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Donkey Kong Bananza turns destruction into joy

Donkey Kong Bananza turns destruction into joy

My first thought upon starting up Donkey Kong Bananza was, “Why yes, I actually would like to go ape shit.” The game starts by having Donkey Kong smash through a wall to reveal a glittering gem waiting to be liberated from the rock. But instead of punching the bright yellow gem into bite-size pieces, I kept punching through the walls and floors, digging tunnels into the landscape.

With the Nintendo Switch 2 finally out in consumers’ hands for more than a month now and the luster of the console’s newness fading, we’re left asking, “What’s this thing actually capable of?” The first big exclusive, Mario Kart World, was a nice aperitif, giving players a bit of the new — processing power and graphics — firmly enmeshed in the old familiarity of Mario Kart. Donkey Kong Bananza, now the console’s second major exclusive, represents the Switch 2’s first real course, and it’s a fantastic feast.

Image: Nintendo

In Bananza, Donkey Kong has given up the lush comfort of his island to become a working monkey (or ape, as it were). He’s added a pair of overalls and a hard hat to his look and has ventured to Ingot Isle to dig up banadium gems — precious stones in the shape of banana bunches — with religious zeal. However, a gang of ruthless capitalists comes along and steals all the banana gems, forcing DK and his new friend Pauline to venture to the planet’s core to stop them.

There’s one rule to keep in mind playing Bananza: ABP. Always Be Punching. There’s an enemy ahead? Punch it. An obstacle? Punch through it. A friendly rock offering you some health-restoring apple juice? Ah, what the hell, punch him too. The punch action is extremely satisfying, enhanced by all the sounds of the different materials. Sand has a powdery quality to its sound as it crunches under DK’s feet. So does gravel, but the sound it makes is perceptibly different in the same way real sand is different from real gravel.

The variety of punchable materials definitely makes the case for Bananza being a Switch 2 game. Bananza’s developers told me that this was originally meant to be an original Switch title before the prospect of the Switch 2’s enhanced graphical and processing power changed the calculus of development. I can see what all that extra power was for when I spot detail in the environment at a distance. When DK punches through snow, snowflakes sprinkle around. Speaking of sprinkles, I love that the frozen layer is actually a huge dessert factory and that what I thought was mud was actually textured chocolate sprinkles. I hate that DK can eat apples for health but not the chocolate dirt.

Screenshot from Donkey Kong Bananza featuring the ape Donkey Kong with a small purple rock on his shoulder, punching through bedrock.

Punching things is the main mechanic in Bananza and damn if Nintendo didn’t make it satisfying to do.
Image: Nintendo

It’s not perfect. There are rare moments when there’s a lot of graphical noise that the game chugs a bit. Nintendo says it is aware of the issue, though I only encountered slowdown once and during the exceedingly badass end boss fight.

With Bananza, I could tell that the Breath of the Wild duology still has a chokehold over Nintendo’s designers. Not only does Bananza present BOTW-style openness emphasizing exploration, but every level starts with a slow, cinematic reveal as DK free-falls from the sky. Despite the fact that there are 17 distinct levels, dropping in from the air BOTW-style never got old. Each level was crafted with a creativity that was fun to peel apart — in some cases literally.

One of the later levels, deep within the mantle, was a beach resort strewn with colossal fruits that were fun to tunnel through. The fleshy fruits weren’t exactly rendered true to life, but I still had a moment of discomfort imagining DK and Pauline getting all sticky tunneling through a giant strawberry. I could also see the DNA of Super Mario Odyssey in the general cadence of gameplay. There are bananas (like moons) to uncover either in the world itself or contained within special challenges.

The damage DK does to the environment persists, permanently altering the landscape, and I can see those changes reflected in the game’s map for all time. (Unless I want to revert everything back to the way it was, which is a menu option.) There’s also a vastness that’s made approachable by exploration. More often than not, if I see a distant area on the map or from a high-up vantage point, I can go there, and, even better, there’s probably something hidden for me to find. The prospect of discovery through destruction, more than finishing the story, was what propelled me forward.

Not that the story itself isn’t fun. Nintendo has inadvertently made a game for the current political moment. A gross and scrungly (my words) president (game’s words) who has more bananas than he could ever need has decided to steal even more while destroying the world with the byproducts of his manufacturing company. He can do almost nothing by himself, relying on the intelligence of a pretty but evil woman and the enforcement of a big, mean muscle dude. Coincidence? Definitely. But it’s still fun to punch them and imagine you’re working out your feelings.

Screenshot from Donkey Kong Bananza featuring three ape like characters from left to right: Grumpy Kong, Void Kong, and Poppy Kong.

It’s easy to work out your feelings by beating on these guys.
Image: Nintendo.

Then there’s DK himself: a big, simple guy who has decided to use his massive power to stop the bad guys while helping a cute little girl find her confidence. I love Pauline as a sidekick, and I typically hate mouthy audience surrogates. Pauline hangs off DK’s back but rarely chirps about where to go next. In fact, she’s quiet for most of the game, only talking at length whenever the pair checks into a hideaway for a rest. Then, as you drift off to health-restoring sleep, she’ll remark on your adventures or share her own thoughts. It’s a cute, natural way to see her character develop while not being an intrusive Navi type.

I tried Bananza’s co-op with my husband on his original Switch. It was a breeze to start, but just make sure your OG Switch has been updated for the GameShare function. Player 2 controls Pauline and is able to use her voice to blast objects and enemies. That’s it. It’s in fact so simple that my player 2 quit after five minutes because he saw essentially all the multiplayer had to offer. However, you can see the performance issues the original Switch would have had with this game, as there were lots of pop-in and frame rate issues. Also, unless you’re an artist or really nostalgic for squishing Mario’s face on the Super Mario 64 title screen, you’re not gonna get much out of Bananza’s rock sculpting mode.

Bananza also does a thing I love where its narrative is reinforced in the game’s mechanics. Pauline is a girl who loves to sing but is afraid of performing in front of big crowds. She works that out over the course of the game because it’s her voice that powers up DK’s transformations, known as Bananzas. There’s a zebra form that lets him run fast over disintegrating blocks, an ostrich that lets him fly, and more. (The game very cleverly shuts down the “but ostriches can’t fly” pedants by essentially saying, “Yes, we know. It’s a video game, don’t think too hard.”) With every new Bananza performance, DK gets more powerful and Pauline gets more confident.

Bananza is a dad game the same way The Last of Us is a dad game. Same world-trekking adventure with a big strong dude protecting a powerful little girl. But where TLOU makes you have big sad feelings about all the people the game forces you to kill, Bananza presents you with a slight alternative — what if you could use your powers to fuck shit up and not be a dick about it? DK smiles often. People are happy to see him. That friendly rock I mentioned earlier? When you punch him or any NPC, it turns into a high five. All that destruction is welcome because it’s helping restore the world.

Donkey Kong Bananza launches on July 17th on the Nintendo Switch 2.

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#Donkey #Kong #Bananza #turns #destruction #joy

Most Americans don’t trust AI. It’s proven that it doesn’t know what safe toppings for pizza are. People don’t even want to listen to AI music. But none of that matters for some of America’s wealthy, who are turning to AI to teach their kids instead of traditional schools.

Companies like Forge Prep and Alpha School are charging families tens of thousands of dollars to turn their kids into beta testers for AI tutors and “interactive project-based workshops.” Unsurprisingly, Silicon Valley have been major adopters of this new model. Shaun Johnson, a San Francisco-based venture capitalist, told The Wall Street Journal that he plans to send his son to a $75,000 year Alpha Kindergarten. He said, “We recognize that education is likely broken the way it is and there’s going to be entrepreneurs that try to fix it… You want someone to be able to think on their feet and navigate the world, not necessarily a recitation of facts in a particular discipline.”

Ignoring Johnson’s fundamental lack of understanding about modern pedagogy, it’s unclear how notoriously sycophantic AI will train children to “think on their feet and navigate the world.” It’s also concerning that Alpha School cofounder MacKenzie Price has said she plans to keep “hot-button social issues” out of the classroom. Which, in the current political climate, could cover women’s rights, America’s history of slavery, and our immigrant past. That might not seem like a major issue when you’re talking about kindergarten, but in some locations, Alpha School goes through high school.

Companies like Forge also don’t share performance metrics, so there’s no evidence that these AI-guided private schools are improving educational outcomes.

#nations #rich #letting #teach #kidsAI,News,Policy">Some of the nation’s rich are letting AI teach their kidsMost Americans don’t trust AI. It’s proven that it doesn’t know what safe toppings for pizza are. People don’t even want to listen to AI music. But none of that matters for some of America’s wealthy, who are turning to AI to teach their kids instead of traditional schools.Companies like Forge Prep and Alpha School are charging families tens of thousands of dollars to turn their kids into beta testers for AI tutors and “interactive project-based workshops.” Unsurprisingly, Silicon Valley have been major adopters of this new model. Shaun Johnson, a San Francisco-based venture capitalist, told The Wall Street Journal that he plans to send his son to a ,000 year Alpha Kindergarten. He said, “We recognize that education is likely broken the way it is and there’s going to be entrepreneurs that try to fix it… You want someone to be able to think on their feet and navigate the world, not necessarily a recitation of facts in a particular discipline.”Ignoring Johnson’s fundamental lack of understanding about modern pedagogy, it’s unclear how notoriously sycophantic AI will train children to “think on their feet and navigate the world.” It’s also concerning that Alpha School cofounder MacKenzie Price has said she plans to keep “hot-button social issues” out of the classroom. Which, in the current political climate, could cover women’s rights, America’s history of slavery, and our immigrant past. That might not seem like a major issue when you’re talking about kindergarten, but in some locations, Alpha School goes through high school.Companies like Forge also don’t share performance metrics, so there’s no evidence that these AI-guided private schools are improving educational outcomes.#nations #rich #letting #teach #kidsAI,News,Policy

don’t trust AI. It’s proven that it doesn’t know what safe toppings for pizza are. People don’t even want to listen to AI music. But none of that matters for some of America’s wealthy, who are turning to AI to teach their kids instead of traditional schools.

Companies like Forge Prep and Alpha School are charging families tens of thousands of dollars to turn their kids into beta testers for AI tutors and “interactive project-based workshops.” Unsurprisingly, Silicon Valley have been major adopters of this new model. Shaun Johnson, a San Francisco-based venture capitalist, told The Wall Street Journal that he plans to send his son to a $75,000 year Alpha Kindergarten. He said, “We recognize that education is likely broken the way it is and there’s going to be entrepreneurs that try to fix it… You want someone to be able to think on their feet and navigate the world, not necessarily a recitation of facts in a particular discipline.”

Ignoring Johnson’s fundamental lack of understanding about modern pedagogy, it’s unclear how notoriously sycophantic AI will train children to “think on their feet and navigate the world.” It’s also concerning that Alpha School cofounder MacKenzie Price has said she plans to keep “hot-button social issues” out of the classroom. Which, in the current political climate, could cover women’s rights, America’s history of slavery, and our immigrant past. That might not seem like a major issue when you’re talking about kindergarten, but in some locations, Alpha School goes through high school.

Companies like Forge also don’t share performance metrics, so there’s no evidence that these AI-guided private schools are improving educational outcomes.

#nations #rich #letting #teach #kidsAI,News,Policy">Some of the nation’s rich are letting AI teach their kids

Most Americans don’t trust AI. It’s proven that it doesn’t know what safe toppings for pizza are. People don’t even want to listen to AI music. But none of that matters for some of America’s wealthy, who are turning to AI to teach their kids instead of traditional schools.

Companies like Forge Prep and Alpha School are charging families tens of thousands of dollars to turn their kids into beta testers for AI tutors and “interactive project-based workshops.” Unsurprisingly, Silicon Valley have been major adopters of this new model. Shaun Johnson, a San Francisco-based venture capitalist, told The Wall Street Journal that he plans to send his son to a $75,000 year Alpha Kindergarten. He said, “We recognize that education is likely broken the way it is and there’s going to be entrepreneurs that try to fix it… You want someone to be able to think on their feet and navigate the world, not necessarily a recitation of facts in a particular discipline.”

Ignoring Johnson’s fundamental lack of understanding about modern pedagogy, it’s unclear how notoriously sycophantic AI will train children to “think on their feet and navigate the world.” It’s also concerning that Alpha School cofounder MacKenzie Price has said she plans to keep “hot-button social issues” out of the classroom. Which, in the current political climate, could cover women’s rights, America’s history of slavery, and our immigrant past. That might not seem like a major issue when you’re talking about kindergarten, but in some locations, Alpha School goes through high school.

Companies like Forge also don’t share performance metrics, so there’s no evidence that these AI-guided private schools are improving educational outcomes.

#nations #rich #letting #teach #kidsAI,News,Policy
The humanoid robotics market is awash in money right now. Last week, AI2 Robotics, a Shenzhen-based startup that makes wheeled humanoid robots, raised roughly $735 million at a nearly $3 billion valuation. Earlier this year, Apptronik, an Austin-based maker of humanoid robots for manufacturing and logistics, closed a $935 million funding round valuing the company at more than $5.5 billion. Last fall, Figure AI, a San Jose-based startup developing general-purpose humanoid robots, self-reported that it closed on $1 billion in Series C funding at an eye-popping $39 billion valuation.

By comparison, Peggy Johnson, CEO of Agility Robotics, is surprisingly measured. We spoke by phone last week, just after the company announced plans to go public through a merger with Michael Klein’s Churchill Capital Corp XI, a special purpose acquisition company, or SPAC. The deal values Agility at around $2.5 billion and is expected to raise more than $620 million in gross proceeds, the largest capital raise in humanoid robotics history. It hasn’t closed yet; the merger still needs shareholder approval and SEC review, and is expected to be completed later this year.

Agility was founded in 2015 as a spinoff from Oregon State University. Based in Salem, Oregon, the company makes bipedal humanoid robots designed to work in warehouses and factories. Its SPAC maneuver is notable for a few reasons. It would make Agility the first pure-play humanoid robotics company to trade on public markets, giving retail investors direct exposure to a sector that has so far been available primarily to deep-pocketed VC funds. It also offers a rare window into the finances of a business in a space where most competitors closely guard their numbers and even the state of the tech they are building.

Johnson — formerly executive vice president of business development at Microsoft, where she helped engineer the $26 billion acquisition of LinkedIn, and later CEO of Magic Leap, the once-hyped augmented reality headset maker — was careful throughout our conversation. She declined to offer forward-looking financial guidance, declined to disclose the bill of materials for Agility’s flagship robot Digit, and pushed back politely whenever questions veered toward speculation.

Asked why Agility is going public via a SPAC rather than raising another private round — a structure that skips the roadshow and pricing scrutiny of a traditional IPO — Johnson said much of it boils down to the first-mover advantage the company enjoys when it’s the first of its ilk to go public. For investors clamoring for shares in a buzzy robotics company, Agility is “an acceleration story and a timing story,” she said. The proceeds will also help Agility ramp up production at its 70,000-square-foot manufacturing facility in Salem, Oregon, and fulfill an existing pipeline of customer orders.

As for the troubled reputation of SPACs — many companies that went public that way in 2021 famously fizzled out entirely or trade well below their offering price — Johnson was unfazed. “If we just keep our head down, keep delivering customer by customer, robot by robot, we hopefully won’t experience the same volatility,” she said. “Our biggest competitor right now is just us. How quickly we can execute, how quickly we can continue to add new skills.”

The pipeline goes well beyond pilots, Johnson told TechCrunch, pointing to more than $300 million in booked, multi-year revenue that represents roughly 1,000 robots that are part of a robots-as-a-service model in which customers pay a monthly fee rather than purchasing the machines outright. “Everybody on our list right now is already vetted, and they have deployment plans behind their proof of concepts,” Johnson said. Customers include GXO Logistics, Amazon, Toyota Motor Manufacturing Canada, Schaeffler, and Mercado Libre.

Digit itself is a deliberately unfussy piece of hardware. It stands about 5’9″, weighs around 160 pounds, and is designed to do one thing exceptionally well, which is move heavy objects in human-built spaces. Its most distinctive feature is a set of reverse-bend knees — they’ve been called “bird legs” — that allow it to reach from floor level to overhead shelving without the knees colliding with warehouse racking. (Agility’s founders, Johnson explained, weren’t interested in biomimicry for its own sake.) The robot’s hands — two thumbs and two fingers — are similarly task-specific; they’re optimized for gripping heavy plastic totes, even as their contents shift in transit.

Johnson said Agility is “LLM-agnostic,” drawing on models including Claude and Gemini to handle what she calls the semantic layer — translating high-level instructions into robot behavior. She described a recent test in which engineers scattered different types of trash on the floor and told Digit simply to “clean up this mess.” The robot assessed, sorted, and binned everything correctly, including correctly identifying bubble wrap as non-recyclable.

Of course, it’s the physical layer — the mechanics of balance, locomotion, and manipulation — that Agility considers its core proprietary advantage, one built up over more than a decade of real-world deployment. “The LLMs had the entire internet to train on,” she said. “When you think about the physical AI of humanoids — that doesn’t quite exist yet.” At most companies, anyway. Johnson believes Agility is the exception: “We may have the largest data lake of actual operating robotics data in real-world environments.”

Beyond raw data, Johnson said, safety is where the gulf between Agility and its competitors is biggest and most consequential. While rival companies showcase their robots in lab demos and choreographed videos, Agility has had to meet actual industrial safety certification requirements to operate inside customer facilities. “You can’t build your robot and then make it safe,” she said. “That’s a redesign. You have to have all of the safety certified — the electrical system, all of the parts, and the software to support all of that.” (It’s not a trivial concern given that humans are often somewhere in the room. Back in November, Figure AI’s former head of product safety sued the company, alleging he was fired after raising concerns that its robots were powerful enough to fracture a human skull. Figure has disputed the claims.)

As for the home, Johnson thinks humanoids will get there eventually, but she said not to expect them to deliver breakfast in bed anytime soon. It’ll be “10-plus years,” she said of the timeline, observing that warehouses and factories, for all their complexity, have fixed aisles and predictable equipment and workflows unlike homes that are chaotic, with dogs, babies, visitors, and objects left in unexpected places.

“At least roads have some discipline to them,” Johnson added, comparing the challenge to that of autonomous vehicles. “Most of the areas that humanoids will be operating in don’t.”

Agility isn’t ruling out the home market. Johnson said the company will enter it when it makes sense. For now, though, it’s laser focused on the warehouse market, given the growing numbers of retiring workers and younger workers who aren’t willing to take physically demanding roles. “There’s something like over a million jobs in the US today in these areas that are unfilled,” she said. “They’re just very, very hard to hire for.”

When you purchase through links in our articles, we may earn a small commission. This doesn’t affect our editorial independence.

#humanoid #robotics #company #public #CEO #isnt #promising #robot #home #anytime #TechCrunchagility robotics,Peggy Johnson,SPAC">This humanoid robotics company is going public, but its CEO isn’t promising a robot in your home anytime soon | TechCrunch
The humanoid robotics market is awash in money right now. Last week, AI2 Robotics, a Shenzhen-based startup that makes wheeled humanoid robots, raised roughly 5 million at a nearly  billion valuation. Earlier this year, Apptronik, an Austin-based maker of humanoid robots for manufacturing and logistics, closed a 5 million funding round valuing the company at more than .5 billion. Last fall, Figure AI, a San Jose-based startup developing general-purpose humanoid robots, self-reported that it closed on  billion in Series C funding at an eye-popping  billion valuation.

By comparison, Peggy Johnson, CEO of Agility Robotics, is surprisingly measured. We spoke by phone last week, just after the company announced plans to go public through a merger with Michael Klein’s Churchill Capital Corp XI, a special purpose acquisition company, or SPAC. The deal values Agility at around .5 billion and is expected to raise more than 0 million in gross proceeds, the largest capital raise in humanoid robotics history. It hasn’t closed yet; the merger still needs shareholder approval and SEC review, and is expected to be completed later this year.







Agility was founded in 2015 as a spinoff from Oregon State University. Based in Salem, Oregon, the company makes bipedal humanoid robots designed to work in warehouses and factories. Its SPAC maneuver is notable for a few reasons. It would make Agility the first pure-play humanoid robotics company to trade on public markets, giving retail investors direct exposure to a sector that has so far been available primarily to deep-pocketed VC funds. It also offers a rare window into the finances of a business in a space where most competitors closely guard their numbers and even the state of the tech they are building.

Johnson — formerly executive vice president of business development at Microsoft, where she helped engineer the  billion acquisition of LinkedIn, and later CEO of Magic Leap, the once-hyped augmented reality headset maker — was careful throughout our conversation. She declined to offer forward-looking financial guidance, declined to disclose the bill of materials for Agility’s flagship robot Digit, and pushed back politely whenever questions veered toward speculation.

Asked why Agility is going public via a SPAC rather than raising another private round — a structure that skips the roadshow and pricing scrutiny of a traditional IPO — Johnson said much of it boils down to the first-mover advantage the company enjoys when it’s the first of its ilk to go public. For investors clamoring for shares in a buzzy robotics company, Agility is “an acceleration story and a timing story,” she said. The proceeds will also help Agility ramp up production at its 70,000-square-foot manufacturing facility in Salem, Oregon, and fulfill an existing pipeline of customer orders. 

As for the troubled reputation of SPACs — many companies that went public that way in 2021 famously fizzled out entirely or trade well below their offering price — Johnson was unfazed. “If we just keep our head down, keep delivering customer by customer, robot by robot, we hopefully won’t experience the same volatility,” she said. “Our biggest competitor right now is just us. How quickly we can execute, how quickly we can continue to add new skills.”

The pipeline goes well beyond pilots, Johnson told TechCrunch, pointing to more than 0 million in booked, multi-year revenue that represents roughly 1,000 robots that are part of a robots-as-a-service model in which customers pay a monthly fee rather than purchasing the machines outright. “Everybody on our list right now is already vetted, and they have deployment plans behind their proof of concepts,” Johnson said. Customers include GXO Logistics, Amazon, Toyota Motor Manufacturing Canada, Schaeffler, and Mercado Libre.


Digit itself is a deliberately unfussy piece of hardware. It stands about 5’9″, weighs around 160 pounds, and is designed to do one thing exceptionally well, which is move heavy objects in human-built spaces. Its most distinctive feature is a set of reverse-bend knees — they’ve been called “bird legs” — that allow it to reach from floor level to overhead shelving without the knees colliding with warehouse racking. (Agility’s founders, Johnson explained, weren’t interested in biomimicry for its own sake.) The robot’s hands — two thumbs and two fingers — are similarly task-specific; they’re optimized for gripping heavy plastic totes, even as their contents shift in transit.

Johnson said Agility is “LLM-agnostic,” drawing on models including Claude and Gemini to handle what she calls the semantic layer — translating high-level instructions into robot behavior. She described a recent test in which engineers scattered different types of trash on the floor and told Digit simply to “clean up this mess.” The robot assessed, sorted, and binned everything correctly, including correctly identifying bubble wrap as non-recyclable.

Of course, it’s the physical layer — the mechanics of balance, locomotion, and manipulation — that Agility considers its core proprietary advantage, one built up over more than a decade of real-world deployment. “The LLMs had the entire internet to train on,” she said. “When you think about the physical AI of humanoids — that doesn’t quite exist yet.” At most companies, anyway. Johnson believes Agility is the exception: “We may have the largest data lake of actual operating robotics data in real-world environments.”







Beyond raw data, Johnson said, safety is where the gulf between Agility and its competitors is biggest and most consequential. While rival companies showcase their robots in lab demos and choreographed videos, Agility has had to meet actual industrial safety certification requirements to operate inside customer facilities. “You can’t build your robot and then make it safe,” she said. “That’s a redesign. You have to have all of the safety certified — the electrical system, all of the parts, and the software to support all of that.” (It’s not a trivial concern given that humans are often somewhere in the room. Back in November, Figure AI’s former head of product safety sued the company, alleging he was fired after raising concerns that its robots were powerful enough to fracture a human skull. Figure has disputed the claims.)

As for the home, Johnson thinks humanoids will get there eventually, but she said not to expect them to deliver breakfast in bed anytime soon. It’ll be “10-plus years,” she said of the timeline, observing that warehouses and factories, for all their complexity, have fixed aisles and predictable equipment and workflows unlike homes that are chaotic, with dogs, babies, visitors, and objects left in unexpected places. 

“At least roads have some discipline to them,” Johnson added, comparing the challenge to that of autonomous vehicles. “Most of the areas that humanoids will be operating in don’t.”

Agility isn’t ruling out the home market. Johnson said the company will enter it when it makes sense. For now, though, it’s laser focused on the warehouse market, given the growing numbers of retiring workers and younger workers who aren’t willing to take physically demanding roles. “There’s something like over a million jobs in the US today in these areas that are unfilled,” she said. “They’re just very, very hard to hire for.”
When you purchase through links in our articles, we may earn a small commission. This doesn’t affect our editorial independence.#humanoid #robotics #company #public #CEO #isnt #promising #robot #home #anytime #TechCrunchagility robotics,Peggy Johnson,SPAC

$735 million at a nearly $3 billion valuation. Earlier this year, Apptronik, an Austin-based maker of humanoid robots for manufacturing and logistics, closed a $935 million funding round valuing the company at more than $5.5 billion. Last fall, Figure AI, a San Jose-based startup developing general-purpose humanoid robots, self-reported that it closed on $1 billion in Series C funding at an eye-popping $39 billion valuation.

By comparison, Peggy Johnson, CEO of Agility Robotics, is surprisingly measured. We spoke by phone last week, just after the company announced plans to go public through a merger with Michael Klein’s Churchill Capital Corp XI, a special purpose acquisition company, or SPAC. The deal values Agility at around $2.5 billion and is expected to raise more than $620 million in gross proceeds, the largest capital raise in humanoid robotics history. It hasn’t closed yet; the merger still needs shareholder approval and SEC review, and is expected to be completed later this year.

Agility was founded in 2015 as a spinoff from Oregon State University. Based in Salem, Oregon, the company makes bipedal humanoid robots designed to work in warehouses and factories. Its SPAC maneuver is notable for a few reasons. It would make Agility the first pure-play humanoid robotics company to trade on public markets, giving retail investors direct exposure to a sector that has so far been available primarily to deep-pocketed VC funds. It also offers a rare window into the finances of a business in a space where most competitors closely guard their numbers and even the state of the tech they are building.

Johnson — formerly executive vice president of business development at Microsoft, where she helped engineer the $26 billion acquisition of LinkedIn, and later CEO of Magic Leap, the once-hyped augmented reality headset maker — was careful throughout our conversation. She declined to offer forward-looking financial guidance, declined to disclose the bill of materials for Agility’s flagship robot Digit, and pushed back politely whenever questions veered toward speculation.

Asked why Agility is going public via a SPAC rather than raising another private round — a structure that skips the roadshow and pricing scrutiny of a traditional IPO — Johnson said much of it boils down to the first-mover advantage the company enjoys when it’s the first of its ilk to go public. For investors clamoring for shares in a buzzy robotics company, Agility is “an acceleration story and a timing story,” she said. The proceeds will also help Agility ramp up production at its 70,000-square-foot manufacturing facility in Salem, Oregon, and fulfill an existing pipeline of customer orders.

As for the troubled reputation of SPACs — many companies that went public that way in 2021 famously fizzled out entirely or trade well below their offering price — Johnson was unfazed. “If we just keep our head down, keep delivering customer by customer, robot by robot, we hopefully won’t experience the same volatility,” she said. “Our biggest competitor right now is just us. How quickly we can execute, how quickly we can continue to add new skills.”

The pipeline goes well beyond pilots, Johnson told TechCrunch, pointing to more than $300 million in booked, multi-year revenue that represents roughly 1,000 robots that are part of a robots-as-a-service model in which customers pay a monthly fee rather than purchasing the machines outright. “Everybody on our list right now is already vetted, and they have deployment plans behind their proof of concepts,” Johnson said. Customers include GXO Logistics, Amazon, Toyota Motor Manufacturing Canada, Schaeffler, and Mercado Libre.

Digit itself is a deliberately unfussy piece of hardware. It stands about 5’9″, weighs around 160 pounds, and is designed to do one thing exceptionally well, which is move heavy objects in human-built spaces. Its most distinctive feature is a set of reverse-bend knees — they’ve been called “bird legs” — that allow it to reach from floor level to overhead shelving without the knees colliding with warehouse racking. (Agility’s founders, Johnson explained, weren’t interested in biomimicry for its own sake.) The robot’s hands — two thumbs and two fingers — are similarly task-specific; they’re optimized for gripping heavy plastic totes, even as their contents shift in transit.

Johnson said Agility is “LLM-agnostic,” drawing on models including Claude and Gemini to handle what she calls the semantic layer — translating high-level instructions into robot behavior. She described a recent test in which engineers scattered different types of trash on the floor and told Digit simply to “clean up this mess.” The robot assessed, sorted, and binned everything correctly, including correctly identifying bubble wrap as non-recyclable.

Of course, it’s the physical layer — the mechanics of balance, locomotion, and manipulation — that Agility considers its core proprietary advantage, one built up over more than a decade of real-world deployment. “The LLMs had the entire internet to train on,” she said. “When you think about the physical AI of humanoids — that doesn’t quite exist yet.” At most companies, anyway. Johnson believes Agility is the exception: “We may have the largest data lake of actual operating robotics data in real-world environments.”

Beyond raw data, Johnson said, safety is where the gulf between Agility and its competitors is biggest and most consequential. While rival companies showcase their robots in lab demos and choreographed videos, Agility has had to meet actual industrial safety certification requirements to operate inside customer facilities. “You can’t build your robot and then make it safe,” she said. “That’s a redesign. You have to have all of the safety certified — the electrical system, all of the parts, and the software to support all of that.” (It’s not a trivial concern given that humans are often somewhere in the room. Back in November, Figure AI’s former head of product safety sued the company, alleging he was fired after raising concerns that its robots were powerful enough to fracture a human skull. Figure has disputed the claims.)

As for the home, Johnson thinks humanoids will get there eventually, but she said not to expect them to deliver breakfast in bed anytime soon. It’ll be “10-plus years,” she said of the timeline, observing that warehouses and factories, for all their complexity, have fixed aisles and predictable equipment and workflows unlike homes that are chaotic, with dogs, babies, visitors, and objects left in unexpected places.

“At least roads have some discipline to them,” Johnson added, comparing the challenge to that of autonomous vehicles. “Most of the areas that humanoids will be operating in don’t.”

Agility isn’t ruling out the home market. Johnson said the company will enter it when it makes sense. For now, though, it’s laser focused on the warehouse market, given the growing numbers of retiring workers and younger workers who aren’t willing to take physically demanding roles. “There’s something like over a million jobs in the US today in these areas that are unfilled,” she said. “They’re just very, very hard to hire for.”

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#humanoid #robotics #company #public #CEO #isnt #promising #robot #home #anytime #TechCrunchagility robotics,Peggy Johnson,SPAC">This humanoid robotics company is going public, but its CEO isn’t promising a robot in your home anytime soon | TechCrunch

The humanoid robotics market is awash in money right now. Last week, AI2 Robotics, a Shenzhen-based startup that makes wheeled humanoid robots, raised roughly $735 million at a nearly $3 billion valuation. Earlier this year, Apptronik, an Austin-based maker of humanoid robots for manufacturing and logistics, closed a $935 million funding round valuing the company at more than $5.5 billion. Last fall, Figure AI, a San Jose-based startup developing general-purpose humanoid robots, self-reported that it closed on $1 billion in Series C funding at an eye-popping $39 billion valuation.

By comparison, Peggy Johnson, CEO of Agility Robotics, is surprisingly measured. We spoke by phone last week, just after the company announced plans to go public through a merger with Michael Klein’s Churchill Capital Corp XI, a special purpose acquisition company, or SPAC. The deal values Agility at around $2.5 billion and is expected to raise more than $620 million in gross proceeds, the largest capital raise in humanoid robotics history. It hasn’t closed yet; the merger still needs shareholder approval and SEC review, and is expected to be completed later this year.

Agility was founded in 2015 as a spinoff from Oregon State University. Based in Salem, Oregon, the company makes bipedal humanoid robots designed to work in warehouses and factories. Its SPAC maneuver is notable for a few reasons. It would make Agility the first pure-play humanoid robotics company to trade on public markets, giving retail investors direct exposure to a sector that has so far been available primarily to deep-pocketed VC funds. It also offers a rare window into the finances of a business in a space where most competitors closely guard their numbers and even the state of the tech they are building.

Johnson — formerly executive vice president of business development at Microsoft, where she helped engineer the $26 billion acquisition of LinkedIn, and later CEO of Magic Leap, the once-hyped augmented reality headset maker — was careful throughout our conversation. She declined to offer forward-looking financial guidance, declined to disclose the bill of materials for Agility’s flagship robot Digit, and pushed back politely whenever questions veered toward speculation.

Asked why Agility is going public via a SPAC rather than raising another private round — a structure that skips the roadshow and pricing scrutiny of a traditional IPO — Johnson said much of it boils down to the first-mover advantage the company enjoys when it’s the first of its ilk to go public. For investors clamoring for shares in a buzzy robotics company, Agility is “an acceleration story and a timing story,” she said. The proceeds will also help Agility ramp up production at its 70,000-square-foot manufacturing facility in Salem, Oregon, and fulfill an existing pipeline of customer orders.

As for the troubled reputation of SPACs — many companies that went public that way in 2021 famously fizzled out entirely or trade well below their offering price — Johnson was unfazed. “If we just keep our head down, keep delivering customer by customer, robot by robot, we hopefully won’t experience the same volatility,” she said. “Our biggest competitor right now is just us. How quickly we can execute, how quickly we can continue to add new skills.”

The pipeline goes well beyond pilots, Johnson told TechCrunch, pointing to more than $300 million in booked, multi-year revenue that represents roughly 1,000 robots that are part of a robots-as-a-service model in which customers pay a monthly fee rather than purchasing the machines outright. “Everybody on our list right now is already vetted, and they have deployment plans behind their proof of concepts,” Johnson said. Customers include GXO Logistics, Amazon, Toyota Motor Manufacturing Canada, Schaeffler, and Mercado Libre.

Digit itself is a deliberately unfussy piece of hardware. It stands about 5’9″, weighs around 160 pounds, and is designed to do one thing exceptionally well, which is move heavy objects in human-built spaces. Its most distinctive feature is a set of reverse-bend knees — they’ve been called “bird legs” — that allow it to reach from floor level to overhead shelving without the knees colliding with warehouse racking. (Agility’s founders, Johnson explained, weren’t interested in biomimicry for its own sake.) The robot’s hands — two thumbs and two fingers — are similarly task-specific; they’re optimized for gripping heavy plastic totes, even as their contents shift in transit.

Johnson said Agility is “LLM-agnostic,” drawing on models including Claude and Gemini to handle what she calls the semantic layer — translating high-level instructions into robot behavior. She described a recent test in which engineers scattered different types of trash on the floor and told Digit simply to “clean up this mess.” The robot assessed, sorted, and binned everything correctly, including correctly identifying bubble wrap as non-recyclable.

Of course, it’s the physical layer — the mechanics of balance, locomotion, and manipulation — that Agility considers its core proprietary advantage, one built up over more than a decade of real-world deployment. “The LLMs had the entire internet to train on,” she said. “When you think about the physical AI of humanoids — that doesn’t quite exist yet.” At most companies, anyway. Johnson believes Agility is the exception: “We may have the largest data lake of actual operating robotics data in real-world environments.”

Beyond raw data, Johnson said, safety is where the gulf between Agility and its competitors is biggest and most consequential. While rival companies showcase their robots in lab demos and choreographed videos, Agility has had to meet actual industrial safety certification requirements to operate inside customer facilities. “You can’t build your robot and then make it safe,” she said. “That’s a redesign. You have to have all of the safety certified — the electrical system, all of the parts, and the software to support all of that.” (It’s not a trivial concern given that humans are often somewhere in the room. Back in November, Figure AI’s former head of product safety sued the company, alleging he was fired after raising concerns that its robots were powerful enough to fracture a human skull. Figure has disputed the claims.)

As for the home, Johnson thinks humanoids will get there eventually, but she said not to expect them to deliver breakfast in bed anytime soon. It’ll be “10-plus years,” she said of the timeline, observing that warehouses and factories, for all their complexity, have fixed aisles and predictable equipment and workflows unlike homes that are chaotic, with dogs, babies, visitors, and objects left in unexpected places.

“At least roads have some discipline to them,” Johnson added, comparing the challenge to that of autonomous vehicles. “Most of the areas that humanoids will be operating in don’t.”

Agility isn’t ruling out the home market. Johnson said the company will enter it when it makes sense. For now, though, it’s laser focused on the warehouse market, given the growing numbers of retiring workers and younger workers who aren’t willing to take physically demanding roles. “There’s something like over a million jobs in the US today in these areas that are unfilled,” she said. “They’re just very, very hard to hire for.”

When you purchase through links in our articles, we may earn a small commission. This doesn’t affect our editorial independence.

#humanoid #robotics #company #public #CEO #isnt #promising #robot #home #anytime #TechCrunchagility robotics,Peggy Johnson,SPAC

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