The author hasn't lied to her daughter, even about Santa. Courtesy of the author I've made it nearly 10 years into motherhood without telling my daughter a lie. I don't believe in white lies, even when telling the truth makes parenting harder. I think being honest has helped my daughter trust me and brought us closer together. From where I stand, it seems like most parents lie to their kids, at least once in a while. I am of the mindset that lying, whether to adults or to children, is wrong. Because I view it this way, I am uncomfortable with it and refuse to do it. My husband respects my stance, though he doesn't always follow suit and has told our child a handful of lies. But in the past decade since I became a mom, I have managed to avoid it. I don't think I'm better than other parents, and I don't think anyone else is bad for harmless untruths. I just knew going into this that I wanted to approach parenting differently in a lot of ways, and this is just one of them. Not lying doesn't equal to sharing every detail This doesn't mean I divulge every secret. Kids don't need to know every detail about everything, even when they ask questions. I was rather vague when she wondered why one of our relatives split up with her husband less than a year after the marriage, for example: "He did something really bad, and it hurt her a lot. She's not able to forgive him," I said, that was the end of the conversation. The author's daughter asked her if Santa was real. Courtesy of the author I believe it is OK to keep some things a mystery indefinitely, to delay certain conversations or, when choosing to reveal things, to do so in an age-appropriate way (for example, where do babies come from?). But as far as not speaking any falsehoods, I have been consistent. She asked me if Santa was real I didn't tell her that Santa existed, but of course, as a toddler, she started believing through other friends, family, and Christmas marketing. I thought it was lovely and let her believe. Why spoil her fun? But when she was a little older and asked me point blank if Santa was real, I replied in a curious tone "Hmmm, what do you think?" and instead it turned a situation where she started wondering aloud and trying to reason whether it was possible. I listened in the car, nodding along in the parent drop-off line at school. I also told her that a lot of people — including kids in her class — do believe in Santa, so it wouldn't be nice for their parents if she expressed her doubts to her peers. She agreed and went along to the classroom. Granted, I got lucky that it went in this direction. I was able to stay true to my "no direct lies" approach while not shattering a very magical childhood belief — one I remember fondly from my own youth. And other common ones — like lying about a pet fish dying, or telling the truth when asked about a dinner ingredient, knowing there'd be resistance, or whether I remembered to do everything she asked of me — I don't lie about those either. The author doesn't lie about what's in her daughter's food either. Courtesy of the author These were not always easy conversations (those situations alone resulted in her first lesson about death, her stubbornness to try some foods, and me disappointing her and admitting that "no sorry, I didn't babysit your stuffy while you were at school; I forgot this time."). Honesty has brought us closer together If she questions what I think of the makeup she did on my face, I enthusiastically compliment her creativity and say how fun it was to be in her makeover chair; I don't lie and say that the electric pink eyeshadow is the best color ever. I feel that it has built more trust between us and brought us closer. She knows that when she asks mommy something, I'm going to be straight up with her. She doesn't seem to doubt me or second-guess what I say. As a parent, I understand that we are wired to protect our children. But with lying, I think parents are often trying to protect themselves. We want things to be easier, understandably. We want to say the place is closed instead of just telling the truth that we are just too tired to take them today. We want to tell our kid, "Yeah, the spider is gone now, honey," so they'll sleep well instead of saying that I actually have no idea where it went. But avoiding discomfort is not a strong enough reason for me to lie to my daughter. It's not just that I believe lying is immoral; it's also about feeling that she deserves the truth. Plus, if honesty is one of the values that I'm trying to teach her, I want to set a good example by being honest with her. Read the original article on Business Insider

Giovanni Colantonio / Polygon: An interview with Apple's new VP of the App Store, Carson Oliver, on Apple's gaming vision, Apple Arcade, providing tools for indie game developers, and more  —  Back when Apple Arcade launched in 2019, there was a resounding belief among gamers that the mobile gaming service wasn't long for this world.

Plus: an OpenAI agent that spent money it didn’t own, why one CTO wants AI that explains itself, and agents get their own accounts

The author works in AI and is feeling burned out. Courtesy of Santiago Barraza Lopez I'm a lawyer who decided to work in AI to try to get ahead of this technological curve. Over the last two years, I've struggled to keep up because AI is advancing faster than I expected. I feel overwhelmed and burned out by the constant conversations around AI. For most of my career, I was a lawyer. There was something reassuring about how expertise worked in law. The longer I practiced, the more I knew. But after years in a demanding profession, I burned out. It wasn't that I stopped enjoying law. I just needed a change. Around two years ago, I started shifting my career toward AI because I thought it was the future. I didn't want to wake up 10 years later and realize technology had changed my profession without me. It seemed like the smartest career move I could make. Now, I'm not so sure. Joining the AI boom early seemed like the perfect career move I made the transition while the AI boom was still gaining momentum. Ironically, I landed a job at a legal tech company thanks to a conversation with ChatGPT. It seemed like the perfect opportunity to combine my experience with my growing interest in tech. My role involved testing the most advanced models, comparing their capabilities, and exploring how they could be used in legal work. I felt like I was ahead of a major change rather than trying to catch up with it. I also became the go-to person for anything AI-related among my family and friends. People would ask me which tools to use, whether AI would replace their jobs, or what I thought about the latest developments. I enjoyed being the person who seemed to understand something that everyone was suddenly talking about. But that feeling didn't last as long as I expected. Slowly, I began to realize that this wasn't just another new technology. It was something evolving at an almost frightening pace. And being close to it didn't necessarily mean being able to keep up with it. What initially felt like an advantage was gradually becoming a source of pressure. Things that took me weeks to learn or build became obsolete almost overnight New frontier AI models and companies seemed to arrive every few weeks, each promising capabilities that the previous lacked. Just as I began understanding one model, another would appear, forcing me to reconsider everything I thought I knew about what AI could and couldn't do. There was barely enough time to breathe before "the next big thing" came. What frustrated me most was how quickly my own work could lose its value. I spent weeks developing solutions to problems that a newer model could suddenly solve within a few minutes. Things I had carefully learned a couple of months earlier became unnecessary after a single product announcement. It was strange to put so much effort into something only to discover that the technology had already overtaken me. And the constant learning didn't stop when I finished work. AI was everywhere. It was in the news, on social media, in conversations with friends, and in almost every discussion about the future of work. Sometimes, after spending an entire day testing models, the last thing I wanted to hear about was another breakthrough. Yet I still felt an obligation to read about it, afraid that missing a single development could leave me even further behind. I was getting tired. Accepting uncertainty became the only way forward For years, I had measured my professional progress by how much I knew and how confident I felt about my abilities. AI challenged that completely. I began to question whether being good at my job meant knowing the latest developments or simply knowing how to adapt as everything changed. It was uncomfortable to accept that experience and hard work might not always provide the certainty I was used to. I also started questioning how much of my personal time I was willing to sacrifice to stay relevant. I didn't want every conversation, evening, or weekend to become another opportunity to learn or talk about AI. I began making a conscious effort to disconnect after work, even if that meant missing an announcement or falling behind on the latest developments. For the first time, I was choosing not to know everything. I don't regret moving into AI, but I no longer feel as certain about the decision as I once did. The technology isn't going to slow down. All I know for sure is that we are living through one of the most important inflection points in recent history, and perhaps that's what makes it all so overwhelming. Read the original article on Business Insider

Samuel Corum/Pool/FTWP This post originally appeared in the BI Today newsletter. You can sign up for Business Insider's daily newsletter here. The credibility concern When questions began swirling about new (and now former) White House press secretary Katie Zacharia's legal credentials, a colleague asked the obvious question: Why should anyone care? She was hired to be President Donald Trump's spokesperson, not his lawyer. Does it really matter if she overstated her qualifications? It does. She was let go on Friday, five days after starting the job. That's half the time Anthony Scaramucci infamously lasted as White House communications director during Trump's first term. Zacharia was widely panned for her performance during her first (and final) press briefing on Monday, as well as for misrepresenting herself as a lawyer. In workplaces, it turns out, bending the truth about one's background is not only problematic, but more common than you might think. And it can carry real consequences. BI's Sarah Needleman spoke with recruiters and found research suggesting that résumé inflation is very much a thing. A recent survey found 37% of respondents had included inaccurate information on a résumé, according to Novorésumé, an online résumé-building service. Nearly 7% said they claimed a degree, certification, or credential they didn't actually have. The trouble, of course, is that a small embellishment can raise much bigger questions. Brian Fink, a managing partner at tech recruiting firm The ReWork Group, told Sarah he rescinded an offer to someone after a background check couldn't verify certain information on the candidate's résumé and LinkedIn profile. "If you're willing to lie about your education," Fink said, "what else are you willing to lie about?" Corporate America is full of cautionary tales. Over the years, executives at Samsonite, Walmart, and Yahoo, among others, misrepresented their backgrounds and ultimately lost their jobs as a result. Credentials matter. They are a promise of basic trust. Once that trust is called into question, it's really hard to win it back. Read the original article on Business Insider

Amid a wave of backlash, some industry-friendly groups are employing creative and time-tested strategies to woo the youth.

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The Decayed Brigade, a team of haunt sliders that appears at Hersheypark. Hersheypark Hersheypark's "haunt sliders" — scare actors who slide on knee pads — have gained a fanbase on TikTok. "The makeup stays ON" commented one thirsty fan. The attention has translated to good business for the park, who has seen growing ticket sales for its Dark Nights event. Imagine you're walking around an amusement park in October while it's Halloween themed. The air is crisp, you've got a giant pretzel, you're strolling with friends to get in line for the roller coaster. Out of the corner of your eye, you see tall man dressed in all black with skeletal face paint walking towards you. Suddenly, he leaps to the ground on all fours, and against everything you've known in your life about how human beings ambulate, he slides across the pavement on his hands and knees, coasting right up beside you at an incredible speed. Depending on who you are and your level of awareness of the "haunt sliders" of Hersheypark, this fast encounter leaves you either terrified or terrifyingly horny. @itzarcher PUMPKINN @thrillsandmagic @Hersheypark #fyp #darknights2025 #decayedbrigade #viral #itzarcher ♬ original sound - itzarcher Since 2021, Hershey's amusement park has employed a group of haunt sliders from a crew that calls itself the "Decayed Brigade" for its Dark Nights Halloween event that runs in September and October. Videos of Fryboy and his lookalike Archer, and others have racked up millions of views and created a dedicated fan base who travel from around the world just to see the creepy, sexy, slidey guys they saw on TikTok. And their online popularity is good for Hershey's bottom line. "The comment section [on TikTok] is a treasure trove of insight into their popularity. I mean, we have seen people saying, 'I am coming from Europe. I'm coming from Australia. I had no idea Hersheypark existed, but now, because this was served to me on TikTok, I'm aware,'" said Quinn Bryner, a spokesperson for Hersheypark. Archer, a haunt slider at Hersheypark Hersheypark "We have people who have bought our season passes because of it," she added. "So anecdotally, for sure, it has had a significant social commentary, which we think has also led to tickets." Bryner cautioned they can't say that the haunt sliders popularity is the sole driver of the growth of the Halloween event, but that the Dark Nights has become a success and grown year over year in attendance and ticket sales. "We can confirm that the event's popularity in the past few years has allowed us to expand operating days throughout the fall, resulting in total Halloween attendance doubling the numbers achieved prior to 2021," she said. @hersheypark We're SO back 🙌🔥 #Hersheypark #fyp #halloween #amusementpark #decayedbrigade ♬ original sound - Hersheypark For the last three years, Fryboy and some of the sliders do a meet-and-greet for the diehard fans after the performance on weekend nights. Fans wait up to an hour in line to meet them and take photos with the sliders (or purchase keychains or other photo prints from the professional photography service the park provides, which has taken over 4,000 photos for fans this fall so far). The three sliders I interviewed — who asked not to publicize their full legal names because they are concerned about overzealous fans — have breached containment from something that happens inside the park gates to a full-blown social media phenomenon. The sliders have anecdotally noticed the effects of TikTok on the crowds in the park. "This year especially, it feels like every other person's coming up saying they drove eight-plus hours to come see us or they just came for us," Fryboy said. "We see them sit in our zone the whole night and it's pretty obvious that they just want to watch us," Valkyrie noticed. Hersheypark is well aware of the Decayed Brigade's social media success, which is clear even on its own social channels. The most viewed videos on park's official TikTok channel were all of the sliders — even during the off-season. Haunt sliding dates back decades Haunt sliding has been a part of Knott's Scary Farm, the Halloween event at amusement park in southern California, for decades. A few of the performers working there figured out they could modify knee pads and gloves with metal pieces to allow them to slide up on guests as a novel way to scare them. Sliding became a staple of Knott's Scary Farm, and the trend spread out around the country to various haunted theme parks and cornfields. It evolved into something more than just a scare tactic, with increasingly athletic stunts, choreography, and showcases during the off-season. Although haunt sliding has become a haunted house mainstay, there is no group of performers who have attracted as much attention from people who never set foot in Hersheypark as the Decayed Brigade crew. This year, there are eight sliders, but Fryboy and Archer — both well over six feet tall, lanky, and with poufy dark hair — seem to have garnered the biggest online fandom. @fryboydb We didn’t check. @itzarcher @Jet ♬ original sound - chicolantern When I spoke over a video call with Fryboy, Archer, and Valkerie, the current sole female performer in this year's crew, it was the hour before the park opened on a Friday night at 6 p.m., and they were in their full faces of makeup (they have a makeup artist on staff who does it for them), but not their performance clothes. Fryboy, whose real first name is Carter, is not technically the leader or founder of Decayed Brigade, although he has become the most visible online and has been working at Hersheypark since Dark Nights started in 2021. He first saw sliders at Knott's Scary Farm when he was 13, and was inspired to start trying it out on his own at home. By 16, he got hired at a local haunted house in Florida, and eventually landed a job at Knott's in 2018. "When sliding first started, it was mainly just a scare tactic and it wasn't really anything crazy, but once people started doing it more and more, a lot of the guys that started sliding at Knott's were stunt performers, so they would do little pre-shows before their stunt show was sliding," Fryboy explained. "They'd go out there and they'd do little rolls, and then they'd start jumping bodies, and then now they're jumping two, three, four bodies. So then tricks started getting added into it, and over time, a group was formed." "I really think in this case, Carter took it upon himself to create his own iconic character in the social space and then share it amongst an audience that loves scare, but didn't have a way to maybe communicate and build on that," said Brewer Lister, managing director of immersive experiences at Hersheypark. "He's built a following, and then he and his team have added to it by becoming more of a team in a group, especially Archer, the two of them," he added. "I think they tapped into a growth factor of what's taken place over the many years in social media in a particular realm, and it's worked." Their fans are…thirsty Fryboy, a haunt slider at Hersheypark Hersheypark It is crucial to explain here that the internet viral around the Hersheypark haunt sliders is not just an appreciation of a good scare. It is extremely horny. The TikToks from fans are often set to suggestive music clips, and the comment sections are bawdy. In one video from last fall of Fryboy and Archer standing together, set to the chorus of "Same Damn Time" by Future, comments say things like "Fryboy looks like he talks you thru it. Archer looks like he know how to do that thing your ex couldn't do." (18.3k likes) and "the makeup stays ON" (160.8k likes). In another video from this month of the two men, one commenter says, "Ok maybe my ex was right and i'm actually ill." The allure of scare actors in face paint might not seem obvious. But hear these women out: They're tall, athletic, and mysterious. That's enough. The thirst isn't limited just to the male sliders. On one video of Valkyrie walking through the park in slow motion, comments from women pour in: "Me and my husband aren't that serious." "I DIDN'T KNOW THIS WAS AN OPTION," and "i was already hooked but when she smiled i lost all control." I asked Fryboy about getting that kind of attention. "I think at the end of the day, we're just trying to perform and have a good time, and it's Halloween, we're dressing up as characters, so there's always going to be something along those lines, I think," he said. "But it's definitely not the end goal in any sort of way." The sex appeal of the sliders seems to be an accidental collision with a current trend of "dark romance" and romantasy that's popular on Booktok. However, threading the needle of adding sex appeal into a haunted house seems fraught. SeaWorld Orlando's attempted a dark romance themed scare zone, but videos of bare-chested scare actors in masks (including at least one slider) awkwardly gesturing at guests went viral for being high on cringe and low on actual eroticism. The difference with the Decayed Brigade is they claim they're not intending to be sexy. "Halloween has always been the holiday for the weirdos, and we're the weirdos," said Fryboy. "We embrace it just as much as I'm sure everyone else wants to embrace it." Read the original article on Business Insider

When the author's dad died, she reevaluated her approach to work. Courtesy of Tayla Blaire I used to push myself at work, outearning myself year after year. When my dad died, and I heard how people talked about him, I reevaluated my approach. Now, I still make enough to cover what I need, but I'm living a fuller life. I'm a reformed workaholic. I'd love to say I slowly came to realize that my value isn't monetary or based on how high I can climb a ladder, but that epiphany wasn't achieved in a growth-centric way. Instead, it was a surprising side effect of losing my dad suddenly in September 2024. He was there, and just like that, he was gone. And my willingness to burn myself out died that day, too. In the flurry of administrative chaos and world-wrecking grief that follows sudden death, it took a while for me to notice the change. It was normal to work less while grieving. Except it's now almost two years later — and yes, I'm still very much grieving — but I am back in the flow of working. And it looks completely different. I had been working hard for years When I was balancing full-time teaching with a writing side hustle, I regularly pulled ridiculous hours, working from 7 am until late at night. Not only that, but I was also frequently working both weekend days and throughout school vacation. I even had an accident in May 2024 that put me out of work while my arm was in a sling to help the broken bones heal, but once I was back, I hit my highest earning month of all time. But then my dad died, and I just don't care the way I used to. There wasn't an inheritance that suddenly made working optional. And it's not all-consuming depression either — the months that followed were immensely dark, but I'm doing really well from a mental health perspective now. Instead, there's been a reshuffling of priorities. My identity fundamentally shifted in 2024. I came entirely too close to dying in an accident while riding horses, where doctors couldn't fathom how I survived without paraplegia, and then, mere months later, my dad had a heart attack at 65. The way people spoke about my dad made me want to live a fuller life The eulogies poured in for my dad, who was a beloved doctor. Hundreds of people messaged us, telling stories of my dad's generosity, his kindness, adventurous spirit, talent, sense of humor, and utter chaos. The sheer number of anecdotes was almost mythical, as it seemed impossible that someone could do so much with their time. My dad even started kitesurfing in his 50s because he thought it would be cool, and regularly drove hours out of town to reach the nearest dam to do it. His last kiting session was the week before he died. He was an astronomer, a chess player, an artist, a rugby fanatic, a dear friend, a dedicated husband, and the best dad anyone could wish for. It made me look at my own life. I was out-earning myself, year after year. But I lived in a city that gave me little joy, and my hobbies were…well, just reading. And often, I was only reading self-help books to help me earn more or be more productive. It's not that I took a step back from work. I just didn't step forward again. I have ongoing luxury travel copywriting clients. I still do a fair bit of journalism and a little bit of coaching essay writers. I ensure I earn enough to make ends meet — pay my mortgage, set aside money for my retirement, health insurance, and so on, but that's it. Once that goal is met each month, my foot comes off the accelerator, and I focus on life instead. I moved to the coast and qualified as an advanced open water scuba diver. I knock off early on Fridays to hit the beach if it's a nice day, and I'm dabbling in surfing. I've started lifting weights. I have more friends than I've ever had before. I've started painting, and my guitar has been dusted off and tuned again. I don't have it all worked out. I'm still trying to figure out what life without my dad can possibly look like. I just know how much life he crammed into the years he had, and the best way I can honor him is to try to do the same. Read the original article on Business Insider

Warren Buffett is the former CEO and chairman of Berkshire Hathaway. Paul Morigi/Getty Images for Fortune/Time Inc Berkshire Hathaway is set to invest $330 million in Bending Spoons, adding to its previous $600 million. Warren Buffett's storied conglomerate is poised to hold a 4% stake in the owner of AOL and Vimeo. Berkshire's wager is a surprise, but there's some DNA in common with Bending Spoons. Berkshire Hathaway's latest bet isn't a no-brainer or a head-scratcher; it's somewhere in between. What's the deal? Berkshire — which has seen Warren Buffett retire as CEO and chairman since the turn of the year — has agreed to invest $330 million in Bending Spoons, on top of a $600 million injection when the Italian tech conglomerate went public in July, giving the Nebraska behemoth a 4% stake. Bending Spoons disclosed Berkshire's backing in a press release on Wednesday, catapulting its stock up nearly 50% over two days, a phenomenon known as the "Buffett effect." The stock fell on Friday, but still ended the week more than 20% above Monday's opening price. Berkshire has agreed to buy 10 million shares for $33 each, around a 13% discount to Bending Spoons' closing price of $38 on Tuesday, the day before the deal was announced. CEO and cofounder Luca Ferrari described Berkshire in the press release as "among the finest and most respected capital allocators in the world," and a "longstanding inspiration" for Bending Spoons. Neither company responded to requests for comment from Business Insider. What is Bending Spoons? Bending Spoons acquires digital businesses, transforms and optimizes them to increase profits, then reinvests those earnings in further acquisitions. It has been pursuing that strategy for more than a decade and has never sold a material business. Its acquisitions to date include AOL, Evernote, Vimeo, Eventbrite, and WeTransfer. Ferrari's company said in the press release that it "strives to envision the most successful version of an acquired business," then works to close the gap between that vision and reality "as quickly and completely as possible." Bending Spoons said that typically involves "deep" transformation such as "reorganizing teams, overhauling technology, redesigning user interfaces, accelerating product development, and enhancing marketing and monetization," often with a good dose of AI. Ferrari gave the example of Evernote on a recent episode of the "Joys of Compounding" podcast. He said the business had around 350 employees when Bending Spoons acquired it at the start of 2023. That shrank to roughly 60 within 12 to 18 months, and now it's being run by around 20 people. Yet Ferrari said Evernote "launched by far the biggest update to the product in maybe a decade" this spring. Bending Spoons CEO Luca Ferrari. Marco Bertorello / AFP via Getty Images Why is Berkshire's investment a surprise? First and foremost, Bending Spoons is a tech conglomerate, and Berkshire has eschewed tech for most of its history with a few big exceptions, namely Apple and Alphabet. That's because Buffett is a bargain hunter who likes to invest with a "margin of safety" in case something goes wrong, and tries to stay within his "circle of competence," only buying into what he deeply understands. Tech companies have rarely been a good fit for his approach, as they typically have lofty valuations, unpredictable outlooks, and complex products and services. Indeed, Bending Spoons generated 32 cents in earnings per share last year. Berkshire is paying more than 100 times that per share in the coming private placement. It's true that Bending Spoons is growing fast, with revenue surging 126% year-on-year to $704 million in the second quarter and adjusted operating income jumping 150% to $381 million. Few, however, would consider the stock a bargain from a fundamental perspective. Berkshire is also famously a hands-off acquirer, offering founders the opportunity to cash out while continuing to run their businesses as they see fit. In contrast, a core aspect of Bending Spoons' strategy is revamping its acquisitions. How does the deal make sense? Berkshire and Bending Spoons have similarities as well as differences. Both are decentralized conglomerates that buy businesses not to flip them, but to own them for the long term. Berkshire is a web of largely autonomous companies, including GEICO, Duracell, Fruit of the Loom, Pilot Travel Centers, and BNSF Railway. It has long offered a permanent home to the businesses it buys. Bending Spoons has positioned itself as a forever owner, too, emulating Berkshire's approach of taking the cash generated by a subsidiary like See's Candies and using it to acquire more businesses. Ferrari said in his recent podcast interview that Bending Spoons has fostered a culture of caring deeply about the company, and doesn't centralize decision-making in part because that "deprives people of that precious sense of ownership." Buffett famously wrote "An Owner's Manual" for Berkshire shareholders. He's championed that mindset by keeping more than 99% of his net worth in Berkshire stock, and encouraging the company's other executives and directors to have skin in the game too. Ferrari also said on the podcast that he has a "pathological love of learning" across different domains. That echoes Buffett's boundless curiosity and the late Charlie Munger's insatiable appetite for knowledge. Buffett's longtime business partner studied architecture, physics, history, meteorology, psychology, law, and, of course, investing, among other subjects. Beyond their similar philosophies, it's worth noting that investing less than $1 billion into Bending Spoons isn't a huge deal for Berkshire. It has a $1.1 trillion market capitalization, had a $365 billion cash pile at the end of June, and its biggest stock position was worth about $66 billion at that time. What's the takeaway? The Bending Spoons deal could mark an evolution in Berkshire's investing style following Buffett's departure as CEO and chairman. Berkshire hasn't commented on the purchase or on whether Buffett was involved. Its relatively small size could mean his remaining investment manager, Ted Weschler, was behind it. Or it might be new CEO Greg Abel, who piled an additional $10 billion into Alphabet in a private placement this summer after consulting with Buffett. Whoever was responsible, and whatever their reasons for investing, this will be an intriguing wager to watch for Berkshire followers. Read the original article on Business Insider

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Microsoft Corp. has pulled out of a UK data center deal with Nscale, the British neocloud firm said, marking a setback for the startup’s initial public offering hopes.

Financial Times: RegLayer: 47+ large US data center projects were delayed, withdrawn, or blocked in 2026; Bernstein says ~35% of the planned US data center pipeline is credible  —  A vast bet on the future of the technology is running into the unforgiving economics of the physical world

New York Times: AI debt worries mount as CoreWeave's bond yield tops 15%, insuring SoftBank debt gets pricier, and some Oracle debt trades near 80 to 90 cents on the dollar  —  Debt trouble at CoreWeave, Oracle and SoftBank raises questions about whether there are broader problems with the data center build-out.

James Titcomb / Telegraph: Microsoft cancels its deal to be the anchor tenant and rent 23K Nvidia AI chips at Nscale's Essex, UK, data center, which may not get grid power until the 2030s  —  US tech giant pulls the plug on Nscale deal in threat to multibillion-dollar listing  —  Microsoft has pulled …

Nick Lichtenberg / Fortune: Holyvolt, which develops AI tools for making and testing new battery materials, raised $45M from Zone II, CC.VC, and others, a source says at a $245M valuation  —  Steven Prast is old enough to remember when a mobile phone came in a bag.  It was too heavy to carry around, so most people mounted it in the car.

Cristina Criddle / Financial Times: Sources: Anthropic is consulting law firms on deal negotiation tactics as it develops AI agents to negotiate on humans' behalf and interact with AI counterparts  —  Tech companies are being forced to confront the rules of negotiation when machines act on humans' behalf

Bloomberg: GTCR and Elliott agree to acquire and take private CCC, a Nasdaq-listed car insurance software provider, for $4.6B; the deal values CCC at $6.1B including debt  —  GTCR and Elliott Investment Management are acquiring car-insurance software provider CCC Intelligent Solutions Holdings Inc …

China’s deputy central bank governor Xuan Changneng called for greater private-sector participation in sovereign debt restructuring as rising borrowing costs add to developing countries’ debt-servicing burdens.