Alphawave agrees £1.8bn takeover by America's Qualcomm
Qualcomm is offering to pay 183p per share in cash for London-listed Alphawave, which is a near-96% premium to its closing price before the takeover interest was revealed.
But Qualcomm has also put forward an alternative share offer to Alphawave investors, which would see them receive Qualcomm stock instead of cash.
The £1.8 billion price is less than half the £3.1 billion value at which Toronto-headquartered Alphawave floated when it listed just over four years ago.
It also sees the London market lose yet another listing after a recent flurry of firms defecting from the City for rival exchanges overseas and a number of firms being bought out.
Tony Pialis, president and chief executive of Alphawave, said: 'Qualcomm's acquisition of Alphawave represents a significant milestone for us and an opportunity for our business to join forces with a respected industry leader and drive value to our customers.
'Together, we will unlock new opportunities for growth, drive innovation, and create a leading player in artificial intelligence (AI) compute and connectivity solutions.'
For Qualcomm, the acquisition is seen boosting its capabilities in AI infrastructure by expanding its intellectual property portfolio in data centre and 5G networking.
As well as data centres, Alphawave technology is used in 5G infrastructure and autonomous vehicles.
Cristiano Amon, president and chief executive of Qualcomm, said: 'The combined teams share the goal of building advanced technology solutions and enabling next-level connected computing performance across a wide array of high-growth areas, including data centre infrastructure.'
The deal is expected to complete in the first three months of 2026.
Alphawave, which listed in London in May 2021, has around 830 employees across operations in Canada, the UK, Europe and Korea.
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The Sun
an hour ago
- The Sun
I took a ride in AI-powered robotaxis set to hit UK – they have more gadgets than James Bond but I missed key element
AS my odd-looking taxi pulled up, it was comforting to know that the driver couldn't have downed a skinful the night before. And I was certain this cabbie wouldn't spend the journey telling me why my football team, Crystal Palace, aren't as good as I think they are. 6 6 6 That's because there wasn't a human behind the steering wheel. I was about to take a ride in an AI-powered robotaxi. They are coming to Britain next year after driverless vehicles were given the go-ahead. Ride-hailing app Uber will be allowed to put passengers' lives in the hands of artificial intelligence in London. For someone who has struggled to comprehend tech since the invention of the SodaStream, this ride was a frightening prospect. Well, would you get on an airliner without a pilot? Gazing out on to the busy freeway in Phoenix, Arizona, with giant SUVs motoring past, I had a similar pang of nerves about riding in the driverless contraption that had come to pick me up. More gadgets than Bond I had read some horror stories about robotaxies going rogue. In 2021, a self-driving car in the sunbelt city became confused by traffic cones then drove away from a technician sent to rescue it. Eventually the Waymo motor had to be disabled so a human driver could get behind the wheel. The passenger filmed the 33-minute debacle and plastered it on YouTube. Last year a General Motors-owned Cruise robotaxi struck and dragged a pedestrian 20 feet in San Francisco. The woman — who was injured — survived the ordeal. And in 2018 a cyclist was killed by an Uber cyber car with a safety driver in Phoenix. Watch moment passenger left TRAPPED in driverless car 'going round in circles' after robot taxi malfunctions The back-up driver had been looking down to watch The Voice TV show which he was streaming when Elaine Herzberg, 49, crossed a darkened road in front of her. It was the first fatal collision involving a fully autonomous vehicle. Nevertheless, with self-driving cars being touted as the future of motoring, it was time for a test run. Booking my ride was simple. I downloaded the app of Waymo One — a self-drive firm owned by Google's parent company Alphabet — and punched in my details along with where I wanted to go. With the thermometer hitting 39C in this desert city, I was on the hunt for a nice, cool pint of Guinness and was told Casey Moore's Oyster House was the place to go. At least there would be no argument about designated drivers. Soon I was tracking the Waymo on my phone as it surged to my hotel through the early rush-hour traffic. And then the gleaming white Jaguar I-PACE came into view — with no one at the wheel. On the roof was something that looked like a giant police blue light with my initials displayed on it. Unlocking its door with the app, I sat in the back (no one is allowed in the driver's seat) as the Waymo played calming elevator music. 6 6 I pressed a screen between the front seats saying 'start ride'. Then, a bit like KITT, the car from Eighties TV series Knight Rider, Waymo began talking. As we pulled smoothly away from the hotel forecourt, the robotaxi told me to buckle up. And then, with the steering wheel spinning as if by some invisible force, we eased into the Phoenix traffic as I let out an involuntary 'whoaa!' On the opposite side of the road cars were whizzing towards us but all-electric Waymo deftly navigated the right path before pulling up at a red light. How did it know it was red? That's one for the brainiacs. Swinging left into East Apache Boulevard, I caught sight of a couple of pedestrians ahead. How would the cyber motor react? My Waymo One slowed and made sure to give them a wide berth. That's because it is bristling with more gadgets than a James Bond car. Its sensors include cameras, radars and something called lidars which use lasers to create a 3D image of the vehicle's surroundings. The in-car computer then makes sense of all the data that Waymo is gathering. And, learning to trust the tech, I was soon beginning to relax. All speed limits were observed and driving rules obeyed. The ride was smooth and felt safe. Perhaps I was better off without a driver after all. Wayve's technology operates more like a human driver would learning to drive in one city and then applying that knowledge to drive in new places. Bill Gates Britain's Department for Transport estimates that 88 per cent of road accidents are caused by human error. Soon we were pulling up outside the pub. Keeping the rear door open a little too long, an actual human called Brian came through on Waymo's intercom to check I was OK. He was certainly more amenable than Johnny, the robot driver of the taxi in 1990 sci-fi flick Total Recall, who Arnold Schwarzenegger ripped out of the cab in frustration be- cause he was not listening to his in- structions. My 14-minute journey over 1.6 miles had cost $9.33 (just over £7). And, unlike most things in America, there was no need to add a tip. Waymo One serves 180 square miles of Arizona's capital — that makes Phoenix the largest fully autonomous ride-hail service zone in the world. After a couple of pints, I decided to summon another Waymo. Not arriving at the front of the pub as I had imagined, it headed to- wards a park- ing lot at the back. Would the robotaxi be able to navigate this manoeuvre? In May this year another empty Waymo trying to pick up its ride collided with a telephone pole in a Phoenix alleyway. No one was injured but pictures show a fire crew attending the scene with the robotaxi suffering a crumpled front grill. Hunk of metal Waymo voluntarily recalled its 672-car fleet for a software update in what the company called a 'safety-first approach'. The crash was put down to the robotaxi's software having 'assigned a low damage score' to the pole. It had misjudged the danger because there was no kerb or clear road edge. My Waymo pulled into the parking lot smoothly and confidently. But, unlike many humans, could it parallel park? Indeed it could and reversing is no problem either. And — despite having sampled some local beverages — there was no barked warning: 'Mate, you're not going to be sick in my cab, are you?' Soon this taxi was traversing the two miles to Society restaurant like a London cabbie with The Knowledge. The 11-minute ride cost $13.31 (£10.25). Again, no tip required by the computer chip and its hunk of metal. With millions employed as drivers across the globe, tech titans are investing billions in robo vehicle technology for what they see as a lucrative driverless future. 6 Last year Elon Musk unveiled Tesla's Cybercab at the Warner Bros studio lot in Hollywood. The world's richest man insisted that the sleek, golden two-seater car without a steering wheel or pedals will be on sale 'before 2027'. Meanwhile Amazon-owned Zoox's self-driving cars will soon be available to the public in Las Vegas. In Scotland a robobus with a back-up driver plies a route over the Forth Road Bridge. Wuhan in China — where Covid was first detected — has more than 400 self-driving Apollo Go cars taking passengers. Tech giant Baidu delayed increasing the fleet to a thousand after complaints by human taxi drivers. A cab firm in the city accused the robotaxis of 'taking jobs from the grass roots'. It will be far from the last time humans protest about losing their jobs to AI-powered robots. Self-driving cars could bring jobs, investment, and the opportunity for the UK to be among the world leaders in new technology. Transport Secretary Heidi Alexander Over here, the UK start-up Wayve will be teaming up with Uber for its taxi service next spring. If all goes well, the plan is to roll out these services across the country in the second half of 2027 when last year's Automated Vehicles Act comes fully into force. Founded in 2017 by New Zealand-born Alex Kendall, Wayve believes it can produce robocars that are safer and cheaper than anyone else by giving the car 'its own brain.' Its AI-driven software can be used to make any car self-driving using cameras. The live images are used to train itself to drive by visual observation. Microsoft founder Bill Gates went for a ride to get fish and chips in a Wayve-powered motor — with a back-up driver — while in London. The tech giant said: 'Other self-driving technologies work only on specific mapped streets. 'Wayve's technology operates more like a human driver would learning to drive in one city and then applying that knowledge to drive in new places.' In May, Wayve raised $1.05billion (£840million) in funding, with Microsoft and Nvidia, a leading chip-maker, among investors. It is the largest known investment in an AI company in Europe to date. According to the Department for Transport, the UK cybercar industry could be worth £42billion and create 38,000 jobs by 2035. This week, Transport Secretary Heidi Alexander said: 'The future of transport is arriving. 'Self-driving cars could bring jobs, investment, and the opportunity for the UK to be among the world leaders in new technology.' Back in Phoenix, I summoned another Waymo for a ride back to my hotel. By now I was relaxed enough to enjoy the experience of being driven through the night-time streets by a machine seemingly with a mind of its own. Yet, as the journey progressed, I realised I was missing something. There was no round-up of the Champions League scores and no chat about the most famous person to ride in the cab. Waymos don't do banter. You still need a human driver for that.
Daily Mail
an hour ago
- Daily Mail
JOHN MACLEOD: He's watching! My unsettling brush with Big Brother while buying sausage and onions in the local Tesco
The other day I noticed a mildly alarming development at our local Tesco. What had hitherto been a tiny, monochrome LED screen itemising each of my purchases, in cigarette-packet print, as the till-chick scanned everything through was suddenly as big as a copy of Cosmopolitan. In vivid Technicolor. With an image of every item and in very big print. I glanced right and left. It was the same at every other till. Each customer's shopping blaringly detailed for all to see. Today, mercifully, it was just sausages, onions, fresh thyme, and a bag of fresh chicken stock. But what if the screen had been regaling every adjacent passer-by with an itemised haul of, um, intimacies? It's bad enough when it's a bottle of Jamesons and some Williams Bros craft-ale. You can just imagine some onlooker's thought-bubble. 'Well, there goes Johnny Journo. Dylan Thomas: The Final Days.' But what of the day, decades hence, when my basket might include the products of deliverance from, as the commercials exquisitely put it, mild bladder weakness? As they say, every little helps. It is even worse at the self-checkouts. These I try to avoid. For one, I genuinely enjoy the brief social interaction with the lads and lasses manning real ones. For another, every different retail chain seems to use different machines and I can never remember on which side I may safely deposit my basket and on which as much as a fat carrot at once invokes the whine of 'Unauthorised item in the bagging area.' There is also an inordinately long list of items which cannot be sold to minors – stuff you probably would not think of: matches, kitchen-knives, bleach, glue and razorblades among them. So, again, the machine purses its digital lips, and there you are stuck till the harried attendant drifts over to confirm you are a verifiable old ruin, swipe his magic card and have a swift nosy at your messages. And worse – much worse – is to come. Across Britain, supermarkets are already rolling out artificial intelligence and autorecognition technology. In England and Wales, they can even hook up their facial-recognition cameras with police databases. VAR – the same technology that has already made football so farcical – is being deployed too. The selfsame tech that catches Erling Haaland's muscular behind offside now lurks, like a beast waiting to spring, lest you amble out of Asda with a can of sweetcorn you haven't paid for. Tesco, too, now trials such kit – though not, so far, in the Outer Hebrides. A wee bird's-eye camera will hang over each self-checkout, watching your every move. Should that Jolly Green Giant can not properly be scanned, it'll immediately play you a finger-wagging video – and, no doubt, in extremis, alert the hovering security-dude the size of a small house. Even a decade ago, most Brits would have balked at this sort of thing. In the Nineties, it would have been unthinkable. 'Some of this will make your life easier,' muses one observer. 'Some of it already does. But much of it asks for something in return: your data, your privacy, your patience, your trust. And not everything you're being asked to give is visible. 'This is not science fiction. It's not the future. It's your local Tesco.' Driving all this, of course, is the issue of what the trade calls 'shrinkage,' we call shoplifting and what our grannies called stealing. Annually, it costs British retailers billions. There were 516,971 offences recorded in 2024 – a signal leap from the 429,873 thefts logged the year before. But only one in five instances saw anybody charged: in more than half, no suspect could even be identified. Hence all this baleful new technology. The unsettling sense of being coldly studied by a machine. Watched, flagged, corrected and accused. That, actually, your caring sharing Co-op fundamentally distrusts you. Around 1990 that moral watchdog of the nation, the Free Church Presbytery of Lewis – unnerved by what had become a hedonistic and at times predatory Stornoway nightlife – called for closed-circuit television cameras to be dotted through the town. People stared, the tabloids tittered and the West Highland Free Press ran a very funny cartoon. No one could imagine anything as outlandish. Yet we have now had CCTV in the island capital for decades. From the Manor roundabout to outside An Lanntair, Big Brother is watching you. We are already well on the way to being one of the most surveilled societies in Europe. Even our most casual online browsing is eagerly monitored by all sorts of bots. When, fancying a new piece of kitchen kit, I casually Googled slow-cookers, for days on end thereafter adverts for said crockpots stalked me at every online turn. Retailers I had never heard of even sent me emails. Not everyone will tolerate this. The Germans will not stand for CCTV and, save where it is genuinely vital for public safety – like airports – you will see no cameras anywhere. That reflects not just dark folk-memory of the Nazis, but the decades much of the country then endured under a Communist dictatorship – a society so bleak, so grey and so stifling that, as President Kennedy cracked, 'We do not need to build a wall to keep our people in.' From secret policemen, regular informers and the occasional grass, it's reckoned that one in 6.5 East Germans worked for the Stasi. In Tirana, the Albanian capital, under the long night that was Enver Hoxha's Communist regime, the state could rely on one in three. Indeed, I am old enough to remember when much of rural Lewis, into the present century, felt like something very similar. People kept binoculars by their main window. Wizened crones knew every car and every numberplate. Murmured if you skipped church; found an excuse to drop by if you received a mysterious visitor or if Donny the Post had dropped off a strange parcel. Boys and girls courted, of necessity, in the hours of darkness: ministers did not dare step out of the manse, of a Saturday, lest there be talk of their casual disregard for sermon preparation. It sounds hilarious, but it was to some degree genuinely oppressive and why, for so many young islanders, getting on meant getting out. My mother still remembers an occasion in 1988 when, home on holiday, she joined my father, a senior clergyman, on a spin to the village where he had been born. He was casually dressed, they told no one where they were going, the latest family car had never been on the island before and they did not stop until they reached his uncle's croft. And they were not ten minutes in the house when the phone rang. It was a couple several townships away whom my father had signally helped when, months earlier, their son had died in tragic circumstances in Edinburgh. The Reverend Professor must now call on them, he must put up a word of prayer with them, and he must do it now. So much for that day of holiday. 'And you know what?' my mother still cackles darkly. 'After all that, they joined the Free Church Continuing.'
Daily Mail
2 hours ago
- Daily Mail
John Textor offers to sell his majority stake in Crystal Palace to prevent the club being kicked out of Europe - as American's asking price is revealed
John Textor is willing to sell his majority stake in Crystal Palace for £175m – and put an end the club's European crisis. Mail Sport understands that the American, whose ownership of French side Lyon has placed the Eagles' historic Europa League place at risk, has offered his stake to his fellow co-owners in a last-ditch bid to ensure the club does not fall foul of UEFA's rules. The figure, for Textor's Eagle Football Holdings' 43 per cent share, is understood to value Palace at significantly less than the amount Textor himself offered to buy out his three fellow directors earlier this year, according to sources with knowledge of the situation. The development is the latest in a high-stakes situation, as the the clock ticks towards a conclusion. Last week, this newspaper revealed that a delegation from Palace jetted to UEFA's headquarters in Switzerland last week to plead their case. It is thought that a key element of their argument was that while Textor holds the majority stake, he is only entitled to 25 per cent of the voting rights and as such is not in a position of influence. However, that may well not be enough to satisfy UEFA chiefs – with a rapid sale now being viewed in certain quarters as the only way out. Palace chairman Steve Parish also holds 25 per cent of the voting rights along with two other partners, the Americans Josh Harris and David Blitzer. Harris and Blitzer would be the two most likely to buy Textor out and it is thought that Woody Johnson, the owner of the NFL's New York Jets and former US ambassador to the UK, may yet become involved. Textor's asking price is thought to be more than £50m less than the revenue-multiplied-by-three formula often used to value business. Palace unexpectedly qualified for the Europa League thanks to their shock FA Cup victory over Manchester City. Other clubs with similar models often put their ownerships into a 'blind trust', to avoid any issues with UEFA's rules. However, at the March cut-off for submissions, the prospect of Palace qualifying for Europe was unlikely at best. Should the situation not be resolved Textor's Lyon would take the Europa League slot as they finished higher in their domestic league. To exacerbate the situation, Blitzer's Brondby would then take the Europa Conference spot for the same reason as he also failed to spot the potential issues. Nottingham Forest would be elevated from the Conference League to the Europa League while Palace's rivals Brighton would take a slot in the Conference League. Palace have until June 24 to present their final case to UEFA officials, who are then expected to take around a week before reaching a verdict. Should they not be satisfied with the ruling, Palace could appeal to the Court of Arbitration for Sport, as could the other clubs involved in what is a complex situation. Suich a scenario is not unlikely given what is at stake.
