Little Rock bartender reacts to ‘no tax on tips' in ‘Big Beautiful Bill'
As part of the recently passed 'Big Beautiful Bill,' a sweeping budget proposal championed by former President Donald Trump, Section 70201 eliminates federal income tax on tips, but only up to a point.
Beginning in 2025, workers in tip-based jobs can deduct up to $25,000 in qualified tips from their taxable income. The deduction is set to last through the end of 2028. It applies only to cash or charged tips that are formally reported on IRS forms, such as W-2s or Form 4137.
Arkansas food relief groups brace for impact after SNAP cuts in 'One Big Beautiful Bill'
For Jordon O'Donald, a bartender at Brewski's in downtown Little Rock, the news sounded like a welcome break. She has worked in the industry for eight years and relies on tips to support her and her son.
'Some weeks it's $900 to $1,000, sometimes more, sometimes less,' she said. 'You really don't ever make the same money every single time.'
But her excitement quickly gave way to skepticism after hearing the fine print.
'Looking at it as a whole, it's honestly not the best,' she said. 'It sounds good, but I feel like we're just going to end up paying more money at the end of the year.'
O'Donald isn't alone in that concern. While the bill's headline suggests service workers will stop paying taxes on their tips, the reality is more complicated. Only the first $25,000 of qualified tips are exempt. Anything earned beyond that is still fully taxed.
And there are other restrictions:
The deduction phases out for single filers making over $150,000 and joint filers earning over $300,000.
Self-employed individuals must show a profit to qualify.
The business cannot fall under 'specified service trades' like law, accounting, consulting, or athletics.
Taxpayers must include a valid Social Security Number and, if married, file a joint return.
O'Donald says the cap could even discourage some workers from pushing past that $25,000 mark.
'Yes and no… because I feel like I would be striving to make under the $25,000 instead of trying to make over it,' she said.
Things to know about 'no tax on tips,' Trump's tax pledge that's in the GOP budget bill
The Treasury Department has been given 90 days to publish an official list of occupations that 'customarily and regularly' receive tips—something that may further limit who qualifies.
Still, supporters say the measure is a step toward giving frontline service workers more breathing room in a volatile industry.
But O'Donald offers a warning to anyone who's celebrating too soon.
'Yes, I feel like they would be excited,' she said. 'But like I tell everyone—read the fine print.'
Copyright 2025 Nexstar Media, Inc. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten, or redistributed.
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TechCrunch
a few seconds ago
- TechCrunch
Women are making real progress in venture capital, and the numbers prove it
A new report by the nonprofit All Raise found that the percentage of women and nonbinary individuals in partner roles at leading firms has doubled in the past few years, despite market headwinds. All Raise CEO Paige Hendrix Buckner chatted with TechCrunch's Dominic-Madori Davis about what's driving the shift on this week's Equity. 'There are two pieces to it,' she said of the progress being made for women. She said much of it is to do with firms looking to become more efficient and are looking to internally promote the best people within their firms. The second part is that firms realize the benefit of having a more diverse set of voices at the decision-making table. 'One, folks got in the door, and then number two, people were able to perform,' she continued. But there is still much work to be done. Compensation, for one, is still an issue. Also, megafirms, those managing more than $10 billion in assets, still do not have many women in those top partner roles. 'It takes time to change,' she said. Luckily, it looks like good news is already on the way. Listen to the full episode to hear: How investors are responding to the current DEI backlash The impact that women starting their own firms are having on the industry What progress All Raise hopes to see in the next five years Equity will be back Friday with our weekly news roundup, so stay tuned. Equity is TechCrunch's flagship podcast, produced by Theresa Loconsolo, and posts every Wednesday and Friday. Subscribe to us on Apple Podcasts, Overcast, Spotify and all the casts. You also can follow Equity on X and Threads, at @EquityPod.
New York Times
2 minutes ago
- New York Times
Kent Lacob is leaving the Warriors: How the owner's son came to a huge decision
SAN FRANCISCO — Kent Lacob's decision was settled. This was happening. But execution of his strategy, technically and emotionally, required telling his father. So he put himself on the calendar of the Golden State Warriors' CEO. This wasn't the kind of bomb to drop over dinner. This demanded its own slot. Advertisement The anxiousness grew palpable as soon as Kent started the drive from Chase Center to his dad's house. He'd made this trek so many times, it could feel monotonous, second nature enough for him to zone out in his Porsche Panamera and think about work as the Warriors' vice president of basketball development. But on this trip, he felt each thump of his heartbeat along the way. Highway 280 seemed to stretch ahead slowly for the 30-plus miles, elongating every curve. As the city's skyline disappeared into his rear view, swallowed up by his descent into the Peninsula's tree-lined wealth, the internal turbulence heightened. Every turn brought him closer to the man at the center of his world, the architect of the empire for which he is an heir. How would his father and boss respond to this play for independence? He arrived at his dad's home in Atherton, parked and went inside, like he's done countless times, heading straight to the home office, the place where blood and business mixed. His pops knew something was up. Why else would his son put himself on the calendar? The suspension ended immediately, as soon as the meeting started. Kent quit. Caught off guard, stunned by the revelation just before June's NBA Draft, Joe Lacob took a moment. He stared at his boy, processed the news, then uttered his initial response. 'Well,' he said, 'that took some balls.' Nothing is wrong. Nothing happened. Kent is adamant his departure isn't rooted in family drama. The opposite, he assures. He loves this so much. Basketball. The Warriors. The family pride. The pressure to maintain the standard of excellence they've built. Always competing with the privilege, though, is a tugging at his core. The part of him that's fully aware that every door he walks through is already open. His quiet disdain for the nepotism charges he can never shake, no matter how hard he works. Kent is a basketball nut who sometimes can't believe the dream he's living, working in the front office of the NBA. But even the glow of the Warriors can't rid the shadow of his father's enormity. Advertisement It's what convinced him he must leave it. For the last 10 years, he's lived in the NBA trenches. Constant flights. Lonely hotel rooms. Stinky gyms. Innumerable phone calls. Relentless slate of meetings. A small price to be behind the curtain, in the room where it happens. Kent's been part of three championships and is forever connected to one of the great eras in basketball history. Even sweeter, he worked shoulder to shoulder with his big brother, Kirk, living inside the world their father built, in part for them. But a decade engulfed in a world carved for him didn't exactly produce contentment. He's 32 now. He's getting married soon. And he couldn't live with himself if he didn't even try to make his own way. Attempt to exist, professionally, outside of Joe Lacob's world. 'I'm very curious about what else, what other type of perspective I can gain from stepping outside of that,' Kent said. 'I understand how it's attractive in many ways. Yeah, it's very comfortable. And I'm incredibly fortunate to have this. Not by my own doing. But I have stepped into a world that just put me in this situation to have all this around me. I'm incredibly grateful for it. But I also don't think that it necessarily gives me a fully robust perspective on life and what it is that I ultimately am going to want when I, like, reflect on what I did with my life.' Kent's hesitance to talk about this is tangible. His hands fidget with the table in the front-office conference room. He steals moments looking through the glass wall, as if the perfect explanation eluding him might be down on the empty Warriors practice court. His smile isn't coming as easily as usual. He knows this will be misunderstood. It will wind up another way to deride him for his privilege. He also knows the ability to walk away from an NBA front-office job, with nothing lined up, is a prime example of said privilege. He can't win for losing because his birthright won't let him lose. The Lacobs have all heard the comparisons to 'Succession,' the hit HBO show where the children of a media mogul — a quartet of heirs who relished their family's wealth — vied thirstily for the throne of their father's global conglomerate. But the Lacob offspring seem to bond more over their desire for an identity outside of the empire. Advertisement Kirk, 36, the eldest, is the outlier. He's all in. But arriving here was a process. He planned to start a tech company after Stanford. Shortly after graduating in 2010, his dad struck the deal to buy the Warriors. Kirk and Kent dreamed of working in the NBA, once reality crushed their dreams of playing. Kirk envisioned getting into a front office one day. Four months after graduating, he was Golden State's director of basketball operations. He didn't want the Warriors job at first because of how it would look. Then, five years later, after the first championship of this era, the same impetus prompted him to consider going to business school. But then, and each time leaving came up, he opted to stay. His father's message remained the same: Don't throw away a dream opportunity because you feel bad about how you got it. 'Does it bother me? Of course,' said Kirk, 37, wearing a violet Golden State Valkyries t-shirt beneath his quilted jacket as he stood outside the owner's suite at Chase Center. 'But I also get it. I mean, that is why I'm here. Our family bought the team. That happened. There's no running from that at all. … I think the nepotism thing, for me, it's more of a challenge. 'OK, you don't think I'm good enough?' Great. Now I've got to work harder. … But, to be clear, there are a lot of other things in life that are way harder than this.' Kelly, 35, second in line, never entered the NBA fray. She's currently the CEO of a startup, grinding away in her own world. As is Kayci, 30, the baby of the family. On Sept. 5, her movie 'Everything to Me' will make its debut in theaters. Originally titled 'The Book of Jobs' when it hit the film festival circuit, it's a coming-of-age film loosely based on her life growing up in Silicon Valley and her determination to be the next Steve Jobs. 'Everything to Me' has been a multi-year project requiring everything Kayci has to get across the finish line. She didn't lean on her dad's wealth and clout to get it done. But still. 'I can be the first to acknowledge I'm immensely privileged,' she said in a phone interview. 'Look, did I have the opportunity to go get some advice from (Warriors co-owner and film producer) Peter Guber? Yeah,' she said. 'He didn't fund my movie, and, if anything, he kind of tried to talk me out of it a little bit. But that advice and that relationship is more valuable than anything. So, of course, I have advantages.' Advertisement Her parents didn't really want her in the movie industry. They encouraged her to go it alone to fully comprehend the difficulty. Her mother, the late Laurie Lacob, also dabbled in the film industry. It wasn't until Kayci found her stride, she said, that they saw her vision. 'There's been times,' Kayci said, 'where I think, 'Am I wasting a huge opportunity? Would my life be easier by joining this company in some ways? Is it just the right thing to do?' … But to be honest, it was never my dream. I loved playing sports growing up, but I wasn't like my brothers.' Life in the shadow of a famous father — who was a venture capital star before becoming a public figure as the owner of an NBA dynasty — means more than inheriting the name, and the access it brings. It also means inheriting a narrative they didn't write. With wealth and exclusivity come expectations of success. Every achievement is coated in privilege. They're the lucky ones. Born into a bubble of resources and possibilities. Their norm is an extravagance most humans will never know. Their dreams perched above a safety net with a 1 percent chance of failure. Simultaneously, their independence is harder to secure. They scarcely know the fulfillment of starting from the bottom. The honor of self-made glory, near impossible to behold. And bequeathed confidence expires faster. That's why none of them are surprised at Kent's decision. It tracks. 'He's got that entrepreneurial spirit in him,' Joe Lacob said. 'He's got a wild hair up his ass a little bit more than some of the other kids.' Kent remains coy about his next move. His stated plan: Be open and free, see what the universe throws his way — instead of jumping into the next thing. He said it won't be another franchise. He can't see landing in a corporate setting. But the avid reader with a Bachelor of Science degree from the Philosophy-Neuroscience-Psychology program at Washington University in St. Louis will only say he has other interests. Advertisement In the Warriors' universe, outside interests collect dust. Especially when your last name is Lacob. 'When you're my kids,' Joe Lacob said, 'you worry about the nepotism charges, and I understand it. I've been on the other side. I know what it's like to look at the rich kid growing up with all of the advantages and whatever. So I understand why people say stuff like that. Now, I know my kids aren't that way.' They had to obsess over being good. Prove themselves. Kent loved that part. The immersion. The meter never shutting off. The process. The combination of long hours, short lunches and late nights with your friends is its own reward. He worked his way from the general manager of the Santa Cruz Warriors to a key cog in the Warriors' front office. He helped find and develop Juan Toscano-Anderson, swung and missed on Alen Smailagić, and rallied for the signing of Gary Payton II. It was all part of the endless hours of discussion, study and scouting that went into these moves. And the debates with Kirk. 'We get to rip on each other,' Kent said, 'give each other a hard time. Go through the serious stuff. Go through the fun stuff. It's been a blast.' But the decision to leave has been brewing over the years. He's talked about another life. Hinted at other things. He met Blake, his soon-to-be wife, in 2020. A ballet dancer, she injected a unique perspective into his life. Bob Myers, the head of basketball operations for 11 years, preached balance, encouraging his staff to have outside interests, take breaks from the hamster wheel, and prioritize family as much as possible. Kent worked closely with Myers, a mentee drawn to the holistic bent. So one can imagine the messaging Kent received when Myers walked away in May 2023, partly because of the elusiveness of balance in their world. Even more, the seismic jolt of his perspective when his mom died from a long battle with cancer a month later. Advertisement 'I think he really talked about this most with our mom,' Kayci said. 'I know they had a lot of conversations about it just because she was great. She cared so much about his personal fulfillment and was really understanding of both sides.' Kent changed. And so has the franchise. The front office had six people when he came aboard. It now has 44. Well, 43. 'It's going to be so foreign,' Kent said. 'But what gave me life was that feeling of, 'Oh man, I'm scared and nervous and I don't know what I'm doing. So now I have to figure it out.' I'm sort of excited to be back in that state of being uncomfortable and not having certainty of what's going to happen.' When he was preparing to tell his father, the uncertainty wasn't quite as inspiring. His father is reputed for his demanding style and combustible energy. He's a man who gets what he wants, and Kent knew his father wouldn't want him to leave. But the moment didn't produce the sparks he might've imagined. His revelation didn't provoke anger or disappointment. The boss transitioned to the father. Surprise gave way to understanding. And understanding produced pride. A pride Kent could see in his dad's eyes. 'I think sometimes your parents surprise you,' Kirk said. 'I think my dad definitely surprises people. People think of him in a very certain way, and he's not always the caricature that people portray him as.' Their father remembered his empire was built on risk. He remembered the desperation in his gut, pushing him to forge his own way. Joe remembered the voice of his father, who dropped out of college and worked at the same company for 40 years, in his ear: Don't be like me, Joe. I never took a risk. Those lessons, from their hard-knock life in New Bedford, Mass., helped build a kingdom so vast that Joe Lacob's children would never know deprivation. And what the father saw when Kent resigned was how their opulence didn't quench his son's drive. Success didn't breed complacency. He saw himself in Kent. Advertisement It's not the same desperation. Not even close. Kent's leap is more exploration than risk. But his father could see the hunger, the audaciousness. And he respected it. Giving his blessing was telling his son: Be like me. For Kent, doing that means leaving. (Top photo of Kent Lacob in 2018, when he was the Santa Cruz Warriors' general manager: Noah Graham / NBAE via Getty Images) Spot the pattern. Connect the terms Find the hidden link between sports terms Play today's puzzle
Forbes
2 minutes ago
- Forbes
Lightware Revolution: Powering Business With Quantum Coherence
Dr. Pravir Malik is the founder and technologist of QIQuantum and the Forbes Technology Council group leader for Quantum Computing. When Tony Hsieh and the Zappos leadership team asked me to scale up the 'Cosmology of Light' workshops—chronicled in a two-part Forbes series—at the end of 2019 to also target external audiences, the invitation felt audacious even by the company's boundary-shattering standards. In those months, hundreds of employees—and, once the pandemic hit, thousands of online participants—closed their eyes, envisioned a radiant sphere of light at their core and invited their most stubborn personal or professional challenges into that luminous space. What's striking is how the core shift facilitated in the workshop mirrors the process of quantum computation. Light-Algorithms And Quantum Computation Let's first look at quantum computation in more detail. It begins by placing qubits into states of superposition and entanglement, allowing simultaneous exploration of many computational pathways. These qubits then evolve coherently, guided by a carefully sequenced set of quantum gates—the components of the algorithm. As the system progresses, these pathways interfere: Incorrect paths cancel out, while correct ones are amplified. The algorithm's effectiveness depends on maintaining coherence throughout this evolution, so that constructive interference can clearly reveal the most probable—or optimal—outcome at the moment of measurement. Now, let's look at the parallels at the human level. In the workshop setting, a participant begins by envisioning a globe of light radiating from their center—an act that invites a surrender to the 'logic' of that light. As the mind and heart settle, inner dialogue quiets and judgment recedes, a field of expanded awareness emerges. This is the human equivalent of superposition: multiple possibilities becoming simultaneously perceptible. The challenge to be addressed is then consciously introduced into this luminous space, entangling with it. Verbal cues and subtle instructions from the facilitator act as quantum gates, shaping the evolution of the algorithm. A successful light-algorithm culminates in a distinct somatic shift—a felt bodily signal that the process has completed. To test its efficacy, participants are encouraged to apply the method to one of two similar real-life situations, leaving the other untouched, and observe which yields the more constructive outcome in the following weeks. Quantum Computation Across Scale In earlier Forbes writings—beginning with "Learning From An Atom-Based Quantum Computer"—I've proposed that if the atom functions as nature's foundational quantum computer, then so must molecules, and by logical extension, all complex structures: cells, organisms, ecosystems—even people. Why then wouldn't the light-algorithm at the heart of these workshops also be a legitimate quantum computational process? We often assume that the quantum and classical worlds are fundamentally disconnected. The quantum is 'weird'—governed by uncertainty, nonlocality and entanglement—while the macro-world is logical and ordered. But perhaps this split reflects more of a perceptual bias than a truth. What if the unpredictability, strange synchronicities and nonlinear leaps we witness in human life and organizations are not separate from quantum behavior but extensions of it—the same weirdness expressed at a different scale? If so, then many so-called quantum oddities may not be odd at all. They may simply be universal patterns we've failed to recognize as continuous across the micro and macro. This reframes both life and physics: The quantum becomes familiar, and the familiar reveals its quantum depths. The Emergence Of Lightware Recognizing people, teams and organizations as nature-based quantum computers—systems that, like their engineered counterparts, require coherence-enhancing tools—introduces a new imperative for technological design. Imagine enterprise platforms that detect cognitive overload and dynamically reconfigure workflows to restore team-wide quantum coherence. Envision wearable devices that convert biometric patterns into a real-time "quantum-coherence index," gently nudging users toward stillness, where insight becomes most probable. Take it further to participatory AIs, trained on thousands of light-algorithm transcripts, which design personalized quantum interventions for healing, insight and innovation. Such AI involvement may reveal that 'soft skills' such as mindfulness, empathy and psychological safety are, in fact, analogous to error correction, noise mitigation and decoherence controls, respectively. At the furthest edge of this vision lies a future where entire organizations operate not as hierarchies or even networks but as coherent light fields, where strategic intent propagates through resonance rather than reporting lines. Taken together, these scenarios describe an emerging category that can be called 'lightware'—technologies engineered not just to process information but to entrain quantum coherence across biological, social and digital strata. A Quantum Opportunity The timing for such a leap is fortuitous. Photonic and neutral-atom quantum processors are rapidly advancing toward error-corrected performance. As I explored in a previous Forbes article, a QIQD (quaternary interpretation of quantum dynamics) perspective suggests that when light interacts with atoms, it doesn't merely shift energy—it extracts meaning. This opens a profound technological opportunity: to leverage QIQD-informed photonic-atomic processors in the development of lightware. Meaning-based processing could provide the foundation for a new ontology—one capable of translating the petabytes of behavioral data generated by wearables and agentic large language models into actionable metrics of quantum coherence. As hybrid work proliferates and AI-driven automation accelerates, this approach offers a timely and necessary response to the rising demand for deeper, more resonant forms of engagement. Quantum coherence may offer a measurable, trainable indicator that transcends productivity dashboards and employee-sentiment polls. Venture funds are already scouting startups that translate quantum principles into leadership development, culture engineering and decision support. Expect seed rounds for coherence-analytics platforms within the next couple of years and Series A investments in hardware-software quantum-coherence bundles soon thereafter. Much as pocket calculators demystified arithmetic, lightware may render quantum 'weirdness' a daily business tool and urge executives to stop questioning whether quantum thinking applies to enterprise life and start asking how quickly they can deploy it. The question facing leaders now is simple: Will you wait for quantum coherence to emerge by accident, or will you design for it on purpose? Those who choose the latter may discover that technological leaps aren't just about speed, precision or control but about quantum coherence. And that the next great innovation won't just be built on silicon or code—but on light. Forbes Technology Council is an invitation-only community for world-class CIOs, CTOs and technology executives. Do I qualify?
