. He continues to put aside money for experiences over material things — other than coffee — but he intends to keep working on bettering himself and those around him.

    "The whole time I've been thinking in terms of my financial independence as what I call single-player mode. I'm not married yet and don't have kids, so I was thinking, well, I might need more money for that," Chen said.

    Gabriela Ariza, 31, also has plenty of life goals she wants to hit, and she already knows she's not going to retire anytime soon. She sees financial independence as an extension of her drive to fulfill passion projects. The Illinois resident, who is moving from Chicago to the smaller city of Rockford, said she's on track to reach financial independence before 40 but has no desire to stop working in cybersecurity and real estate.

    Gabriela Ariza
    Gabriela Ariza has no plans to retire early, even though she anticipates she can by 40.

    She plans to build new affordable homes using her years of experience in real estate investing, as well as expand technology and education in Haiti as part of her nonprofit The HaITian Common Space. Her husband hopes to leave his 9-to-5 job to be a full-time business owner.

    "I've seen a lot of people sacrifice their health, and that's something that I never, ever want to do if I'm trying to achieve financial independence," Ariza said.

    Even with no desire to stop working entirely, the prospect of pursuing lower-stress work is itself a benefit — but takes effort to unlearn the constant drive for financial success.

    David and Jill Pawley, 36 and 34, are set to retire in seven years, though both care more about following their passions. The couple, with a net worth of $820,000, still saves 55-65% of their annual income as municipal government employees in Michigan. They said their area's low cost of living and their frugal upbringings have given them financial stability, even with the costs of raising two kids.

    David and Jill Pawley
    David and Jilly Pawley can likely retire in a few years, though they anticipate choosing not to.

    "When I go back 12 months, our savings rate is 64%, and since we don't want to retire, that seems too high," David said. "We are trying to back that number down and finding a way to spend the difference because our goal is not to die with $10 million."

    Because both of them feel they'll keep working until they get little satisfaction from work, they've questioned whether their high savings are worth it. They implemented a rule in which they can't base their choices at, for example, a restaurant, off of price. It's allowed them to follow what they actually want, which has changed their parenting styles.

    "Last month, I told Jill she had to spend $300 by the end of the month, and I swear she was sweating," David added.

    Are you part of the FIRE movement or living by some of its principles? Reach out this reporter at nsheidlower@businessinsider.com.

    Read the original article on Business Insider
  • Pet insurance is booming. It’s also mostly worthless.

    Photo illustration of a sick pug with money.
    Pet insurance isn't a total grift. But for many people, insuring their furry friends ends up being a money suck.

    Gina Papini honestly isn't sure whether she got taken for a ride on pet insurance, but it's pretty clear she didn't get much bang for her buck.

    Papini and her husband decided to add coverage for their two dogs and their cat when it was offered in 2021 as a bundle with their home-insurance plan. It seemed like a simple way to protect their pets' health. But the whole endeavor wound up being a headache. The pets' combined premiums cost hundreds of dollars a month, she says, and the coverage proved far less comprehensive than they anticipated. The couple never really needed to use the insurance for their two younger animals, and for their older dog, Kato, the process was a mess. Whenever Kato wound up at the vet, usually with stomach issues, they'd pay the bill and then submit it to the insurance company, which would then balk at reimbursing them.

    "We thought it would save us money in the long run if we got it, but then they would refute claims and say, 'Well, this could have been a preexisting condition,' and preexisting conditions aren't covered," Papini said. "You need extra vet paperwork to back up that it wasn't. And so then you just get to a point where you're jumping through so many hoops."

    Papini and her husband got tired of dealing with all the rigamarole and axed their insurance plan after a year. Despite paying thousands of dollars in premiums, they never saw a single reimbursement.

    People love their pets, and they're willing to do a lot for them, financially and otherwise. The American Pet Products Association has estimated that Americans spent $147 billion on their animals in 2023, including $38 billion on their healthcare. This level of attachment has helped turn the pet-insurance industry into a lucrative and rapidly expanding market. The North American Pet Health Insurance Association found that pet owners in the US paid $3.9 billion in premiums in 2023, a 22% increase from the year before. Some 6.25 million pets in the US were insured as of the end of 2023, per NAPHIA. That's still a small fraction of all the pets in the country, given that there are over 80 million pet dogs and 60 million pet cats, according to the American Veterinary Medical Association. But it's growing.

    As pet insurance becomes more prevalent, so too do the questions about it. While some people swear by it, others think it's a scam. One thing is for sure: As the industry grows, pet insurance is becoming as confusing and messy as health insurance is for humans. It's barely regulated, and deciphering what it does and doesn't encompass can be super confusing. Just like regular health insurance, coverage for pets often winds up being riddled with loopholes and fine print that allows insurers to deny claims, declining to pay for the very care that motivated consumers to buy the policy in the first place. Because consumers pay up front, they often don't realize they won't be reimbursed until it's too late. Pet insurance gets pricier over time, meaning many people can no longer afford to keep their coverage just when they might start to need it.

    In short, pet insurance isn't a grift — some people do end up using their benefits. But for many people, insuring their furry friends ends up being a money suck.


    Pet insurance isn't technically even health insurance; it falls in the property-and-casualty category. It's generally regulated pretty lightly by states. There are no broad federal regulations around it, and only a handful of states have laws and standards around it specifically. How it usually works is people pay a monthly premium, and after they've paid a vet bill, they submit it to the insurer to try to get their money back. Just as with human health insurance, there are also deductibles and copays and annual limits on how much the policy will pay out.

    The big problem with pet insurance is it's just an expensive product

    There are three categories of pet insurance: accident only; accident and illness; and accident, illness, and wellness. Adding more coverage makes the policy more expensive. Accident and accident-illness policies cover costs only if something goes awry — Rover gets into a rough fight at the dog park or develops arthritis. Fancier, more-comprehensive policies also cover wellness visits and preventive care, like dental care and vaccines. No matter the policy you choose, insurance can get expensive fast. Premiums generally go up each year as a pet gets older. And as with many insurance products, pet-insurance premiums across the board are on the rise because of inflation and the increasing cost of care.

    "The big problem with pet insurance is it's just an expensive product," said Kevin Brasler, the executive editor of Consumers' Checkbook, a consumer watchdog group. "If you're going to be one of these plans, buy it when your pet's young, but just know your costs are likely going to skyrocket as time goes on."

    Even if a pet owner can find an affordable policy, they may have trouble deciphering what's covered. Pet insurance almost never covers preexisting conditions, and what qualifies as preexisting can be quite broad and hard to parse. (It's wild that we used to do this for people, by the way.) If you get a policy for your puppy before it has a chance to develop any problems, it might be a good deal. But if you have a 10-year-old dog with diabetes, that's a different story. I got some quotes from the website Pawlicy Advisor for my fictional dog, a mixed breed named Dan. When I changed the inputs to make Dan a six-month-old in optimal health, the platform recommended a policy starting at $28 a month. When Dan was 10 and had some issues, the first policy it suggested was $125, and some plans were about $350.

    Michael San Filippo, a spokesperson for the American Veterinary Medical Association, said in an email that the group endorsed the "concept" of pet health insurance, which can help keep vet costs down and save animals' lives, but he acknowledged that when the rubber hits the road, it can get hard to figure out.

    "It's important that pet owners understand the scope of what their pet insurance does and does not cover, so they're not caught off guard by unexpected payments," he said.

    Even getting good advice on which pet-insurance policy is right for you can be a challenge. There are endless listicles recommending various policies, as well as websites dedicated to comparing insurers. The sheer volume of information can be hard to parse. It's also difficult to differentiate what is genuine advice and what's paid for. Many comparison tools get commissions for sales made through their platforms, so what they're recommending may not actually be the best option — it's just the one they'll make money off of. (This is true for all sorts of platforms that compare and recommend financial products, from credit cards to travel insurance.)

    This new structure has been a detriment to the industry with profit as the primary motive versus what is in the best interest of the consumer

    The spread of these lists also points to another problem with the industry: the corporatization of pet insurance. Doug Kenney, a retired veterinarian who writes about the pet-insurance industry, said in an email that a decade ago, most pet-insurance companies were considered small businesses and were led by a founder/CEO with a vision for the company. Over time, these companies took on larger corporate structures, and some founders were pushed out by their boards. Nowadays, there are many large pet-insurance companies, some of which specialize only in pets, others of which are larger insurers that offer pet insurance, and many of which are publicly traded, meaning they ultimately answer to shareholders.

    "This new structure has been a detriment to the industry with profit as the primary motive versus what is in the best interest of the consumer," Kenney said. "I used to say that pet insurance was a win, win, win proposition with the insurance company, veterinarians, and the policyholders and their pets all benefiting. I don't think that's the case anymore."


    Reporting this story, I fully expected to come down on one side or the other on whether pet insurance is good or bad. But I really didn't come up with an answer. I heard about a wide array of experiences with pet insurance, from awesome to mediocre to awful. One woman saved $4,000 on vet bills thanks to her insurance after her cat ate a pom-pom toy and the doctor had to fish it out. One man looked into getting coverage for his two cats after learning that both had extra teeth, but the minute they were documented, those overcrowded mouths became a preexisting condition. Another woman adopted a dog from Mexico with a "pretty wonky leg" that's "very noticeable." At her first vet appointment with the animal, the doctor told her to apply for pet insurance. She said she wouldn't note the leg on the dog's chart so the application would be approved — everyone agreeing to do a light amount of insurance fraud.

    It's not likely to save you money down the road, and if it does, you're an outlier.

    In a purely financial or economic sense, pet insurance seems pretty worthless for many consumers. There are too many exceptions, too many hoops to jump through, and little regulatory recourse if you think you got taken for a ride. Unless something goes really awry, people pay more into their policies than they get out of them. Brasler was pretty blunt in his assessment of the overall product.

    "You really need to think carefully about 'What kind of pet owner am I?' No judgments," he said. "This is a really expensive product. It's not likely to save you money down the road, and if it does, you're an outlier."

    Ultimately, a lot of the value of this sort of insurance is emotional. It's possible to do some back-of-the-envelope calculations to figure out the lifetime cost of a policy, but the personal side of the equation is considering how much you're willing to spend on your furry friend. Maybe you feel like spending $10,000 over the course of your pet's life on insurance is worth it for the peace of mind. Or maybe you forgo insurance, figuring that if your companion has a serious health problem, you'll make the decision then to spend the money on them — or not. (Again, no judgments!)

    As for Papini, she's not getting back on the pet-insurance train. It was just too hard to deal with, and her husband is still cranky about the ordeal. She knows they're fortunate to be able to pay out of pocket for their animals' needs, which remain expensive. Kato now has cancer, and the treatments cost thousands of dollars. Would the insurance be worth it now? It's hard to know.

    "Who's to say they wouldn't have been like, 'Well, he had diarrhea in 2017, so therefore it's a preexisting condition,'" she said. "Then we would've spent thousands of dollars for the insurance, never been able to use it, and still had to pay out of pocket on top of it."


    Emily Stewart is a senior correspondent at Business Insider, writing about business and the economy.

    Read the original article on Business Insider
  • TikTok is about to become even bigger and more powerful

    TikTok is for millennials now
    More millennials are on TikTok. If the app survives the US ban, its cultural significance will only grow.

    Keara Sullivan is known for her razor-sharp TikTok commentary on the foibles of her hyperonline generation. Since late 2020, the New York comedian has amassed over 400,000 followers — most of them fellow Gen Zers. Lately, though, the 24-year-old has noticed a lot of commenters who miss the point of her jokes.

    In December, she posted a video marveling at the strangeness of Mount Rushmore. "I was like, 'I literally just remembered we have this, and it's so weird,'" Sullivan told me. "Why did we carve these heads into a mountain? My point was if human society collapsed, and humans refound this in 1,000 years, they would probably think they were gods rather than just normal men." The video was quickly flooded with comments by older men who seemed to willfully ignore her point. "Check up your history. these men weren't normal," one wrote. "They founded the county your living in tfym," another said. (She pointed out that, actually, only two of them helped found the US.)

    Sullivan's experience isn't an outlier: Older people, and their judgments, are flooding TikTok. Earlier this year, Pew Research Center released a pair of surveys examining how different demographics used TikTok and other social-media sites. In their analysis, the writer Ryan Broderick and the researcher Adam Bumas found something odd: Contrary to TikTok's reputation as a "Gen Z app," people in their 30s and 40s comprised nearly 40% of surveyed users. What's more, this cohort of largely millennials was growing faster than the platform's 18-to-34 cohort.

    Broderick argued that the aging of the platform marked the beginning of TikTok's decline. Like Instagram and Facebook before it, he suggested the once hot, new app was on the verge of descending into a boring, spammy, and oftentimes depressing place to be.

    But just because TikTok's user base is becoming older doesn't mean that it's "over" for the app. Instead, experts and users I spoke with suggested that the platform may simply be moving into a new, more mainstream phase of existence. TikTok may be less like Facebook and more like YouTube, which evolved from a youth-centric novelty into the most widely used app among Americans of all ages.

    Even if the millennial takeover doesn't herald the end of TikTok, it does mean we need to change how we think about it. As long as it can survive the US ban that the Senate recently voted into law, TikTok seems bound to mature from an app for young people into a place for everyone — and that means its cultural significance will only grow.


    Social-media platforms don't just die because their users get older. In his post, Broderick pointed to "enshittification," a term popularized by the technology writer Cory Doctorow to describe the process whereby platforms initially attract people by making their tools as useful as possible, only to slowly degrade the user experience as the companies face increasing pressure to turn a profit for shareholders. Generally, this is why search sucks, why Amazon is filled with low-quality products, and why everyone complains about Microsoft Teams.

    On the one hand, this process is fairly age-agnostic; it's simply a set of business tactics companies use to squeeze more revenue out of their existing audiences. "I could imagine that happening to LinkedIn, for example," Kevin Munger, an assistant professor of political science at Penn State who studies how different generations use social platforms, said. "I don't think that has much to do with it being cool."

    The way that you know Facebook is done, it's not that you've only got old people there, and old people aren't cool. It's that everyone who had the wherewithal to leave, left.

    On the other, Doctorow said, the effects of enshittification can look very different for different generations of users: Just as young people are often the first to adopt a new technology, when a platform becomes junky, they're usually the first to flee.

    It's a question of switching costs: "People migrate when the situation that they're in doesn't work for them," Doctorow told me. For a young person without a lot of commitments tying them down, it's relatively easy to ditch a platform and link up with their friends somewhere else. The older someone is, and the more entangled their lives become with a platform — for example, they might use it to interface with customers, keep in touch with old college friends, or organize carpools for Little League — the more costly it becomes to leave.

    "The way that you know Facebook is done, it's not that you've only got old people there, and old people aren't cool," Doctorow said. "It's that everyone who had the wherewithal to leave, left."

    There are some signs that TikTok is enshittifying. In a November investigation, Business Insider reporters watched 1,000 TikToks and found that roughly one out of every three of them was an ad. And TikTok Shop, a QVC-style e-commerce arm and creator affiliate program that launched in September, has been particularly polarizing.

    "I have friends that say that TikTok Shop has ruined the app," Casey Lewis, a trends researcher, said. "It's people trying to convince their followers that they should buy this great sweater for $2 — that kind of thing."

    So far, Lewis hasn't gotten the sense that this profusion of Shop-related content is necessarily driving young people away. In 2023, the platform still counted 62% of Americans ages 18 to 29, and 63% of those aged 13 to 17, as users — and those stats have remained relatively stable over time.

    Gen Zers told me they usually hear of their peers cutting down on TikTok for different reasons: "Some of it is they realize how much time they're spending on the app," said Jonathan Gelfond, a 19-year-old media-studies and psychological-sciences student at UC Santa Barbara.

    Taylor Lorenz, a technology columnist for The Washington Post and the author of "Extremely Online," told me she thought the uptick in millennial users may be good news for the platform. "Millennials have a lot of money compared to teenagers," she said. "It can be good — especially as TikTok moves to TikTok Shop — if they're able to capitalize on this shift and sell products more effectively to older users."

    Lorenz thinks YouTube is a more accurate comparison than Facebook. "YouTube is much more of an entertainment app in the way TikTok is," she said. And lest we forget, in the years following its 2005 launch, the video platform was also "associated with young people doing things, like cat videos," she added. Now, at nearly two decades old, YouTube is used by people of all ages, for all sorts of reasons.

    "I don't think anybody thinks, 'Oh, YouTube, it's so stodgy and lame,' like the way they do Facebook," she said. Munger pointed out that larger audiences could result in more bland content, as creators try to appeal to more people. Even still, YouTube is by far the most popular app among young people.


    With an aging user base, generational trends get muddled. Just because something is going viral on TikTok doesn't necessarily mean Gen Z is behind it.

    Most trends, like baggy jeans, do start with Gen Z. Lewis, who uses the app primarily to study youth trends, noticed Gen Zers posting on TikTok about going to thrift stores to buy huge, cheap jeans. "Then millennials realized they couldn't wear skinny jeans anymore, so they're buying Citizens of Humanity $200 wide-leg jeans," she said. "It definitely starts with the Gen Zers. And then the millennials get to it, and then they run with it."

    This desire to participate in youth culture is part of what makes the millennial generation — and this particular moment in TikTok's evolution — unique.

    Other trends happen in reverse. Lewis pointed to the recent Stanley-cup craze, which saw new tumbler designs sell out in minutes after the cups went viral on TikTok. Though the trend became synonymous with Gen Z and Gen Alpha kids trying to impress their peers at school, it was largely the product of savvy marketing by The Buy Guide, a group of three millennial shopping influencers who began singing the product's praises in 2017 before partnering with Stanley in 2020 to help promote it to new audiences.

    "In-the-know millennial moms caught on," Lewis said. "Stanley is one of the rare cases where it trickled down from millennials to Gen Zers — and then, of course, Gen Alpha, who have millennial parents, jumped on it as well."

    Though the Pew data suggested that users ages 35 to 49 were slightly more likely to upload videos than their 18- to 34-year-old peers, it's difficult to say what role older users are playing in sparking trends. Part of that comes down to the nature of TikTok itself. Munger pointed out that while someone could find that they're being served a lot of content made by older creators, other users could find the opposite to be true. Lewis, for her part, hasn't noticed a change. "My FYP is still entirely Gen Zers doing funny things, talking about trends, talking about things they're buying," Lewis said, referring to her For You page.

    Some people, though, have noticed a clear uptick in Y2K and 2000s nostalgia on the app, which harks back to a time when millennials were children or teenagers. In a piece for Wired, Jason Parham pointed to a recent glut of "Mean Girls" and "The Sopranos" videos as evidence of the dawning reality, per one of his coworkers, that "the olds are in charge now."

    Leslie Horn Petersen, a millennial mother of two and my coworker, admitted these trips down memory lane were part of why she loves using TikTok. Recently, she's been following a creator who posts images created using Kid Pix, a primitive drawing game that launched in the late 1980s as a child-friendly alternative to Microsoft Paint. "I remember having it in the computer labs at school," she said.

    It really comes down to the quality of the algorithm.

    The revival of fashion and digital culture from the turn of the millennium has been primarily driven by Gen Z, experts told me, but the growing millennial audience can help take those trends mainstream. As Munger sees it, this desire to participate in youth culture is part of what makes the millennial generation — and this particular moment in TikTok's evolution — unique. And we can probably chalk it up to the fact that many millennials, at least economically speaking, are still trapped in a kind of perpetual young adulthood.

    "There's a connection between the well-documented millennial tendency to not be able to progress through the life cycle for various economic, mostly material, reasons," he said. "That has made them more interested in youth culture for a longer period of time than might have been the case for previous generations." The same could be said of Gen Z, which would explain the generations' shared fascination with a time before smartphones and round-the-clock news. "It just comes back to, we all do yearn for simpler days," Lewis said.


    The Gen Z users I spoke with didn't seem particularly concerned about an influx of olds. Gelfond, the UC Santa Barbara student, welcomes it. He uses TikTok to keep up with politics and current affairs and appreciates the wider variety of content that has become available as more politicians, subject-matter experts, and other verified sources sign up. "Since the development of it generating a larger millennial user base, I've enjoyed it more," he said. "You can still view dance videos and social-media influencers and things like that," he added, "but you now also have the option of viewing more mature content."

    Sullivan, the comedian, sees the increased intergenerational chatter as mostly good-spirited. "I've seen this trend of older people making TikToks that are really funnily edited or dramatic and intense, and all the comments are Gen Zers being like, 'Pop off, queen!'" she said. "I've never seen any Gen Z be like, 'There's too many older people on this app.'"

    While TikTok is clearly moving into a new chapter, a lot is still up in the air. At the moment, pretty much everything rests on what happens with the US TikTok ban, which will ban the app outright if parent company ByteDance doesn't sell the stateside version of the app to a domestic owner within the next year.

    For an app that hinges in such a large part on the eerie mind-reading powers of its algorithm, Lewis stressed, even the less drastic of these two outcomes could dramatically change users' experience of the app. "It really comes down to the quality of the algorithm," she said. "If the user experience never wavers, then I think they're fine." But if changes to the company result in a worse algorithm, she said, "I don't know."


    Emilie Friedlander is a journalist and editor from Brooklyn, currently based in Philadelphia. She co-hosts The Culture Journalist, a podcast about culture in the age of platforms. 

    Read the original article on Business Insider