Emerald Fennell’s Wuthering Heights is finally out, so let’s get into it. To discuss, we invited film, culture, and literary critics , , and to jump into a Google doc. moderated the conversation, as our panelists dove into the questions plaguing this adaptation of Emily Brontë’s 1847 novel: Are Margot Robbie and Jacob Elordi believable as Cathy and Heathcliff? Did the movie need that opening scene? And what’s the deal with the eggs?

Readers beware: spoilers ahead.

Fennell opens Wuthering Heights with a man being hanged while visibly aroused, and the crowd descends into something orgiastic. Provocation or statement of intent?

Elissa Suh: I read that, at some point, this scene had the condemned [man] ejaculating mid-execution. That certainly would’ve been saying something. Without that bit, I thought the opening was missing something. Sex + Death is such a rich subtheme in the source text and in Gothic literature, but it’s all rather superficial in the film.

Radhika Jones: I thought about it mostly in terms of the crowd’s reaction, and the sense we get of collective barbarism. In the novel, Heathcliff tends to be the one referred to as “savage.” For me, the takeaway of the opening scene is that, actually, everybody implicated in this scene is savage. Whether that’s a fair indictment is another question, but it did level the playing field.

Mina Le: Interesting. Do you feel, then, that Heathcliff’s position in the story is compromised?

Radhika Jones: I did find it hard to parse how he’s supposed to function in the family onscreen. Cathy names him as a brother. He’s loyal to her. Yes, Earnshaw calls him a servant, but it all felt a little muddled, because he doesn’t really seem all that different from them.

Elissa Suh: I caught the barbarism of the crowd in the opening, but that idea didn’t seem to carry through to the rest of the film—at all!—to me.

Radhika Jones: Yes, I agree! Which was a pity.

Eliza Brooke: Agreed that the barbarism of the hanging scene should have bled into the rest of the film. I also wish there had been more Charli xcx needle drops throughout! While it feels like Emerald Fennell was being a bit of an edgelord with the opening sequence, I thought the use of Charli’s pop soundtrack elevated it. It really ratcheted up the feeling of grinding dread amid all that sex and death. Grinding dread: very Wuthering Heights!

Mina Le: Also, they don’t reference the hanging bit ever again … other than to toy with Catherine thinking that Heathcliff has come back.

Radhika Jones: The other striking thing about it to me was just how many people were there, and this is a novel with barely any named characters. But we cut from there to Cathy and Nelly running across the moors, and then the prevailing mood is emptiness. So it’s a contrast that doesn’t really go anywhere, unfortunately.

The cellophane gown, the unrestrained courtship rituals—did the anachronisms feel like they were in service of something, or more like aesthetic moodboarding?

Eliza Brooke: As far as the costuming and production design is concerned, I didn’t mind the anachronistic flourishes until the iridescent cellophane gown showed up after Cathy’s marriage to Edgar Linton (and a parade of similarly anachronistic fabrics followed). It was a jarring visual transition that seemed like it should indicate a shift in the narrative, but ultimately, I wasn’t sure what point Fennell was trying to make. Was she saying something about the Lintons and their wealth? Their innate ridiculousness? Their detachment from the wildness that surrounds their home? It felt a bit like flashy costuming for flashy costuming’s sake. And I say that as someone who loves a big look!

Mina Le: Yeah, the cellophane stood out quite a lot. But I wish there were fewer costumes overall. They were beautiful, but Margot went through what felt like 40 in an hour, and it was difficult for any of them to make an impact.

Elissa Suh: Honestly, the costumes and set design—and the hair, don’t forget the hair!—were the most (only) rewarding parts of the film for me. I clung to them. Each one outdid the next. My mind needed something to focus on, and so I actually appreciated the parade. I wonder what the final gown count was.

Radhika Jones: For me, the parade of dresses was a laugh-out-loud moment, sort of cathartic. Honestly, from the moment the character of Isabella was introduced, I felt like there was another parallel film happening, which was a little weirder (high bar, but still!) and more surreal. It wasn’t consistent, though, which made it hard to follow.

Eliza Brooke: I completely agree that Isabella was in a different film—and one that I would really like to watch! I thought Alison Oliver was an absolute delight and a high point of the movie. Obsessed with her weird dolls, her baby voice, and, frankly, her sexual self-knowledge.

Radhika Jones: Yes, this! I kept thinking: what parallel-universe movie is she performing this role in, because I’d like to see that! Fennell is good with that lighter touch. Isabella’s Romeo and Juliet monologue was pitch-perfect. And it did more to explain her character than any amount of ribbons (although the ribbons were fun).

Mina Le: I think maybe Fennell was trying to replicate Josh O’Connor and Tanya Reynolds’s characters in Emma with Isabella—that sort of weird and off-kilter side character. But it didn’t make sense for this particular movie … and Isabella has quite a lot of substance in the book, too, that she lost here.

Eliza Brooke: Isabella was giving Emma (2020) for suuure!

Mina Le: I can definitely see the humor in the ostentatiousness. Maybe my issue was that the film didn’t seem to take itself seriously. Tonally, I was getting whiplash. I mean, this story is pretty tragic, but the confectionery production design is very reminiscent of ’60s-’70s medieval-revival love stories.

Elissa Suh: It’s hard for me to determine whether the costuming really achieved anything meaningful, because the film overall is muddled and caught between wanting to be subversive while also sticking to traditional conventions of romance—and then failing to really deliver on either.

Did Robbie and Elordi actually become Cathy and Heathcliff for you? Was their chemistry convincing?

Mina Le: Though I think that Robbie and Elordi are great and talented actors, the casting inaccuracy really pulled me out of it. I couldn’t believe them in these roles, unfortunately. Especially when the actors who played Edgar and Isabella more so represented who Heathcliff and Cathy were in my mind, so I kept getting distracted by that loss whenever they came onscreen.

Elissa Suh: Margot was not always credible to me, even though she tries. She seems a bit too old—no ageism—to play someone going through their first love. I mean, isn’t part of the appeal of Margot Robbie as an actor the way she seems like she was just born a mature woman? Like, this is why we were all in collective shock in 2013 when we found out she was only 20-something years old and playing Leo’s wife in The Wolf of Wall Street.

I felt like sometimes Cathy—or Robbie as Cathy—was too coy or “modern” in giving a winking kind of performance, but then other times not. Going back to what Mina said earlier, this is definitely part of the tonal whiplash that undermines the film.

Eliza Brooke: I agree that Margot Robbie doesn’t read as someone who would spy a pair of people getting it on and be shocked by that. I struggled to see either of them as the book’s Cathy and Heathcliff simply because … those characters are not Cathy and Heathcliff! [Elordi’s] Heathcliff in particular bears no resemblance to the vindictive, abusive character in the book. In the movie, he’s noble and loyal as a child, and he’s passionate and devoted as a grown man. People keep calling him a “brute,” and Cathy claims he has a “wicked temper,” but he’s basically a decent guy. I think Fennell has to have it that way in order for him to remain a blameless, gorgeous heartthrob—and in order for Cathy to deserve him, she also has to be less of an asshole than she is in the book.

Radhika Jones: Exactly. Heathcliff is truly abusive in the book, as much as we might like to forget it.

Mina Le: In the film, Heathcliff kept referring to himself as “cruel” and “savage”—that was just before the Isabella-in-chains scene, too—but besides his self-declarations, there really were no traces of that? He’s totally a sweetie.

Eliza Brooke: Yes! On the BDSM bit—when he marries Isabella in the book, he’s unbelievably cruel to her, and she’s utterly miserable for it. In the movie, his “cruelty” translates to giving her what she wants, sexually speaking. Including chaining her up like a dog.

Mina Le: Another way that Fennell unfortunately strays from the meaning of the novel for the purpose of sex and shock value.

Radhika Jones: I couldn’t think of them as Cathy and Heathcliff. I’m not a reader who visualizes characters, so it wasn’t like they contrasted with specific actors I would have wanted. But the relationship diverges so much from the text that I just thought of them as playing other roles. Elordi in particular seemed like a very gentle Heathcliff. It’s a gentleness that worked so well as the creature in Frankenstein, but here it seemed at odds with the story.

Mina Le: Even his pivot to “sadism” in the second half of the film felt off to me. It didn’t seem aligned with how he developed Heathcliff up to that point. I get that there’s a time jump, but something about it was still unsatisfying to me.

I also think Elordi’s Heathcliff is Byronic-hero coded, which is sort of the antithesis of who the character is supposed to be. Wuthering Heights is supposed to be an inversion of the romances of the time.

Elissa Suh: I also want to say that any potential lack of chemistry is due to the writing and the way the movie unfolds. Elordi and Robbie are talented, but for me, the problem starts at the beginning with the child actors (no shade to Owen Cooper and Charlotte Mellington, who are just doing their job). The scenes of earlier life were pretty rote, doing the heavy lifting to ground the romance. We know Cathy and Heathcliff are going to fall in love because we understand the conventions of romance, even if we have never read Brontë. It was like Emerald was operating mechanically with the scenes of their childhood, telling rather than showing us how to feel. This dully-formed character investment carries through to the end of the film for me, so anything between Cathy and Heathcliff later on could only be believed to a certain extent.

Radhika Jones: The scene when I most believed in all of it was Cathy’s declaration to Nelly that she would marry Linton because she thought it might help raise Heathcliff up. I believed in that moment that she cared about Heathcliff. It was less about the chemistry between the two of them onscreen together, and more about her own conception of how love might direct her life.

Eliza Brooke: Speaking of Nelly … should we talk about how that character changed? I found it fascinating that, by making Heathcliff and Cathy into star-crossed lovers who aren’t all that terrible, Fennell had to turn someone else into the story’s villain. And Nelly was that guy.

Radhika Jones: I went back to the book to look at that scene specifically, in her narration of it to Lockwood (in the frame story that’s not in the film). And Nelly does see Heathcliff outside, and she does keep that from Cathy. But in the book, she’s not in a position to control events the way she does in the film, especially at the end. And she’s not set up with a resentful backstory (it’s mentioned early in the film that she’s a bastard child, right? So she’s not just a servant, she’s also an outcast). In the book, she meddles, but she’s not vindictive—or at least, if she is, it’s all mixed up in her unreliable narration and gives the reader something productive to consider.

Eliza Brooke: Exactly. In the book, when Nelly fails to intervene after Heathcliff overhears Cathy saying that marrying him would “degrade her” (and runs off before her confession of love), it doesn’t seem like she’s trying to punish them. She’s more of a neutral third-party observer. In the movie version, Nelly acts with much more intent.

Elissa Suh: A person of color who is the help/(hand)maid. How revolutionary. What a disservice to Hong Chau.

Eliza Brooke: Yep!

Mina Le: Ironically, I felt that Edgar’s casting (a brown man to represent this character who’s extremely noble) really took away from the important class/racial commentary present in the book (because Elordi’s Heathcliff is white). And in normal circumstances, I would be fine with Hong Chau’s casting (she also did amazing as Nelly), but considering this was totally “colorblind,” it felt like subliminal biases were present. Especially because neither Edgar nor Nelly gets character development that I felt was substantive enough.

Eliza Brooke: I agree with this. When the two actors of color are playing the villain and the cuck, it reads as subliminal bias.

Radhika Jones: Hong Chau was so good, I almost wished she had more power. She was incredibly convincing. She reminded me visually of the handmaids in Vermeer paintings, who ferry letters back and forth surreptitiously between lovers. That moment when the camera pulls back and you see all the black and white tile and she’s there with Cathy. I wished there were more quiet moments like that, where, as a viewer, you could sit with the dynamics between two characters and really ponder them. So I was extra-annoyed when her character became more of a cartoon gatekeeper and villain at the end.

I was surprised by how tame the actual sex was in this, compared to Saltburn. Maybe that says something about me? Did the eroticism here live up to anyone’s expectations based on the marketing?

Mina Le: So what did y’all think of all those eggs?

Radhika Jones: Is it a sign of the times (their times? our times?) that I immediately thought, what a waste of eggs! Eggs are expensive!

Eliza Brooke: I was feeling bad about the lack of washing machines, personally.

Mina Le: You know Nelly was pissed.

Elissa Suh: There’s a certain level of salaciousness one has come to expect from an Emerald Fennell movie, and that is woefully absent here.

Mina Le: I literally thought Heathcliff was going to hump Cathy’s corpse at the end of the film because of all she put me through with Saltburn, and weirdly? Disappointed that nothing happened.

Elissa Suh: I was waiting for that too! Part of me wonders if Emerald had entertained that thought and was stopped by the studio?

Eliza Brooke: Yes! Maybe she felt like she couldn’t have two grave-humping scenes in back-to-back movies? (Relatedly, I was shocked, upon recent re-read, to realize that nobody actually humps a corpse in the book. I could have sworn that happened.)

Elissa Suh: And it would have been more earned here, too.

Radhika Jones: I had really been hoping Fennell would film a scene that’s in the book in which Heathcliff has Cathy’s coffin dug up and opened, 13 years after her death. He checks her out, notes that she hasn’t started decomposing yet and still looks great, then convinces the sexton to leave a side of her coffin open so he can eventually be buried next to her, with a side of his coffin open, so their bodies can merge for eternity.

Eliza Brooke: That would have been a stronger ending. Missed opportunity!

Elissa Suh: Close enough to corpse-humping for me.

Mina Le: Yeah, and honestly, would’ve done more to show how messed-up their relationship actually was. I think flashing back to them as children made it feel too “happily ever after” and overly sentimental, considering how much destruction they caused.

Radhika Jones: I love that Brontë goes there. Honestly, when the source text is so extreme, it doesn’t leave much room to maneuver. To Fennell’s credit, a lot of the language that seems over-the-top comes from the novel. But the onscreen sex was, in my opinion, not as credible in the parameters she set. In the fake-parallel-Isabella movie that we’re writing together, yes!

Elissa Suh: In general, the sex scenes were few and far between, and the ones we did see seemed like pure clickbait, engineered for Instagram. The BDSM lite—if you can even call it that—with Isabella? That’s it? I can’t believe I’m saying this, but this movie could’ve benefited from the edgelord tendencies of Saltburn and Promising Young Woman.

Eliza Brooke: Absolutely. If you’re going to show us two freaks in love … show us two freaks in love.

Mina Le: I wasn’t even sure how much of the BDSM was actually happening between Heath and Isabella, versus overdramatized in her letters to stoke Cathy’s jealousy. Even when Isabella’s yapping with her collar, it’s with the context that Cathy is supposed to stop by.

Elissa Suh: True. It’s all just a show. The peak of provocation from this movie, it seems, was Elordi’s tongue wagging in people’s ears.

Fennell skips the second half of the novel, which dives into the trauma Heathcliff and Cathy’s love inflicts on their offspring. Do you think it’s the right choice to focus on the love story versus the full, intergenerational tragedy of the book? Does the audience lose anything significant?

Eliza Brooke: We definitely lose something for it! I get why filmmakers avoid the portion of the book that takes place after Cathy’s death, especially when that would mean benching your biggest star. However: what’s so incredible about the book is how Brontë weaves a story about an inescapable cycle of familial abuse that makes monsters out of each progressive generation (until it doesn’t!). I wish that spirit had broken through in this movie, just because it’s so well done in the book. But that wasn’t the love story Fennell wanted to tell.

Mina Le: Yes, on that last point, I think if these adaptations that focus on the first half are still able to weave in the themes of the book and stay true to the heart of it, I don’t mind them axing off the time jumps and Cathy II and Linton Heathcliff (the fact that they all have the same names is insane, thanks, Ms. Brontë), because I understand it can be more difficult to structure for film.

Radhika Jones: It’s understandable that any filmmaker would do it, but the revenge part of the novel only comes to some sort of resolution at the end. So in this case, with the focus on the first half, you get Heathcliff trying to exact revenge, but it doesn’t really pay off. In the novel, he goes after Edgar Linton, long after Cathy is dead, to get his hands on the property. That has huge implications in terms of his obsession with gaining power over the people who scorned him. Here, his revenge motivation is more muddled. He’s mad at Cathy for making a mistake. That doesn’t seem like enough to drive his bad behavior.

Elissa Suh: The motivation was indeed thin to me, who hasn’t read the Brontë. So if you’re not going to go into the depths of character and theme, then you should at least go all out with the sex and kink or what-have-you. Literally anything.

Mina Le: Honestly, in this version I think they downplayed Heathcliff’s childhood abuse quite a lot, so it’s probably better that Fennell didn’t try to tackle the second half. It wouldn’t feel realistic for this Heathcliff to hold so many grudges.

Eliza Brooke: 100%! This version of Heathcliff would not abuse his own son like that.

Elissa Suh: Not having read the book, I can’t speak to specifics, but I think it’s the filmmaker’s right to focus on what they want; but they should have a good reason for doing it. All said and done, this did not amount to much beyond your typical romance with Gothic undertones—I don’t think it’s particularly memorable, and from what you’ve all said, a much more interesting story was originally there. You are all really making me want to read the book.

Radhika Jones: Heathcliff is deeply unhinged in the book (some of it justified, some not), such that if you made a literal BBC-style miniseries, à la 1994 Pride and Prejudice, people would be like, “This is insane, it couldn’t possibly have been written in 1847.”

Elissa Suh: This is the kind of TV we desperately need.

Radhika Jones: Right? Clearly there’s an audience for it!

Wait, there is a BBC miniseries from 2009! OK, I know what my next watch is.

Elissa Suh: Just put that on HBO instead of BBC, and voilà.

Mina Le: Maybe the bright side of this adaptation is that it will spur more interest in Wuthering Heights in general, so we can get the adaptation we want.

Radhika Jones: Now I’m wondering if there’s a Clueless-type adaptation that is fully contemporary but gets the themes and story contours exactly right.

Eliza Brooke: Oh, that’s a great question and idea. The tough thing about adapting Wuthering Heights in a way that’s true to the story is that it will be extremely grim. But I think that contemporary viewers have enough of an appetite for misery that it would work out fine.

Radhika Jones: Let’s pitch it! I think part of the fun of a closer adaptation would be casting the two generations.

Fennell has said she wanted to make the Wuthering Heights she imagined when she first read the book at 14. Is that a legitimate approach to adaptation—prioritizing the feeling a book gave you over what the book actually says? Should Fennell have just made an original film instead?

Elissa Suh: That’s an approach for sure, but maybe not a good one. If that was her M.O., then she succeeded—but it still doesn’t make it a good movie. Also, sidenote: I think that adapting the feeling or sensibility of a book (albeit not rooted in nostalgia) and translating that mood to the screen is a legitimate approach. There’s a bit of film theory on that, where André Bazin says, “literal translations are not the faithful ones.”

Radhika Jones: I wrote in my opening book club piece about Wuthering Heights that increasingly I think it’s a middle-aged book. We meet Heathcliff in the novel when he’s around 38. He’s seen a lot, he’s endured and occasioned a lot of tragic events. He’s a hollow man.

So on the one hand, I think Fennell captures the book you read when you’re 14 (or anyway, the book she read), where all you notice is this doomed, passionate connection between two young people. But the book itself is not merely about that. That said, filmmakers absolutely get to make the films they want. And you can tell in the script that the language of Wuthering Heights, that is part of that doomed love story, means a lot to her.

Mina Le: I think there is a way to adapt something based on how you read it as a child, but that has to somehow be acknowledged and present in the way you tell the story. Not that this is an Oscar-winning idea, but I feel like if it were framed as a 14-year-old girl reading the book, and it went in and out of the story, then that could be a way to show this very specific interpretation that is also sort of wrong. Rob Reiner did this with The Princess Bride (though I haven’t read the book, so maybe there is book-reading-ception in the book). Or with Stand by Me, when the main character is later depicted writing his memoir at his desk.

Eliza Brooke: Oh, I like that idea. And it would be a little nod to the framing device in the book, with Nelly narrating the story to Heathcliff’s new tenant.

If I were adapting the book that I remember reading in high school, there would be 100% more grave-fucking.

Elissa Suh: Emily Brontë would’ve wanted it that way.

Eliza Brooke: I feel like the story that Fennell actually wanted to tell was Romeo and Juliet? As discussed above, there’s a reference to the play right there in the script. Or rather, maybe Fennell wanted to make a version of Romeo and Juliet in the sweeping atmosphere of Wuthering Heights.

Radhika Jones: I think this is why Isabella’s Romeo and Juliet moment was so satisfying to me. It was an addition to the story and dialogue that felt thematically valuable, not gratuitous.

Elissa Suh: The Baz Luhrmann one? That one has a great sense of play, which is missing here. I think there’s a world where she could’ve managed that in Wuthering Heights (I mean, the quotations!) despite the dark material.

Eliza Brooke: Speaking of Baz, he and Fennell share a lot of DNA in terms of their over-the-top aesthetics (and willingness to let the aesthetics do the heavy lifting for them). I wonder how much of an inspiration he is for her.

Mina Le: Okay, guys—I think we’re done!

Radhika Jones: Most fun in a Google doc ever?

Elissa Suh: This was so fun! Hope to see you all outside of a Google doc too, one day.

Mina Le: Yes—we need to get together to pitch our Wuthering Heights adaptation series to HBO.

Elissa Suh: Substack Productions!

More on the participants:

• is a culture writer and film critic whose work has appeared in Vogue, Eater, New York Magazine, and MUBI. Her Substack, Moviepudding, pairs reviews of films and food.

• is a writer, editor, and book critic. The former editor in chief of Vanity Fair, she is currently running a book club on her Substack. They’re currently reading Wuthering Heights, naturally.

• is a culture, entertainment, and fashion journalist. Her Substack features interviews alongside essays on film and fashion.

• is a writer, actress, and video essayist. Her Substack, , analyzes fashion, film, and internet culture.

The story of AI

Patrick McKenzie: You’ve been hired as a historian of the past few years. Succinctly narrate what has been built since Attention Is All You Need. What about 2025 would surprise an audience in 2017? What predictions of well-informed people have not been borne out? Tell the story as you would to someone in your domain—research, policy, or markets.

Jack Clark: Back in 2017, most people were betting that the path to a truly general-purpose system would come from training agents from scratch on a curriculum of increasingly hard tasks, and through this, create a generally capable system. This was present in the research projects from all the major labs, like DeepMind and OpenAI, trying to train superhuman players in games like Starcraft, Dota 2, and AlphaGo. I think of this as basically a “tabula rasa” bet—start with a blank agent and bake it in some environment(s) until it becomes smart.

Of course, as we all know now, this didn’t actually lead to general intelligences—but it did lead to superhuman agents within the task distribution they were trained on.

At this time, people had started experimenting with a different approach, doing large-scale training on datasets and trying to build models that could predict and generate from these distributions. This ended up working extremely well, and was accelerated by two key things:

1. the Transformer framework from Attention Is All You Need, which made this type of large-scale pre-training much more efficient, and

2. the roughly parallel development of “Scaling Laws,” or the basic insight that you could model out the relationship between capabilities of pre-trained models and the underlying resources (data, compute) you pour into them.

By combining Transformers and the Scaling Laws insights, a few people correctly bet that you could get general-purpose systems by massively scaling up the data and compute.

Now, in a very funny way, things are coming full circle: people are starting to build agents again, but this time, they’re imbued with all the insights that come from pre-trained models. A really nice example of this is the SIMA 2 paper from DeepMind, where they make a general-purpose agent for exploring 3D environments, and it piggybacks on an underlying pre-trained Gemini model. Another example is Claude Code, which is a coding agent that derives its underlying capabilities from a big pre-trained model.

Patrick: Due to large language models (LLMs) being programmable and widely available, including open source software (OSS) versions that are more limited but still powerful relative to 2017, we’re now at the point where no further development on AI capabilities (or anything else interesting) will ever need to be built on a worse cognitive substrate than what we currently have. This “what you see today is the floor, not the ceiling” is one of the things I think best understood by insiders and worst understood by policymakers and the broader world.

Every future Starcraft AI has already read The Art of War in the original Chinese, unless its designers assess that makes it worse at defending against Zerg rushes.

Jack: Yes, something we say often to policymakers at Anthropic is “This is the worst it will ever be!” and it’s really hard to convey to them just how important that ends up being. The other thing which is unintuitive is how quickly capabilities improve—one current example is how many people are currently playing with Opus 4.5 in Claude Code and saying some variation of “Wow, this stuff is so much better than it was before.” If you last played with LLMs in November, you’re now wildly miscalibrated about the frontier.

Michael Burry: From my perspective, in 2017, AI wasn’t LLMs. AI was artificial general intelligence (AGI). I think people didn’t think of LLMs as being AI back then. I mean, I grew up on science fiction books, and they predict a lot, but none of them pictured “AI” as something like a search-intensive chatbot.

For Attention Is All You Need and its introduction of the transformer model, these were all Google engineers using Tensor, and back in the mid-teens, AI was not a foreign concept. Neural networks, machine learning startups were common, and AI was mentioned a lot in meetings. Google had the large language model already, but it was internal. One of the biggest surprises to me is that Google wasn’t leading this the whole way given its Search and Android dominance, both with the chips and the software.

Another surprise is that I thought application-specific integrated circuits (ASICs) would be adopted far earlier, and small language models (SLMs) would be adopted far earlier. That Nvidia has continued to be the chip for AI this far into inference is shocking.

The biggest surprise to me is that ChatGPT kicked off the spending boom. The use cases for ChatGPT have generally been limited from the start—search, students cheating, and coding. Now there are better LLMs for coding. But it was a chatbot that kicked off trillions in spending.

Speaking of that spending, I thought one of the best moments of Dwarkesh’s interview with Satya Nadella was the acknowledgement that all the big software companies are hardware companies now, capital-intensive, and I am not sure the analysts following them even know what maintenance capital expenditure is.

Dwarkesh Patel: Great points. It is quite surprising how non-durable leads in AI so far have been. Of course, in 2017, Google was far and away ahead. A couple years ago, OpenAI seemed way ahead of the pack. There is some force (potentially talent poaching, rumor mills, or reverse engineering) which has so far neutralized any runaway advantages a single lab might have had. Instead, the big three keep rotating around the podium every few months. I’m curious whether “recursive superintelligence” would actually be able to change this, or whether we should just have a prior and strong competition forever.

Jack: On recursion, all the frontier labs are speeding up their own developers using AI tools, but it’s not very neat. It seems to have the property of “you’re only as fast as the weakest link in the chain”—for instance, if you can now produce 10x more code but your code review tools have only improved by 2x, you aren’t seeing a massive speedup. A big open question is whether it’ll be possible to fully close this loop, in which case you might see some kind of compounding R&D advantage.

Do AI tools actually improve productivity?

Dwarkesh: The million-dollar question is whether the METR productivity study (which shows that developers working in codebases they understood well had a roughly 20% decrease on merging pull requests from coding tools) or human equivalent time horizons of self-contained coding tasks (which are already in the many-hours range and doubling every four to seven months) is a better measure of how much speedup researchers and engineers at labs are actually getting. I don’t have direct experience here, but I’d guess it’s closer to the former, given that there isn’t a great feedback verification loop and the criteria are open-ended (maintainability, taste, etc.).

Jack: Agreed, this is a crucial question—and the data is conflicting and sparse. For example, we did a survey of developers at Anthropic and saw a self-reported 50% productivity boost from the 60% of those surveyed who used Claude in their work. But then things like the METR study would seem to contradict that. We need better data and, specifically, instrumentation for developers inside and outside the AI labs to see what is going on. To zoom out a bit, the massive and unprecedented uptake of coding tools does suggest people are seeing some major subjective benefit from using them—it would be very unintuitive if an increasing percentage of developers were enthusiastically making themselves less productive.

Dwarkesh: Not to rabbit hole on this, but the self-reported productivity being way higher than—and potentially even in the opposite direction of—true productivity is predicted by the METR study.

Jack: Yes, agreed. Without disclosing too much, we’re thinking specifically about instrumentation and figuring out what is “true” here, because what people self-report may end up being different from reality. Hopefully we’ll have some research outputs on this in 2026!

Which company is winning?

Michael: Do you think the podium will keep rotating? From what I’m hearing, Google is winning among developers from both AWS and Microsoft. And it seems the “search inertia” has been purged at the company.

Dwarkesh: Interesting. Seems more competitive than ever to me. The Twitter vibes are great for both Opus 4.5 and Gemini 3.5 Pro. No opinion on which company will win, but it definitely doesn’t seem settled.

Jack: Seems more competitive than ever to me, also!

Dwarkesh: Curious on people’s take on this: how many failed training runs/duds of models could Anthropic or OpenAI or Google survive? Given the constant need to fundraise (side question: for what exactly?) on the back of revenue and vibes.

Michael: The secret to Google search was always how cheap it was, so that informational searches that were not monetizable (and make up 80% or more) did not pile up as losses for the company. I think this is the fundamental problem with generative AI and LLMs today—they are so expensive. It is hard to understand what the profit model is, or what any one model’s competitive advantage will be—will it be able to charge more, or run cheaper?

Perhaps Google will be the one that can run cheapest in the end, and will win the commodity economy that this becomes.

Dwarkesh: Great point. Especially if you think many/most of the gains over the last year have been the result of inference scaling, which requires an exponential increase in variable cost to sustain.

Ultimately, the price of something is upper-bounded by the cost to replace it. So foundation model companies can only charge high margins (which they currently seem to be) if progress continues to be fast and, to Jack’s point, becomes eventually self-compounding.

Why hasn’t AI stolen all our jobs?

Dwarkesh: It’s really surprising how much is involved in automating jobs and doing what people do. We’ve just marched through so many common-sense definitions of AGI—the Turing test is not even worth commenting on anymore; we have models that can reason and solve difficult, open-ended coding and math problems. If you showed me Gemini 3 or Claude 4.5 Opus in 2017, I would have thought it would put half of white-collar workers out of their jobs. And yet the labor market impact of AI requires spreadsheet microscopes to see, if there is indeed any.

I would have also found the scale and speed of private investment in AI surprising. Even as of a couple years ago, people were talking about how AGI would have to be a government, Manhattan-style project, because that’s the only way you can turn the economy into a compute and data engine. And so far, it seems like good ol’-fashioned markets can totally sustain multiple GDP percentages of investment in AI.

Michael: Good point, Dwarkesh, re: the Turing test—that was definitely the discussion for a good while. In the past, for instance, during the Industrial Revolution and the Services Revolution, the impacts on labor were so great that mandatory schooling was instituted and expanded to keep young people out of the labor pool for longer. We certainly have not seen anything like that.

Jack: Yes, Dwarkesh and Michael, a truism for the AI community is they keep on building supposedly hard tasks that will measure true intelligence, then AI systems blow past these benchmarks, and you find yourself with something which is superficially very capable but still likely makes errors which any human would recognize as bizarre or unintuitive. One recent example is LLMs were scored “superhuman” on a range of supposedly hard cognitive tasks, according to benchmarks, but were incapable of self-correcting when they made errors. This is now improving, but it’s an illustration of how unintuitive the weaknesses of AI models can be. And you often discover them alongside massive improvements.

Dwarkesh: I wonder if the inverse is also true—humans reliably make classes of errors that an LLM would recognize as bizarre or unintuitive, lol. Are LLMs actually more jagged than people, or just jagged in a different way?

Patrick: Stealing an observation from Dwarkesh’s book, a mundane way in which LLMs are superhuman is that they speak more languages than any human—by a degree that confounds the imagination—and with greater facility than almost all polyglots ever achieve. Incredibly, this happens by accident, even without labs specifically training for it. One of the most dumbfounding demos I’ve ever seen was an LLM trained on a corpus intended to include only English documents yet able to translate a CNN news article to Japanese at roughly the standard of a professional translator. From that perspective, an LLM that hadn’t had politeness trained into it might say, “Humans are bizarre and spiky; look how many of them don’t speak Japanese despite living in a world with books.”

Why many workers aren’t using AI (yet)

Patrick: Coding seems to be the leading edge for widespread industrial adoption of AI, with meteoric revenue growth for companies like Cursor, technologists with taste taking to tools like Claude Code and OpenAI Codex, and the vibes around “vibe coding.” This causes a pronounced asymmetry of enthusiasm for AI, since most people are not coders. What sector changes next? What change would make this visible in earnings, employment, or prices rather than demos?

Jack: Coding has a nice property of being relatively “closed loop”—you use an LLM to generate or tweak code, which you then validate and push into production. It really took the arrival of a broader set of tools for LLMs to take on this “closed loop” property in domains outside of coding—for instance, the creation of web search capabilities and the arrival of stuff like Model Context Protocol (MCP) connectivity has allowed LLMs to massively expand their “closed loop” utility beyond coding.

As an example, I’ve been doing research on the cost curves of various things recently (e.g. dollars of mass to orbit, or dollars per watt from solar), and it’s the kind of thing you could research with LLMs prior to these tools, but it had immense amounts of friction and forced you to go back and forth between the LLM and everything else. Now that friction has been taken away, you’re seeing greater uptake. Therefore, I expect we’re about to see what happened to coders happen to knowledge workers more broadly—and this feels like it should show up in a diffuse but broad way across areas like science research, the law, academia, consultancy, and other domains.

Michael: At the end of the day, AI has to be purchased by someone. Someone out there pays for a good or service. That is GDP. And that spending grows at GDP rates, 2% to 4%—with perhaps some uplift for companies with pricing power, which doesn’t seem likely in the future of AI.

Economies don’t have magically expanding pies. They have arithmetically constrained pies. Nothing fancy. The entire software pie—SaaS software running all kinds of corporate and creative functions—is less than $1 trillion. This is why I keep coming back to the infrastructure-to-application ratio—Nvidia selling $400 billion of chips for less than $100 billion in end-user AI product revenue.

AI has to grow productivity and create new categories of spending that don’t cannibalize other categories. This is all very hard to do. Will AI grow productivity enough? That is debatable. The capital expenditure spending cycle is faith-based and FOMO-based. No one is pointing to numbers that work. Yet.

There is a much simpler narrative out there that AI will make everything so much better that spending will explode. It is more likely to take spending in. If AI replaces a $500 seat license with a $50 one, that is great for productivity but is deflationary for productivity spend. And that productivity gained is likely to be shared by all competitors.

Dwarkesh: Michael, isn’t this the “lump of labor” fallacy? That there’s a fixed amount of software to be written, and that we can upper bound the impact of AI on software by that?

Michael: New markets do emerge, but they develop slower than acutely incentivized futurists believe. This has always been true. Demographics and total addressable market (TAM) are too often marketing gimmicks not grounded in reality. China’s population is shrinking. Europe’s is shrinking. The U.S. is the only major Western country growing, and that is because of immigration, but that has been politicized as well. FOMO is a hell of a drug. You look at some comments from Apple or Microsoft, and it seems they realize that.

Dwarkesh: As a sidenote, it’s funny that AI comes around just when we needed it to save us from the demographic sinkhole our economies would have otherwise been collapsing into over the next few decades.

Michael: Yes, Dwarkesh. In medicine, where there are real shortages, there is no hope for human doctors to be numerous enough in the future. Good medical care has to become cheaper, and technology is needed to extend the reach and coverage of real medical expertise.

Are engineers going to be out of work?

Patrick: AppAmaGooFaceSoft [Apple, Amazon, Google, Facebook, Microsoft] presently employ on the order of 500,000 engineers. Put a number on that for 2035 and explain your thinking—or argue that headcount is the wrong variable, and name the balance-sheet or productivity metric you’d track instead.

Michael: From 2000, Microsoft added 18,000 employees as the stock went nowhere for 14 years. In fact headcount barely moved at Cisco, Dell, and Intel, despite big stock crashes. So I think it is the wrong variable. It tells us nothing about value creation, especially for cash-rich companies and companies in monopoly, duopoly, or oligopoly situations. I think it will be lower, or not much higher, because I think we are headed for a very long downturn. The hyperscalers laid off employees in 2022 when their stocks fell, and hired most of them back when their stocks rose. This is over a couple years.

I would track shareholder-based compensation’s (SBC) all-in cost before saying productivity is making a record run. At Nvidia, I calculated that roughly half of its profit is eliminated by compensation linked to stock that transferred value to those employees. Well, if half the employees are now worth $25 million, then what is the productivity gain on those employees? Not to mention, margins with accurate SBC costs would be much lower.

The measure to beat all measures is return on invested capital (ROIC), and ROIC was very high at these software companies. Now that they are becoming capital-intensive hardware companies, ROIC is sure to fall, and this will pressure shares in the long run. Nothing predicts long-term trends in the markets like the direction of ROIC—up or down, and at what speed. ROIC is heading down really fast at these companies now, and that will be true through 2035.

In his interview with Dwarkesh, Satya Nadella said that he’s looking for software to maintain ROIC through a heavy capital expenditure cycle. I cannot see it, and even to Nadella, it sounds like only a hope.

Dwarkesh: Naive question, but why is ROIC more important than absolute returns? I’d rather own a big business that can keep growing and growing (albeit as a smaller fraction of investment) than a small business that basically prints cash but is upper-bounded in size.

So many of the big tech companies have lower ROIC, but their addressable market over the next two decades has increased from ads ($400 billion in revenue a year) to labor (tens of trillions in revenue a year).

Michael: Return on invested capital—and, more importantly, its trend—is a measure of how much opportunity is left in the company. From my perspective, I have seen many roll-ups where companies got bigger primarily through buying other companies with debt. This brings ROIC into cold focus. If the return on those purchases ends up being less than the cost of debt, the company fails in a manner akin to WorldCom.

At some point, this spending on the AI buildout has to have a return on investment higher than the cost of that investment, or there is just no economic value added. If a company is bigger because it borrowed a lot more or spent all its cash flow on something low-return, that is not an attractive quality to an investor, and the multiple will fall. There are many non-tech companies printing cash with no real prospects for growth beyond buying it, and they trade at about 8x earnings.

Where is the money going?

Patrick: From a capital-cycle perspective, where do you think we are in the AI build-out—early over-investment, mid-cycle shakeout, or something structurally different from past tech booms? What would change your mind?

Michael: I do see it as different from prior booms, except in that the capital spending is remarkably short-lived. Chips cycle every year now; data centers of today won’t handle the chips of a few years from now. One could almost argue that a lot of this should be expensed, not capitalized. Or depreciated over two, three, four years.

Another big difference is that private credit is financing this boom as much as or more than public capital markets. This private credit is a murky area, but the duration mismatch stands out—much of this is being securitized as if the assets last two decades, while giving the hyperscaler outs every four to five years. This is just asking for trouble. Stranded assets.

Of course, the spenders are the richest companies on earth, but whether from cash or capital markets, big spending is big spending, and the planned spending overwhelms the balance sheets and cash flow of even today’s massive hyperscalers.

Also, construction in progress (CIP) is now an accounting trick that I believe is already being used. Capital equipment not yet “placed into service” does not start depreciating or counting against income. And it can be there forever. I imagine a lot of stranded assets will be hidden in CIP to protect income, and I think we are already seeing that potential.

In Dwarkesh’s interview, Nadella said he backed off some projects and slowed down the buildout because he did not want to get stuck with four or five years of depreciation on one generation of chips. That is a bit of a smoking-gun statement.

We are mid-cycle now—past the point where stocks will reward investors for further buildout, and getting into the period where the true costs and the lack of revenue will start to show themselves.

In past cycles, stocks and capital markets peaked about halfway through, and the rest of the capital expenditure occurred as a progressively pessimistic, or realistic, view descended on the assets of concern.

Dwarkesh: I think this is so downstream of whether AI continues to improve at a rapid clip. If you could actually run the most productive human minds on a B200 (Nvidia’s B200 GPU), then we’re obviously massively underinvesting. I think the revenues from the application layer so far are less informative than raw predictions about progress in AI capabilities themselves.

Jack: Agreed on this—the amount of progress in capabilities in recent years has been deeply surprising and has led to massive growth in utilization of AI. In the future, there could be further step-change increases in model capabilities, and these could have extremely significant effects on the economy.

What the market gets wrong

Patrick: Where does value accrue in the AI supply chain? How is this different from recent or historical technological advances? Who do you think the market is most wrong about right now?

Michael: Well, value accrues, historically, in all industries, to those with a durable competitive advantage manifesting as either pricing power or an untouchable cost or distribution advantage.

It is not clear that the spending here will lead to that.

Warren Buffett owned a department store in the late 1960s. When the department store across the street put an escalator in, he had to, too. In the end, neither benefited from that expensive project. No durable margin improvement or cost improvement, and both were in the same exact spot. That is how most AI implementation will play out.

This is why trillions of dollars of spending with no clear path to utilization by the real economy is so concerning. Most will not benefit, because their competitors will benefit to the same extent, and neither will have a competitive advantage because of it.

I think the market is most wrong about the two poster children for AI: Nvidia and Palantir. These are two of the luckiest companies. They adapted well, but they are lucky because when this all started, neither had designed a product for AI. But they are getting used as such.

Nvidia’s advantage is not durable. SLMs and ASICs are the future for most use cases in AI. They will be backward-compatible with CUDA [Nvidia’s parallel computing platform and programming model] if at all necessary. Nvidia is the power-hungry, dirty solution holding the fort until the competition comes in with a completely different approach.

Palantir’s CEO compared me to [bad actors] because of an imagined billion-dollar bet against his company. That is not a confident CEO. He’s marketing as hard as he can to keep this going, but it will slip. There are virtually no earnings after stock-based compensation.

Dwarkesh: It remains to be seen whether AI labs can achieve a durable competitive advantage from recursive self-improvement-type effects. But if Jack is right and AI developers should already be seeing huge productivity gains, then why are things more competitive now than ever? Either this kind of internal “dogfooding” cannot sustain a competitive advantage or the productivity gains from AI are smaller than they appear.

If it does turn out to be the case that (1) nobody across the AI stack can make crazy profits and (2) AI still turns out to be a big deal, then obviously the value accrues to the customer. Which, to my ears, sounds great.

Michael: In the escalator example, the only value accrued to the customer. This is how it always goes if no monopoly rents can be charged by the producers or providers.

What would change their minds

Patrick: What 2026 headline—technological or financial—would surprise you and cause you to recalibrate your overall views on AI progress or valuation? Retrospectively, what was the biggest surprise or recalibration to date?

Michael: The biggest surprise that would cause me to recalibrate would be autonomous AI agents displacing millions of jobs at the biggest companies. This would shock me but would not necessarily help me understand where the durable advantage is. That Buffett escalator example again.

Another would be application-layer revenue hitting $500 billion or more because of a proliferation of killer apps.

Right now, we will see one of two things: either Nvidia’s chips last five to six years and people therefore need less of them, or they last two to three years and the hyperscalers’ earnings will collapse and private credit will get destroyed.

Retrospectively, the biggest surprises to date are:

1. Google wasn’t leading the whole way—the eight authors of Attention Is All You Need were all Google employees; they had Search, Gmail, Android, and even the LLM and the chips, but they fumbled it and gave an opening to competitors with far less going for them. Google playing catch-up to a startup in AI: that is mind-blowing.

2. ChatGPT—a chatbot kicked off a multi-trillion-dollar infrastructure race. It’s like someone built a prototype robot and every business in the world started investing for a robot future.

3. Nvidia has maintained dominance this far into the inference era. I expected ASICs and SLMs to be dominant by now, and that we would have moved well beyond prompt engineering. Perhaps the Nvidia infatuation actually held players back. Or anticompetitive behavior at Nvidia did.

Dwarkesh: Biggest surprises to me would be:

• 2026 cumulative AI lab revenues are below $40 billion or above $200 billion. It would imply that things have significantly sped up or slowed down compared to what I would have expected.

• Continual learning is solved. Not in the way that GPT-3 “solved” in-context learning, but in the way that GPT-5.2 is actually almost human-like in its ability to understand from context. If working with a model is like replicating a skilled employee that’s been working with you for six months rather than getting their labor on the first hour of their job, I think that constitutes a huge unlock in AI capabilities.

• Since 2020, my timelines to AGI have narrowed considerably—the scaling results have made it hard to place much probability on “completely wrong track, wait until end of century.” At the same time, there is a core of human-like learning missing that a true AGI must have. I now expect something like 5 to 15 years. If progress deviates significantly from that trend line in either direction, I’ll update.

Jack: If “scaling hits a wall,” that would be truly surprising and would have very significant implications for both the underlying research paradigm as well as the broader AI economy. Obviously, the infrastructure buildout, including the immense investments in facilities for training future AI models, suggests that people are betting otherwise.

One other thing I’d find surprising is if there was a combination of a technological breakthrough that improved the efficiency of distributed training, and some set of actors that put together enough computers to train a very powerful system. If this happened, it would suggest you can not only have open-weight models but also a form of open model development where it doesn’t take a vast singular entity (e.g. a company) to train a frontier model. This would alter the political economy of AI and have extremely non-trivial policy implications, especially around the proliferation of frontier capabilities. Epoch has a nice analysis of distributed training that people may want to refer to.

How they actually use LLMs

Patrick: What was your last professionally significant interaction with an LLM? File off the serial numbers, if need be. How did you relate to the LLM in that interaction?

Michael: I use Claude to produce all my charts and tables now. I will find the source material, but I spend no time on creating or designing a professional table, chart, or visual. I still don’t trust the numbers and need to check them, but that creative aspect is in the past for me. Relatedly, I will use Claude in particular to find source material, as so much source material these days is not simply at the SEC or in a mainstream report.

Patrick: I think people outside of finance do not understand how many billions of dollars have been spent having some of the best-paid, best-educated people in the world employed as Microsoft PowerPoint and Excel specialists. There is still value in that, for the time being, and perhaps the shibboleth value of pivot tables and VLOOKUP() will endure longer than they do, but my presentation at the Bank of England also used LLMs for all the charts. It feels almost bizarre that we once asked humans to spend hours carefully adjusting them.

Dwarkesh: They are now my personal one-on-one tutors. I’ve actually tried to hire human tutors for different subjects I’m trying to prep for, and I’ve found the latency and speed of LLMs to just make for a qualitatively much better experience. I’m getting the digital equivalent of people being willing to pay huge premiums for Waymo over Uber. It inclines me to think that the human premium for many jobs will not only not be high, but in fact be negative.

Michael: On that point, many point to trade careers as an AI-proof choice. Given how much I can now do in electrical work and other areas around the house just with Claude at my side, I am not so sure. If I’m middle class and am facing an $800 plumber or electrician call, I might just use Claude. I love that I can take a picture and figure out everything I need to do to fix it.

Risk, power, and how to shape the future

Patrick: The spectrum of views on AI risk among relatively informed people runs the gamut from “it could cause some unpleasantness on social media” to “it would be a shame if China beat the U.S. on a very useful emerging technology with potential military applications” to “downside risks include the literal end of everything dear to humanity.” What most keeps you up at night? Separately, if you had five minutes with senior policymakers, what new allocation of attention and resources would you suggest?

Jack: The main thing I worry about is whether people succeed at “building AI that builds AI”—fully closing the loop on AI R&D (sometimes called recursively self-improving AI). To be clear, I assign essentially zero likelihood to there being recursively self-improving AI systems on the planet in January 2026, but we do see extremely early signs of AI getting better at doing components of AI research, ranging from kernel development to autonomously fine-tuning open-weight models.

If this stuff keeps getting better and you end up building an AI system that can build itself, then AI development would speed up very dramatically and probably become harder for people to understand. This would pose a range of significant policy issues and would also likely lead to an unprecedented step change in the economic activity of the world, attributable to AI systems.

Put another way, if I had five minutes with a policymaker, I’d basically say to them, “Self-improving AI sounds like science fiction, but there’s nothing in the technology that says it’s impossible, and if it happened it’d be a huge deal and you should pay attention to it. You should demand transparency from AI companies about exactly what they’re seeing here, and make sure you have third parties you trust who can test out AI systems for these properties.”

Michael: Jack, I imagine you have policymakers’ ears, and I hope they listen.

AI as it stands right now does not worry me much at all, as far as risks to humanity. I think chatbots have the potential to make people dumber—doctors that use them too much start to forget their actual innate medical knowledge. That is not good, but not catastrophic.

The catastrophic worries involving AGI or artificial superintelligence (ASI) are not too worrying to me. I grew up in the Cold War, and the world could blow up at any minute. We had school drills for that. I played soccer with helicopters dropping Malathion over all of us. And I saw Terminator over 30 years ago. Red Dawn seemed possible. I figure humans will adapt.

If I had the ear of senior policymakers, I would ask them to take a trillion dollars (since trillions just get thrown around like millions now) and bypass all the protests and regulations and dot the whole country with small nuclear reactors, while also building a brand-new, state-of-the-art grid for everyone. Do this as soon as possible and secure it all from attack with the latest physical and cybersecurity; maybe even create a special Nuclear Defense Force that protects each facility, funded federally.

This is the only hope of getting enough power to keep up with China, and it is the only hope we have as a country to grow enough to ultimately pay off our debt and guarantee long-term security, by not letting power be a limiting factor on our innovation.

Jack: Strongly agree on the energy part (though we might have a different subjective worry level about the other stuff!). AI will play a meaningful role in the economy, and it fundamentally depends on underlying infrastructure to deliver it efficiently and cheaply to businesses and consumers—analogous to how, in the past, countries have decided to do large-scale electrification, road building, sewer building, etc. (massive capital expenditure projects!). We need to urgently do the same for energy.

I also think large-scale AI data centers are very useful test customers for novel energy technologies, and am particularly excited to see the fusion (pun intended!) of AI energy demand and nuclear technologies in the future. More broadly, I think “economic security is national security,” so making sure we have the infrastructure in place to build out the AI economy will have knock-on positive effects on our industrial base and overall robustness.

More on the participants:

• is a former hedge fund manager and writer who publishes investment analysis and market commentary on his Substack, . He is best known for predicting the subprime mortgage crisis, as depicted in The Big Short, and has more recently voiced skepticism about AI-driven market exuberance.

• is the co-founder and head of policy at Anthropic, where he works on AI safety, governance, and the societal implications of frontier models. He also writes Import AI, a long-running newsletter analyzing advances in artificial intelligence, state power, and technological risk.

• is the founder and host of the , where he interviews leading thinkers on AI, economics, and scientific progress. He also publishes essays and interviews on his Substack, focusing on long-term technological trajectories, AI alignment, and civilizational risk.

• is a writer and software entrepreneur best known for his newsletter Bits About Money, where he explains finance, markets, and institutions. He also hosts the Complex Systems podcast and has previously worked in tech and payments, including at Stripe.

  

No doubt you’ve seen your share of gift guides already, but if you’ve run out the clock and are still searching for the perfect thing, we’re here to help. There are plenty of reasons why a subscription makes a great gift—but at this point, the most salient one is that it’s guaranteed to arrive on time.

To help you explore beyond the bounds of your own inbox, we reached out to a few well-read Substackers and asked them to share their favorite subscriptions. We’ve organized their picks around the kind of last-minute gift you might otherwise grab on your way out the door. These Substacks are better.

Instead of an expensive candle, get them…

of Broke but Moisturized, “a slice of life newsletter on beauty and aging, dispatched from American suburbia,” recommends . “It’s like being part of a secret society of people who use salt crystals as deodorant and roast themselves in sauna blankets and have astrologers on speed dial.”

, the cultural commentator and fashion columnist behind , is pulling for ’s . “In a sea of 2s and 3s, Max is—and will always be, quite frankly—the 1. He’s sharp, incisive, aware, prescient, evocative. He knows his shit and he knows how to write about it, two separate skill sets that Venn diagram so perfectly in this newsletter that is honestly a ‘can’t miss’ for me. I feel lucky to have Max’s writing to look forward to each week.”

James Beard Award–winning cookbook author of the tailors her recommendation to well-dressed travelers: “ has exquisite taste in just about everything. Her Substack is chockablock with her takes on places to go, places to stay and eat and see when you get there, people to know about, and, yes, fashion.”

As the editor of SSENSE and the writer behind , a health and wellness newsletter, has several recommendations. “I love a few of the big fashion Substacks, like and ’s The Molehill,” he told us, “but a semi slept-on newsletter that I’ve been loving this year is ’s The Bengal Stripe, which brings a thoughtful, non-snarky approach to menswear coverage that isn’t just recycled advice from a 2012 issue of GQ. To my mind, he’s one of the best-dressed guys anywhere: a curious and genuine enthusiast in a space where clothes are often treated as trends and are, at least by that logic, rendered disposable.”

Journalist, podcaster, and writer of culture newsletter has just the thing for thrifters: by . “Nora does the hard work of sifting through pages and pages of eBay search results on your behalf, assembling a tightly curated list of things you will absolutely want to buy. Plus, I always leave her newsletter with some great ideas for new keywords to search to find hidden gems.”

And , the journalist and writer behind Read Max, offers stylish readers a twist. “ ’s is about furniture, and sometimes also raw milk.”

Instead of a desk tchotchke, get them…

For the friend who doesn’t need more stuff—but does love to obsess—these picks skew pleasantly niche.

, the writer behind , a newsletter devoted to innovation and delight, has a pick specifically for fans of New York: “For my friends in NYC (or who just happen to love it) I’d gift ’s The Neighborhoods. Every week, Rob, a terrific writer and photographer, profiles a different section of the city based on his own quirky sensibilities. It’s reliably funny and fascinating.”

She doesn’t ignore those beyond the five boroughs, either: “For everyone else, I’d gift ’s , a delightful deep dive into the quotidian. Some of my favorite past issues were dedicated to security envelope patterns, spatula design, prescription labels and the history of binder clips. So much fun!”

writes Experimental History, a narrative examination of people, data, and science, and recommends . “Great historians uncover how history is far stranger and more interesting than we ever expect. Anton Howes is a great historian.” He also suggests The Egg and the Rock by : “This guy wrote the Minecraft End Poem and now he’s rewriting the history of the universe. It’s the most interesting scientific work happening on Substack right now, and I have no idea how it’s going to turn out.”

And several writers turned to the past. Talía Cu recommends for the budding collector. “ has the most beautiful vintage brooch collection!” Max Read took a nostalgic view. “There are thousands of newsletters about AI and only one (as far as I know) about old Sony gadgets.” He and Kyla Scanlon both also recommend , a Substack that offers exactly what the name promises. “What else do you need to know?” Max asks.

And Emily Kirkpatrick looks to the entertainment of yore. “Give the pop culture know-it-all in your life a crash course in the sacred texts of Y2K with a subscription to Nicstalgia. Whether you’re looking for a pop-culture history lesson or are a millennial who just wants to have their memory viciously jogged, is a masterful curator of these early internet archives.”

Instead of branded olive oil, get them…

Dorie Greenspan recommends a classic: ’s . “Anyone who loves food and great writing will appreciate it. Ruth’s career in food is long and splendid, and luckily for us, she’s saved endless memorabilia, including dreamy menus, and she remembers all the delicious details.”

Emily Kirkpatrick is also in it for the story, which is why she recommends Eat Your Feelings by . “A lot of newsletters will give you a recipe. But how many newsletters will give you a recipe alongside a story about a threesome and some heartwarming marital advice? That’s the beauty of Eat Your Feelings.”

Both Kyla Scanlon and Max Read recommend a boozy favorite: James Beard Award–winning author ’s . Max recommends it for “the cocktail recipes and liquor recommendations, but especially for the yearly three-part gift guide, which alerts me to all kinds of mail-order American cheese and candy treasures and which I refer to year-round for thank-you presents.” (We have chosen to overlook this brazen gift guide Trojan horse.)

Talía Cu, a fashion journalist, educator, and illustrator who writes Latin Zine by Talia Cu, recommends by , “a wonderful archive for learning how to make Mexican conchas or fermented tacos, created by a sourdough expert.”

, the author and illustrator behind ¡Hola Papi!, a Substack that dissects culture, has a rec for the friend who loves to eat out but is trying to cook more in the new year. “The Secret Ingredient is my foodstack go-to, for one reason: has great taste in restaurants, and his recipes are often copycats of those restaurants’ best dishes. For example, the squash bread at San Francisco’s Quince, which I would like delivered to my home weekly but, sadly, cannot afford to do so (yet). If you’re a foodie, you’ll probably see one of your favorite restaurants on his page and, if you’re lucky, a recipe for your favorite menu item.”

Instead of a celeb memoir, get them…

John Paul Brammer is a fan of . “For me, when it comes to pop culture, there is only Hunter Harris at . I wish I had some undiscovered gem to include here, but Hunter is the only source I need on this front. It’s like she knows what I want to talk about before I even know what I want to talk about, like Lily Allen’s ‘West End Girl,’ aka ‘Innit Lemonade.’ Keep an eye on this young woman, I think her Substack’s going places!”

Chris Gayomali recommends by . “Deez Links is where I get 69% of my news these days, unfortunately. Delia is one of those twisted geniuses whose brain never seems to get scrambled even as she’s scraping from the most rat-infested corners of the internet. Her ability to neatly synthesize all these disparate threads about people I often find noxious is a gift that I would not wish on anyone.”

Talía Cu recommends , for “all things pop culture, delivered with a snarky and witty perspective.” Meanwhile, for Max Read, “no one is a better or funnier gossip columnist than [of Gossip Time].”

Dorie Greenspan recommends turning to an expert. “’s is definitely the Substack for this obsessive. The force behind bringing Vanity Fair back to life and shaking up The New Yorker, Brown is supersmart, fearless, and a terrific writer. Fresh Hell covers politics and news, but also pop culture and, well, everything that catches her eye and tickles her brain. Brown could write about watching paint dry and I’d want to read her.” Emily Kirkpatrick agrees: “ has a way of delivering the news that makes you feel like a close friend just called to dish up some hot gossip.”

Instead of an airport bestseller, get them…

Skip the book they’ve probably already read. These recommendations run the gamut from the analytical to the literary, but all are opinionated, rigorous, and thoughtful.

, who writes , a newsletter about politics, tech, culture, and media, recommends : “It began as primarily a literature review magazine but is evolving to become a veritable general culture magazine. As editor-in-chief has said, a person can have only so many paid subscriptions; why not make one of them a publication that gives you many writers, some world-renowned, some up-and-coming like the Miami miracle ?”

writes the Substack and translates ancient Chinese poetry in . He recommends by : “A charming, no-pressure newsletter where you get to read great books with Robert. I love how he keeps it casual but not shallow.”

For those interested in economic history, Max Read recommends ’s for a “thorough and approachable review of economic history texts. His overview of the medieval-history scholar Chris Wickham’s body of work (and the larger arguments and issues through which Wickham was working) this year was a model of accessible academic writing.”

Kyla Scanlon recommends , of . “Joey covers macroeconomics with exceptional clarity, and his charts are a work of art. His ability to make complex trends feel understandable and grounded in real-world dynamics is absolutely one of a kind.”

Chris Gayomali recommends going straight to the source: subscribing to a novelist. “I’m such an unapologetic fanboy, but she really is one of the best essayists of our generation. I love how her Substack is a glimpse into a slightly more unhinged (lol) and bloggy version of her print writing: sometimes she’ll bowl you over with a sentence so perfect and nasty in its zags that it feels like a brush with God.”

Emily Kirkpatrick turns to the experts: “ is my love, my life. They have literally never led me astray when it comes to choosing what book I want to read next. Their selections have introduced me to so many books I wouldn’t have read otherwise, and every time I am blown away by the quality of storytelling.”

Max Read and Kyla Scanlon, ever in sync, chose to turn up the charm. They both recommend , where “ and , two of North America’s finest picture book authors, [are] doing wonderful critical reads of their favorite picture books.”

And John Paul Brammer recommends . “You’re gonna want to trust me on this. If you’re looking for book recs you won’t find anywhere else, seek out Harold. He’s criminally underfollowed, but the dude reads. I don’t know where he finds the time to read as much as he does, but when he posts a book rec, I buy that book. Like with Schattenfroh, a recent English translation of a titanic, ambitious German novel that could serve as a blunt weapon in an emergency.”

How to gift a paid subscription

Happy holidays, and may your procrastination go unnoticed into the new year.

Substack Notes has been around for two and a half years now, and the feed is beginning to resemble a thriving jungle—alive with fascinating creatures who each play a vital role in the ecosystem, helping one another grow and evolve.

To celebrate everything that’s blooming on Notes, we’ve put together a little field guide to the many species of posters you’ll encounter. This isn’t meant to be comprehensive; think of it as a snapshot of the landscape, with a focus on art, culture, and humor—the subjects we suspect most readers of The Substack Post find irresistible.

The Shitposters Satirical Social Commentators

In a since-deleted note, anonymous poster asked her followers to stop referring to her as a shitposter. Whatever you call LL and her contemporaries, every good place on the internet needs them.

blesses our feed with a mix of lighthearted humor and biting criticism.

Fashion investigator is believably optimistic about all sorts of things.

(yes, it’s her real name; no relation to Dua Lipa) fires off observational missives about her life and times.

See also: donald boat, harry, Shaiyan, caleb hearon, evanie laurent, tom, danielle, Mackenzie Thomas, M.E. Rothwell, Philip Traylen, Paul Staples, Emma Newman-Holden, Ziwe

The Tumblr Diaspora

These posters bring the ~aesthetic~ energy to Notes. They make excellent use of the photo gallery feature, devising clever themes around beautiful images.

frequently shares photos from runway shows past.

collects photos of “living women artists you should know.”

shares old and new editorial campaigns from fashion magazines and advertisements.

See also: Rose Florence, Elsie Morales, surrealist covens, Lauren Sands, Kate McBride, LoLo, Nick Struutinsky, Kayla Roolart, Alana Fallon, Gabriella Karefa-Johnson

The Literary Crowd

There are a ton of readers and writers on Substack, but these posters are the ones building a new literary scene. They’re starting magazines, sharing thoughts on literary gossip du jour, hyping other writers’ work; in other words, they’re turning Substack into a modern-day literary salon.

When isn’t writing an ode to Proust or a modern history of AI, she’s closely reading other writers on Substack and sharing their work with thoughtful recommendations.

As the editor of The Metropolitan Review, has played a key role in showcasing the literary bona fides of Substackers.

A generous reader and writer, recommends the Great Books and great posts with equal verve.

See also: Alexander Sorondo, Sam Kahn, Henry Begler

The Young and Newyorkish

These are the journalists who live in New York and either write for mainstream media outlets or used to write for them. Ignore Hamish’s shade—they keep us apprised of what’s happening, share updates on the media scandals of the day, and, yes, let us know what’s cool.

asks the hard questions.

weighs in on the latest media industry gossip making the rounds.

has joined the dark side.

See also: Danya Issawi, Delia Cai, J Wortham, Chris Gayomali, Mary H.K. Choi, Rachel Seville Tashjian, JP Brammer, Molly Young

The Artists

It turns out that some of you can paint, sketch, design, knit, sew, and do all other manner of art-making.

illustrates the everyday.

is always creating something.

is knitting up a storm.

See also: Erika Lee Sears, Manu Montoya, Asher Perlman, Liana Finck, Jason Chatfield, Eliza Brooke, Tala Rae Schlossberg, Harry Stooshinoff, Janet Asante Sullivan

Pamela Anderson

Did you know is on Substack?

The Memelords

I don’t know if they make the memes themselves. I don’t care. We need more memes on Substack. Thank you to these posters.

The Cats

This is still God’s internet after all.

gets inside Nini’s mind.

shares an endlessly amusing stream of found cat photos.

is a cat seemingly posting photos of … herself?

Have a favorite Notes poster? Let us know in the comments.

Alexis Coe: Yesterday in Utah, Charlie Kirk began to answer a question on gun violence when he was silenced by it. A single round cut short a public debate and turned it into a political assassination.

Sean Spicer: I could talk about the insanity that this was allowed to happen; that it’s taken over 24 hours to find the culprit; the disgraceful coverage by the media; the despicable comments making the rounds on social media. But the sad truth is that none of that will bring him back.

Andrew Egger: The summer of 2025 had already been a season of alarming political violence—the May killing of two young employees of Israel’s D.C. embassy, the June shooting of two Minnesota state lawmakers and their families, the firebombing of a pro-Israel march in Colorado, the August shooting at the Centers for Disease Control.

Ross Barkan: I do have a suspicion, yet to be confirmed, that we are exiting the mass shooting era and returning to the kinds of high-profile, individuated assassinations that defined so much of the last century. There have been so many mass shootings, especially at schools, that a killer can’t find much notoriety anymore. We collectively remember Adam Lanza, Elliot Rodger, and James Holmes, or maybe the Columbine kids, but Salvador Ramos, who murdered nineteen students and two teachers at Uvalde, draws a blank. Luigi Mangione, of course, is now globally famous, and he only needed to kill one person who was not famous at all.

Prospect Magazine: [P]olitical violence is hardly new (particularly in America), but a distinctive variety has emerged: “stochastic” violence, defined by the “general and vague encouragement” of violence via social media and other networks. Individuals who were radicalised online were responsible for the killings of political figures including Jo Cox and Minnesota politician Melissa Hortman.

Andrew Egger: The reactions [to Kirk’s murder] played out online much as you’d expect. Horrified leaders of both parties issued statements condemning political violence and issuing condolences to Kirk’s family. Below that seethed the eternal, inescapable culture war, each side excoriating the other. It barely mattered how representative of their broader political cohorts these posters were; every American’s social-media algorithms made sure they got to see whichever ones would make them maddest.

Noah Smith: On anonymous platforms like X and Bluesky, the marginal cost of calling anyone and everyone a Nazi is zero, so everyone calls everyone a Nazi. And malignant trolls get attention and status by whipping up fear and extremism. Of course, rightists do this too. The result is a constant toxic mix of alarmism and extremism, no matter where you sit on the political spectrum.

Andrew Egger: The same fight, too, could be seen on cable news.

Aaron Everitt: When debate is silenced, it does something unnatural to the human experience. When that debate is silenced because of violence, it feels even more disjointed from the human experience.

Alexis Coe: Already, Americans speak casually of “civil war,” march in armed rallies, and wink at political violence as if it were just another tactic.

Noah Smith: I still think the probability of an actual American civil war is relatively low, but if it does happen, it won’t be rifle battles in an empty field like last time—it’ll be more like the Spanish Civil War, with neighbors fighting neighbors, rampant atrocities on both sides, and the nation impoverished for many years.

Alexis Coe: Political violence, [George Washington] warned, does not start with mobs or bayonets. It begins with citizens who come to see those with different views as enemies—encouraged by parties who mistake retribution as rule. In his “Farewell Address,” Washington warned, “The alternate domination of one faction over another, sharpened by the spirit of revenge, natural to party dissension. . .is itself a frightful despotism.”

Dan Pfeiffer: Democracy cannot function if people can’t participate in the political process without fear of violence. Political violence begets more violence, as more and more people seek retribution. This is when the system collapses and people begin to lose their rights and freedoms.

Jeff Maurer: [A]nyone who values the hard-earned progress that humanity has made separating political power from physical power should view this as a tragedy on a human and a societal level.

Matthew Continetti: The fact that Kirk was killed on a college campus is grimly symbolic.

Angel Eduardo: The data is grim. More college students than ever believe that, at least in some rare circumstances, it can be acceptable for their peers to engage in violence to stop speech they don’t like. This is extremely troubling, because violence in response to speech is how our culture of free expression—and the civil society it creates—begins to crumble completely. When it comes to violence, even “rarely” is too often.

Jeff Maurer: Kirk was prominent because large numbers of people wanted to hear what he had to say, but he’s been removed by someone who feels that they should have the power to dictate the content of our national dialogue. And, sadly, they do have that power—the shooter just used violence to make a decision that we all now have to live with. We’re subject to the whims of someone willing to use violence to achieve their goals, just like when brigands were stealing our sad little peasant pot and shoe.

Andrew Egger: I don’t know what we can do to avoid this fate. All I know is what I can do. And what I can do starts with the acknowledgment that, while Charlie Kirk may have been an ideological opponent, he wasn’t my enemy. My enemy—an enemy I share with many who would call themselves my enemy—is the person who shot him, and anyone else who would reach for violence as a means to a political end.

Jeremiah Johnson (quoted by Andrew Egger): As much as you can, resist the hysteria. Refuse to participate in it, refuse to make the polarization worse. The purpose of liberalism is to allow us to disagree with someone without discriminating against them, without harassing them, without killing them. It’s a precious thing, perhaps the most precious thing our civilization has achieved. Every time you break bread in peace with an outsider, every time a Catholic and Protestant shake hands, it’s a miracle. Don’t take it for granted.

Helen Pluckrose: The task before us is simple, but not easy. We must be both angry and saddened at the taking of a man’s life without making him a token. We must reject political violence consistently without resorting to tribalism. We must defend, without compromise, the principle that every human being has the right to speak without fear of death. If we can do this—on the left, on the right, and in the centre—we affirm both the freedoms and the humanity of those with whom we disagree and of those with whom we agree and the liberty that must endure for us all.

Newt Gingrich: Democrats and Republicans must engage in common dialogue. We should emulate Kirk’s passion for reaching out to people with different viewpoints to talk about ideas. Whenever possible, Democrats and Republicans should launch debates and dialogues built around real issues and values disagreements.

Matthew Continetti: The murder of Charlie Kirk could yet serve as a turning point. It could be an occasion for Americans to step away from the abyss and recover the moral clarity and habits of heart that sustain a republic. But if we fail—if the moment passes, if the tit for tat escalates, if we retreat from the public square into our private redoubts—then the abyss won’t recede. It will widen. And America will be one step closer to the edge.

August is a terrible month. For those who love summer, it’s the beginning of the end—like late-afternoon sunshine, the heat is a dirty trick distracting you from the lengthening shadows. For those who hate the season, August is one more interminable month of sweat and stickiness. (And for those in the Southern Hemisphere, it’s yet another chance for people in the north to wax poetic about the wrong season.)

But we are determined to make the best of it. Summer is only three months, after all, and it would be foolish to write off a third of it. So we’ll eat the stone fruit. We’ll read the books on the beach. We’ll wear the flip-flops, god help us. These Substackers show the way.

Art

Summer can be lovely, yes, but it is also a time of fires and floods and fog. On the days when summer isn’t really summering, here are some works of art that remind us what the season should feel like.

Clockwise from top left: art by Madeleine Gross, shared by Luz; painting by Wayne Thiebaud, shared by Lauren Sands; photo of David Hockney’s house, shared by Rose Florence; Greece on film, by Chris Mongeau; “7ft 0in,” by Hilary Pecis, shared by Katy Hessel

Movies

It’s a classic summer at the movies: you have your pick between dinosaurs, superheroes, and fast cars. And sure, you could be cynical about these films—the warmed-over storylines, the heedless adrenaline rushes, the shameless cash grabs. But allow us to mount a gentle defense. The summer blockbuster is good, actually. Like so many of summer’s joys, its pleasures harken back to simpler times, when we weren’t concerned with the economics of a theatrical release and had never heard of “IP.” So go ahead, slip into the air-conditioned theater. Get the novelty popcorn bucket. See the trailers for the seven other blockbusters. Watch the big, loud movie. Who knows—you might even be pleasantly surprised.

Music

Another point in summer’s plus column: There is no “song of the autumn.” Meanwhile, “every summer has a soundtrack by which it is preserved, and endures, in memory; the association of a song with its particular summer can outlast countless subsequent listenings at other seasons, in later years,” as writes in The Complete Works of Summer.

We don’t have any “Espresso”-level hits this year, but that gives us room for a more customized experience. invite you to fill in the blank in Which ______ summer are you having? ’s Summer Fridays Radio features “the sounds of Sardinia, Ibiza, and the soundtrack to your summer.” And in ’s aforementioned post, he shares playlists by year. Here’s what he was listening to in 2000:

Fashion

of unpacks our now years-long summer obsession with Mediterranean style. extols the benefits of the little white dress, as does . recommends having an outfit of the summer to rewear all season long. At Rabbit Fur Coat, details the charms of vintage Florida T-shirts.

And because Substack is a place where we celebrate free speech, we’ll even let try to sell you on it being The Summer of the Flip-Flop. “They’re fun. A little trashy. Slightly tongue-in-cheek. They toe the line (sorry) between style and satire. When you see someone in flip-flops, you don’t know if they’re deep into the Olsen cinematic universe, obsessed with Auralee because it’s this underground cool brand—or if it’s just hot out and these were by the door.”

Food

Summer eating is a study in contrasts. You might be crafting fresh, beautiful salads with your bounty of homegrown heirloom tomatoes—or you might be chowing down on a fairground chili dog. There’s a little something for everyone.

Ruth Reichl has meals for hot weather, from sour cherry lemonade to a fresh corn salad. Sarah Stanback-Young offers an easy-breezy three-course lunch menu. Caroline Chambers recommends a salad filled with the best of summer produce. Samin Nosrat shares an “un-recipe” of grilled flatbread with ricotta and tomatoes for your next cookout. And for dessert, look to fruit. Flora Manson’s lovely summer cherry pie and The Grubworks Kitchen’s peach cobbler are great places to start.

Reads

In what Naomi Kanakia dubbed Substack Summer, writers including Ross Barkan, John Pistelli, Daniel Saldaña París, Lincoln Michel, Stuart Pennebaker and Emma Gannon, among others, have new books out. Collegeville Letters went on a quest for “vivid summer reading”—writing that transcends the summer “cliches of nostalgia, melting popsicles, unsustainable romance, Coppertone”—and collected some excellent specimens. Catherine Lacey has advocated for a Substack-wide reading of Iris Murdoch’s The Sea, The Sea. And over at Fresh Hell, Tina Brown suggests a sexy historical biography of—incredible vocab here—“famed political horizontale Pamela Harriman.”

Finally, we’ll leave you with Alex Dimitrov’s poem, an appropriately bittersweet ode to summer.

French Kissing in the USA

Text within this block will maintain its original spacing when published

One more time. 
One more summer.
The grass under you.
The pink cherry stains.
Someone takes you out.
Someone shows you their gun.
A firework goes off.
The blue boys
swim the lake.
So much blood in the body.
So much salt on the skin.
Like it’s being prepared for something. 
Like a mouth fills with fizz.
The sharp sugar of it.
Your black jeans. The red cars. 
Where you learn to lie down.
Where you pick the right guns. 
And the highways are warm.
And our bodies—
where will they fit in the Earth? 
Under the football fields maybe.
What will they be after August?
Strip malls paved over the heart.
Hearts and kisses.
Kisses and hearts. 
You better stay strong for it, angel.
One of these mornings
everything will be taken away.

Keep reading

Wimbledon is here, hot on the heels of Roland Garros and in the midst of what’s become a grueling year-round tennis season. With the finals looming this weekend, we looked to Substackers—a former tour pro, expert reporters, and the girlfriend of a current semi-finalist among them—for what to watch in the final stretch.

The context

Madeline Vogt: It’s the third Grand Slam of the year—Wimbledon, famously played on the meticulously-mowed grass courts of the All-England Club in London. This tournament is famous for its strawberries and cream served on the grounds, mandatory white tennis clothing, and a crowd so hushed between points that I often have to check that my ESPN stream didn’t freeze.

Andrea Petkovic: [Wimbledon isn’t] just any major, no, it’s the most prestigious of all. It’s the one everyone wants.

Morgan Riddle: Wimbledon is the oldest running tennis tournament in history, first organized in 1876. As someone who has been to a lot of events, the best way I can describe it is that it is simply magical and there is no other sporting event on earth quite like it.

The experience

Morgan Riddle: The tournament is named after the charming little town of Wimbledon where the games first began. In the weeks leading up to first round, it sort of looks like a big green tennis monster threw up all over the streets and every storefront, restaurant, and pub in the town is covered in turf, tennis balls, strawberries, and rackets.

Jessica Anne: Seriously, what could top it? The smell of freshly cut grass, a Pimm’s in hand, strawberries and cream, (hopefully) some sunshine, a bit of celeb-spotting, and of course some epic tennis.

Joe Levin: The famed Pimm’s Cup was £10. Strawberries and cream (with generous servings and from a local farm) were £2. In areas that would only be attended by patrons with GA grounds passes, there were still wooden benches, shade, free water. You could bring in your own food and drink. The staff was friendly and helpful. Was it any surprise that everybody was in such a good mood?

Morgan Riddle: A word of caution that [Pimm’s cups] don’t taste like much but they will sneak up on you. I’ve had the pleasure of witnessing a lot of stumblers when leaving the grounds late at night.

Andrea Petkovic: While I ponder over milk in tea, sneeze from the freshly cut grass in the air and try my hardest not to mention strawberries and cream, players are getting ready to snatch the most important trophy of all and maybe marry a royal while they’re at it.

Hailey Grohman: Wimbledon, despite its satisfyingly crisp lawn lines, has kind of an off-putting colonize-y vibe to me. Why does everything have to be white? Why do we have to eat cream when it’s hot out?

The matches

Video shared by Hugh Clarke

Ben Lewis: To call it a surprising opening week at the All England Club hardly does justice to the carnage we’ve witnessed across both the men’s and women’s singles draws in London.

Madeline Vogt: Unlike Roland Garros, which followed predictions to absolute perfection, with both the women’s and men’s no. 1 and no. 2 players facing off in the finals, this year’s Wimbledon is messy. But this kind of carnage feels necessary for a good season of professional tennis, in my opinion— kind of like a controlled prairie burn.

Ben Lewis: By the end of action last Thursday evening, 36 seeded players had been knocked out of the Wimbledon Championships. By the end of Day 7, just one top five player remains in the women’s field (Aryna Sabalenka), while two top five men’s players are gone (Alexander Zverev, Jack Draper), and half of the top 10 have been knocked out.

Tennis Sweet Spot: The main storyline here is to see if Carlos Alcaraz and Jannik Sinner will meet again after their epic Roland-Garros final.

Jonathan Kronstadt: Carlos Alcaraz and Jannik Sinner battled on red clay for 5 ½ hours in a French Open final that many, myself included, think is the single greatest tennis match ever played. It’s entirely possible they’ll meet again in the July 12 Wimbledon final.

Tennis World Live: The 22-year-old Alcaraz will be aiming for a third consecutive Wimbledon crown. However, he may once again run into the Serb in the final—and who knows, this could be the year Djokovic exacts his revenge and finally equals Federer’s record at the All England Club.

Ben Rothenberg: Even at 38, seven-time Wimbledon champion Djokovic surely remains the most daunting of the 5-8 seeds in the draw.

Madeline Vogt: In the upcoming week, I’ll be champing at the bit to see who can hack it. How far can Novak Djokovic go? Can he beat Jannik Sinner? Could he beat Carlos Alcaraz after that?

Malaika: Amanda Anisimova delivered a stunning performance to defeat World No. 1 Aryna Sabalenka in a tightly contested Wimbledon semi-final.

Areyah DCosta: A 100% deserved win for Anisimova. She was courageous on the big points and kept Sabalenka under pressure almost throughout the match.

Malaika: The stage is set for the Wimbledon Women's Final. Amanda Anisimova will face Iga Swiatek, with both players aiming to capture their first Wimbledon title.

Merlisa Lawrence Corbett: It’s the first Grand Slam final for Anisimova. It’s the first Wimbledon final for Swiatek, who has five Major titles, the most of any active player. It’s a clash of contrast: a big hitter against an aggressive baseliner. Amanda’s flat ball against Iga’s topspin.

Malaika: It all comes down to Saturday, 12th July.

So, who will win?

Andrea Petkovic: Carlos Alcaraz, all the way in the bottom on the other end of the draw, is probably the number one favourite as the title defender and logical clay court and grass court specialist in one (seriously, how does he do it? Talent helps I guess).

Tennis Sweet Spot: If there’s still one place [Djokovic] could get Alcaraz or Sinner, it’s on Centre Court…If he gets a good draw and lands fresh in that second week, watch out.

Ben Lewis: Djokovic may bend (quite literally), but you’ll never hear a snap.

Andrea Petkovic: [Djokovic] functions under pressure and knows Center Court better than any other active player. He has that firmness in his eyes again that I’ve known for a long time and that is always a dead give-away of where his ambitions lie: In winning.

Tennis Sweet Spot: If there’s one thing I’ve kept from all my years alongside tennis champions, it’s that they often come back to their best at unexpected moments. So, why not imagine Iga Swiatek rising from the ashes of these Roland-Garros semifinals to win her first Wimbledon title? Yes, on the surface, she had the least convincing results as a pro. Don’t forget she won the title in juniors… Just saying!

Andrea Petkovic: During 2 matches in Bad Homburg, a falcon or a hawk or an eagle (I’m clearly not an ornithologist) was circling above Iga Swiatek’s head for minutes on end. Those who have followed me for awhile know that my toxic trait is that I believe in witchcraft and superstitions. I believe that the falcon, let’s say it was a falcon, was a sign that Iga will win Wimbledon. I actually also thought she played great in Bad Homburg so it’s not only the falcon. But the falcon definitely helps.

Madeline Vogt: I will be plenty satisfied just listening to the echo of tennis balls hitting strings and the soft carpet slide of grass under the players’ shoes.

This weekend, Democratic voters in New York City will begin casting early ballots for their party’s mayoral primary. Since New York is overwhelmingly liberal, the winner will probably end up mayor of America’s largest city. The victor will command the nation’s most well-funded police and education departments—and a prominent bully pulpit, as President Trump continues to publicly clash with Democratic mayors across the country.

The mayor of New York is an instant celebrity. The post, as always, has no shortage of aspirants. But this year’s race is an especially weird one.

The candidates

Eric Adams

The incumbent, Eric Adams, is a Democrat—but he’s not running in the Democratic primary. Instead, he’s filed as an Independent, opting to compete in the general election against both Republican candidate Curtis Sliwa and whoever wins the Democratic race.

It’s not hard to see why: Adams is extremely unpopular. Indicted on corruption charges last year and beset by scandals, Adams drew close to Donald Trump and was rewarded when Trump’s Justice Department dropped the charges initially brought by a Biden-appointed prosecutor. Though Adams may have avoided prison, his political fortunes have dimmed. Democrats are done with him, and he’s a long shot for the November election.

Andrew Cuomo

The favorite to replace Adams is another scandal-scarred executive: Andrew Cuomo. The former governor of New York resigned in 2021 after he was accused of sexual harassment by nearly a dozen women. (Cuomo denied the charges.) Now he’s seeking redemption—and a new job.

The polls show Cuomo with a strong lead, thanks to superior name recognition and voters’ desire for executive experience. He was widely celebrated for steering New York through the pandemic, though his administration was later accused of undercounting deaths in Covid-ravaged nursing homes. (He also took a $5 million advance to write a Covid memoir in 2020, as thousands of New Yorkers were still dying.) Trump’s DOJ has since opened an investigation into Cuomo for allegedly lying to Republicans in Congress during testimony about his pandemic response.

Despite these attacks, Cuomo’s standing remains firm. He’s backed by major unions and prominent politicians, and a super PAC supporting him—funded by business titans like Barry Diller and Bill Ackman—has raised $10 million so far, dwarfing rival efforts. Cuomo has campaigned on backing the police, supporting Israel—an appeal to the many Jewish voters in New York—and fixing a city he claims has spun out of control under Adams. Though the overall economic indicators of New York are strong, and violent crime is on a steep decline from its pandemic-era peak (in 2025, the city is on pace for the fewest murders in its recorded history), many New Yorkers are still wary of crime and concerned about the future. Housing is increasingly unaffordable and homelessness is a persistent challenge. Cuomo believes he’s the man to fix it all.

Zohran Mamdani

Cuomo’s top challenger is state assemblyman Zohran Mamdani. Whereas Cuomo is a highly experienced moderate (or even conservative) Democrat, Mamdani is a 33-year-old democratic socialist who won his first race in 2020. Mamdani began the primary last fall polling at the bottom but surged into second place earlier in the year, gaining popularity on social media and enlivening younger voters with his support for freezing rents on rent-stabilized apartments (which make up half the city’s rental stock), making buses free, and implementing universal child care.

If elected, Mamdani would be New York’s first Muslim and South Asian mayor. His natural charisma has attracted a genuine fan base, and he recently won a high-profile endorsement from Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez.

Cuomo has taken aim at Mamdani for his past support of defunding the police and his outspoken advocacy for Palestinians. (Mamdani supports the BDS movement and has previously identified as an anti-Zionist.) Mamdani has fired back, casting Cuomo as the status quo candidate, and has promised to fight antisemitism in New York.

Adrienne Adams, Brad Lander, and Scott Stringer

While Cuomo and Mamdani are the front-runners, New York’s ranked-choice voting system could make the race competitive for three other candidates polling in the single digits: City Council Speaker Adrienne Adams, City Comptroller Brad Lander, and former City Comptroller Scott Stringer. None of them have especially excited voters, but all represent a center-left constituency that could be key in this election. All three are veterans of city government, and all three have been aggressive Cuomo critics. Given how many voters are unenthused about Cuomo but concerned about Mamdani’s lack of experience, this middle lane may be well-positioned to pick up second- and third-choice votes.

Under New York’s ranked-choice system, voters can choose up to five candidates in order of preference. If no one wins an outright majority, the candidate with the fewest votes is eliminated and those ballots are redistributed to voters’ next choices; the process continues until one candidate crosses 50%. This style of voting rewards candidates who appear on more voters’ ballots, form alliances, and are generally less polarizing. And Cuomo is polarizing—though if he runs strongly enough, it won’t matter.

Of the lower-polling candidates, Adrienne Adams (of no relation to the mayor) may have the best chance to rise. She represents Black middle-class neighborhoods in Queens where Cuomo is also popular, and has the potential to appeal to moderates and progressives alike. And she is backed by Letitia James, the popular attorney general. Adams’s challenge is getting her name out there: she entered the race late, in March, and has only just qualified for the city’s public matching funds system. In contrast, Mamdani has been campaigning since October, and Cuomo has long been a familiar face for New Yorkers.

When will we know?

The election will be held on June 24, but the race may not be settled that day—the Board of Elections could take several weeks to tabulate the ranked votes. Four years ago, Eric Adams finished well ahead of the field but nearly lost once the ranked-choice tabulation began; he won by fewer than 10,000 votes as other candidates were eliminated.

Cuomo has the best chance to triumph, but the race is still open. And depending on what happens in the primary, the general election could become surprisingly competitive. Cuomo has already filed to run as an Independent in the event that someone like Mamdani wins the Democratic nomination. Meanwhile, the progressive Working Families Party could support Mamdani or another candidate against Cuomo if he wins the primary, assuming his victory is narrow.

In short: it should be an interesting summer.

Editor’s note: For more on the NYC mayoral race, see:

• for wide-ranging, in-depth interviews with the candidates

• for analysis of ranked-choice voting (Can anyone beat Cuomo? And is it Zohran?)

• for reader-sourced questions on topics both substantial (What are your plans to keep New York affordable for the working class?) and fun (Best slice in the city?)

• for out-of-left-field analysis of the candidates (Ranking Mayoral Candidates on Real Estate Alone) and lightning round interviews

• for opinionated hot takes (The New York Mayor’s Race Sucks)
  

Graduation has always marked a transition from one phase of life to another, but rarely have new graduates stepped into a world where everything else seems to be in transition, too. The economy, media, politics, art, technology—there’s a lot of uncertainty about what the future holds.

We reached out to a broad cross-section of writers, creators, philosophers, artists, and technologists on Substack to share their hard-won wisdom with the Class of 2025.

“Shoot first, aim later”

One thing nearly all of our contributors agreed on: it’s time to reconsider the old playbooks of success.

Cultural critic Ted Gioia of had some stark advice for college students: leave. “If you haven’t graduated yet, there’s still time to drop out of college. Don’t laugh—the most successful people from many colleges are the dropouts. Maybe you should leave campus before they hand you that diploma.”

But if you’ve already crossed the commencement stage, all is not lost. “You will have other chances to rebel in the days to come. And rebellion really is your best long-term strategy. So don’t work for the system—work outside the system. Don’t follow the rules—create better rules.”

Kareem Rahma, the creator of Subway Takes and , echoes the DIY ethos. “Shoot first, aim later. Especially if you’re trying to break into entertainment. If you’re not out there generating your own ideas and executing them, you’ll be stuck waiting forever for someone to hand you an opportunity that may never come. You’ve gotta make your own. Do not wait! Write the script. Make the movie. Start the podcast. Whatever it is—just start.”

Ross Barkan, the author of and editor in chief of , recommends writers strike out on their own. “Start a newsletter and write in your own voice. Find a niche relatively few people are writing about or follow your greatest passion—better if there’s an overlap. Build your own audience methodically by publishing every month or, if possible, every week.” Not giving up is key, as is embracing rejection. “Every publication I’ve written for has also rejected me. Rejections are part of the hustle. You’ll succeed if you stay in the fight.”

“Pivot, pivot, and pivot again”

The “career ladder” is an anachronism, like horse-drawn carriages and phone calls. But there’s a freedom in that. “Prior generations were trapped by a rigid blueprint of success or tortured by its lack of achievability, but we had a blueprint,” said writer and philosopher Laura Kennedy of . “You don’t. That's frightening and lonely. But in the midst of this unravelling of our conception of how things work and where we’re collectively headed, what you get—you uniquely—is autonomy. Freedom from the pressure to make one ‘correct’ choice. There is no correct choice. There’s just what you decide you value. Ignore other people’s blueprints—they depict a world we no longer live in.”

Caroline Chambers of has firsthand experience embracing the career change. “Don’t be afraid to pick one path for now and then pivot, pivot, and pivot again. Just because you start your career in one field doesn’t mean you have to keep climbing that particular ladder… I majored in International Studies, started my career in advertising, pivoted to catering, then restaurant consulting, and now I’m a food content creator whose cookbook was on the NYT bestseller list for six weeks. As long as you work hard and are good and kind to the people around you, you will go far, pivoting your way around until you figure out where you’re meant to be.”

No matter how many pivots you make, though, you’ll still face choices. Author Gretchen Rubin of offers some wisdom there: “Whenever we choose one path, we must forgo other paths, so any choice may bring unavoidable regret… If you move to Boulder, you can’t also live in New York City. If you go to grad school, you can’t join that start-up team. Trade-offs and compromises are inevitable. It’s very reassuring to accept that we may have some regret no matter what we choose.”

Just be sure to make the choice, however difficult it may be. “Remember, not choosing is a choice. The more mindfully we make our decisions, the more satisfied we’ll be with our direction.”

“Get a life. A real one.”

Education doesn’t end after graduation; it just changes format. “I graduated from NYU in 2005 with a degree in journalism,” author Tao Lin told us. “One of the main messages I got from college—and public school—was that most things have been figured out, and so few mysteries remain. Since then, I’ve realized this isn’t true. Many questions remain unanswered or unasked, and much of what’s presented as foundational appears to be incomplete, misleading, or false. Reality seems to be far more mysterious, complex, magical, benevolent, and terrible than textbooks, mass media, and pop culture suggest... So I recommend viewing your post-graduate life not as the end of your education but as the start of a longer phase of it. One with no professors, tests, or grades—just you and books.”

Tina Brown has one of the most fabled editorial careers in living memory—leading mastheads at Tatler, Vanity Fair, The New Yorker, The Daily Beast, and, now, —but she’s still learning from the greats. “A good primer for how to succeed at warp speed is Barry Diller’s memoir Who Knew, which I write about in Fresh Hell this week. When Diller worked in the William Morris mailroom at age 19, he spent every spare moment reading the files of past negotiations and learning about the business. Tough-skinned, ego-free, work-all-night willingness to do any job is so rare these days, it will instantly mark you out for promotion.”

Continuous learning and curiosity might even turn into a job. “Back when I started ,” Azeem Azhar said, “I wasn’t chasing a business model. I was looking for understanding. Writing publicly forced me to refine my thinking. That compounding curiosity became the foundation for a global audience and a new kind of business. You don’t need a newsletter, but you do need a place to test your ideas.”

And as Emily Sundberg of notes, leading a curious life is—frankly—cool. “Get a life. A real one. Not just a following online or a job title that your peers respect—a real life. Have interests and then dig deeper into them. Attempt to become an expert at something. It’s cool to sit down at a dinner table and teach your friends something new. It’s cool to sit down at a dinner table with strangers and have some insight into what they’re talking about.”

“All flourishing is mutual”

Despite all this talk of individual paths and personal autonomy, success rarely happens in isolation.

“It took me more than a decade to learn that I am not an individual actor striving for personal success in a harsh world, but rather a node in a web of interdependence that defines the human experience,” Rosie Spinks, the journalist behind , told us. “We live in a time when storied institutions and the traditional metrics of success seem to be in collapse. That is precisely why investing your energy into building a network of strong relationships—not just online but in your personal life, your wider community, and the few miles around where you live—is becoming a more meaningful source of security than an employment contract. I invite you to reject the main-character myth, which is defined by scarcity, competition, and infinite extraction. And instead embrace the far more liberating truth that, as author and botanist Robin Wall Kimmerer wrote, ‘all flourishing is mutual.’”

Tina Brown notes how important interpersonal skills are in professional relationships. “In job interviews, avoid the construct of ‘me’ and ‘I’ and ask yourself, what can you do for the person interviewing you? Not ‘I’m looking for a way to be creative and show I can do whatever’ but ‘I’m so excited by what your company is doing with X and relish the chance to contribute to it.’”

As a self-confessed former asshole, author and podcaster Dan Harris says “the skill that you should work on is your ability to relate to other people.” Here, he shares instructions for a loving-kindness meditation, designed to help you feel more empathy and warmth toward other people (and yourself).

Rather than offering advice on re-creating his own meandering career path—a “historically specific exercise in luck through which my particular skills and neuroses were appropriate to publishing formats, funding structures, and business models that didn’t really exist before this century and seem unlikely to last much longer”—Max Read instead suggests a few “slick moves” designed to assure everyone you know that you are “a generous and classy friend”:

• When you’re invited over to someone’s home for the first time, bring a tin of home-baked rosemary shortbread, specifically this recipe from Melissa Clark, which is delicious, sophisticated, and incredibly easy.

• If you find out the hotels your friends are staying at on their honeymoon, you can send them a bottle of champagne to have waiting in their room when they check in.

• For your partner’s birthday, send them to a spa for a day with a friend, and pay for the friend as well.

• When your friends have kids, send food right after the birth (homemade pesto and homemade pasta is a good gift), and then again after 2 or 3 months when people have stopped sending things. Send a batched cocktail, too—St. Agrestis does boxed Negronis.

• Always—always—tip over 20 percent. You will never, ever regret tipping well, in your entire life.

“Trust your feelings”

It’s age-old advice for a reason. Signull of puts it succinctly: “Rationality becomes a cage when you’re constantly simulating instead of experiencing. And ironically, the more you ‘think it through,’ the more detached you get from the signal your instincts are screaming at you. The best compass is often what feels obvious but terrifying. Not what’s safest, or what’s most optimized. I would trust your feelings more than you otherwise would.”

Heather Havrilesky—of fame, and an expert advice-giver if there ever was one—gets to the heart of this transition: “The only way to become intimate buddies with an inky black abyss is by looking inward: hearing the voice inside you that feels connected to this gorgeous and scary world in spite of your fears, listening to the melody under your skin that tells you that you’re brilliant and strong and you can show the world your heart without fear. Every time this broken world destroys your sense of yourself, remember that this is how you find your true path, your deepest desires, your strongest convictions, your most enduring connections to beauty and love and happiness: You expose yourself to the world as it is. You embrace your new role as the boss. You won’t always want the job. That’s normal. But you’re the only one qualified for it. Trust yourself.”

“There is no better time to be uniquely human”

So far, we’ve danced around the topic on everyone’s mind: The AI revolution isn’t coming—it’s here.

Azeem Azhar cuts straight to the chase: “You’re graduating into a moment of deep transition. Beyond difficult politics, polarisation, and a climate crisis, is AI. It is the single most important change in a century or more, and extremely powerful AI is going to be a reality in the next couple of years... The world you’re graduating into is unpredictable, so become adaptable, not just employable.”

Knowing how to navigate the tech is key, according to Timothy B. Lee of . “Invest time experimenting with new AI tools so you can figure out how to use them at work. AI tools are poised to accelerate almost every white-collar occupation … if you become one of the first people in your firm to master a new AI tool, you’ll be far more productive than your peers.”

That said, remember who’s in the driver’s seat. Alberto Romero of offers a crucial distinction: “AI is a tool, and like any other, it should follow the golden rule: All tools must enhance, never erode, your most important one—your mind. Be curious about AI, but also examine how it shapes your habits and your thinking patterns. Stick to that rule and you’ll have nothing to fear.”

And there’s opportunity in the disruption. “There have always been opportunities for independent operators and contrarian thinkers. I’ve learned a lot from studying them, and emulating them,” Ted Gioia told us. “But now is the best time ever for bohemians, outsiders, nonconformists, visionaries, and gadflies. That’s why we’re seeing a rise in alternative culture. That’s why we’re seeing the emergence of new indie channels (like Substack). Not even AI can stop this—in fact, AI will accelerate the shift away from the monolithic and toward the personal. The more individual you are, the more you will be immune to it. The more you will thrive. The more you will enjoy life.”

Animator Erik Winkowski of agrees. “As generative AI gets increasingly sophisticated at making slick, spectacular, perfect art, I believe there will be a growing hunger for the imperfect—the human. Nothing is more alienating than perfection. Your so-called ‘imperfections’ may be the very thing that creates a connection with your audience.”

Nonagenarian writer, editor, photographer, and publisher Lloyd Khan thinks that AI will lead to a renaissance in practical skills. “Strange as it may seem, I’d recommend learning to work with your hands. I had a full-time job in the ’60s (insurance broker in San Francisco), but I spent every night after work and every weekend building a house.” And there are other benefits, too: “As a result, I’ve never had a mortgage, nor have I ever paid any rent. Learn to use your hands.”

Despite the name, energy, finance, and economy expert Doomberg delivers perhaps the most uplifting message of all: “Believe it or not, there is no better time to be uniquely human. The realm of banal mediocrity is flooded, but there is a life raft for those who approach their work with a commitment to excellence. The trick to success is that there is no trick: the trick is to be better. Yes, that’s right, quality execution builds a durable, valuable moat around any endeavor—a principle that applies to all types of work in any field and any industry. Good luck, and go make yourself indispensable!”

Lightning round

Hunter Harris: “Keep your student ID so you can use it for discounts. And back up the contacts of your .edu address too!”

Kareem Rahma: “Only work with people who you’d like to go on vacation with.”

Tina Brown: “Never utter the words ‘work from home.’”

Laura Kennedy: “Try not to neglect dietary fibre. Literally everything goes wrong without it.”

Ziwe: “My advice is to listen to Roy Wood Jr.”

New Yorker critics don’t generally go looking for self-published short stories. Most readers don’t either, unless they’re looking for fan fiction or erotica. It sometimes seems that the best way to share fiction online is to catch your readers by surprise. In my case, the critic, , was already a subscriber—he followed primarily for my takes on contemporary and classic literature. When I mentioned I’d written a novella, his expectations were low:

Toward the end of last year, the writer Naomi Kanakia gave readers of her newsletter advance notice that she planned to send them a 15,000-word novella she’d written. I didn’t plan to read it: I don’t really like reading fiction on screens, and I knew I wouldn’t get around to printing it out.

Then the novella, “Money Matters,” showed up and I instantly devoured it.

Being a fiction writer on Substack isn’t much like being one in the traditional literary world. In that world, there are orderly processes for getting your work into people’s hands. You submit to agents or editors. They publish your work in places where people expect to see fiction: literary journals and the fiction section of the bookstore.

Many fiction writers on Substack have found their audience using these traditional processes. Writers like , , and already have large readerships, and they use this platform to connect more intimately with that audience. But many interesting writers on Substack are less established: unknown fiction writers honing their voice, growing their audience, and experimenting beyond the reach of traditional gatekeepers. These are the writers I call “Substack natives.”

As I wrote in my post about the review, I reject the idea that talent is rare. There are many great fiction writers on Substack, including some who are experimenting with form and genre and seducing their readers into coming along for the ride. Here are three, whose names you probably haven’t seen in a bookstore—yet.

Chatty, informal ghost stories

writes one of Substack’s most eclectic literary newsletters. In it, the seasoned critic, who has bylines in the New York Times and a book forthcoming from Scribner about Ursula Le Guin, Joanna Russ, and Octavia Butler, showcases a more informal side. Whatever she is into—whether it’s perfume or Taylor Swift or Neon Genesis Evangelion—her subscribers are going to hear about it.

One day in January, apropos of nothing and with no explanation, she just started posting monthly ghost stories. I surely wasn’t alone among her subscribers in being surprised. I didn’t know BDM wrote fiction! Her Substack is a safe place for her to experiment: If a story doesn’t quite land, we move on without comment. If it’s great, we say so.

And sometimes the results are spectacular, as with her February ghost story, which is a controlled, compelling performance from its first paragraph:

She saw them the first time she stepped through the door: the ex-girlfriends. They slid down the walls of his home, leaving trails of—what? ectoplasm, was that it?—behind them. They smiled at her with translucent gelatinous smiles. They were not jealous. They welcomed her as a sister. She was not jealous either—that was impossible, frankly, after all, they were dead and she was alive—but it was hard not to lift up her shoes with each step and shake them out, as if there were gummy traces of ex-girlfriend stuck onto the soles.

confirmed that she hasn’t published fiction elsewhere and, aside from these stories, she hadn’t written any since high school.

Analytical fairy tales

is a pseudonymous writer whose stories lurk somewhere in the nexus between fairy tale and contemporary sociology. Her best-known story, “Cropped Red Hoodie,” is an eerie rendition of Red Riding Hood, featuring a neurodivergent Red:

She had a fairy godmother. Because she wasn’t a princess or anything, her fairy godmother was pretty low-tier. At her baptism, her fairy godmother, who didn’t know much about Christianity, was deeply moved by the reading from the Gospel “Judge not, lest ye be judged”—an attitude very foreign to the cutthroat social world of the fae court—and also deeply moved by a few christening reception mimosas. So her fairy godmother gave our heroine the doubtful gift of being unable to judge others.

Stories are an infrequent but much-anticipated offering from Sympathetic, who largely posts about literature, fashion, and human behavior. Because her analytical yet playful sensibility informs all her writing, her audience sees these stories as part of the same overall project as her regular posts. They know that in everything she writes, she strives to understand the rules of contemporary human behavior.

Fictional cultural criticism

is the pen name of Patrick Roesle, who has taken a different approach to beguiling his readers. His most accomplished fiction masquerades as cultural criticism—reviewing a wild (and nonexistent) Korean webcomic called Help Me! I’ll Always Be Everybody!, about a protagonist who’s doomed to a series of endless reincarnations within a surreal fantasy kingdom:

Help Me! I’ll Always Be Everybody! begins with a twenty-something named Jin perishing in a train crash on their way home from work. The hazy artwork leaves their gender obscure, and I’ve since learned that “Jin” can be either a male or female name. After waking up in a sumptuous covered bed in an unfamiliar room, Jin recoils at the sight of a stranger’s face in the gilded mirror on the wall. Jin is now Beatrice, the eldest daughter of the noble Doukes family and the most desirable woman of marriageable age in the Seinkeit Kingdom.

Over time, the story gets increasingly baroque and unhinged, and then opens up to show us more of the fandom that’s grown up around this mysterious webtoon and its shadowy creator.

The future of fiction

Traditionally, fiction writers practice their craft by getting critiques from their peers in workshops. But Substack offers an experience more akin to an open mic night at a stand-up comedy club. You can feel in real time whether your fiction is working—whether it’s landing with the audience you’ve built. And that response allows writers to adjust their stories accordingly, until they’ve found a style that’s both true to their voice and genuinely compelling for the reader.

I know this may sound strange to traditional fiction writers. I’ve been one myself for 20 years, with four traditionally-published novels and dozens of short stories to my name. But it was only when I started sharing my fiction on Substack that my voice really sharpened. Only by testing and discarding the conventions of the traditional short story was I finally able to figure out which parts of my stories were essential and which parts I was only including because I thought editors wanted to see them.

The result is fiction that feels alive: playful, genre-defying, and accessible. If you’re a reader looking for something new, something surprising, this is where to find it.

Background

Keyaira Boone: It’s the first Monday in May! That means we will all be getting in touch with our inner Miranda Priestleys.

Sowmya Krishnamurthy: Last night, the Met Gala took over New York City—and your social media timeline—as celebrities, designers, and anybody who could afford the $75,000 ticket descended on the stairs of the Met. Shout-outs to everyone who watched for three hours while wearing sweatpants and eating takeout. We’re the real MVPs…

Phoebe Maltz Bovy: The Met Gala, for the uninitiated (which is, btw, many who are mad at it), is a big bash fundraising for the Costume Institute at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. It is not related to the Met opera house, nor to Gala apples.

Bonnie Morrison: [T]here remain many who compare tonight’s festivities to the Oscars thanks to the celeb wattage, though I personally think it’s really more like Fashion’s Super Bowl—particularly if you think of the Super Bowl less as a contest between two sports teams and more as the annual convention of the world’s biggest corporations and upstarts vying for the biggest audience of the year.

The exhibit and theme

Hunter Harris: “They done fucked up and made the Met Ball black,” bellowed Law Roach at a pre-Met party on Saturday night. This year’s Costume Institute spring 2025 exhibition is “Superfine: Tailoring Black Style,” and the gala’s dress code is “Tailored for You.”

Clare: [T]he thesis of the exhibition, per the Met’s website, is: “In the 18th-century Atlantic world, a new culture of consumption, fueled by the slave trade, colonialism, and imperialism, enabled access to clothing and goods that indicated wealth, distinction, and taste. Black dandyism sprung from the intersection of African and European style traditions.”

Bonnie Morrison: I know I don’t need to tell you that we live in a culture whose relationship with even discussing race is so complicated that there is no way that this choice was made lightly, or that it hasn’t gotten everyone involved with the evening—even as guests—preparing to choose their words carefully.

Alexander Mcqunt: According to Vogue, the exhibit will be organized into 12 sections, each representing a characteristic that defines dandy style: Ownership, Presence, Distinction, Disguise, Freedom, Champion, Respectability, Jook, Heritage, Beauty, Cool, and Cosmopolitan—inspired by Zora Neale Hurston’s 1934 essay, The Characteristics of Negro Expression.

Amy Odell: The exhibition itself was fascinating—one of the best I remember seeing at the Costume Institute—thanks to the well-curated historical depictions of Black dandies throughout. It included clothes worn by Frederick Douglass and personal effects of W.E.B. Du Bois, like his laundry list, along with contemporary glittery tailoring by Olivier Rousteing for Balmain.

Clare: When you filter this intellectual project through the Met—an earnest celebration of consumption, clothing, and goods that indicate wealth, distinction, and taste—the performative elements that formed Black dandyism and make it historically resistive are deadened a bit, no?

The looks

Boy Beat: Okay, so first off, let me say that I was really excited for this year’s theme, “Superfine Tailoring: Black Style.” I just knew that we were going to get our chance to show out from a great historical context. However, the first Monday in May came, and in the words of [André Leon Talley], “My eyes were starved for beauty.” The children gave me nothing.

Simone Oliver: This year’s tailoring did heavy lifting—whether in Thom Browne’s architectural custom suits (Zoë Saldaña!) or the deconstructed pearls woven through Pharrell’s LV ensemble. Forget the feeds—these were pieces that whispered lineage, not just label.

Chevanne Scordinsky: The Gala could have used a bit more sapeur energy. More color, more shapes instead of props.

Olivia Tauber: Zendaya and her stylist Law Roach also made a…slight fashion error. The Challengers star made her highly anticipated entrance in a custom all-white Louis Vuitton suit and hat styled by Law Roach, channeling a 1970s Bianca Jagger vibe. But only hours later, actress Anna Sawai (of Shōgun) arrived wearing a strikingly similar Dior suit and matching wide-brimmed hat, launching an instant "Who Wore It Better?" frenzy across the internet. All this tells me is there needs to be a Met Gala FB group like we had for high school prom.

The ghost of the gala

Bonnie Morrison: I am thinking of the most famous and recognizable avatar of the “Black Dandy,” André Leon Talley, whom I have already seen many cite as the patron saint of this show.

Amy Odell: The late fashion editor grew up in the Jim Crow South and got his start in the industry working for Diana Vreeland when she was a special consultant for the Costume Institute in the seventies. Monday’s gala opens the Costume Institute’s new exhibition, Superfine: Tailoring Black Style, which features a number of pieces owned and worn by Talley, including monogrammed Louis Vuitton trunks, a Morty Sills suit, and one of his signature caftans.

Stephanie Tinsley: Ever since the Met Gala theme for 2025 was announced, André’s name has been on everyone’s lips, and his likeness posted on everyone’s Instagram. There is no question that he is the quintessential Black American dandy. You cannot talk about Black dandyism without referencing André. I would argue you cannot talk about Vogue magazine or about the Met Gala without mentioning André.

Amy Odell: Anna Wintour recently paid tribute to him in Vogue, writing, “I have thought of André so many times—happy and bittersweet memories mixed together. I thought of how even when he was doing something one might have found slightly over the top—playing tennis in full Vuitton, for instance—it was, for André, an act of supreme confidence, of total self-possession.”

Ayan Artan: [Anna Wintour’s] (mis)treatment of André Leon Talley is well-documented, both in his own autobiography and from the accounts of other insiders who knew them both.

Simone Oliver: Anna Wintour’s own hush of a cloud coat was a nod to André, designed by Virgil (RIP). A whisper between legends.

A dose of reality

It is difficult
to get the news from poems
yet men die miserably every day
for lack
of what is found there.

—William Carlos Williams

April, the month Eliot famously deemed the cruelest, is kindest to poetry. It’s when we nationally awaken to poetry’s efforts to capture the human experience in all its messy contradictions, leaning into uncertainty and wonder and bringing readers along for the ride.

Williams’s adage pairs beautifully with Ezra Pound’s assertion that “Poetry is news that stays news.” Poetry gives readers the most immediate and urgent hotline to feeling. Big emotions turn us instinctively, like human sunflowers, toward poems, which are singularly compact vehicles for thinking and feeling. They have a knack for distilling our existential questions and putting all that wondering to music—after all, the term lyric poetry comes from the lyre, which accompanied the recitation of poetry in antiquity.

On Substack, poets shed the constraints of traditional publishing timelines, sharing works in progress and experimenting in real time. What arises isn’t just a collection of newsletters but a living anthology of established voices and emerging talents in conversation with one another and their readers. If you’re still not convinced that poetry is for you (it is!), I created a primer of Poems for Those Who Don’t “Get” Poetry. But beyond that gateway, Substack presents countless paths to discover the poems that will speak directly to you—from translation projects that breathe new life into ancient verse to craft discussions that demystify the process. Allow me to introduce you to a few of my favorites.

Poetry in progress

Quiddity: a word I love. It means “the inherent nature or essence of someone or something.” The you-ness of you. That is what the best poets translate through their writing—formal or free verse, ruminative or praising, expansive or brief. It’s the way one listens to the singular voice channeled through them and delivers that voice alive on the page.

This is the foundation for the widest category of poetry on Substack. No two posts are alike: you might get the intimacy of seeing work that could later make its way into books, hearing poets muse about their writing lives, or watching notes and fragments coalesce into longer lyric explorations.

is one of the best-known poets on Substack, offering devoted readers a mix of never-before-seen work and poems from past collections. And his commitment to Substack’s potential as a propagator of new writing is especially inspiring to emerging writers.

Being witness to commitment and experimentation, that magical balance between discipline and freedom to explore, is riveting. I so admire , translator and former Random House editor ’s long-standing project to chronicle daily life:

Text within this block will maintain its original spacing when published

4.11.25

what I so desired
     I can’t have

thank you
                      blessed stars

Keep reading

Andrea Gibson’s gorgeously smart features videos of the poet reciting their work and contemplating illness, resilience, and the role that poetry plays in capturing duress, heartbreak, and hope. Here they are reading their poem “What Love Is”:

Keep watching

I was thrilled to see former U.S. Poet Laureate Tracy K. Smith join Substack recently. She’s already sharing poems, works in progress, and essays. Hear her reading a new poem, “I Don’t Believe in Doom,” here:

Keep listening

Then there’s , an ambitious translation project by , a writer dedicated to bringing these ancient poems from the Tang Dynasty (618-907) to a contemporary audience. Hyun Woo translates one poem from the collection every week. Here’s one of my favorites, number 55:

The Farewell to Those Who Will Stay at a Tavern of Jinling

The wind blows the willow flowers, filling the inn with fragrance;

The ladies of Wu press the liquor, calling to the guests to try.

The young men of Jinling come and see each other off;

Those who will go, those who will not, each empty his goblet.

I invite you to ask the water flowing east, to test it:

Which is short and which is long, the thoughts of farewell or itself?

Keep reading

Curators and craft

The poet-as-curator offers us an assortment of poems organized by their own idiosyncratic logic. It’s like receiving the perfect mixtape: songs you’ve known and loved for years, and others you’re grateful to discover for the first time. Chances are good that within any given roundup, at least one poem will speak to you, introducing you to a new voice.

’s is one of my go-tos. He has a phenomenal reader’s eye for juxtapositions that span ages, styles, and modes, creating unexpected—and delightful—tensions and correspondences. His thematic roundups extend far beyond expected subjects like love and death to more nuanced territories like therapy (“This is progress”) and mood (“Puff out the hot-air balloon now”). Through Sean, I was reminded to revisit one of my favorite Audre Lorde poems:

In my own newsletter, , I do something similar: curating Poems for Your Weekend around themes that serve as a prescription for your mind or soul, while exploring how neuroscience and mindset can help us live more sustainable and enriching artistic lives. Through it all, I write about the role of wonder in poetry, the subject of my PhD.

For subtle close readings of poems through the lens of life rather than the ivory tower, I turn to ’s , with its deeply thoughtful essays on the poems he selects each week. His recent post on the poems of Linda Pastan includes this gorgeous poem from Insomnia:

Imaginary Conversation

Text within this block will maintain its original spacing when published

You tell me to live each day
as if it were my last. This is in the kitchen
where before coffee I complain
of the day ahead—that obstacle race
of minutes and hours,
grocery stores and doctors.

But why the last? I ask. Why not
live each day as if it were the first—
all raw astonishment, Eve rubbing
her eyes awake that first morning,
the sun coming up
like an ingénue in the east?

You grind the coffee
with the small roar of a mind
trying to clear itself. I set
the table, glance out the window
where dew has baptized every
living surface.

Keep reading

I love Devin’s remarks: “why the last is the kind of question I adore, a question that does not assume it knows what we are supposedly supposed to know, a question that mirthfully pushes back against the world, and wonders aloud about astonishment in the face of certainty.”

For those interested in craft, literary powerhouse recently joined Substack and is already offering excellent writing exercises, as helpful for readers hoping to understand poetry as for poets creating their own. His Exercise 036: Begin with the End introduced even this poetry veteran to a new term: anadiplosis! is a resource-rich space, featuring interviews, classes, craft essays, and more. A large group of poets and readers has gathered to take advantage, creating a vibrant community. And a special shoutout in this section to , a poet whose candid essays on navigating both the publishing and dating world as a woman are their own kind of education on living more bravely and authentically.

Final thoughts

Whether encountered in an anthology or a newsletter, poems remind us of what Williams knew: that vital truths exist within their lines that we can find nowhere else. And there’s a special joy in reading them on Substack, where poets find renewed pleasure in publishing on their own terms, and where readers can witness the process and join the discussion. The digital format extends poetry’s reach, bringing these voices to new audiences who might not normally encounter them. Here, poets and readers are participating in poetry’s oldest tradition: the passing of essential truths from one human heart to another. I hope you’ll join us.

Spring, for all its promise, brings a particular agony for cooks—the awkward lull when winter’s last treasures (citrus, forced rhubarb) have slipped away yet summer’s glut (stone fruits, berries!) remains just out of reach. This in-between season—the exact opposite of the Southern Hemisphere’s current transition to hearty root vegetables—offers a fleeting, singular collection of flavors, neither fully of the frost nor fully of the thaw, rewarding the cook who meets the challenge with equal parts patience and mischief.

In England, this is called the “hunger gap”—that expectant stretch from March to May when the fields are silent and those who eat with the seasons must practice the art of waiting. Indeed, no matter where you live, cooking in early spring requires a finely balanced approach: the wisdom to coax winter’s veterans into one last moment of glory, balanced with the restraint to let spring’s debutantes shine. The cook who lavishes as much care on a waning cabbage as on the season’s first asparagus understands something fundamental: that good cooking always begins with listening to the land, and honoring its rhythms.

And honour it we shall.

A perfect spring meal

Now that daytime stretches luxuriously at both ends—birdsong at dawn, the sun lingering lazily past seven—there’s a softness to the light that makes everything feel a little more . . . possible. Colors now appear richer, fuller, and more embracing. It’s the kind of shift that makes you want to fling open the kitchen windows, lay down a vaguely floral tablecloth, stir a pot, and feed someone something green and good, like ’s yoghurt creamed spinach, or ’s “aggressively green tasting” herby spring vegetable hash with burrata.

For me, however, after a 10-hour test kitchen shift—endless dishes, a few small triumphs, the occasional existential crisis—by 6:30 p.m., the thought of a multi-course meal has all the appeal of alphabetising spice jars for fun. Which is exactly where ’s quietly miraculous spanakopita steps in. “The Best,” she calls it, and she’s not wrong. It’s flaky, deeply savory, and, most importantly, mercifully straightforward. This is a recipe designed for those nights when dinner feels more like an obligation than a calling. We’ve all had days when all you’ve got in the refrigerator is a block of feta and a bunch of now-wilted spinach—the only surviving evidence of last week’s spring farmers market haul. As for the freezer? Well, there’s still that half-forgotten packet of phyllo wedged behind the frozen peas. Perfect.

While the pie is baking, you might as well pour yourself ’s golden mezcal Negroni—smoky, smooth, just bitter enough. By now, you’ve got 15 minutes until supper, which is enough time to admit that no dinner is complete without something sweet to close it out. It needs to be something quick and easy to prep. That, I can manage with the help of cookbook author , who has the ideal offering: gahwa sundae—coffee, cardamom, saffron, dates, and salted pistachios. This recipe will elevate even the most frostbitten tub of vanilla ice cream into something that feels decidedly luxurious.

Spring’s bounty

On to more green spring-y things. ’s braised mutton with wild garlic dumplings sounds like precisely the sort of slow, satisfying Sunday project that brings out the best of the season. If it were me, I’d add a side salad of fennel and arugula—potent breath be damned.

And talking about breath, if you’re curious: wild garlic (also known as ramps) is spring’s most fragrant treasure. It sends chefs, cooks, and foragers into a kind of zealous frenzy. You’ll spot it carpeting damp woodland floors or turning up in neat little bunches at farmers markets, looking deceptively innocent for something so pungent. The season is maddeningly brief—March to May, give or take—so if you see it, don’t hesitate. Grab a bunch or two and speed towards the kitchen.

For a deeper dive, offers a wild garlic primer complete with history, and a few recipes worth bookmarking. Her wild garlic oil, for instance, makes a fitting companion to a chilled ajo blanco. And if you’re feeling brave, chef, fermenter, and gardener offers his wisdom on how to make beginner-friendly fermented wild garlic. I’m intrigued.

Meanwhile, forced rhubarb—that luminous, blush-pink vegetable grown in candlelight and harvested by hand—is nearly taking its final bow. But not to worry, garden rhubarb is stepping in from the wings: greener, sturdier, a little more rustic, but still capable of some excellent tart theatrics.

Cookery writer , who is based in London and Venice, proffers a rhubarb and cheddar tart that is esoteric enough to raise an eyebrow and irresistible enough that I’d gobble it up with a mix of curiosity and delight.

Tea and treats

April is more famine than feast for fruit, so for desserts, I turn to chocolate, coffee, and tea for early-spring baking inspiration.

If you’re after something light, sharp, and just decadent enough, ’s rhubarb fool with black tea cream is as refined as it sounds, as well as blissfully easy to pull off when you want to impress without perspiring—which, for me, is always.

And on the subject of tea, I’m English, so of course in my kitchen, tea can be found not only right beside the kettle but hiding in tins, caddies, boxes, and bags (not forgetting the jars tucked behind jars containing blends I don’t remember buying). However, if your cupboard is bare, start with Earl Grey. Its citrusy, floral backbone lends itself beautifully to spring baking. Snip open a bag or two and fold the leaves into cake batter, as in ’s Earl Grey and orange tea loaf; whip them into a light cream, as in ’s Earl Grey castella cupcakes; or steep them in warm milk for a dark chocolate and Earl Grey ganache that tastes far more elegant than the effort suggests.

Tea is also an excellent addition to cookie dough, something I always have stashed in the freezer. “Who are these freezer people?” asks in his April newsletter. “The ones with room for turkey carcasses, three-layer cakes, lasagna, cookie dough. . .” Here I am, David—a self-confessed deli-container stacker and zip-lock-bag tucker. My freezer’s a game of Tetris: stock wedged between breadcrumbs and browned butter, mystery containers of sauce I swear I’ll label next time, and always at least one bag of cookie dough. Usually two.

This weekend, it’s ’s Earl Grey and chocolate cookies. Fragrant with bergamot, anchored by just enough chocolate, crisp-edged, and made for dunking. Perfect with a cuppa or iced milk (yes, iced—it’s magical), or perhaps ’s honey and tahini latte.

Which brings me to coffee and cake—specifically, tiramisu cake. ’s version sounds like the perfect answer to a late-afternoon slump. Ideally, this dessert is best consumed horizontally, with a spoon in hand and no pressing obligations. On menus, you’ll notice that some pastry chefs turn to tropical fruit during early spring whilst they wait for the berry and stone fruit season. That’s fine with me, because when there is chunky monkey banana bread on offer, I’m prepared to be patient!

For more spring recipe inspiration, see:

• Passover Menu Planning by

• Crispy fish and lemon butter spring veg by

• The April Edition by

• Lasagna with Cheddar and Pea Tip Pesto By

• Robin’s Nest Carrot Cake Cookies with Cardamom and Brown Butter by

• Garlic Chive and Sesame Bread by

• Rolled and Stuffed Leg of Lamb by

Recently, a friend shared an itinerary he’d received for an upcoming bachelorette party in New Orleans. We were stationed in the corner of a Basque restaurant, catching up over gildas and bomba rice, when he slid his phone across the table to show me the flyer that the bride-to-be had prepared.

The itinerary detailed NOLA’s usual suspects: Bourbon Street, booze, and beignets. However, on the second day of the schedule, wedged in between a swamp tour and a “pizza-pool party,” was an activity I had never seen explicitly listed on any group trip. The activity seemed essential for a weekend this meticulously planned to function, and yet its scheduling—so blatant, and in writing—was surprising. It felt strangely compassionate, signaling an acute understanding of what the attendees would need at that particular moment: post-swamp-tour, pre-pizza-pool-party, in an Airbnb of 17 people.

The scheduled activity was “screentime.”

This inclusion acknowledged that for guests to manage a high degree of social activity, they would require downtime. But what does it say about us that “screentime” and “downtime” have become synonymous?

Rotting or rest?

Over the past year, “rotting” has become a part of our cultural lexicon. Though “brain rot” is ostensibly pejorative, it’s often referenced with something like pride; terms like bed rot and rot girl summer have been used to describe how scrolling on a smartphone can be palliative, offering our minds a chance to relax and restore. A hibernant state, perhaps.

But rotting is rarely as rejuvenating as rest, especially if it is used to fuel avoidant tendencies. “The irony of the phone as the siren song for the restless is that it feeds and starves us both,” writes in What is rotting, if not rest?. “Scrolling shortens our attention spans, which lowers our tolerance for stillness, which inspires us to scroll more. It also makes us feel guilty, which makes us more avoidant, and more likely to seek out rotting when we need a breather.”

For me, this tracks. I’ve written before about how we use the “rot” on our smartphones—the memes, the fancams, the TikToks—to distract from the overload of information we are exposed to every day, usually on the very same device. If I am feeling overstimulated, turning to my phone only glazes over the cacophony with its own tweaky haze, rather than dulling the noise.

But it’s not just rest that smartphones have been accused of ruining; phones have become a punching bag for many of our contemporary woes. “We all know our phones are destroying our attention spans, our dopamine reward systems, our relationships,” writes in Your phone is why you don’t feel sexy. “We know they’re numbing our feelings and experiences.” identifies the culprit simply: “It’s obviously the phones.”

The dumbphone solution

It seems that everyone is looking for a way to circumvent these issues. One of the loudest contingents is migrating to “dumbphones”—basic devices without apps, social media feeds, or the rot-inducing content designed to maximize screentime and keep us entranced in endless streams of slush.

The dumbphone solution is, perhaps surprisingly, especially popular with younger generations. In a piece called Third Places and Dumbphones, reports on Gen Z’s spiked curiosity surrounding the low-tech device:

“A growing number of Gen Zers are dumbphone-curious, with Google searches for the term spiking over the summer. Beyond the obvious benefits of embracing low-tech devices (having a working brain again), many report feeling more confident in their appearance after quitting smartphones, with reduced exposure to filtered, unrealistic beauty standards on social media. Psychologists link this trend to the Social Comparison Theory, suggesting that less screen time leads to fewer opportunities for self-criticism and more time for hobbies and self-discovery.”

One of the most visible advocates for the dumbphone movement is , a self-described anti-tech activist whose writing and pamphlets help readers transition away from smartphones. This is necessary, because even the most ardent dumbphone advocates admit that not having a smartphone can be tough. For , who gave up his smartphone for Lent last year, the hardest part was losing access to GPS; he found himself resorting to hand-drawn maps. Although the thought of braving the New York MTA with a hand-drawn map is somewhat terrifying, there is something appealing about reducing your environment to a sketch on the back of a napkin.

Beyond the missing functionality, being without a smartphone can also just feel awkward. reports feeling conspicuous: “I feel pretty stupid just standing there, with nothing to look at, staring into space. Sometimes, I’m not entirely sure I’ve done the right thing, giving up my device. If I’m being honest, I feel lonely without my old phone. I feel left behind. I must appear pretty boring compared to other people I see in public, importantly tapping away on their phones.”

And, as writes in Your dumbphone won’t save you, it’s not as if the cellphones from 30 years ago weren’t distracting: “We don’t even have to read philosophy from the flip-phone era to get a sense that many of the criticisms directed towards smartphones today were directed towards dumbphones twenty years ago. Watching Sex and the City reruns, it’s striking how disruptive and intrusive Nokias and flip phones were.”

The dumbphone movement can sometimes seem more like a trend—an aesthetic, even—than a sustainable, practical response. Last fall, during the final glass pours of a dinner party, someone proudly presented a dumbphone and asked for my number. I awkwardly typed my name into their contacts, surprising myself with the muscle memory recall of T9 texting. It was charming at the moment, but looking back, it felt like a gimmick. Reader, we never texted.

Let your phone die in your hands

It seems to me that the solution must be somewhere in between abstinence and submission. As puts it, “I want to use a smartphone, not be used by my smartphone.”

Instead of trying to turn back the clock on phones and the internet, recognizing our power to set limits on their influence is a more realistic path forward. I like ’s concept of “letting your phone die in your hands.” Rather than being consumed with where you’ll get your next charge, this method allows you to recognize that your phone—like leftovers, milk, or fruit—has a best-before date. And it’s okay to let its powers wane. Bravo writes:

“I’ve decided to allow my phone to die in my hands at the end of the day. To witness my battery slowly drain from green to yellow and then red and not reach for a charger. It felt wrong at first, but it’s become one of my favorite things to do. Yeah, ‘do not disturb’ exists, but nothing beats do not resuscitate.”

Bravo’s reframe doesn’t require us to “dumb” our technology down. Instead, it acknowledges that screentime—whether productive or just mindless scrolling—serves a purpose for many of us. There’s a natural lifespan for everything, and, by not making our phones immortal, we remember that we are the ones who should be living.

In anticipation of the Oscars this Sunday, we spent some time parsing reviews of the year’s Best Picture nominees. Here, Substackers weigh in on the contenders, the controversies, and the predictions to determine which movie will take home the biggest little gold guy.

A Complete Unknown

Vince Mancini: A Complete Unknown has the weird distinction of being a lot better than I thought it would be and not nearly good enough to be nominated for Best Picture.

Hundred Tomatoes: “The Bob Dylan Movie, starring Timothée Chalamet,” aka James Mangold’s “A Complete Unknown,” starts in New York during the year 1961. Against the backdrop of a vibrant music scene and tumultuous cultural upheaval, an enigmatic 19-year-old from Minnesota arrives with his guitar and revolutionary talent, destined to change the course of American music. He forges intimate relationships with music icons of Greenwich Village on his meteoric rise, culminating in a groundbreaking and controversial performance that reverberates worldwide.

Sonny Bunch: It’s a perfectly pleasant movie and Timothée Chalamet is quite good in it, but it never really rises above pleasingly competent.

Vince Mancini: Hearing Dylan break into “The Times They Are a-Changin’” gave me goosebumps—just to imagine a time when the words could ring broadly true, and not ironic in the face of a senile gerontocracy.

Anora

Chris Williams: Few people humanize the people who fall through society’s cracks like Sean Baker does.

Susan Bordo: I love Anora and I’m hoping that for the first time in many years my choice will be in step with the Academy’s.

Travis Scott: Sean Baker’s story of a sex worker who unwittingly falls for the son of a Russian oligarch is equal parts funny, touching, and tragic, with probably the best performance of the year from Mikey Madison.

Gabriel Miller: Anora is a rare film where the protagonist doesn’t know what genre of movie they’re in, and that creates a propulsive drive throughout each movement of the script, which ignites her character change.

In the beginning, she believes she’s in a gritty drama when, in fact, the movie is played like a fairy-tale romance.

In the middle, she believes she’s in that fairy-tale romance when, in fact, the movie has transitioned to a crime thriller.

By the end, when she is emotionally torn to ribbons, she believes she is in a prison drama when, in fact, she is part of a slow-burn romance.

Sonny Bunch: It’s heartfelt and funny and just jaundiced enough to keep from getting sappy; this is a movie that does not have a storybook ending because life is not a fairy tale.

Asli: After sitting on it, [Anora] didn’t stick with me the way I expected it to. I think the characters, especially Ani, fell flat and were too one-dimensional. Yes, the final scene was wonderful, but it wasn’t enough, and it was too late.

The Brutalist

Inkoo Kang: [The Brutalist is] not just my favorite film of 2024. It was the most exciting kind of feature there is for me—the kind that makes me excited about the cinematic medium and its possibilities.

Abhinav Yerramreddy: Shot in glorious VistaVision, The Brutalist remains true to its period settings while approaching the American Dream with a grimy undercurrent, examining the juxtaposition between the hope of America and the underlying traumas of the immigrant experience.

Eddie Huang: There wasn’t a single second of this film I wasn’t engaged, despite the fact that the entire narrative revolves around the erection of a building. Stare at me crazy all you want, but the film of the decade is a 3-hour HGTV epic set in post-World War II DOYLESTOWN, PENNSYLVANIA.

Sonny Bunch: The first half of this movie is one of the best movies of the year, a gut-wrenching portrait of immigration, assimilation, the push and pull between capital and art, and the underbelly of the American Dream. Unfortunately, there’s a second half.

Vince Mancini: I like to think of The Brutalist as a more house-trained Emilia Pérez. Certainly it’s a lot more successful at genuinely epic filmmaking (and would be worth it for that alone), but it’s also true that a lot of its appeal is making me wonder what the hell I just watched.

Conclave

Karla Marie Sweet: When Isabella Rossellini appeared on-screen, I literally said “Are you kidding me?” out loud because, wow, this is such a superstar cast. Lucian Msamati, John Lithgow, Stanley Tucci, and Ralph Fiennes (are you kidding me?) play four cardinals who have assembled (along with dozens of others) to vote for a new pope after the previous dies suddenly.

Natalia Albin Legorreta: Conclave knows what it’s doing and it’s confident with it—the comedic timing that doesn’t feel like comedy, the gossip sessions thinly veiled as very-Vatican-serious-conversations, the third-act twist … it’s delicious.

Vince Mancini: After 20 minutes of watching guys in robes be passive-aggressive to each other, I thought “Is this going to be all there is?” And then for two more hours that was all it was, and yet I was riveted.

Karla Marie Sweet: I loved the use of colour in this film, how so many shots look like paintings and how much I learned about the process of the vote. It’s a fascinating insight into a small, seldom seen community of clerics.

Dune Part 2

Travis Clark: [N]o movie represented the highs of the theatrical experience last year [better] than “Dune: Part Two,” a sci-fi epic on a grand scale that tops its (also superb) predecessor in nearly every way.

Vince Mancini: [E]verything I saw was mind-blowing and eye-popping and shit-button-puckering and all of the adjectives. It was good! And yet good in a way that a year later, I don’t have much to say about it.

Asli: I know Dune: Part Two is one of the least likely films to win in this list, but it’s definitely in the top for me. The Academy hates genre films, but this doesn’t change the fact that both parts of Dune have been some of the most influential films in recent times.

Emilia Pérez

John Paul Brammer: Emilia Pérez has been called many things: Offensive. Misguided. Overrated. Regressive queer representation. An inaccurate portrayal of Mexican culture. Musically unpleasant. Bad at Spanish. Honestly, it sounds a lot like me.

Chris Williams: Jacques Audiard’s film is many things, but boring isn’t one of them.

Vince Mancini: Suffice it to say, it’s a Spanish-language musical set in Mexico starring mostly non-Mexican actors and directed by a Frenchman, featuring a plot about a drug lord getting a sex change and then redeeming herself by helping cartel victims’ families find their loved ones’ bodies. Oh, and then the “lead” actress (not really, but she was nominated that way) was discovered to have said some nice things about Hitler. And then compared herself to Jesus and civil rights martyrs in the apology tour. So, yeah. “Controversy.”

John Paul Brammer: None of this blowback would be happening had the film not racked up a truly bewildering thirteen Oscar nominations, making it the most nominated film of the year. Its critical success raises questions. Questions like: Why? and Did you watch it? I kind of feel bad for Emilia Pérez. I don’t think it was supposed to get this many accolades. They piled too many awards on it, and it’s collapsing under the weight of its trophies. It’s just not a movie that can hold up to this level of scrutiny.

I’m Still Here

Abhinav Yerramreddy: Not many people had I’m Still Here making it into the Best Picture Top 10 earlier this year, but here we are.

Natalia Albin Legorreta: I love nearly everything Walter Salles did with this story about the Paiva family during Brazil’s military dictatorship in 1964.

Chris Williams: This is why the Oscars are so important. I hadn’t heard hardly anything about Walter Salles’s drama—also nominated for Best International Feature—until it began collecting nominations. I’m glad I was alerted to it, because it’s one of last year’s best films, an emotional epic about the defiant act of living a normal life in a state of oppression.

Asli: I was very moved by I’m Still Here, but even more so by Fernanda Torres and her performance. This movie relies heavily on the actors—on their performances and especially on their chemistry. And there isn’t a second where any of that is less than perfect.

Nickel Boys

Travis Clark: A bulldozer of a movie that generated a few hushed “wow”s in my theater as the credits rolled. RaMell Ross’s adaptation of Colson Whitehead’s Pulitzer Prize-winning novel is told in a first-person POV style that isn’t a gimmick but a fully realized expression of the film’s narrative. It took a bit for it to win me over, but it soon washes over you. Now I can’t imagine it any other way.

Asli: Nickel Boys was gut-wrenching. I couldn’t look away—literally and figuratively. I’m still not sure how I feel about the first-person perspective, but I love that the director took an unconventional and original approach to this story.

Chris Williams: I wish I loved Nickel Boys as much as many other critics do.

Abhinav Yerramreddy: Ultimately, Nickel Boys feels more like an intellectual exercise than an emotionally resonant story.

The Substance

Hundred Tomatoes: The Substance brilliantly explores the dangers of attempting to overcompensate for societal beauty standards with excellent acting while simultaneously scarring me for life in the process.

Lora Dailey: [It’s] The Picture of Dorian Gray on ayahuasca. The younger alter ego, Sue, drains the life force from the older Elisabeth, abusing the Substance to the point where her body literally falls apart. But it doesn’t end there, as the final half-hour is an over-the-top gore fest with a deformed female figure literally described as a “monster.”

Chris Williams: I may not love The Substance, but I love that it’s nominated for Best Picture. Imagining old fuddy-duddy Oscar voters sitting through this movie’s Troma-adjacent final moments fills me with glee.

Wicked

Asli: Seriously, Wicked for Best Picture?

Jenny Gorelick: I cried just as much in the theater as Cynthia and Ari did on the press circuit.

Chris Williams: I’m glad Wicked is good and I hope it means we get more musicals. I’m glad it found an audience. But in terms of recognition, to quote Don Draper: That’s what the money’s for.

So, what’s gonna win?

Clare: It’s a particularly interesting year, I would say, especially in contrast to last year’s snoozefest (predictable + Anatomy of a Fall 😴). Not because the nominated movies are better (they’re just slightly worse) but because they are just a little unwieldy.

Gabriel Miller: Anora had a triple win this weekend. Top Award at the Directors Guild of America (DGA), Producers Guild of America (PGA), and Critics Choice Awards. This trio of wins puts Anora as the front-runner for the Oscars, as there is a significant crossover between the PGA/DGA voting bodies and Academy voters.

More importantly, when all three voting bodies align, as happened with Oppenheimer, Everything Everywhere All at Once, Nomadland, and The Shape of Water, the film went on to win the Best Picture Oscar.

Allie L.: Anora is the current front-runner, but not as much of a lock as recent winners like Parasite (2019) and Everything Everywhere All At Once (2022) were. I think The Substance has a shot, especially for its contrast in theme and tone to last year’s winner, Oppenheimer.

Vince Mancini: Conclave feels like a good-value dark horse, but the simple fact of me typing that ensures that it won’t happen. Did I reverse jinx myself by typing that second sentence? Maybe! Go sacrifice a goat and see what its guts tell you!

Not Jess: I don’t know why I’ve put full stock in The Brutalist winning here. It just is an energy that I’ve always felt. I know there’s a lot working in Anora’s favor, so perhaps I should cast my net wider to one or the other … it just feels like depending on the show, Anora either gets a lot of love or absolutely none.

On Notes, recommendations take on a life of their own: short, sharp bursts of praise can feel like the digital, grown-up version of those Valentine’s Day cards we used to trade in school. Except instead of a card with a cartoon dinosaur saying “You’re Dino-mite!”, it’s telling a creator, This moved me, and I’m so glad you made it.

In honor of Valentine’s Day, we’ve rounded up a few of our favorite love Notes. And if you’ve been quietly admiring someone’s work, consider this your nudge to send them a little valentine—no dinosaurs required.

And don’t forget about self-love:

Another Super Bowl has come and gone. Everyone agrees on the winners—the Eagles and Kendrick Lamar—and the losers: the Chiefs, Drake, and a booed Taylor Swift. But that’s where the consensus ends. Here’s how Substackers across the platform analyzed the game, the ads, and the halftime show.

The context

Matt Ripple: It’s Super Bowl Sunday—and over 100 million Americans will be watching, plus another 50-or-so million globally, braving brutal time zones to catch the action and its cultural spectacle.

Subomi: Beyond the game itself, the Super Bowl has evolved into a global spectacle—blending advertising, sports, music, fashion, and entertainment into one massive cultural moment.

Matt Ripple: [W]hen it comes to the Super Bowl, it’s a fact that the majority of viewers aren’t viewing for the love of the sport. The bigger draw is the overall fanfare: the off-the-field storylines, the halftime show, and the pinnacle event in advertising. Or should we say what was once the pinnacle of advertising….

Julie Vick: I do not get excited about watching the Super Bowl, but I do get excited about eating Super Bowl snacks.

Arif Hasan: One of the outstanding things about the Super Bowl is that even if the game is a boring blowout—which it was this year—it can provide us with a window into so many other elements surrounding the NFL landscape and culture at large.

The game

Stefen Rosner: On Sunday night, the Kansas City Chiefs looked to join an elusive list of franchises in sports history to win three straight championships. But the Philadelphia Eagles said not so fast, as they put up 40 points in a 40-22 victory.

Neil Paine: The story of Super Bowl LIV was, of course, about the winning Philadelphia Eagles: the excellence of Jalen Hurts, the acquisitions of key players like Saquon Barkley and Zack Baun, their ferocious play in the trenches and elite balance across both sides of the ball. But by nature of whom they beat, the story was also about the losing Kansas City Chiefs—whose bid for the first Super Bowl three-peat fell one win short in the end.

Dave Pell: The team you hate the most got crushed by the team you hate the second most. Welcome to what amounts to joy in 2025.

Neil Paine: From the first few minutes of the second half onward, the Chiefs’ win probability never crept above 1 percent again, and the three-peat evaporated into the New Orleans night. It was a testament to the Eagles’ ability to wrest away control of the Super Bowl script from a team whose victories have seemed all too inevitable in recent seasons.

Halftime show

Subomi: The talk of this year’s Super Bowl has to be this year’s halftime performance by Kendrick Lamar, fresh off winning five Grammy Awards, including Record and Song of the Year for “Not Like Us.” Kendrick’s performance sparked conversations beyond hip-hop, making his performance not just entertainment but a statement.

The Daily Chela: Lamar’s halftime performance made history, marking him as the first solo rapper to take center stage during the Super Bowl, showcasing both his artistry and his impact on global culture.

Tiffani Lashai Curtis: [T]he Pulitzer Prize-winning rapper, petty Gemini sun, and expert storyteller gave us a performance that was for us, by us. And he did it while wearing a pair of bootcut/flared-leg jeans that were perfectly molded to his body—apparently the jeans are by the brand Celine. But I know vintage American Eagle jeans when I see them.

Alanna Vizzoni: It was hard for me to enjoy the halftime show because I was so distracted by Kendrick Lamar’s jeans.

Amaya Lim: And the chain! A for Aubrey? A for America, lowercase in a blatant show of disrespect? A for A minor? The last one is most likely, but I think there are layers to Kendrick’s choices, and what he wears is onscreen for the entirety of the performance—he certainly put thought into all of it.

Alice Liddell: The show on February 9 was nothing short of spectacular, brimming with powerful messages that had fans buzzing on social media. The resounding takeaway? Don’t mess with Kendrick Lamar.

Amaya Lim: This image has got to be one of the best things to come out of American television in years. Kendrick actually says Drake’s name, on live international television, and gives him this smile: “I hear you like ’em young.” The whole stadium said “A minor.” Drake is cooked.

Shit You Should Care About: Serena Williams came out and crip walked, which is symbolic for a few reasons. (1) Because the media tore her to shreds for doing it on the court at Wimbledon, and (2) because Drake was once rumored to have dated her (or at the very least had an obsession with her).

Anita Schillhorn: I watched the Super Bowl with a group of people who weren’t that familiar with Kendrick Lamar. His symbol-rich halftime show started with him kneeling (yes, like Colin Kaepernick) on a GNX, the car that his most recent album was named after. He had Samuel L. Jackson playing Uncle Sam, interpreting and critiquing the songs he played—and echoing a lot of the critique and complaint about his performance I was hearing from my fellow living-room pundits. His dancers formed an American flag as he critiqued the nation, with Trump watching … and rumor had it that Trump left the stadium. And of course he teased, then dropped, his Grammy Award-winning Drake-burying hit “Not Like Us.”

Mikayla Bartholomew: If Kendrick Lamar has taught me anything, it’s that I’m not being a hater loud enough.

The ads

Subomi: This year, it wasn’t just a showdown between the Philadelphia Eagles and the Kansas City Chiefs—it was also a battleground for top brands going head-to-head to win most memorable and engaging Super Bowl commercial.

Shiv Singh: Super Bowl ads are massive investments, but the real question isn’t just about cost—it’s about strategy, timing, and impact.

Arif Hasan: This year’s Super Bowl ad spree features advertisements for all sorts of artificial intelligence products; some are from companies dedicated to providing generative AI as their primary product, like OpenAI, while others are focusing their ad space for their AI offering—Google is advertising Gemini, Microsoft is showcasing Copilot, GoDaddy and Salesforce are highlighting the AI tools within their platform, and Meta is advertising its … sunglasses?

Norman Weiss: With a few notable exceptions—Nike’s “So Win” spot, which pushed back against the “no win” situation in which female athletes are often trapped, was terrific, as was Kieran Culkin’s sassy voice work as a beluga whale for NerdWallet—this year’s Super Bowl commercials did not live up to the hype.

Mary Lemmer: To me, it seemed like celebrity appearances substituted for good, clever writing and implementation of an ad.

Anita Schillhorn: As usual the simplest, most visually compelling ads broke through, like Instacart’s ad uniting a disparate bunch of brand characters, and ahem, my agency’s own spot for Little Caesars.

Mary Lemmer: Squarespace’s “Tale as old as websites” ad gets the trophy from me. It was clever, creative, and memorable!

Clare Michaud: I find the Squarespace Ireland commercial deeply offensive lol a website doesn’t “make it real” leave the beautiful country of Ireland alone.

Final thoughts

Cam Higgins: The Super Bowl is a reminder of our weird, postmodern, late-capitalist, consumerized, digitized, in-it-together-whether-we-like-it-or-not-ness. Love it or hate it, we’re all gonna watch it. And we’re all gonna talk about it.

Dave Pell: [D]idn’t this year just feel a little less Super Bowl-ish than usual? Maybe it was the non-competitive game. Maybe it was that Patrick Mahomes was outed as a human being. Maybe it was that in the age of sociopolitical uproar, marketers played it particularly safe with their commercials. Maybe it was the first-time attendance at the game by a sitting president, which added a political undertone during one of the communal moments we were all hoping would provide a brief respite from politics. Maybe it’s that the halftime show, while good, required some backstory and analysis in a year when we probably could have used the simplicity of Left Shark. Maybe it’s that we’re no longer allowed to eat all the carb-heavy snacks that once dominated game days. (My 3-layer dip included Ozempic, Mounjaro, and Wegovy.) Meh, maybe it’s just that my team wasn’t in the game.

On January 21, President Donald Trump stood by OpenAI CEO Sam Altman as they unveiled Stargate, a $500 billion investment in data centers and infrastructure to power AI. Like many, I balked at the cost—but that’s what Altman insisted was necessary to scale up superintelligent artificial intelligence. Meanwhile, on the opposite side of the globe, the Chinese AI company DeepSeek had just released R1, a reasoning model that matches OpenAI’s o1 on advanced capabilities tests yet supposedly cost only $5.6 million to train.

Consumers shot DeepSeek to #1 on the App Store. US tech stocks tanked. Investors argued about whether the numbers were real. The prediction markets went wild. Trump called DeepSeek “positive” and “a wake-up call.”

I turned to Substack’s tech experts to find out what was actually going on.

How does DeepSeek R1 work?

Like ChatGPT, DeepSeek R1 is a large language model. LLMs train on massive text datasets to build a model of the world, which helps them generate human-like responses to user prompts. (Thanks to for the low-jargon breakdown.)

If you talk to DeepSeek, one of the first things you’ll notice is the “chain of thought”: the AI’s exposed internal monologue. I find it endearing; compares it to the publishing of Hunter S. Thompson’s raw notes.

Don’t bother asking DeepSeek about Tiananmen Square, though. Or Taiwan, or Xi Jinping. As finds, this censorship happens in the cloud—local versions of R1 will get as spicy as you want. It also isn’t multimodal: unlike most of its U.S. competitors, R1 handles text but not images.

For the nerds in the audience (complimentary), the DeepSeek team published a detailed technical paper. breaks down the methods that make R1 so efficient, in both technical and lay language. Their algorithms are like “cooking a big meal in a [small] kitchen. You have to be clever with how you use your oven, stove, and fridge, making sure you're not wasting time or space.”

speculates on the future of models like R1 that can reason without human help in the form of supervised fine-tuning. “Are there inhuman ways to reason about the world that are more efficient than ours? Will AIs get not only more intelligent but increasingly indecipherable to us? I believe that the answer is yes.”

As for that $5.6 million number, it probably only covers the last training run (which is still impressive), explains . Other overhead costs, like employee salaries, electricity costs, and pretraining experiments, aren’t included. And points to the history of tech commoditization: we should expect costs to drop.

Who’s behind DeepSeek?

published the first English-translated interviews with DeepSeek CEO Liang Wenfeng (2023, 2024). But you might not know about DeepSeek’s parent company, the hedge fund High-Flyer Quant. shared an interview with High-Flyer CEO Lu Zhengzhe on how AI helps the company invest.

This symbiotic relationship is an advantage, Liang says. High-Flyer’s ample coffers allow DeepSeek “to focus on research and exploration rather than vertical domains and applications.”

Hence the buzzing lab culture portrayed in ’s deep dive, replete with young math competition winners and minimal commercial pressure. According to , Chinese engineers open-source partly to “prove that their tech is good enough to be taken for free by foreign firms—some nationalism, some engineering pride.”

reminds us not to attribute DeepSeek’s accomplishment to government policy. Unlike China’s leading battery and solar companies, DeepSeek’s funding was all private. “DeepSeek’s success arose not because of China’s innovation system but in spite of it.”

What does this mean for the tech industry?

Just to repeat the fact: R1 is really, really cheap. “It performs about as well as OpenAI’s o1 reasoning model but is about a tenth the cost,” writes in his comprehensive overview. He explains, “DeepSeek researchers managed to replicate advanced reasoning on what would typically be considered ‘lower-grade’ hardware.”

DeepSeek also released R1 with open weights, meaning anyone can download, run, and tune it themselves (unlike ChatGPT, Claude, or Gemini). It’s an instant reasoning upgrade for small AI models everywhere, per Anthropic co-founder . Or as puts it in his paean to open-source AI, “Everything is a computer with a PhD.” For instance, “What if your smoke detector could call 911, itself, when it detects a problem—while also calling you and cross-referencing what it is sensing with security camera footage in your home?”

Possibilities like these are probably good for Apple, as a maker of consumer devices, but embarrassing for Meta, whose riches should have given it a lead. Despite the Monday crash, the jury’s out on Nvidia (the company that makes the most powerful AI hardware). Everyone is asking, Will the Jevons paradox hold?

As for OpenAI, thinks it’s in trouble—Altman just announced price cuts for ChatGPT Plus. But other analysts argue that OpenAI is still in the lead: the o3 model, while not yet public, blew PhD-level math benchmarks out of the water.

Chinese tech leaders aren’t claiming victory either, according to a summit translated by . They know the competition’s fierce (and pricey) at the top: “OpenAI’s $500B computing power makes sense… Being at the frontier exploring the next generation is most resource-intensive.”

What does this mean for AI policy?

Not everyone is thrilled about open-source proliferation. , for one, worries about malicious actors adapting R1 for scams and cyberattacks. He also suggests that a U.S.-China arms race might lead to careless acceleration.

For what it’s worth, that race has already started. China’s rapid progress in advanced manufacturing surprised the world and brought tech to the forefront of U.S.-China tensions, writes . DeepSeek only stokes further anxieties about whether Silicon Valley can sustain a large lead in AI.

makes the case for U.S. antitrust laws, arguing that a more competitive market spurred DeepSeek’s innovation. asks: Why let American tech companies burn $500 billion on AI infrastructure if DeepSeek is doing more with less? On the podcast, Karen Hao concurs: with R1’s efficiency gains, we shouldn’t need all those datacenters (and their resource consumption) to bring AI to the masses.

But the more computing power you have, the faster you can innovate, explains on ChinaTalk. “You wouldn’t want to choose between using [AI] for improving cyber capabilities, helping with homework, or solving cancer.” That means chip sanctions are still an effective means of maintaining a US lead. “While export controls may have some negative side effects, the overall impact has been slowing China’s ability to scale up AI.”

What does this mean for you and me?

After hearing the hype, I decided to test DeepSeek myself, dumping in notes for a post I’m writing on chatbots and oral culture. My expectations were low: LLM outputs tend to carry an unmistakable robotic sheen. But for the first time ever, I watched an AI generate readable—even rhythmic and engaging—prose from my pile of fragments.

I was stunned. For a few hours, I wondered if I should put my own sweat into the essay at all. Then, as if a sign from the gods, ’s latest essay hit my inbox. AI might feel magical in its frictionlessness, but (human) writing—like walking—is valuable because of the friction.

Sometimes it’s tiring or slow, sometimes it’s boring or pointless [...] When you choose to walk, you choose not to pursue immediate gratification or even comfort but simply to expand the number of things that might happen to you. Walking invests in the potentiality of your experience with almost no promise of tangible reward at all, which is something like being alive.

The scenic route! The love of the game! Of course, I remembered, recalling one of my own old posts:

That’s the human difference—not the final output, but the spark of creation. The fact that you start bad and get good later, the work of figuring out where you’re going while still on the way there. I hope we all keep writing once it stops being an insult to sound like ChatGPT. Robots have been better than humans at chess, Jeopardy!, and lifting heavy objects for a long time now, but that doesn’t supplant our interest in playing ourselves.

I closed the DeepSeek tab and returned to my notes. I think I’m still going to write that draft.

“​Creativity” is a word so overused, it’s easy to forget what it actually means. But as a new year begins, let’s reclaim creativity for what it truly is—something beyond skill or intellect. It’s about perspective. It’s what creates great symphonies and novels, striking magazine covers and memorable billboard designs, but it’s also a mindset: one that dares to think differently, to step beyond the expected.

I’ve previously written about creativity as a religious experience, one where you transcend your sense of self and feel at one with a greater whole. Whether it’s designing unique ceramics, crafting a new recipe, or launching a Substack, exploring the oft-forgotten creative parts of ourselves can make us feel less anxious and more fulfilled. Consider these insights an invitation to rediscover your creative spark.

Find inspiration

Creation begins with that sacred, slippery aha moment. Moments of inspiration often follow admiration: “Notice who you admire,” says . “Our sources of inspiration are our guides. They take us towards our magic. They show us where to look to find our gifts.” That moment of resonance is “the universe winking at us, a flicker of our own magic catching our eye.”

Finding resonance can be more passive than you might think. Inspired by Rick Rubin’s The Creative Act, reframes creativity as a process of listening rather than forcing: “Creative inspiration is something already present in the world—like a signal waiting to be received. The creator’s role isn’t to strain for ideas but to attune themselves to this frequency and let it flow through them.”

Inspiration isn’t fully in your control, which is why it happens when you’re not trying too hard. When you’re distracted, dreaming, or just taking it slow—that’s when the lightbulb ideas happen.

Go for a long walk

As I’ve said before, long walks are the midwives of good ideas. The ancients called it solvitur ambulando, Latin for “it is solved by walking.” In , she writes, “in the open solitude, the frequency of your thoughts begin to change, and something that didn’t make sense, the gray areas clouding your head, presents itself with an answer in startling technicolor.”

Nietzsche, who walked five to seven hours a day, agreed: “Only ideas won by walking have any value,” quotes him as saying.

For inspiration, take a look at the scenes that have inspired your (digitally) local creators. And if you need more guidance, try asking yourself these six questions next time you’re on your feet.

From left, photos by Tom Cox, Benjamin Parry, and Chris Arnade

Connect with other artists…

Host a collage night, or a “friendsidency” à la to build deeper connections centered around creative pursuits. Use art as a vessel for gathering, because “every idea needs a little breathing room, and if they only sit in the stuffy, closed-up space of our own minds, they won’t get it.”

When reflected on her vision for the Conscious Writers Collective, a place where writers connect with each other, she said, “I often think of T.S. Eliot’s assertion that all literature is happening simultaneously, which makes me feel a deep and numinous connection.”

…but also make time for solitude (and boredom)

When we talk about creativity, it’s often about art—that primitive process of turning individual perception into expression. And your creative self also needs silence to be heard.

Inspired by Julia Cameron’s The Artist’s Way, encourages her students—and herself—to go on artist dates: “a block of time, perhaps two hours weekly, especially set aside and committed to nurturing your creative consciousness, your inner artist.”

That’s what did before starting her three-year MFA program in creative nonfiction. She stayed at a secluded resort in New Mexico, where she found the magic of silence and nothingness. The desert is “a place I know I’ll return to when I need to be still. When I need to feel the spaces, in between the echoes.”

Another way to be more in tune with your creative intuition is to do… nothing. This is what calls perfect rest: “Want new ideas? Spend one full day alone doing nothing. Want to be more in touch with yourself? Spend one full day alone doing nothing.” Not even meditating—just sitting there. “100% not judging the process.”

And if doing nothing makes you bored, that might be a good thing. talks about the expansiveness of that feeling of nothingness: “The times when I’ve been forced to lie fallow have spurred me toward the most fertile creative periods of my life.”

Ignore creativity advice

Maybe there’s no formula for creativity at all. Maybe you just need to learn the rules of the game and break them your own way, as in ’s reminder to ignore writing advice. Or, as says about befriending your curiosity, you don’t need creative guidance; you just need to follow what’s fun and interesting. And if you don’t like what comes out of it, you can always rip it up and start again, like .

Log off. Touch grass. Get some ZZZs (it’s okay to rest). Go on a picnic. Bake something delicious. Cuddle a sheep.

And if all else fails, remember: “In order to be an artist, the first thing you have to do is make some art.” Consider this your invitation to get started.

To prepare ourselves mentally and emotionally for the new year, we asked a few Substackers what they’re expecting to see in 2025. At a glance: look forward to more indulgent (and surprising) flavor profiles, a return to practicality and personality in fashion, more vibrant literary criticism, and a potential sports betting backlash.

Food

Hispi cabbage, shared by Maddy; seashell butter, shared by Rach; chili crisp, shared by Brian Lund; ice cream, shared by Nicola Lamb

: The USA is about to discover the joy of grilled hispi, also known as pointed cabbage. Honestly, the fact that it hasn’t had its moment yet is shocking to me. Vietnamese cuisine is poised to become the new go-to for modern and fusion takes.

: Forget mayonnaise, or mustard; it’s all about chili condiments (sauces, ferments, crisps), herby marinades, punchy sauces from around the world, nuts and seeds to sprinkle over veggies. Condiments, with a capital C, aren’t just condiments anymore; they are building blocks for home cooking.

: It’s safe to say that the pendulum has swung back hard from almost a decade ago, when meat, dairy, carbs, butter, and the like were demonized and shunned. They’re resurfacing now in a way that feels almost like a crusade. [Expect a] big year for beef tallow, clarified and grass-fed butter, and even lard.

: Coffee has ruled the dessert and cocktail space for so long, I think it’s time for tea to take center stage. Imagine matcha affogatos, chai tea tiramisu, matcha martinis, and black tea pumpkin pie.

: Forget salted caramel; tomato sorbet and squash ice cream are the new frontier of blurring savory and sweet lines.

Fashion

Viv Chen; Jalil Johnson; Bottega Venetta, shared by Liana Satenstein; Tahirah Hairston

: A confluence of things will make this the year of the grown-ass person when it comes to style. I think we can expect to see a willingness to invest when details take our real lives into consideration in practical ways, and even more so when there’s a nod of irony, because we know being serious all the time is exhausting.

: In 2025, I see fashion moving away from dressing for social media—no more every-hair-in-place looks. No more hyper-curation! No more pristine looks. Now we are going back to dressing for reality. Editorials in Family Style and Hommegirls that show models in wearable designer clothes going grocery shopping or picking up their dry cleaning show that there is a shift.

: Luxury fashion prices are already skyrocketing (see: Chanel bag price hikes), and with the looming threat of even steeper increases due to Trump’s proposed tariffs, I suspect brands, especially fast-fashion and luxury ones, will cut more corners, leading to even lower quality.

: I predict that 2025 will mark the end of “quiet luxury” on the runway. With so much change underway, I believe (and hope) that designers will move away from commercially driven collections and embrace a more inventive, perhaps even ostentatious, approach.

: With the rise of government surveillance, laws that limit people’s control over their own bodies, and apps that sell your personal data, I think we’ll see the pendulum swing toward sartorial anonymity as a means of protest, privacy and protection. Longer skirts, baggier pants, facial coverings like balaclavas and scarves, eyewear.

: I think shine will be big moving forward, a slightly subtle shine—like the shiny leather of those Balenciaga bags that were big back in the early 2000s. Metal elements like studs and interesting hardware shapes are going to continue to be important, an armor of sorts.

: I think people want to have a little fun. There is a subtle sexiness brewing. Not a laughable “mob wife” microtrend, but after the past few seasons of quiet luxury, I think we’ll see more skin, more power.

Literature

: One heartening trend from 2024 was the increase in the number of negative reviews (often fueled by critics’ desire to make their bones with a viral takedown), and I expect the number of negative reviews to increase—paradoxically, debate about a book’s merits tends (as with this year’s divisive literary breakout, All Fours) to indicate that there is genuine interest in the book. A book with no negative reviews is a book nobody is bothering to read closely.

: In 2025 I think we’ll see more mainstream bets on political and artistic subjects that could not have seen the light during the tedious and stifling 2016–2024 era; what will be big this year in publishing is grandiosity, experimentation, bewildering successes and spectacular failures, and the dawning realization that it is now our grave responsibility, as the old ways die out, to usher a new literary age into existence.

: Literary criticism is supposed to be in a golden age, but it’s often disconnected from the common reader—Substack, of course, is very much connected with the common reader. I see many Substacks (like , the , , , , , , , , , and ) offering a wide range of critical writing that covers everything from Latin poetry to Golden Age detective fiction to “the modern novel” to the Mahabharata to the state of the humanities and AI, and so on. I think this gathering of internet critics will continue to flourish on Substack and increasingly offer something different to the existing model from journals and magazines.

: [Publishers will respond to] uncertainty by putting even more money into pushing authors that they regard as surefire hits: Han Kang, Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, and Katie Kitamura all have novels coming out in the first half of 2025. Expect these authors’ names to be everywhere during their release months.

: A publishing trend that is not slowing down: women in literature wanting to be alone and seeking pleasure. Publishing in 2025, there’s Pathfinding, a book about the power of women walking; The Way Through the Woods, a witchy guide to finding your path; and Women Among Monuments, on how women needed ‘permission’ to have solitude over the centuries. My own novel, Table for One, on three intergenerational women seeking time alone, is publishing in April 2025.

: As Gen Z writers hit their mid-20s and we start seeing more debuts from that generation, we’re going to see absurdism, surrealism, and chaos supplanting millennial irony and social satire. As Gen Z rediscovers millennial fashion trends from our Hipstamatic years, there’s a simultaneous renaissance of the alt-lit vibes of the 2010s (HTML Giant, , ). The literary novels that do break out will be more playful and less politically correct.

: The number of high-quality small-press and self-published novels will increase as the Big 5 grow less and less interested in nurturing emerging talent. [...] Ambitious and gifted writers of the 2020s will not wait years and years to get published, especially when the old publicity machinery promises much less than it once did. In turn, the literary “scene” will get stylistically and ideologically richer.

Media and pop culture

Ad featuring Alex Cooper, shared by Ochuko Akpovbovbo; screenshots shared by Lia Haberman

: You probably don’t need me to tell you we’re heading toward a serious power struggle between traditional and alternative media in the coming year—but I’m telling you anyway. Everything we’re already seeing—the ongoing decline in trust in legacy media, paired with the rise of alternative personality-driven media via social media, podcasts, Substack, and private newsletters—will come to a head in 2025.

: The idea of an online monoculture is obsolete. Today the internet is filled with countless communities and creators catering to every taste and topic. While this fracturing will make it harder to grow to the level of MrBeast or Alex Cooper, it also means there’s an audience for everyone—no matter how niche.

: The fall of Crumbl cookie, pregnancy (not mine), cavity removal (mine), an alternative hairstyle where you get rid of every hair on your head except the ones you like to play with when you’re nervous or bored, allergies, and universal love for Mackenzie Thomas.

: Giving people grace on the internet—maybe I’m being overly optimistic, but as someone who has had to learn how to deal with over 3 million different opinions in the comment sections, I feel like we’re finally entering the post-2020 social media era where everyone is just a little bit more . . . chill? On the hinges? Hope so.

Sports

Picture shared by Split Zone Duo; Travis Kelce and Taylor Swift, shared by Ross Barkan

: Sports fans will want more content about the stories off the field. We’ll get more athlete-focused documentaries, content creators covering major sporting events, profiles on WAGs, and brands wanting to capitalize on the fact that there are fans who only watch football to see how a star quarterback performs after his breakup was announced and could care less about his QB rating.

: I don’t know what 2025 holds for sports media on the whole, but I do have a prediction about what will work well for writers and podcasters who aren’t attached to big companies: Make stuff people like, and identify who those people are that you’re making it for. For us, that means making a college football podcast that will appeal to people who want to get deeper into why the sport ticks but also have it balanced with just talkin’ ball. It’s easy to overcomplicate things in an era of “sports and culture” publications, but sometimes people just want to learn a thing or two about the college football season and have a laugh or feel their interest piqued.

: It sounds silly to say that sports will continue to become more mainstream, because they’ve always been a huge part of this country’s identity. But as someone who’s worked in sports media for over a decade, these past few years have felt different. It seems that casual fans are more plugged in than they’ve been before, and that advertisers and businesses rely on sports more than ever as our big, collective moments become more rare (Taylor Swift also helped, let’s be honest).

: As sports betting in this United States continues to grow, largely without guardrails, it’s only a matter of time until famous American athletes are caught up in gambling scandals that will rock MLB, the NBA, the NFL, and other professional leagues. Steroid abuse in the ’90s and early aughts cast a dark cloud over MLB, and it took the league decades to fully recover. We are headed down that path with daily sports betting.

: With a difficult job market in media, more professionals will look to publishing communities like Substack as either a part-time or full-time job. Those communities allow the freedom to leverage the audience gained from a previous job or current social media source (X, Instagram, TikTok, etc.) and help a person strengthen his/her existing brand, as well as make income off subscriptions.

Finally, a hopeful trend for everyone in 2025:

: Phoenixing: this is the phase that comes after life has burned you down, you’ve been in the ashes, and you come out of it. It’s that rising feeling, and I want it for everyone in 2025.