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Tenways nearly perfects the shareable city e-bike

Tenways nearly perfects the shareable city e-bike

Good electric bikes are expensive. So why not buy one and share it?

That’s the idea behind the Tenways CGO Compact e-bike I’ve been sharing with my wife and teenage daughter for the last two weeks. It adapts in seconds without any tools to comfortably fit riders of varying heights thanks to its low-entry frame, quick-release seat post, and height-adjustable handlebar.

It also takes up less space than an ordinary bike with its 20-inch wheels, folding pedals, and a handlebar that twists to create a slim, wall-hugging profile that goes flat inside a car or train.

The CGO Compact’s geometry puts riders into a comfortable upright body position. Combine that with wide tires and a heavy aluminum frame – heavier than many full-sized e-bikes – and it feels remarkably sturdy despite its size, with a rear carrier system strong enough to hold a child or a few days of groceries.

The shareable e-bike isn’t a new idea, but Tenways comes close to perfecting it with the €1,999 (about $2,365) CGO Compact.

$2365

The Good

  • Saddle and handlebar adjust quickly
  • Twists and folds to go flat
  • Rides big and sturdy
  • Good hauling capacity for size
  • No service upsells
  • Low battery alerts

The Bad

  • App is just fine
  • Quick release seat easy to steal

Tenways, the Amsterdam-HQ’d e-bike company of Chinese origin, has been on a tear in Europe thanks to the post-pandemic chaos that took out much of its competition. The brand makes great looking e-bikes from off-the-shelf parts supported by a robust service network. Importantly, they sell below the €2,681 (about $3,160) e-bike average — expensive compared to the US, but far less likely to burst into flames.

My Tenways review e-bike arrived at my front door in a giant cardboard box. It seemed big enough to fit the CGO Compact fully assembled and with the handlebar twisted, yet I still had to attach the steering column and front wheel myself. The e-bike took about 20 minutes to unbox, but I’ve been assembling direct-to-consumer e-bikes about once a month for the last decade.

Quickly adjusts to fit my wife who is 164cm (5ft 5in) tall.

The handlebars and shock-absorbing seat can be raised in seconds to fit my 183cm (6ft) frame.

Open the release to raise and lower the handlebars, lift that little pin to twist them out of the way.

The folding pedals help create a wall-hugging profile that’s easy to walk past.

The first thing I did after assembly was play with the Byschulz Speedlifter Twist Stem. It’s magical. Open the lever to quickly raise and lower the handlebar, or to gain access to a pin release that lets the handlebar twist out of the way. It took a little practice for everyone to master but we soon got the hang of it.

The small LCD dashboard is bright and colorful even in the sun. You have to enter a four-digit PIN code at power-on, which can only be changed in the rudimentary app over Bluetooth. It’s the only theft-deterrence Tenways offers on the CGO Compact, which also means it won’t try to upsell you on subscriptions or software-locked features.

Despite our height differences, ranging from 164cm to 183cm (5ft 5in to 6 feet), everyone found the CGO Compact to be very comfortable. Adjusting the handlebar and saddle takes less than 10 seconds, and the suspension seatpost did a good job of soaking up small bumps. But the seat’s quick release mechanism offers no additional security to prevent the post and saddle from being stolen. A no-no in the big European cities this bike targets.

The e-bike’s torque sensor made the ride exceptionally intuitive, ensuring that the power delivered by the 250W rear-hub motor was tuned to match the downward force exerted on the pedals. The motor was also very quiet, masked entirely by the sound of the wide, 2.4-inch tires riding over asphalt.

The Tenways motor is only capable of 45Nm of torque. And without additional gears, the CGO Compact is best for mostly flat environments. It still did better than I expected on hills, easily besting the 35Nm Raleigh One I recently reviewed. For example, I was able to cross a bridge with a 10 percent incline that stymied the Raleigh One, but only if I had a rolling start — otherwise, I had to get off and push. On downhill slopes, the large chainring allowed me to pedal comfortably at speeds approaching 30km/h without my legs frantically spinning out. The pedal-assist, however, quits helping at 25km/h (16mph) in Europe.

I also didn’t experience any of the twitchiness you get from folding bikes with relatively short wheelbases, smaller 16-inch wheels, and narrow handlebars. In general I rode in pedal-assist levels 3 or 4 out of 5, with 3 feeling the most natural, and 4 for when I was in a hurry.

1/25

The suspension seat post soaked up bumps on a variety of road surfaces.

On a full battery I managed to travel 65kms (over 40 miles) before needing a recharge. I received alerts on my iPhone and Apple Watch when the battery dropped to 10 percent, and power dropped noticeably when the estimated remaining range hit 4km. Charging the 494.36Wh battery took a relatively slow 4.5 hours from the bundled charger.

The CGO Compact was obviously designed by people that actually ride bikes in compact European cities. It comes standard with integrated lighting, mudguards, a loud bell, kickstand, and a partially covered transmission to protect trousers, skirts, and long coats from getting snagged. The little crossbar in the step-through frame even doubles as a handle to help hoist the bike up stairs.

City bikes need to haul things, which is why the CGO Compact comes fitted with the click-and-go MIK HD rear carrier system. It supports loads up to 27kg (almost 60 pounds) — enough to fit a compatible crate or child seat. The e-bike also has mounting points up front for a bottle cage or rack.

In general, the Android and iOS app is fine, but it’s rarely needed. It might eventually be useful for buying accessories and insurance, or starting a chat with support and finding the nearest service center. It also promises to show riding data collected by date, but this never worked for me, only showing zeroes.

Tenways’ CGO Compact is an excellent e-bike for €1,999 (about $2,365). The riding experience, everyone agrees, has been stellar. And when it eventually needs servicing, Tenways has a solid network of local bike shops in Europe to provide support, with a ready supply of the off-the-shelf parts from brands you know.

The CGO Compact is a highly adaptable e-bike that rides big and tucks away small, making it an ideal companion for European city life. It’s also exceedingly shareable — but nobody would blame you for keeping it all for yourself.

  • Tenways C9 Hub Motor (250W, 45Nm torque)
  • Single-speed Gates CDN Carbon belt drive
  • 494.36Wh removable battery
  • Suspension seat post for Selle Royal saddle
  • Tektro hydraulic disc brakes
  • Byschulz Speedlifter Twist Stem
  • Bike weight: 24kg (almost 53 pounds) with all accessories
  • Max load: 145kg (320 pounds)
  • MIK HD Rear Carrier system with 27kg (almost 60 pounds) max load
  • Fits riders 160cm and 190cm (5ft 2in to 6ft 2in)
  • Accessory mounting points on head tube
  • Integrated front and rear lighting with daytime running light
  • LCD display
  • Basic app for iOS and Android

Photography by Thomas Ricker / The Verge

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After two weeks of hearing from assorted witnesses that he was a lying snake, the jury finally heard from the lying snake himself: Sam Altman. At the end of the testimony, his lawyer William Savitt asked him how it felt to be accused of stealing a charity.

“We created, through a ton of hard work, this extremely large charity, and I agree you can’t steal it,” Altman said. “Mr. Musk did try to kill it, I guess. Twice.”

Altman was fully in “nice kid from St. Louis” mode, and did a passable impression of a man who was bewildered at what was happening to him. When he stepped down from the stand holding a stack of evidence binders, he even looked a little like a schoolboy. He seemed nervous at the beginning of his direct testimony, though he warmed up fairly quickly. Overall, he seemed to give credible testimony — and at times, it seemed like the jury liked him.

Throughout this trial I’ve had some difficulty imagining what the jury is making of all this because I am a little too familiar with the figures who are testifying. I have heard some audacious lies under oath, like when Elon Musk told us all he doesn’t lose his temper. (He then proceeded to lose his temper on cross-examination.) Or like when Shivon Zilis, the mother of several of his children, told us that she didn’t know Musk was starting xAI — which seemed to be directly contradicted by her text messages. Or when Greg “What will take me to $1B?” Brockman told us he was all about the mission. I certainly believe Altman isn’t trustworthy — I mean, The New Yorker published more than 17,000 words about how much he lies. But unlike with Musk, there are contemporaneous documents backing Altman’s version of the story. At least, mostly.

“My belief is he wanted to have long-term control”

After OpenAI’s Dota 2 win, discussions for a for-profit arm started in earnest. “Mr. Musk felt very strongly that if we were going to form a for-profit he needed to have total control over it initially,” Altman said. “He only trusted himself to make non-obvious decisions that were going to turn out to be correct.”

Altman testified that he was uncomfortable with Musk’s insistence on control, not just because Musk hadn’t been as involved as everyone else, but because OpenAI existed so no one person would control AGI. And at Y Combinator, the startup incubator where he was president, Altman had seen a lot of control fights; no one wanted to give up power when things were going well. With structures like supervoting shares, founders could retain control forever. Curiously, Altman’s example was not the most famous one (Mark Zuckerberg at Meta); it was Musk and SpaceX. When Altman asked Musk about succession plans for OpenAI, he got a particularly “hair-raising” answer: In the event of Musk’s death, Musk said, “I haven’t thought about it a ton, but maybe control should pass to my children.”

I don’t know about that. But I do know that I saw a 2017 email from Altman to Zilis in which he wrote, “I am worried about control. I don’t think any one person should have control of the world’s first AGI — in fact the whole reason we started OpenAI was so that wouldn’t happen.” He went on to say that he didn’t mind the idea of immediate control and was open to “creative structures” — which I understood to mean that, in order to placate Musk, Altman was willing to give him control up to specific milestones in company development.

“I read a vague, like, a lightweight threat in there”

“My belief is he wanted to have long-term control and that he would’ve had that had we agreed to the structure he wanted,” Altman said on the stand. This sounds basically right. In later video testimony from Sam Teller’s deposition, we heard that Musk no longer invests in anything he doesn’t control. This also fits with Musk’s long-term fixation on making sure he can’t get booted from his own company the way he got booted from PayPal.

Musk also tried to recruit Altman to Tesla. We saw texts between Altman and Teller, in which Teller told Altman that Musk was committed to beefing up Tesla’s AI no matter what, and that he hoped that Altman, Brockman, and Ilya Sutskever would want to join eventually. “I read a vague, like, a lightweight threat in there, that he’s gonna do this inside of Tesla with or without you,” Altman said. But he felt that Tesla was primarily a car company — allowing it to acquire OpenAI would betray OpenAI’s mission.

Later, in Teller’s testimony, we saw texts Teller sent to Zilis at 12:40AM on February 4th, 2018: “I don’t love OpenAI continuing without Elon,” he wrote. “Would rather disable it by recruiting the leaders.”

When Musk stopped his quarterly donations, OpenAI was operating on a “shoestring” with an “extremely short runway of cash.” OpenAI did have other donors, none of whom have sued it or joined Musk’s suit. (One donor in the exhibit that wasn’t called out to the courtroom was Alameda Research, the firm owned by Sam Bankman-Fried, who is now in prison for fraud and money laundering.) Musk’s resignation from the board meant “people wondered if he was gonna try to take, uh, vengeance out on us or something.” On the other hand, Altman said Musk had “demotivated some of our key researchers” and done “huge damage for a long time to the culture of the organization.” So it sure seems like some people were relieved to be rid of him.

I’ve seen some fairly shoddy lawyering from Musk’s side throughout this trial

We saw a lot of evidence that throughout the time Altman was setting up OpenAI’s for-profit arm, he kept Musk apprised of what was going on, either directly or through Zilis or Teller. At no point did Musk object, and whatever he said publicly about the Microsoft investments, there was plenty of evidence that privately he’d been made aware.

On the cross-examination, we were treated to more than 10 minutes of Steven Molo telling Altman that various and assorted people had called him a liar: Sutskever, Mira Murati, Helen Toner, Tasha McCauley, Daniela and Dario Amodei (former OpenAI employees and founders of Anthropic), employees at Altman’s first startup Loopt, that recent New Yorker article, a book called The Optimist, etc. Molo did score some points by asking Altman about testimony in the trial, which Altman said he wasn’t paying close attention to. Molo acted as though this was inconceivable. Surely someone had informed Altman of what was said?

It was a little funny and also a little tiresome. Altman kept his cool, though, seeming hurt and confused by the focus on whether he was a liar. It was also the most successful part of the cross, which declined in focus precipitously afterward. I’ve seen some fairly shoddy lawyering from Musk’s side throughout this trial, and today was pretty bad. At one point, when Molo was trying to capitalize on Altman being both CEO and on the company’s board, Altman said — truthfully — that CEOs are almost always on the boards of the companies they run.

(At this point in my notes, I had written, “Boy, Molo is not very good at this.”)

The point of this trial isn’t to win — it’s to punish Altman, Brockman, and OpenAI

There was also an unconvincing argument about fundraising in nonprofits, specifically that if Stanford could raise $3 billion a year, OpenAI should have remained a nonprofit. Okay, let’s just think about that for a minute. Stanford has a donor network of thousands of graduates. It’s a school, which has very different capital requirements. It is not competing with any reputable for-profit companies. But leave that all aside and assume that some fundraising genius took over at the OpenAI Foundation: $3 billion is the initial two Microsoft investments combined, and not enough to scale OpenAI to where it is now. If compute is the main bottleneck on building AI models, then Molo’s line of argument suggests OpenAI never would have managed to be successful as a nonprofit alone. He’s making the defense’s case for them.

But the thing is, Molo doesn’t actually have to be good at this job, because the point of this trial isn’t to win — though I’m sure Musk wouldn’t mind a win. The point is to punish Altman, Brockman, and OpenAI. Musk has done that pretty thoroughly — reinforcing in the public’s mind that Altman is a liar and a snake. This morning, I read an exclusive in The Wall Street Journal that assorted Republican AGs and the House Oversight committee wanted to look into Sam Altman’s investments. References to the trial are peppered throughout the article.

So yes, Altman was convincing on the stand. He may even win the suit. But it sure seems like Musk’s vengeance has just begun.

Follow topics and authors from this story to see more like this in your personalized homepage feed and to receive email updates.
#Sam #Altman #winning #standAI,OpenAI">Sam Altman was winning on the stand, but it might not be enoughAfter two weeks of hearing from assorted witnesses that he was a lying snake, the jury finally heard from the lying snake himself: Sam Altman. At the end of the testimony, his lawyer William Savitt asked him how it felt to be accused of stealing a charity.“We created, through a ton of hard work, this extremely large charity, and I agree you can’t steal it,” Altman said. “Mr. Musk did try to kill it, I guess. Twice.”Altman was fully in “nice kid from St. Louis” mode, and did a passable impression of a man who was bewildered at what was happening to him. When he stepped down from the stand holding a stack of evidence binders, he even looked a little like a schoolboy. He seemed nervous at the beginning of his direct testimony, though he warmed up fairly quickly. Overall, he seemed to give credible testimony — and at times, it seemed like the jury liked him.Throughout this trial I’ve had some difficulty imagining what the jury is making of all this because I am a little too familiar with the figures who are testifying. I have heard some audacious lies under oath, like when Elon Musk told us all he doesn’t lose his temper. (He then proceeded to lose his temper on cross-examination.) Or like when Shivon Zilis, the mother of several of his children, told us that she didn’t know Musk was starting xAI — which seemed to be directly contradicted by her text messages. Or when Greg “What will take me to B?” Brockman told us he was all about the mission. I certainly believe Altman isn’t trustworthy — I mean, The New Yorker published more than 17,000 words about how much he lies. But unlike with Musk, there are contemporaneous documents backing Altman’s version of the story. At least, mostly.“My belief is he wanted to have long-term control”After OpenAI’s Dota 2 win, discussions for a for-profit arm started in earnest. “Mr. Musk felt very strongly that if we were going to form a for-profit he needed to have total control over it initially,” Altman said. “He only trusted himself to make non-obvious decisions that were going to turn out to be correct.”Altman testified that he was uncomfortable with Musk’s insistence on control, not just because Musk hadn’t been as involved as everyone else, but because OpenAI existed so no one person would control AGI. And at Y Combinator, the startup incubator where he was president, Altman had seen a lot of control fights; no one wanted to give up power when things were going well. With structures like supervoting shares, founders could retain control forever. Curiously, Altman’s example was not the most famous one (Mark Zuckerberg at Meta); it was Musk and SpaceX. When Altman asked Musk about succession plans for OpenAI, he got a particularly “hair-raising” answer: In the event of Musk’s death, Musk said, “I haven’t thought about it a ton, but maybe control should pass to my children.”I don’t know about that. But I do know that I saw a 2017 email from Altman to Zilis in which he wrote, “I am worried about control. I don’t think any one person should have control of the world’s first AGI — in fact the whole reason we started OpenAI was so that wouldn’t happen.” He went on to say that he didn’t mind the idea of immediate control and was open to “creative structures” — which I understood to mean that, in order to placate Musk, Altman was willing to give him control up to specific milestones in company development.“I read a vague, like, a lightweight threat in there”“My belief is he wanted to have long-term control and that he would’ve had that had we agreed to the structure he wanted,” Altman said on the stand. This sounds basically right. In later video testimony from Sam Teller’s deposition, we heard that Musk no longer invests in anything he doesn’t control. This also fits with Musk’s long-term fixation on making sure he can’t get booted from his own company the way he got booted from PayPal.Musk also tried to recruit Altman to Tesla. We saw texts between Altman and Teller, in which Teller told Altman that Musk was committed to beefing up Tesla’s AI no matter what, and that he hoped that Altman, Brockman, and Ilya Sutskever would want to join eventually. “I read a vague, like, a lightweight threat in there, that he’s gonna do this inside of Tesla with or without you,” Altman said. But he felt that Tesla was primarily a car company — allowing it to acquire OpenAI would betray OpenAI’s mission.Later, in Teller’s testimony, we saw texts Teller sent to Zilis at 12:40AM on February 4th, 2018: “I don’t love OpenAI continuing without Elon,” he wrote. “Would rather disable it by recruiting the leaders.”When Musk stopped his quarterly donations, OpenAI was operating on a “shoestring” with an “extremely short runway of cash.” OpenAI did have other donors, none of whom have sued it or joined Musk’s suit. (One donor in the exhibit that wasn’t called out to the courtroom was Alameda Research, the firm owned by Sam Bankman-Fried, who is now in prison for fraud and money laundering.) Musk’s resignation from the board meant “people wondered if he was gonna try to take, uh, vengeance out on us or something.” On the other hand, Altman said Musk had “demotivated some of our key researchers” and done “huge damage for a long time to the culture of the organization.” So it sure seems like some people were relieved to be rid of him.I’ve seen some fairly shoddy lawyering from Musk’s side throughout this trialWe saw a lot of evidence that throughout the time Altman was setting up OpenAI’s for-profit arm, he kept Musk apprised of what was going on, either directly or through Zilis or Teller. At no point did Musk object, and whatever he said publicly about the Microsoft investments, there was plenty of evidence that privately he’d been made aware.On the cross-examination, we were treated to more than 10 minutes of Steven Molo telling Altman that various and assorted people had called him a liar: Sutskever, Mira Murati, Helen Toner, Tasha McCauley, Daniela and Dario Amodei (former OpenAI employees and founders of Anthropic), employees at Altman’s first startup Loopt, that recent New Yorker article, a book called The Optimist, etc. Molo did score some points by asking Altman about testimony in the trial, which Altman said he wasn’t paying close attention to. Molo acted as though this was inconceivable. Surely someone had informed Altman of what was said?It was a little funny and also a little tiresome. Altman kept his cool, though, seeming hurt and confused by the focus on whether he was a liar. It was also the most successful part of the cross, which declined in focus precipitously afterward. I’ve seen some fairly shoddy lawyering from Musk’s side throughout this trial, and today was pretty bad. At one point, when Molo was trying to capitalize on Altman being both CEO and on the company’s board, Altman said — truthfully — that CEOs are almost always on the boards of the companies they run.(At this point in my notes, I had written, “Boy, Molo is not very good at this.”)The point of this trial isn’t to win — it’s to punish Altman, Brockman, and OpenAIThere was also an unconvincing argument about fundraising in nonprofits, specifically that if Stanford could raise  billion a year, OpenAI should have remained a nonprofit. Okay, let’s just think about that for a minute. Stanford has a donor network of thousands of graduates. It’s a school, which has very different capital requirements. It is not competing with any reputable for-profit companies. But leave that all aside and assume that some fundraising genius took over at the OpenAI Foundation:  billion is the initial two Microsoft investments combined, and not enough to scale OpenAI to where it is now. If compute is the main bottleneck on building AI models, then Molo’s line of argument suggests OpenAI never would have managed to be successful as a nonprofit alone. He’s making the defense’s case for them.But the thing is, Molo doesn’t actually have to be good at this job, because the point of this trial isn’t to win — though I’m sure Musk wouldn’t mind a win. The point is to punish Altman, Brockman, and OpenAI. Musk has done that pretty thoroughly — reinforcing in the public’s mind that Altman is a liar and a snake. This morning, I read an exclusive in The Wall Street Journal that assorted Republican AGs and the House Oversight committee wanted to look into Sam Altman’s investments. References to the trial are peppered throughout the article.So yes, Altman was convincing on the stand. He may even win the suit. But it sure seems like Musk’s vengeance has just begun.Follow topics and authors from this story to see more like this in your personalized homepage feed and to receive email updates.Elizabeth LopattoCloseElizabeth LopattoPosts from this author will be added to your daily email digest and your homepage feed.FollowFollowSee All by Elizabeth LopattoAICloseAIPosts from this topic will be added to your daily email digest and your homepage feed.FollowFollowSee All AIOpenAICloseOpenAIPosts from this topic will be added to your daily email digest and your homepage feed.FollowFollowSee All OpenAI#Sam #Altman #winning #standAI,OpenAI

Elon Musk told us all he doesn’t lose his temper. (He then proceeded to lose his temper on cross-examination.) Or like when Shivon Zilis, the mother of several of his children, told us that she didn’t know Musk was starting xAI — which seemed to be directly contradicted by her text messages. Or when Greg “What will take me to $1B?” Brockman told us he was all about the mission. I certainly believe Altman isn’t trustworthy — I mean, The New Yorker published more than 17,000 words about how much he lies. But unlike with Musk, there are contemporaneous documents backing Altman’s version of the story. At least, mostly.

“My belief is he wanted to have long-term control”

After OpenAI’s Dota 2 win, discussions for a for-profit arm started in earnest. “Mr. Musk felt very strongly that if we were going to form a for-profit he needed to have total control over it initially,” Altman said. “He only trusted himself to make non-obvious decisions that were going to turn out to be correct.”

Altman testified that he was uncomfortable with Musk’s insistence on control, not just because Musk hadn’t been as involved as everyone else, but because OpenAI existed so no one person would control AGI. And at Y Combinator, the startup incubator where he was president, Altman had seen a lot of control fights; no one wanted to give up power when things were going well. With structures like supervoting shares, founders could retain control forever. Curiously, Altman’s example was not the most famous one (Mark Zuckerberg at Meta); it was Musk and SpaceX. When Altman asked Musk about succession plans for OpenAI, he got a particularly “hair-raising” answer: In the event of Musk’s death, Musk said, “I haven’t thought about it a ton, but maybe control should pass to my children.”

I don’t know about that. But I do know that I saw a 2017 email from Altman to Zilis in which he wrote, “I am worried about control. I don’t think any one person should have control of the world’s first AGI — in fact the whole reason we started OpenAI was so that wouldn’t happen.” He went on to say that he didn’t mind the idea of immediate control and was open to “creative structures” — which I understood to mean that, in order to placate Musk, Altman was willing to give him control up to specific milestones in company development.

“I read a vague, like, a lightweight threat in there”

“My belief is he wanted to have long-term control and that he would’ve had that had we agreed to the structure he wanted,” Altman said on the stand. This sounds basically right. In later video testimony from Sam Teller’s deposition, we heard that Musk no longer invests in anything he doesn’t control. This also fits with Musk’s long-term fixation on making sure he can’t get booted from his own company the way he got booted from PayPal.

Musk also tried to recruit Altman to Tesla. We saw texts between Altman and Teller, in which Teller told Altman that Musk was committed to beefing up Tesla’s AI no matter what, and that he hoped that Altman, Brockman, and Ilya Sutskever would want to join eventually. “I read a vague, like, a lightweight threat in there, that he’s gonna do this inside of Tesla with or without you,” Altman said. But he felt that Tesla was primarily a car company — allowing it to acquire OpenAI would betray OpenAI’s mission.

Later, in Teller’s testimony, we saw texts Teller sent to Zilis at 12:40AM on February 4th, 2018: “I don’t love OpenAI continuing without Elon,” he wrote. “Would rather disable it by recruiting the leaders.”

When Musk stopped his quarterly donations, OpenAI was operating on a “shoestring” with an “extremely short runway of cash.” OpenAI did have other donors, none of whom have sued it or joined Musk’s suit. (One donor in the exhibit that wasn’t called out to the courtroom was Alameda Research, the firm owned by Sam Bankman-Fried, who is now in prison for fraud and money laundering.) Musk’s resignation from the board meant “people wondered if he was gonna try to take, uh, vengeance out on us or something.” On the other hand, Altman said Musk had “demotivated some of our key researchers” and done “huge damage for a long time to the culture of the organization.” So it sure seems like some people were relieved to be rid of him.

I’ve seen some fairly shoddy lawyering from Musk’s side throughout this trial

We saw a lot of evidence that throughout the time Altman was setting up OpenAI’s for-profit arm, he kept Musk apprised of what was going on, either directly or through Zilis or Teller. At no point did Musk object, and whatever he said publicly about the Microsoft investments, there was plenty of evidence that privately he’d been made aware.

On the cross-examination, we were treated to more than 10 minutes of Steven Molo telling Altman that various and assorted people had called him a liar: Sutskever, Mira Murati, Helen Toner, Tasha McCauley, Daniela and Dario Amodei (former OpenAI employees and founders of Anthropic), employees at Altman’s first startup Loopt, that recent New Yorker article, a book called The Optimist, etc. Molo did score some points by asking Altman about testimony in the trial, which Altman said he wasn’t paying close attention to. Molo acted as though this was inconceivable. Surely someone had informed Altman of what was said?

It was a little funny and also a little tiresome. Altman kept his cool, though, seeming hurt and confused by the focus on whether he was a liar. It was also the most successful part of the cross, which declined in focus precipitously afterward. I’ve seen some fairly shoddy lawyering from Musk’s side throughout this trial, and today was pretty bad. At one point, when Molo was trying to capitalize on Altman being both CEO and on the company’s board, Altman said — truthfully — that CEOs are almost always on the boards of the companies they run.

(At this point in my notes, I had written, “Boy, Molo is not very good at this.”)

The point of this trial isn’t to win — it’s to punish Altman, Brockman, and OpenAI

There was also an unconvincing argument about fundraising in nonprofits, specifically that if Stanford could raise $3 billion a year, OpenAI should have remained a nonprofit. Okay, let’s just think about that for a minute. Stanford has a donor network of thousands of graduates. It’s a school, which has very different capital requirements. It is not competing with any reputable for-profit companies. But leave that all aside and assume that some fundraising genius took over at the OpenAI Foundation: $3 billion is the initial two Microsoft investments combined, and not enough to scale OpenAI to where it is now. If compute is the main bottleneck on building AI models, then Molo’s line of argument suggests OpenAI never would have managed to be successful as a nonprofit alone. He’s making the defense’s case for them.

But the thing is, Molo doesn’t actually have to be good at this job, because the point of this trial isn’t to win — though I’m sure Musk wouldn’t mind a win. The point is to punish Altman, Brockman, and OpenAI. Musk has done that pretty thoroughly — reinforcing in the public’s mind that Altman is a liar and a snake. This morning, I read an exclusive in The Wall Street Journal that assorted Republican AGs and the House Oversight committee wanted to look into Sam Altman’s investments. References to the trial are peppered throughout the article.

So yes, Altman was convincing on the stand. He may even win the suit. But it sure seems like Musk’s vengeance has just begun.

Follow topics and authors from this story to see more like this in your personalized homepage feed and to receive email updates.

#Sam #Altman #winning #standAI,OpenAI">Sam Altman was winning on the stand, but it might not be enough

After two weeks of hearing from assorted witnesses that he was a lying snake, the jury finally heard from the lying snake himself: Sam Altman. At the end of the testimony, his lawyer William Savitt asked him how it felt to be accused of stealing a charity.

“We created, through a ton of hard work, this extremely large charity, and I agree you can’t steal it,” Altman said. “Mr. Musk did try to kill it, I guess. Twice.”

Altman was fully in “nice kid from St. Louis” mode, and did a passable impression of a man who was bewildered at what was happening to him. When he stepped down from the stand holding a stack of evidence binders, he even looked a little like a schoolboy. He seemed nervous at the beginning of his direct testimony, though he warmed up fairly quickly. Overall, he seemed to give credible testimony — and at times, it seemed like the jury liked him.

Throughout this trial I’ve had some difficulty imagining what the jury is making of all this because I am a little too familiar with the figures who are testifying. I have heard some audacious lies under oath, like when Elon Musk told us all he doesn’t lose his temper. (He then proceeded to lose his temper on cross-examination.) Or like when Shivon Zilis, the mother of several of his children, told us that she didn’t know Musk was starting xAI — which seemed to be directly contradicted by her text messages. Or when Greg “What will take me to $1B?” Brockman told us he was all about the mission. I certainly believe Altman isn’t trustworthy — I mean, The New Yorker published more than 17,000 words about how much he lies. But unlike with Musk, there are contemporaneous documents backing Altman’s version of the story. At least, mostly.

“My belief is he wanted to have long-term control”

After OpenAI’s Dota 2 win, discussions for a for-profit arm started in earnest. “Mr. Musk felt very strongly that if we were going to form a for-profit he needed to have total control over it initially,” Altman said. “He only trusted himself to make non-obvious decisions that were going to turn out to be correct.”

Altman testified that he was uncomfortable with Musk’s insistence on control, not just because Musk hadn’t been as involved as everyone else, but because OpenAI existed so no one person would control AGI. And at Y Combinator, the startup incubator where he was president, Altman had seen a lot of control fights; no one wanted to give up power when things were going well. With structures like supervoting shares, founders could retain control forever. Curiously, Altman’s example was not the most famous one (Mark Zuckerberg at Meta); it was Musk and SpaceX. When Altman asked Musk about succession plans for OpenAI, he got a particularly “hair-raising” answer: In the event of Musk’s death, Musk said, “I haven’t thought about it a ton, but maybe control should pass to my children.”

I don’t know about that. But I do know that I saw a 2017 email from Altman to Zilis in which he wrote, “I am worried about control. I don’t think any one person should have control of the world’s first AGI — in fact the whole reason we started OpenAI was so that wouldn’t happen.” He went on to say that he didn’t mind the idea of immediate control and was open to “creative structures” — which I understood to mean that, in order to placate Musk, Altman was willing to give him control up to specific milestones in company development.

“I read a vague, like, a lightweight threat in there”

“My belief is he wanted to have long-term control and that he would’ve had that had we agreed to the structure he wanted,” Altman said on the stand. This sounds basically right. In later video testimony from Sam Teller’s deposition, we heard that Musk no longer invests in anything he doesn’t control. This also fits with Musk’s long-term fixation on making sure he can’t get booted from his own company the way he got booted from PayPal.

Musk also tried to recruit Altman to Tesla. We saw texts between Altman and Teller, in which Teller told Altman that Musk was committed to beefing up Tesla’s AI no matter what, and that he hoped that Altman, Brockman, and Ilya Sutskever would want to join eventually. “I read a vague, like, a lightweight threat in there, that he’s gonna do this inside of Tesla with or without you,” Altman said. But he felt that Tesla was primarily a car company — allowing it to acquire OpenAI would betray OpenAI’s mission.

Later, in Teller’s testimony, we saw texts Teller sent to Zilis at 12:40AM on February 4th, 2018: “I don’t love OpenAI continuing without Elon,” he wrote. “Would rather disable it by recruiting the leaders.”

When Musk stopped his quarterly donations, OpenAI was operating on a “shoestring” with an “extremely short runway of cash.” OpenAI did have other donors, none of whom have sued it or joined Musk’s suit. (One donor in the exhibit that wasn’t called out to the courtroom was Alameda Research, the firm owned by Sam Bankman-Fried, who is now in prison for fraud and money laundering.) Musk’s resignation from the board meant “people wondered if he was gonna try to take, uh, vengeance out on us or something.” On the other hand, Altman said Musk had “demotivated some of our key researchers” and done “huge damage for a long time to the culture of the organization.” So it sure seems like some people were relieved to be rid of him.

I’ve seen some fairly shoddy lawyering from Musk’s side throughout this trial

We saw a lot of evidence that throughout the time Altman was setting up OpenAI’s for-profit arm, he kept Musk apprised of what was going on, either directly or through Zilis or Teller. At no point did Musk object, and whatever he said publicly about the Microsoft investments, there was plenty of evidence that privately he’d been made aware.

On the cross-examination, we were treated to more than 10 minutes of Steven Molo telling Altman that various and assorted people had called him a liar: Sutskever, Mira Murati, Helen Toner, Tasha McCauley, Daniela and Dario Amodei (former OpenAI employees and founders of Anthropic), employees at Altman’s first startup Loopt, that recent New Yorker article, a book called The Optimist, etc. Molo did score some points by asking Altman about testimony in the trial, which Altman said he wasn’t paying close attention to. Molo acted as though this was inconceivable. Surely someone had informed Altman of what was said?

It was a little funny and also a little tiresome. Altman kept his cool, though, seeming hurt and confused by the focus on whether he was a liar. It was also the most successful part of the cross, which declined in focus precipitously afterward. I’ve seen some fairly shoddy lawyering from Musk’s side throughout this trial, and today was pretty bad. At one point, when Molo was trying to capitalize on Altman being both CEO and on the company’s board, Altman said — truthfully — that CEOs are almost always on the boards of the companies they run.

(At this point in my notes, I had written, “Boy, Molo is not very good at this.”)

The point of this trial isn’t to win — it’s to punish Altman, Brockman, and OpenAI

There was also an unconvincing argument about fundraising in nonprofits, specifically that if Stanford could raise $3 billion a year, OpenAI should have remained a nonprofit. Okay, let’s just think about that for a minute. Stanford has a donor network of thousands of graduates. It’s a school, which has very different capital requirements. It is not competing with any reputable for-profit companies. But leave that all aside and assume that some fundraising genius took over at the OpenAI Foundation: $3 billion is the initial two Microsoft investments combined, and not enough to scale OpenAI to where it is now. If compute is the main bottleneck on building AI models, then Molo’s line of argument suggests OpenAI never would have managed to be successful as a nonprofit alone. He’s making the defense’s case for them.

But the thing is, Molo doesn’t actually have to be good at this job, because the point of this trial isn’t to win — though I’m sure Musk wouldn’t mind a win. The point is to punish Altman, Brockman, and OpenAI. Musk has done that pretty thoroughly — reinforcing in the public’s mind that Altman is a liar and a snake. This morning, I read an exclusive in The Wall Street Journal that assorted Republican AGs and the House Oversight committee wanted to look into Sam Altman’s investments. References to the trial are peppered throughout the article.

So yes, Altman was convincing on the stand. He may even win the suit. But it sure seems like Musk’s vengeance has just begun.

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#Sam #Altman #winning #standAI,OpenAI
Early-stage venture firm A* on Tuesday announced a $450 million Fund III. The firm takes a generalist approach, backing companies across categories including AI applications, fintech, healthcare, and security.
The average check size for this fund will be between $3 million and $5 million, with the aim to back at least 30 startups. The capital will be deployed over the next two to three years, as with the firm’s previous funds. Limited partners include nonprofits, foundations, and endowments; Carnegie Mellon University is among the publicly named backers.

A*, founded in 2020 and run by Kevin Hartz and Bennet Siegel, previously raised a $315 million Fund II in 2024 and a $300 million Fund I in 2021. Hartz is a serial entrepreneur best known for co-founding Xoom, the international money-transfer service PayPal later acquired for $1.1 billion in 2015, and Eventbrite, the event-ticketing platform that went public in 2018. Siegel came up through Boston Consulting Group and Altamont Capital Partners before spending four years as a partner at Coatue Management.

The firm has also drawn attention for backing unusually young founders, even as the practice has become more common since. Hartz told TechCrunch last fall that close to 20% of the firm’s current portfolio involve teenage entrepreneurs. Among others of its investments, it has backed the fintech company Ramp and the AI firm Mercor.

This story was updated to clarify the name of the firm.

#Kevin #Hartzs #closed #fund #million #TechCrunchA* Capital,Kevin Hartz,Startups">Kevin Hartz’s A* just closed its third fund with 0 million | TechCrunch
Early-stage venture firm A* on Tuesday announced a 0 million Fund III. The firm takes a generalist approach, backing companies across categories including AI applications, fintech, healthcare, and security.The average check size for this fund will be between  million and  million, with the aim to back at least 30 startups. The capital will be deployed over the next two to three years, as with the firm’s previous funds. Limited partners include nonprofits, foundations, and endowments; Carnegie Mellon University is among the publicly named backers.

A*, founded in 2020 and run by Kevin Hartz and Bennet Siegel, previously raised a 5 million Fund II in 2024 and a 0 million Fund I in 2021. Hartz is a serial entrepreneur best known for co-founding Xoom, the international money-transfer service PayPal later acquired for .1 billion in 2015, and Eventbrite, the event-ticketing platform that went public in 2018. Siegel came up through Boston Consulting Group and Altamont Capital Partners before spending four years as a partner at Coatue Management.







The firm has also drawn attention for backing unusually young founders, even as the practice has become more common since. Hartz told TechCrunch last fall that close to 20% of the firm’s current portfolio involve teenage entrepreneurs. Among others of its investments, it has backed the fintech company Ramp and the AI firm Mercor.

This story was updated to clarify the name of the firm. 
#Kevin #Hartzs #closed #fund #million #TechCrunchA* Capital,Kevin Hartz,Startups

$450 million Fund III. The firm takes a generalist approach, backing companies across categories including AI applications, fintech, healthcare, and security.
The average check size for this fund will be between $3 million and $5 million, with the aim to back at least 30 startups. The capital will be deployed over the next two to three years, as with the firm’s previous funds. Limited partners include nonprofits, foundations, and endowments; Carnegie Mellon University is among the publicly named backers.

A*, founded in 2020 and run by Kevin Hartz and Bennet Siegel, previously raised a $315 million Fund II in 2024 and a $300 million Fund I in 2021. Hartz is a serial entrepreneur best known for co-founding Xoom, the international money-transfer service PayPal later acquired for $1.1 billion in 2015, and Eventbrite, the event-ticketing platform that went public in 2018. Siegel came up through Boston Consulting Group and Altamont Capital Partners before spending four years as a partner at Coatue Management.

The firm has also drawn attention for backing unusually young founders, even as the practice has become more common since. Hartz told TechCrunch last fall that close to 20% of the firm’s current portfolio involve teenage entrepreneurs. Among others of its investments, it has backed the fintech company Ramp and the AI firm Mercor.

This story was updated to clarify the name of the firm.

#Kevin #Hartzs #closed #fund #million #TechCrunchA* Capital,Kevin Hartz,Startups">Kevin Hartz’s A* just closed its third fund with $450 million | TechCrunch

Early-stage venture firm A* on Tuesday announced a $450 million Fund III. The firm takes a generalist approach, backing companies across categories including AI applications, fintech, healthcare, and security.
The average check size for this fund will be between $3 million and $5 million, with the aim to back at least 30 startups. The capital will be deployed over the next two to three years, as with the firm’s previous funds. Limited partners include nonprofits, foundations, and endowments; Carnegie Mellon University is among the publicly named backers.

A*, founded in 2020 and run by Kevin Hartz and Bennet Siegel, previously raised a $315 million Fund II in 2024 and a $300 million Fund I in 2021. Hartz is a serial entrepreneur best known for co-founding Xoom, the international money-transfer service PayPal later acquired for $1.1 billion in 2015, and Eventbrite, the event-ticketing platform that went public in 2018. Siegel came up through Boston Consulting Group and Altamont Capital Partners before spending four years as a partner at Coatue Management.

The firm has also drawn attention for backing unusually young founders, even as the practice has become more common since. Hartz told TechCrunch last fall that close to 20% of the firm’s current portfolio involve teenage entrepreneurs. Among others of its investments, it has backed the fintech company Ramp and the AI firm Mercor.

This story was updated to clarify the name of the firm.

#Kevin #Hartzs #closed #fund #million #TechCrunchA* Capital,Kevin Hartz,Startups

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