Latest news with #TEDTalks
Yahoo
5 days ago
- Business
- Yahoo
Opinion - Goodbye, Elon: A rich man takes his toys, then up and leaves
Elon Musk, we hardly knew ye. Mercifully. In a week where SpaceX had yet another 'rapid unscheduled disassembly,' so went Elon Musk's ultimate (we think?) departure from Washington. He is packing up his lobbyists, his hopes of moonlighting as a policy puppet-master, and heading back to where the Wi-Fi is strong and the regulations weak. And while his fans weep into their Dogecoin wallets, the rest of us — lawmakers, regulators, and the general population who prefer their billionaires less performatively chaotic — can give a sigh of relief. Good riddance, Elon. Musk's Beltway blitzkrieg never really worked. Despite the Tesla CEO's best efforts to ingratiate himself with both parties — inviting Republicans to his rocket factory one week and cozying up to Democrats the next — he always seemed like someone trying to crash a party to which he hadn't been invited. And now, he has announced that he's dialing back his political spending — on cue, like a gambler blaming the dealer and leaving the table after blowing his stack on bad bets. In an exclusive sit-down with CBS Sunday Morning, Musk declared he was 'disappointed' by the domestic policy bill passed last week by House Republicans — yes, Republicans — which came with a price tag he found distasteful. Never mind that the bill was heavily backed by none other than President Trump, his favorite on-again, off-again political prom date. Musk, the self-appointed champion of fiscal restraint, recoiled at the cost like someone shocked to find the champagne he ordered actually came with a bill. This comes from the same man who, until recently, had been the unofficial head of the Department of Government Efficiency — DOGE, naturally — an imaginary agency named after his favorite meme coin (because of course it was). For a while, Musk really seemed to think he could be the tech whisperer of Washington, giving TED Talks on the Hill and issuing policy edicts from his phone like a boy king with a satellite internet connection. He brought big ideas — universal basic income, Mars colonies, underground hyperloops — but he never stayed focused long enough to explain how any of them might actually work. In other contexts, he may have been a visionary. But in Washington, he wasn't a visionary — he was just a weird distraction. When he wasn't tweeting insults at sitting senators or live-fact-checking the FTC during dinner, he was poking the bear at every regulatory agency within a five-mile radius. His approach to governance was simple: move fast, break things, blame the deep state, and threaten to relocate your factory to the moon. He misunderstood Washington from the jump. He thought it was a marketplace for ideas when it's really a symphony of negotiation. He expected applause for disruption when the currency here is stability. So now he's doing what any billionaire does when he doesn't get his way—he's pouting, packing up, and going home. And you know what? That's just fine. Washington has enough on its plate — the AI arms race, data privacy nightmares, deepfakes of Joe Biden doing backflips off a tank. We don't need Elon Musk wandering around the Capitol like a Reddit post come to life, arguing with senators about pronouns and infrastructure. This isn't the last we'll hear from him, I'm sure. Musk is like glitter — loud, flashy, and impossible to fully clear away. He'll pop up in SEC filings, FCC dockets, and FDA debates over whether brain-chip side effects count as 'enhanced cognition.' He'll keep applying for government contracts while pretending government is the problem. But for now, the man himself is stepping back. That alone is worth celebrating. Because Musk never really wanted to shape policy — he wanted to shape mythology: the mythology of the ungovernable genius; of the lone innovator battling the forces of mediocrity (that is, public servants); of a future dependent not on collective progress, but on one guy with a phone and a flamethrower. He told us that the future would be built by visionaries like him. What he didn't say is that we'd all be paying for it with tax credits, federal grants, and the occasional Twitter meltdown. The real work of democracy is quiet, slow, and largely un-tweetable. It's people writing dense policy memos, updating transportation safety standards, holding three-hour committee hearings on battery disposal. It's not sexy, it's not livestreamed, and it sure as hell isn't driven by vibes. So if this is really it — if Elon Musk is heading back to Austin, Boca Chica, or whatever undisclosed bunker he's building to survive the apocalypse he helped accelerate — we should take the win. This is a chance to refocus on real solutions, not cults of personality; on ideas that outlive their inventors; on a system where progress isn't dictated by whims. Let us not mourn his absence. Let us remember it as a lesson — that being loud isn't being right, and that disruption, untethered from responsibility, is just noise. Don't let the spaceship door hit you on the way out. Aron Solomon is chief strategy officer for AMPLIFY and has taught entrepreneurship at McGill University and the University of Pennsylvania. Copyright 2025 Nexstar Media, Inc. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten, or redistributed.
The Hill
5 days ago
- Business
- The Hill
Goodbye, Elon: A rich man takes his toys, then up and leaves
Elon Musk, we hardly knew ye. Mercifully. In a week where SpaceX had yet another 'rapid unscheduled disassembly,' so went Elon Musk's ultimate (we think?) departure from Washington. He is packing up his lobbyists, his hopes of moonlighting as a policy puppet-master, and heading back to where the Wi-Fi is strong and the regulations weak. And while his fans weep into their Dogecoin wallets, the rest of us — lawmakers, regulators, and the general population who prefer their billionaires less performatively chaotic — can give a sigh of relief. Good riddance, Elon. Musk's Beltway blitzkrieg never really worked. Despite the Tesla CEO's best efforts to ingratiate himself with both parties — inviting Republicans to his rocket factory one week and cozying up to Democrats the next — he always seemed like someone trying to crash a party to which he hadn't been invited. And now, he has announced that he's dialing back his political spending — on cue, like a gambler blaming the dealer and leaving the table after blowing his stack on bad bets. In an exclusive sit-down with CBS Sunday Morning, Musk declared he was 'disappointed' by the domestic policy bill passed last week by House Republicans — yes, Republicans — which came with a price tag he found distasteful. Never mind that the bill was heavily backed by none other than President Trump, his favorite on-again, off-again political prom date. Musk, the self-appointed champion of fiscal restraint, recoiled at the cost like someone shocked to find the champagne he ordered actually came with a bill. This comes from the same man who, until recently, had been the unofficial head of the Department of Government Efficiency — DOGE, naturally — an imaginary agency named after his favorite meme coin (because of course it was). For a while, Musk really seemed to think he could be the tech whisperer of Washington, giving TED Talks on the Hill and issuing policy edicts from his phone like a boy king with a satellite internet connection. He brought big ideas — universal basic income, Mars colonies, underground hyperloops — but he never stayed focused long enough to explain how any of them might actually work. In other contexts, he may have been a visionary. But in Washington, he wasn't a visionary — he was just a weird distraction. When he wasn't tweeting insults at sitting senators or live-fact-checking the FTC during dinner, he was poking the bear at every regulatory agency within a five-mile radius. His approach to governance was simple: move fast, break things, blame the deep state, and threaten to relocate your factory to the moon. He misunderstood Washington from the jump. He thought it was a marketplace for ideas when it's really a symphony of negotiation. He expected applause for disruption when the currency here is stability. So now he's doing what any billionaire does when he doesn't get his way—he's pouting, packing up, and going home. And you know what? That's just fine. Washington has enough on its plate — the AI arms race, data privacy nightmares, deepfakes of Joe Biden doing backflips off a tank. We don't need Elon Musk wandering around the Capitol like a Reddit post come to life, arguing with senators about pronouns and infrastructure. This isn't the last we'll hear from him, I'm sure. Musk is like glitter — loud, flashy, and impossible to fully clear away. He'll pop up in SEC filings, FCC dockets, and FDA debates over whether brain-chip side effects count as 'enhanced cognition.' He'll keep applying for government contracts while pretending government is the problem. But for now, the man himself is stepping back. That alone is worth celebrating. Because Musk never really wanted to shape policy — he wanted to shape mythology: the mythology of the ungovernable genius; of the lone innovator battling the forces of mediocrity (that is, public servants); of a future dependent not on collective progress, but on one guy with a phone and a flamethrower. He told us that the future would be built by visionaries like him. What he didn't say is that we'd all be paying for it with tax credits, federal grants, and the occasional Twitter meltdown. The real work of democracy is quiet, slow, and largely un-tweetable. It's people writing dense policy memos, updating transportation safety standards, holding three-hour committee hearings on battery disposal. It's not sexy, it's not livestreamed, and it sure as hell isn't driven by vibes. So if this is really it — if Elon Musk is heading back to Austin, Boca Chica, or whatever undisclosed bunker he's building to survive the apocalypse he helped accelerate — we should take the win. This is a chance to refocus on real solutions, not cults of personality; on ideas that outlive their inventors; on a system where progress isn't dictated by whims. Let us not mourn his absence. Let us remember it as a lesson — that being loud isn't being right, and that disruption, untethered from responsibility, is just noise. Don't let the spaceship door hit you on the way out. Aron Solomon is chief strategy officer for AMPLIFY and has taught entrepreneurship at McGill University and the University of Pennsylvania.
The Guardian
27-05-2025
- Entertainment
- The Guardian
If Ted Talks are getting shorter, what does that say about our attention spans?
Name: Ted Talks Age: Ted started in 1984. And has Ted been talking ever since? Ted – short for Technology, Entertainment, Design – is an American-Canadian non-profit media organisation that has an annual conference … I know, and they do the inspirational online talks. Correct, under the slogan 'Ideas change everything'. Anyway, what about them? They're shorter. The talks? Than what? Than before. How much shorter? Six minutes. Says who? Says Elif Shafak. The Turkish-British novelist? Novelist, essayist, public speaker, activist. She was talking at the Hay festival, in Wales. What did she say? That when she first did a Ted Talk she was given a limit of 19 minutes, but a decade later she was told to keep it to a trim 13. Why? That's what she asked Ted. And Ted said? According to Shafak, TED said: 'Well, the world's average attention span has shrunk.' How did that make her feel? 'Really sad. We are incapable of listening to a talk for more than a few minutes.' She went on to say that it was because we are living 'in an age of hyper-information'. Too much to take in? Exactly. 'We cannot process this much information,' she continued. 'And in the long run it makes us tired, demoralised, then numb because we stop caring.' My god, sounds terminal. Is it true, that our attention spans have shrunk? A lack of long-term studies means we don't know for sure, but the public seems to think it has. Tell me more. But get on with it. A study by King's College London in 2022 found that 49% of people believe their attention spans have become shorter, 50% say they can't stop checking their phones … Young people probably. Nope. Also a struggle for the middle-aged. And 50% of people also believed – wrongly – that the average attention span for adults today is just eight seconds. Sorry, what were we talking about again? Short attention spans. Oh yes. I knew that. What about books though, are they getting shorter too? Well, interestingly, a 2015 study suggested the opposite, that they were 25% longer than they were 15 years earlier. I'm sensing there's a but coming. But the longlist for this year's International Booker includes eight books that are less than 200 pages. What about films, they're definitely getting longer, right? The short answer: no. Slightly longer answer: again, we just think they are, probably because of marketing. Studios want to incentivise people to spend money on a ticket, which they do by telling you it's big, epic and special. Hang on, so we think attention is going down but it might not be, and films are getting longer, but they're not? Very perceptive. Someone should do a Ted Talk about it. Do say: 'Can you even change everything in 13 minutes?' Don't say: 'Hurry up, you're losing the room.'
Forbes
22-05-2025
- General
- Forbes
3 Surprising Habits Of The World's Greatest TED Speakers
The road to public-speaking success on a TED stage is paved with small steps and deliberate practice. When you watch a speaker whose TED Talk has attracted millions of views, it's easy to think the person is a 'natural.' In most cases, the opposite is true. Great speakers make it look effortless because they put a lot of effort into making it great. When I interview TED speakers, especially those who are sought-after business speakers, they acknowledge that their confidence on the big stage came after years of practice on smaller stages. For example, famed astronaut Chris Hadfield gave a TED Talk about 'going blind in space' that attracted tens of millions of views. During a spacewalk, a chemical in his suit forced his eyes shut. Hadfield remained completely calm, discovered the source of the problem, and fixed it. When I asked Hadfield during an interview how he developed extreme confidence on stage, he said mastering public speaking wasn't all that different from learning any other skill—including a spacewalk. It takes time and practice…in small steps. Hadfield reminded me that, as one of the few Canadian astronauts, he was popular on the speaking circuit and had accepted speaking invitations for decades. He honed his craft in lower-pressure situations, from classrooms to business luncheons. The same strategy applies to high-stakes and high-pressure speaking opportunities such as giving a TED talk or delivering a presentation to attract investors or customers. Small steps yield big results. Susan Cain, the bestselling author of Quiet, told me in an interview that public speaking did not come naturally to her. In fact, she was terrified of public speaking for much of her career. Before Cain gave an 18-minute talk on 'The Power of Introverts,' one of the most popular TED Talks of all time, she had spent more than a decade as a lawyer and consultant. During the seven years between the time she started researching her book and appearing on TED, she attended Toastmasters meetings and spoke in front of small groups. 'The way to overcome any fear, but particularly public speaking, is to expose yourself to the fear in very small doses,' Cain told me. 'You can't start out by giving TED Talks. If you're a nervous speaker, your brain is acting like you're staring down a saber-toothed tiger. You need to get enough successful experiences in small bites that you retrain your brain, so it sees the stage as more like a daffodil than a tiger.' Cain still finds it remarkable that she doesn't dread public speaking anymore. In fact, she finds it 'enjoyable.' It might be hard to imagine now, but you can enjoy public speaking, too. The secret is taking tiny, consistent steps to build your confidence. Dr. Jill Bolte-Taylor, a Harvard-trained neuroscientist, once told me she rehearsed her TED Talk more than 200 times. 'My Stroke of Insight' has been viewed more than thirty million times, making it one of the most-watched TED Talks ever. Now, you certainly don't need to practice a presentation hundreds of times. I often find that rehearsing a presentation from start to finish at least ten times prepares me to perform my best. But Dr. Jill's experience reinforces the lesson that speakers who look effortless have put in many more reps than you might think. Great speakers don't just practice more than the average person. They practice deliberately by simulating real-world conditions. For example, if your next presentation requires that you stand up in front of a group with a PowerPoint presentation on display behind you, then rehearse like it's the real thing. Don't simply flip through the slides silently to yourself. Instead, stand up, put a clicker in your hand, and speak out loud. If you mess up or forget to make a point, keep going to the end because, in the real setting, you're not going to start over. The more times you can make yourself feel just a little uncomfortable—adding a slight bit of stress to your rehearsals—the more your confidence will grow. When showtime comes along, you'll be ready for it. Public speaking sparks fear in most people because it's a by-product of our evolutionary heritage. It triggers the fight-or-flight response, which makes your palms sweat and your heart beat faster. As Susan Cain said, there's only one proven solution: train your brain to see the audience as a daffodil, not a tiger.
Yahoo
21-05-2025
- Business
- Yahoo
TED's app launches a short-form video feature ahead of potential TikTok ban
With TikTok still facing the possibility of a ban in the U.S., the popularity of short-form video content continues to grow. The latest company to enter this space is TED, the non-profit best known for its TED Talks featuring prominent figures like Bill Gates, Elon Musk, Jeff Bezos, and the late Pope Francis. On Wednesday, the company announced its new short-form video feature, aptly named 'TED Shorts.' The feature has gradually rolled out to users since the beginning of May. Available on both iOS and Android devices, TED Shorts can be found in the middle of the navigation bar. By tapping the button, users are taken to a swipeable vertical feed featuring short snippets of TED Talks and other original content. Users can like videos, leave comments, and share with friends. TED teamed up with Genuin, a no-code platform for generative video experiences, to power the TikTok-like feature. As Genuin explained to TechCrunch, TED's new feed will be personalized with AI, curating a selection of videos based on factors like personal interests, trending subjects, and other signals to surface the most relevant content for each viewer. TED Shorts is one of the more notable additions to the app, which hasn't seen a significant update in its 15-year history. Since its launch in 2010, the app has primarily served as a destination for users to access TED Talks and other content via their mobile devices, such as educational animations and 26 podcasts spanning various topics like business, climate, and health. The new feature offers a way for users to discover highlights of their favorite speakers before committing to a full-length video. This is also the first time users can engage with one another within the TED app, fostering a sense of community that may have been previously lacking. TED already has a substantial following on YouTube (26.1 million), TikTok (2.8 million), Instagram (8.1 million), and other social media channels, indicating a demand for short video content. The launch of TED Shorts comes at a crucial time as the app seeks to boost its growth. Head of Product Tricia Maia tells TechCrunch that the app had been deprioritized 'for several years,' which impacted its monthly active users and annual growth metrics. According to Appfigures, the app was downloaded 1 million times in 2024, a 17% decline compared to 1.2 million installs in 2023. To date, the company boasts more than 30 million app downloads globally. TED joins a growing number of companies adopting short-form video content as platforms compete for users' attention. Earlier this month, Netflix revealed that it's experimenting with a short video feed for its mobile app. Meanwhile, TikTok faces a potential ban in mid-June, although President Trump plans to extend the deadline for a third time as deal negotiations continue. Should U.S. users lose access to TikTok, they might seek alternative platforms, and TED hopes they'll turn to what it believes is higher-quality content compared to what's found on other apps. 'In an era of fragmented attention, people are actively seeking more thoughtful, less overwhelming ways to connect with new ideas, and with each other,' Maia said. '[TED Shorts] is our antidote to algorithm fatigue and doom-scrolling low-quality content.' The company plans to continue evolving TED Shorts over time to meet user needs while also exploring new ways to enhance community building. Maia added, 'We'll explore ways to add new community features, and expand community-driven features to other TED platforms, like our website … This could expand beyond video and mobile to a cross-platform community engagement experience where our audience won't just watch videos, but can participate in truly personalized, topic-driven digital communities on a global scale.' This article originally appeared on TechCrunch at Error in retrieving data Sign in to access your portfolio Error in retrieving data Error in retrieving data Error in retrieving data Error in retrieving data
