China Insight: China’s Fashion Industry Enters the AI Era, From a Search Economy to Machine-led Discovery
A structural reset is underway in the global fashion system. Artificial intelligence is no longer…
A structural reset is underway in the global fashion system. Artificial intelligence is no longer…
When you purchase through links in our articles, we may earn a small commission. This doesn’t affect our editorial independence.
#glossary #youll #year #TechCrunchartificial intelligence,evergreens,Glossary">
Artificial general intelligence, or AGI, is a nebulous term. But it generally refers to AI that’s more capable than the average human at many, if not most, tasks. OpenAI CEO Sam Altman once described AGI as the “equivalent of a median human that you could hire as a co-worker.” Meanwhile, OpenAI’s charter defines AGI as “highly autonomous systems that outperform humans at most economically valuable work.” Google DeepMind’s understanding differs slightly from these two definitions; the lab views AGI as “AI that’s at least as capable as humans at most cognitive tasks.” Confused? Not to worry — so are experts at the forefront of AI research.
An AI agent refers to a tool that uses AI technologies to perform a series of tasks on your behalf — beyond what a more basic AI chatbot could do — such as filing expenses, booking tickets or a table at a restaurant, or even writing and maintaining code. However, as we’ve explained before, there are lots of moving pieces in this emergent space, so “AI agent” might mean different things to different people. Infrastructure is also still being built out to deliver on its envisaged capabilities. But the basic concept implies an autonomous system that may draw on multiple AI systems to carry out multistep tasks.
Think of API endpoints as “buttons” on the back of a piece of software that other programs can press to make it do things. Developers use these interfaces to build integrations — for example, allowing one application to pull data from another, or enabling an AI agent to control third-party services directly without a human manually operating each interface. Most smart home devices and connected platforms have these hidden buttons available, even if ordinary users never see or interact with them. As AI agents grow more capable, they are increasingly able to find and use these endpoints on their own, opening up powerful — and sometimes unexpected — possibilities for automation.
Given a simple question, a human brain can answer without even thinking too much about it — things like “which animal is taller, a giraffe or a cat?” But in many cases, you often need a pen and paper to come up with the right answer because there are intermediary steps. For instance, if a farmer has chickens and cows, and together they have 40 heads and 120 legs, you might need to write down a simple equation to come up with the answer (20 chickens and 20 cows).
In an AI context, chain-of-thought reasoning for large language models means breaking down a problem into smaller, intermediate steps to improve the quality of the end result. It usually takes longer to get an answer, but the answer is more likely to be correct, especially in a logic or coding context. Reasoning models are developed from traditional large language models and optimized for chain-of-thought thinking thanks to reinforcement learning.
(See: Large language model)
This is a more specific concept that an “AI agent,” which means a program that can take actions on its own, step by step, to complete a goal. A coding agent is a specialized version applied to software development. Rather than simply suggesting code for a human to review and paste in, a coding agent can write, test, and debug code autonomously, handling the kind of iterative, trial-and-error work that typically consumes a developer’s day. These agents can operate across entire codebases, spotting bugs, running tests, and pushing fixes with minimal human oversight. Think of it like hiring a very fast intern who never sleeps and never loses focus — though, as with any intern, a human still needs to review the work.
Although somewhat of a multivalent term, compute generally refers to the vital computational power that allows AI models to operate. This type of processing fuels the AI industry, giving it the ability to train and deploy its powerful models. The term is often a shorthand for the kinds of hardware that provides the computational power — things like GPUs, CPUs, TPUs, and other forms of infrastructure that form the bedrock of the modern AI industry.
A subset of self-improving machine learning in which AI algorithms are designed with a multi-layered, artificial neural network (ANN) structure. This allows them to make more complex correlations compared to simpler machine learning-based systems, such as linear models or decision trees. The structure of deep learning algorithms draws inspiration from the interconnected pathways of neurons in the human brain.
Deep learning AI models are able to identify important characteristics in data themselves, rather than requiring human engineers to define these features. The structure also supports algorithms that can learn from errors and, through a process of repetition and adjustment, improve their own outputs. However, deep learning systems require a lot of data points to yield good results (millions or more). They also typically take longer to train compared to simpler machine learning algorithms — so development costs tend to be higher.
(See: Neural network)
Diffusion is the tech at the heart of many art-, music-, and text-generating AI models. Inspired by physics, diffusion systems slowly “destroy” the structure of data — for example, photos, songs, and so on — by adding noise until there’s nothing left. In physics, diffusion is spontaneous and irreversible — sugar diffused in coffee can’t be restored to cube form. But diffusion systems in AI aim to learn a sort of “reverse diffusion” process to restore the destroyed data, gaining the ability to recover the data from noise.
Distillation is a technique used to extract knowledge from a large AI model with a ‘teacher-student’ model. Developers send requests to a teacher model and record the outputs. Answers are sometimes compared with a dataset to see how accurate they are. These outputs are then used to train the student model, which is trained to approximate the teacher’s behavior.
Distillation can be used to create a smaller, more efficient model based on a larger model with a minimal distillation loss. This is likely how OpenAI developed GPT-4 Turbo, a faster version of GPT-4.
While all AI companies use distillation internally, it may have also been used by some AI companies to catch up with frontier models. Distillation from a competitor usually violates the terms of service of AI API and chat assistants.
This refers to the further training of an AI model to optimize performance for a more specific task or area than was previously a focal point of its training — typically by feeding in new, specialized (i.e., task-oriented) data.
Many AI startups are taking large language models as a starting point to build a commercial product but are vying to amp up utility for a target sector or task by supplementing earlier training cycles with fine-tuning based on their own domain-specific knowledge and expertise.
(See: Large language model [LLM])
A GAN, or Generative Adversarial Network, is a type of machine learning framework that underpins some important developments in generative AI when it comes to producing realistic data — including (but not only) deepfake tools. GANs involve the use of a pair of neural networks, one of which draws on its training data to generate an output that is passed to the other model to evaluate.
The two models are essentially programmed to try to outdo each other. The generator is trying to get its output past the discriminator, while the discriminator is working to spot artificially generated data. This structured contest can optimize AI outputs to be more realistic without the need for additional human intervention. Though GANs work best for narrower applications (such as producing realistic photos or videos), rather than general purpose AI.
Hallucination is the AI industry’s preferred term for AI models making stuff up — literally generating information that is incorrect. Obviously, it’s a huge problem for AI quality.
Hallucinations produce GenAI outputs that can be misleading and could even lead to real-life risks — with potentially dangerous consequences (think of a health query that returns harmful medical advice).
The problem of AIs fabricating information is thought to arise as a consequence of gaps in training data. Hallucinations are contributing to a push toward increasingly specialized and/or vertical AI models — i.e. domain-specific AIs that require narrower expertise — as a way to reduce the likelihood of knowledge gaps and shrink disinformation risks.
Inference is the process of running an AI model. It’s setting a model loose to make predictions or draw conclusions from previously seen data. To be clear, inference can’t happen without training; a model must learn patterns in a set of data before it can effectively extrapolate from this training data.
Many types of hardware can perform inference, ranging from smartphone processors to beefy GPUs to custom-designed AI accelerators. But not all of them can run models equally well. Very large models would take ages to make predictions on, say, a laptop versus a cloud server with high-end AI chips.
[See: Training]
Large language models, or LLMs, are the AI models used by popular AI assistants, such as ChatGPT, Claude, Google’s Gemini, Meta’s AI Llama, Microsoft Copilot, or Mistral’s Le Chat. When you chat with an AI assistant, you interact with a large language model that processes your request directly or with the help of different available tools, such as web browsing or code interpreters.
LLMs are deep neural networks made of billions of numerical parameters (or weights, see below) that learn the relationships between words and phrases and create a representation of language, a sort of multidimensional map of words.
These models are created from encoding the patterns they find in billions of books, articles, and transcripts. When you prompt an LLM, the model generates the most likely pattern that fits the prompt.
(See: Neural network)
Memory cache refers to an important process that boosts inference (which is the process by which AI works to generate a response to a user’s query). In essence, caching is an optimization technique, designed to make inference more efficient. AI is obviously driven by high-octane mathematical calculations and every time those calculations are made, they use up more power. Caching is designed to cut down on the number of calculations a model might have to run by saving particular calculations for future user queries and operations. There are different kinds of memory caching, although one of the more well-known is KV (or key value) caching. KV caching works in transformer-based models, and increases efficiency, driving faster results by reducing the amount of time (and algorithmic labor) it takes to generate answers to user questions.
(See: Inference)
Model Context Protocol, or MCP, is an open standard that lets AI models connect to outside tools and data — your files, databases, or apps like Slack and Google Drive — without a developer building a custom connector for every single pairing. Think of it as a USB-C port for AI. Anthropic introduced MCP in 2024 and later handed it over to the Linux Foundation, and it’s since been adopted by OpenAI, Google, and Microsoft, making it one of the fastest-spreading standards in recent AI history.
Mixture of Experts is a model architecture that splits a neural network into many smaller specialized sub-networks, or “experts,” and only activates a handful of them for any given task. Rather than routing every request through the entire model — like calling in your whole office for every question — an MoE model has a built-in “router” that picks just the right specialists for the job. This makes it possible to build enormous models that stay relatively fast and cheap to run, since only a fraction of the network is doing work at any one time. Mistral AI’s Mixtral model is a well-known example; OpenAI’s newer GPT models are also widely believed to use some version of this approach, though the company has never officially confirmed it.
(See: Neural network, Deep learning)
A neural network refers to the multi-layered algorithmic structure that underpins deep learning — and, more broadly, the whole boom in generative AI tools following the emergence of large language models.
Although the idea of taking inspiration from the densely interconnected pathways of the human brain as a design structure for data processing algorithms dates all the way back to the 1940s, it was the much more recent rise of graphical processing hardware (GPUs) — via the video game industry — that really unlocked the power of this theory. These chips proved well suited to training algorithms with many more layers than was possible in earlier epochs — enabling neural network-based AI systems to achieve far better performance across many domains, including voice recognition, autonomous navigation, and drug discovery.
(See: Large language model [LLM])
Open source refers to software — or, increasingly, AI models — where the underlying code is made publicly available for anyone to use, inspect, or modify. In the AI world, Meta’s Llama family of models is a prominent example; Linux is the famous historical parallel in operating systems. Open source approaches allow researchers, developers, and companies around the world to build on top of one another’s work, accelerating progress and enabling independent safety audits that closed systems cannot easily provide. Closed source means the code is private — you can use the product but not see how it works, as is the case with OpenAI’s GPT models — a distinction that has become one of the defining debates in the AI industry.
Parallelization means doing many things at the same time instead of one after another — like having 10 employees working on different parts of a project at the same time instead of one employee doing everything sequentially. In AI, parallelization is fundamental to both training and inference: modern GPUs are specifically designed to perform thousands of calculations in parallel, which is a big reason why they became the hardware backbone of the industry. As AI systems grow more complex and models grow larger, the ability to parallelize work across many chips and many machines has become one of the most important factors in determining how quickly and cost-effectively models can be built and deployed. Research into better parallelization strategies is now a field of study in its own right.
RAMageddon is the fun new term for a not-so-fun trend that is sweeping the tech industry: an ever-increasing shortage of random access memory, or RAM chips, which power pretty much all the tech products we use in our daily lives. As the AI industry has blossomed, the biggest tech companies and AI labs — all vying to have the most powerful and efficient AI — are buying so much RAM to power their data centers that there’s not much left for the rest of us. And that supply bottleneck means that what’s left is getting more and more expensive.
That includes industries like gaming (where major companies have had to raise prices on consoles because it’s harder to find memory chips for their devices), consumer electronics (where memory shortage could cause the biggest dip in smartphone shipments in more than a decade), and general enterprise computing (because those companies can’t get enough RAM for their own data centers). The surge in prices is only expected to stop after the dreaded shortage ends but, unfortunately, there’s not really much of a sign that’s going to happen anytime soon.
Like AGI, recursive self-improvement is a threshhold for how smart AI can get, and how little it may rely on humans. In the RSI scenario, AI models start improving themselves without human intervention, leading to a huge acceleration in capabilities and autonomy. In some tellings, this would be a cataclysmic moment akin to the singularity, a moment when AI models become immune to outside intervention. But RSI also describes a basic capability — can an AI model design its own successor? — which makes it much easier for engineers to try to build it. A number of recent AI startups have set out to build recursively self-improving models, but most of them dismiss the apocalyptic implications, presenting RSI as simply the next frontier for research.
Reinforcement learning is a way of training AI where a system learns by trying things and receiving rewards for correct answers — like training your beloved pet with treats, except the “pet” in this scenario is a neural network and the “treat” is a mathematical signal indicating success. Unlike supervised learning, where a model is trained on a fixed dataset of labeled examples, reinforcement learning lets a model explore its environment, take actions, and continuously update its behavior based on the feedback it receives. This approach has proven especially powerful for training AI to play games, control robots, and, more recently, sharpen the reasoning ability of large language models. Techniques like reinforcement learning from human feedback, or RLHF, are now central to how leading AI labs fine-tune their models to be more helpful, accurate, and safe.
When it comes to human-machine communication, there are some obvious challenges — people communicate using human language, while AI programs execute tasks through complex algorithmic processes informed by data. Tokens bridge that gap: they are the basic building blocks of human-AI communication, representing discrete segments of data that have been processed or produced by an LLM. They are created through a process called tokenization, which breaks down raw text into bite-sized units a language model can digest, similar to how a compiler translates human language into binary code a computer can understand. In enterprise settings, tokens also determine cost — most AI companies charge for LLM usage on a per-token basis, meaning the more a business uses, the more it pays.
So again, tokens are the small chunks of text — often parts of words rather than whole ones — that AI language models break language into before processing it; they are roughly analogous to “words” for the purposes of understanding AI workloads. Throughput refers to how much can be processed in a given period of time, so token throughput is essentially a measure of how much AI work a system can handle at once. High token throughput is a key goal for AI infrastructure teams, since it determines how many users a model can serve simultaneously and how quickly each of them receives a response. AI researcher Andrej Karpathy has described feeling anxious when his AI subscriptions sit idle — echoing the feeling he had as a grad student when expensive computer hardware wasn’t being fully utilized — a sentiment that captures why maximizing token throughput has become something of an obsession in the field.
Developing machine learning AIs involves a process known as training. In simple terms, this refers to data being fed in in order that the model can learn from patterns and generate useful outputs. Essentially, it’s the process of the system responding to characteristics in the data that enables it to adapt outputs toward a sought-for goal — whether that’s identifying images of cats or producing a haiku on demand.
Training can be expensive because it requires lots of inputs, and the volumes required have been trending upwards — which is why hybrid approaches, such as fine-tuning a rules-based AI with targeted data, can help manage costs without starting entirely from scratch.
[See: Inference]
A technique where a previously trained AI model is used as the starting point for developing a new model for a different but typically related task — allowing knowledge gained in previous training cycles to be reapplied.
Transfer learning can drive efficiency savings by shortcutting model development. It can also be useful when data for the task that the model is being developed for is somewhat limited. But it’s important to note that the approach has limitations. Models that rely on transfer learning to gain generalized capabilities will likely require training on additional data in order to perform well in their domain of focus
(See: Fine tuning)
Validation loss is a number that tells you how well an AI model is learning during training — and lower is better. Researchers track it closely as a kind of real-time report card, using it to decide when to stop training, when to adjust hyperparameters, or whether to investigate a potential problem. One of the key concerns it helps flag is overfitting, a condition in which a model memorizes its training data rather than truly learning patterns it can generalize to new situations. Think of it as the difference between a student who genuinely understands the material and one who simply memorized last year’s exam — validation loss helps reveal which one your model is becoming.
Weights are core to AI training, as they determine how much importance (or weight) is given to different features (or input variables) in the data used for training the system — thereby shaping the AI model’s output.
Put another way, weights are numerical parameters that define what’s most salient in a dataset for the given training task. They achieve their function by applying multiplication to inputs. Model training typically begins with weights that are randomly assigned, but as the process unfolds, the weights adjust as the model seeks to arrive at an output that more closely matches the target.
For example, an AI model for predicting housing prices that’s trained on historical real estate data for a target location could include weights for features such as the number of bedrooms and bathrooms, whether a property is detached or semi-detached, whether it has parking, a garage, and so on.
Ultimately, the weights the model attaches to each of these inputs reflect how much they influence the value of a property, based on the given dataset.
This article is updated regularly with new information.
When you purchase through links in our articles, we may earn a small commission. This doesn’t affect our editorial independence.
#glossary #youll #year #TechCrunchartificial intelligence,evergreens,Glossary">The only AI glossary you’ll need this year | TechCrunchArtificial intelligence is rewriting the world, and simultaneously inventing a whole new language to describe how it’s doing it. Sit in on any product meeting, pitch, or panel these days, and you’ll hear people toss around LLMs, RAG, RLHF, and a dozen other terms that can make even very smart people in the tech world feel a little insecure. This glossary is our attempt to fix that: pain-English definitions of the AI terms you’re most likely to actually run into, whether you’re building with this stuff, investing in it, or just trying to keep up by reading TechCrunch or listening to related podcasts. We update it regularly as the field evolves, so consider it a living document, much like the AI systems it describes.
Artificial general intelligence, or AGI, is a nebulous term. But it generally refers to AI that’s more capable than the average human at many, if not most, tasks. OpenAI CEO Sam Altman once described AGI as the “equivalent of a median human that you could hire as a co-worker.” Meanwhile, OpenAI’s charter defines AGI as “highly autonomous systems that outperform humans at most economically valuable work.” Google DeepMind’s understanding differs slightly from these two definitions; the lab views AGI as “AI that’s at least as capable as humans at most cognitive tasks.” Confused? Not to worry — so are experts at the forefront of AI research.
An AI agent refers to a tool that uses AI technologies to perform a series of tasks on your behalf — beyond what a more basic AI chatbot could do — such as filing expenses, booking tickets or a table at a restaurant, or even writing and maintaining code. However, as we’ve explained before, there are lots of moving pieces in this emergent space, so “AI agent” might mean different things to different people. Infrastructure is also still being built out to deliver on its envisaged capabilities. But the basic concept implies an autonomous system that may draw on multiple AI systems to carry out multistep tasks.
Think of API endpoints as “buttons” on the back of a piece of software that other programs can press to make it do things. Developers use these interfaces to build integrations — for example, allowing one application to pull data from another, or enabling an AI agent to control third-party services directly without a human manually operating each interface. Most smart home devices and connected platforms have these hidden buttons available, even if ordinary users never see or interact with them. As AI agents grow more capable, they are increasingly able to find and use these endpoints on their own, opening up powerful — and sometimes unexpected — possibilities for automation.
Given a simple question, a human brain can answer without even thinking too much about it — things like “which animal is taller, a giraffe or a cat?” But in many cases, you often need a pen and paper to come up with the right answer because there are intermediary steps. For instance, if a farmer has chickens and cows, and together they have 40 heads and 120 legs, you might need to write down a simple equation to come up with the answer (20 chickens and 20 cows).
In an AI context, chain-of-thought reasoning for large language models means breaking down a problem into smaller, intermediate steps to improve the quality of the end result. It usually takes longer to get an answer, but the answer is more likely to be correct, especially in a logic or coding context. Reasoning models are developed from traditional large language models and optimized for chain-of-thought thinking thanks to reinforcement learning.
(See: Large language model)
This is a more specific concept that an “AI agent,” which means a program that can take actions on its own, step by step, to complete a goal. A coding agent is a specialized version applied to software development. Rather than simply suggesting code for a human to review and paste in, a coding agent can write, test, and debug code autonomously, handling the kind of iterative, trial-and-error work that typically consumes a developer’s day. These agents can operate across entire codebases, spotting bugs, running tests, and pushing fixes with minimal human oversight. Think of it like hiring a very fast intern who never sleeps and never loses focus — though, as with any intern, a human still needs to review the work.
Although somewhat of a multivalent term, compute generally refers to the vital computational power that allows AI models to operate. This type of processing fuels the AI industry, giving it the ability to train and deploy its powerful models. The term is often a shorthand for the kinds of hardware that provides the computational power — things like GPUs, CPUs, TPUs, and other forms of infrastructure that form the bedrock of the modern AI industry.
A subset of self-improving machine learning in which AI algorithms are designed with a multi-layered, artificial neural network (ANN) structure. This allows them to make more complex correlations compared to simpler machine learning-based systems, such as linear models or decision trees. The structure of deep learning algorithms draws inspiration from the interconnected pathways of neurons in the human brain.
Deep learning AI models are able to identify important characteristics in data themselves, rather than requiring human engineers to define these features. The structure also supports algorithms that can learn from errors and, through a process of repetition and adjustment, improve their own outputs. However, deep learning systems require a lot of data points to yield good results (millions or more). They also typically take longer to train compared to simpler machine learning algorithms — so development costs tend to be higher.
(See: Neural network)
Diffusion is the tech at the heart of many art-, music-, and text-generating AI models. Inspired by physics, diffusion systems slowly “destroy” the structure of data — for example, photos, songs, and so on — by adding noise until there’s nothing left. In physics, diffusion is spontaneous and irreversible — sugar diffused in coffee can’t be restored to cube form. But diffusion systems in AI aim to learn a sort of “reverse diffusion” process to restore the destroyed data, gaining the ability to recover the data from noise.
Distillation is a technique used to extract knowledge from a large AI model with a ‘teacher-student’ model. Developers send requests to a teacher model and record the outputs. Answers are sometimes compared with a dataset to see how accurate they are. These outputs are then used to train the student model, which is trained to approximate the teacher’s behavior.
Distillation can be used to create a smaller, more efficient model based on a larger model with a minimal distillation loss. This is likely how OpenAI developed GPT-4 Turbo, a faster version of GPT-4.
While all AI companies use distillation internally, it may have also been used by some AI companies to catch up with frontier models. Distillation from a competitor usually violates the terms of service of AI API and chat assistants.
This refers to the further training of an AI model to optimize performance for a more specific task or area than was previously a focal point of its training — typically by feeding in new, specialized (i.e., task-oriented) data.
Many AI startups are taking large language models as a starting point to build a commercial product but are vying to amp up utility for a target sector or task by supplementing earlier training cycles with fine-tuning based on their own domain-specific knowledge and expertise.
(See: Large language model [LLM])
A GAN, or Generative Adversarial Network, is a type of machine learning framework that underpins some important developments in generative AI when it comes to producing realistic data — including (but not only) deepfake tools. GANs involve the use of a pair of neural networks, one of which draws on its training data to generate an output that is passed to the other model to evaluate.
The two models are essentially programmed to try to outdo each other. The generator is trying to get its output past the discriminator, while the discriminator is working to spot artificially generated data. This structured contest can optimize AI outputs to be more realistic without the need for additional human intervention. Though GANs work best for narrower applications (such as producing realistic photos or videos), rather than general purpose AI.
Hallucination is the AI industry’s preferred term for AI models making stuff up — literally generating information that is incorrect. Obviously, it’s a huge problem for AI quality.
Hallucinations produce GenAI outputs that can be misleading and could even lead to real-life risks — with potentially dangerous consequences (think of a health query that returns harmful medical advice).
The problem of AIs fabricating information is thought to arise as a consequence of gaps in training data. Hallucinations are contributing to a push toward increasingly specialized and/or vertical AI models — i.e. domain-specific AIs that require narrower expertise — as a way to reduce the likelihood of knowledge gaps and shrink disinformation risks.
Inference is the process of running an AI model. It’s setting a model loose to make predictions or draw conclusions from previously seen data. To be clear, inference can’t happen without training; a model must learn patterns in a set of data before it can effectively extrapolate from this training data.
Many types of hardware can perform inference, ranging from smartphone processors to beefy GPUs to custom-designed AI accelerators. But not all of them can run models equally well. Very large models would take ages to make predictions on, say, a laptop versus a cloud server with high-end AI chips.
[See: Training]
Large language models, or LLMs, are the AI models used by popular AI assistants, such as ChatGPT, Claude, Google’s Gemini, Meta’s AI Llama, Microsoft Copilot, or Mistral’s Le Chat. When you chat with an AI assistant, you interact with a large language model that processes your request directly or with the help of different available tools, such as web browsing or code interpreters.
LLMs are deep neural networks made of billions of numerical parameters (or weights, see below) that learn the relationships between words and phrases and create a representation of language, a sort of multidimensional map of words.
These models are created from encoding the patterns they find in billions of books, articles, and transcripts. When you prompt an LLM, the model generates the most likely pattern that fits the prompt.
(See: Neural network)
Memory cache refers to an important process that boosts inference (which is the process by which AI works to generate a response to a user’s query). In essence, caching is an optimization technique, designed to make inference more efficient. AI is obviously driven by high-octane mathematical calculations and every time those calculations are made, they use up more power. Caching is designed to cut down on the number of calculations a model might have to run by saving particular calculations for future user queries and operations. There are different kinds of memory caching, although one of the more well-known is KV (or key value) caching. KV caching works in transformer-based models, and increases efficiency, driving faster results by reducing the amount of time (and algorithmic labor) it takes to generate answers to user questions.
(See: Inference)
Model Context Protocol, or MCP, is an open standard that lets AI models connect to outside tools and data — your files, databases, or apps like Slack and Google Drive — without a developer building a custom connector for every single pairing. Think of it as a USB-C port for AI. Anthropic introduced MCP in 2024 and later handed it over to the Linux Foundation, and it’s since been adopted by OpenAI, Google, and Microsoft, making it one of the fastest-spreading standards in recent AI history.
Mixture of Experts is a model architecture that splits a neural network into many smaller specialized sub-networks, or “experts,” and only activates a handful of them for any given task. Rather than routing every request through the entire model — like calling in your whole office for every question — an MoE model has a built-in “router” that picks just the right specialists for the job. This makes it possible to build enormous models that stay relatively fast and cheap to run, since only a fraction of the network is doing work at any one time. Mistral AI’s Mixtral model is a well-known example; OpenAI’s newer GPT models are also widely believed to use some version of this approach, though the company has never officially confirmed it.
(See: Neural network, Deep learning)
A neural network refers to the multi-layered algorithmic structure that underpins deep learning — and, more broadly, the whole boom in generative AI tools following the emergence of large language models.
Although the idea of taking inspiration from the densely interconnected pathways of the human brain as a design structure for data processing algorithms dates all the way back to the 1940s, it was the much more recent rise of graphical processing hardware (GPUs) — via the video game industry — that really unlocked the power of this theory. These chips proved well suited to training algorithms with many more layers than was possible in earlier epochs — enabling neural network-based AI systems to achieve far better performance across many domains, including voice recognition, autonomous navigation, and drug discovery.
(See: Large language model [LLM])
Open source refers to software — or, increasingly, AI models — where the underlying code is made publicly available for anyone to use, inspect, or modify. In the AI world, Meta’s Llama family of models is a prominent example; Linux is the famous historical parallel in operating systems. Open source approaches allow researchers, developers, and companies around the world to build on top of one another’s work, accelerating progress and enabling independent safety audits that closed systems cannot easily provide. Closed source means the code is private — you can use the product but not see how it works, as is the case with OpenAI’s GPT models — a distinction that has become one of the defining debates in the AI industry.
Parallelization means doing many things at the same time instead of one after another — like having 10 employees working on different parts of a project at the same time instead of one employee doing everything sequentially. In AI, parallelization is fundamental to both training and inference: modern GPUs are specifically designed to perform thousands of calculations in parallel, which is a big reason why they became the hardware backbone of the industry. As AI systems grow more complex and models grow larger, the ability to parallelize work across many chips and many machines has become one of the most important factors in determining how quickly and cost-effectively models can be built and deployed. Research into better parallelization strategies is now a field of study in its own right.
RAMageddon is the fun new term for a not-so-fun trend that is sweeping the tech industry: an ever-increasing shortage of random access memory, or RAM chips, which power pretty much all the tech products we use in our daily lives. As the AI industry has blossomed, the biggest tech companies and AI labs — all vying to have the most powerful and efficient AI — are buying so much RAM to power their data centers that there’s not much left for the rest of us. And that supply bottleneck means that what’s left is getting more and more expensive.
That includes industries like gaming (where major companies have had to raise prices on consoles because it’s harder to find memory chips for their devices), consumer electronics (where memory shortage could cause the biggest dip in smartphone shipments in more than a decade), and general enterprise computing (because those companies can’t get enough RAM for their own data centers). The surge in prices is only expected to stop after the dreaded shortage ends but, unfortunately, there’s not really much of a sign that’s going to happen anytime soon.
Like AGI, recursive self-improvement is a threshhold for how smart AI can get, and how little it may rely on humans. In the RSI scenario, AI models start improving themselves without human intervention, leading to a huge acceleration in capabilities and autonomy. In some tellings, this would be a cataclysmic moment akin to the singularity, a moment when AI models become immune to outside intervention. But RSI also describes a basic capability — can an AI model design its own successor? — which makes it much easier for engineers to try to build it. A number of recent AI startups have set out to build recursively self-improving models, but most of them dismiss the apocalyptic implications, presenting RSI as simply the next frontier for research.
Reinforcement learning is a way of training AI where a system learns by trying things and receiving rewards for correct answers — like training your beloved pet with treats, except the “pet” in this scenario is a neural network and the “treat” is a mathematical signal indicating success. Unlike supervised learning, where a model is trained on a fixed dataset of labeled examples, reinforcement learning lets a model explore its environment, take actions, and continuously update its behavior based on the feedback it receives. This approach has proven especially powerful for training AI to play games, control robots, and, more recently, sharpen the reasoning ability of large language models. Techniques like reinforcement learning from human feedback, or RLHF, are now central to how leading AI labs fine-tune their models to be more helpful, accurate, and safe.
When it comes to human-machine communication, there are some obvious challenges — people communicate using human language, while AI programs execute tasks through complex algorithmic processes informed by data. Tokens bridge that gap: they are the basic building blocks of human-AI communication, representing discrete segments of data that have been processed or produced by an LLM. They are created through a process called tokenization, which breaks down raw text into bite-sized units a language model can digest, similar to how a compiler translates human language into binary code a computer can understand. In enterprise settings, tokens also determine cost — most AI companies charge for LLM usage on a per-token basis, meaning the more a business uses, the more it pays.
So again, tokens are the small chunks of text — often parts of words rather than whole ones — that AI language models break language into before processing it; they are roughly analogous to “words” for the purposes of understanding AI workloads. Throughput refers to how much can be processed in a given period of time, so token throughput is essentially a measure of how much AI work a system can handle at once. High token throughput is a key goal for AI infrastructure teams, since it determines how many users a model can serve simultaneously and how quickly each of them receives a response. AI researcher Andrej Karpathy has described feeling anxious when his AI subscriptions sit idle — echoing the feeling he had as a grad student when expensive computer hardware wasn’t being fully utilized — a sentiment that captures why maximizing token throughput has become something of an obsession in the field.
Developing machine learning AIs involves a process known as training. In simple terms, this refers to data being fed in in order that the model can learn from patterns and generate useful outputs. Essentially, it’s the process of the system responding to characteristics in the data that enables it to adapt outputs toward a sought-for goal — whether that’s identifying images of cats or producing a haiku on demand.
Training can be expensive because it requires lots of inputs, and the volumes required have been trending upwards — which is why hybrid approaches, such as fine-tuning a rules-based AI with targeted data, can help manage costs without starting entirely from scratch.
[See: Inference]
A technique where a previously trained AI model is used as the starting point for developing a new model for a different but typically related task — allowing knowledge gained in previous training cycles to be reapplied.
Transfer learning can drive efficiency savings by shortcutting model development. It can also be useful when data for the task that the model is being developed for is somewhat limited. But it’s important to note that the approach has limitations. Models that rely on transfer learning to gain generalized capabilities will likely require training on additional data in order to perform well in their domain of focus
(See: Fine tuning)
Validation loss is a number that tells you how well an AI model is learning during training — and lower is better. Researchers track it closely as a kind of real-time report card, using it to decide when to stop training, when to adjust hyperparameters, or whether to investigate a potential problem. One of the key concerns it helps flag is overfitting, a condition in which a model memorizes its training data rather than truly learning patterns it can generalize to new situations. Think of it as the difference between a student who genuinely understands the material and one who simply memorized last year’s exam — validation loss helps reveal which one your model is becoming.
Weights are core to AI training, as they determine how much importance (or weight) is given to different features (or input variables) in the data used for training the system — thereby shaping the AI model’s output.
Put another way, weights are numerical parameters that define what’s most salient in a dataset for the given training task. They achieve their function by applying multiplication to inputs. Model training typically begins with weights that are randomly assigned, but as the process unfolds, the weights adjust as the model seeks to arrive at an output that more closely matches the target.
For example, an AI model for predicting housing prices that’s trained on historical real estate data for a target location could include weights for features such as the number of bedrooms and bathrooms, whether a property is detached or semi-detached, whether it has parking, a garage, and so on.
Ultimately, the weights the model attaches to each of these inputs reflect how much they influence the value of a property, based on the given dataset.
This article is updated regularly with new information.
When you purchase through links in our articles, we may earn a small commission. This doesn’t affect our editorial independence.
#glossary #youll #year #TechCrunchartificial intelligence,evergreens,GlossaryArtificial intelligence is rewriting the world, and simultaneously inventing a whole new language to describe…
As Hong Kong marks the 29th anniversary of its return to Chinese rule on July…
Something remarkable happened at the Texprocess 2026 trade show in Frankfurt this past spring. In…
जैन चार्टेर्ड अकाउंटेंट फेडरेशन के मालवा चैप्टर के द्वारा अपने सदस्यों के लिए आर्टिफिशल इंटेलिजेंस…
In 2019, Alex Vindman testified during President Trump’s first impeachment trial–a decision that ended his…
None of the advice given to her by sleep experts or her pediatrician worked—not using a white noise machine, not buying blackout curtains, not even giving her a massage. “Every single day, it took like two to three hours to put her to bed,” the brand consultant from Zurich recalls. “She’d scream and fight and we would all be so exhausted and frustrated by the end of the day.”
When her daughter was 3 and a half years old, a bleary-eyed and desperate Schmidt turned to a controversial parenting tool: ChatGPT. The advice it offered “was completely opposite from everything I’d heard before,” she says. “It said she needed more stimulation,” suggesting that her daughter chew gum or jump on a trampoline before bed.
To Schmidt’s utter shock, it worked. Within five minutes, her daughter snuggled up next to her and fell asleep. “I was freaking out,” she says. “I was like, ‘Oh my God, nobody was able to help me except ChatGPT.’”
From there, Schmidt, who also has a 14-year-old stepson, became something of an AI evangelist. In June 2025, she posted a TikTok video with the caption, “I Turned ChatGPT into my coparent,” and it went viral. Her follower count swelled to 27,000 in just three weeks. She made her own custom GPT, Coparent, and started selling access to it for $37 on her website.
Schmidt is one of a growing cohort of women branding themselves as a new type of momfluencer—not one who uses aspirational imagery to make the mundane labor associated with motherhood more aesthetically appealing, but one who asks whether the labor is even necessary at all. They post videos like “The AI Assistant That’s Basically My Mom Brain Now” and “How to Use AI as a Mom,” and promote customized prompts or handbooks to moms who “want a coparent who never forgets the sunscreen or asks you to write things down,” as Schmidt writes in one TikTok caption.
One person who is relatively absent from Schmidt’s content is her longtime partner. In her videos, she’s doing pretty much all of the parenting labor, including meal prep, grocery-shopping, and kiddie arts and crafts. This is reflective of reality; moms assume the vast majority of the physical and mental labor in US households, with a 2022 Department of Labor survey finding that employed mothers spend an extra 13.5 hours per week doing chores and an average of 12.5 hours per week on childcare—a 40 percent increase from 1975.
That’s not to say that dads aren’t helping around the house. Pew data shows that fathers now spend more than twice as much time on household chores and childcare than they did 50 years ago. But by and large, women are still expected to shoulder most of the household burden.
“It’s not that my partner isn’t helping, because he is,” Schmidt says. “But for women and moms, there is so much invisible labor that you carry and everything is in your hands, and it actually takes time with your kids away from you.” Moms flocked to her page once they saw she was using AI “to actually be more present with my kids and to be more emotionally regulated, so I can be a cool mom and a happy mom and not a stressed-out one.”
Women are less likely (more than 20 percent less likely, according to one 2025 study) to use generative AI in their everyday lives than men are, a discrepancy known as the “AI gender gap.” Generative AI tools suffer from what Stephanie Leblanc-Godfrey, a founder of the company Mother AI who refers to herself as a “maternal technologist,” likes to call a “PMS” problem, meaning they tend to be “pale, male, and stale.”
Lilian Schmidt could not, for the life of her, figure out how to get her daughter to go to sleep.
None of the advice given to her by sleep experts or her pediatrician worked—not using a white noise machine, not buying blackout curtains, not even giving her a massage. “Every single day, it took like two to three hours to put her to bed,” the brand consultant from Zurich recalls. “She’d scream and fight and we would all be so exhausted and frustrated by the end of the day.”
When her daughter was 3 and a half years old, a bleary-eyed and desperate Schmidt turned to a controversial parenting tool: ChatGPT. The advice it offered “was completely opposite from everything I’d heard before,” she says. “It said she needed more stimulation,” suggesting that her daughter chew gum or jump on a trampoline before bed.
To Schmidt’s utter shock, it worked. Within five minutes, her daughter snuggled up next to her and fell asleep. “I was freaking out,” she says. “I was like, ‘Oh my God, nobody was able to help me except ChatGPT.’”
From there, Schmidt, who also has a 14-year-old stepson, became something of an AI evangelist. In June 2025, she posted a TikTok video with the caption, “I Turned ChatGPT into my coparent,” and it went viral. Her follower count swelled to 27,000 in just three weeks. She made her own custom GPT, Coparent, and started selling access to it for $37 on her website.
Schmidt is one of a growing cohort of women branding themselves as a new type of momfluencer—not one who uses aspirational imagery to make the mundane labor associated with motherhood more aesthetically appealing, but one who asks whether the labor is even necessary at all. They post videos like “The AI Assistant That’s Basically My Mom Brain Now” and “How to Use AI as a Mom,” and promote customized prompts or handbooks to moms who “want a coparent who never forgets the sunscreen or asks you to write things down,” as Schmidt writes in one TikTok caption.
One person who is relatively absent from Schmidt’s content is her longtime partner. In her videos, she’s doing pretty much all of the parenting labor, including meal prep, grocery-shopping, and kiddie arts and crafts. This is reflective of reality; moms assume the vast majority of the physical and mental labor in US households, with a 2022 Department of Labor survey finding that employed mothers spend an extra 13.5 hours per week doing chores and an average of 12.5 hours per week on childcare—a 40 percent increase from 1975.
That’s not to say that dads aren’t helping around the house. Pew data shows that fathers now spend more than twice as much time on household chores and childcare than they did 50 years ago. But by and large, women are still expected to shoulder most of the household burden.
“It’s not that my partner isn’t helping, because he is,” Schmidt says. “But for women and moms, there is so much invisible labor that you carry and everything is in your hands, and it actually takes time with your kids away from you.” Moms flocked to her page once they saw she was using AI “to actually be more present with my kids and to be more emotionally regulated, so I can be a cool mom and a happy mom and not a stressed-out one.”
Women are less likely (more than 20 percent less likely, according to one 2025 study) to use generative AI in their everyday lives than men are, a discrepancy known as the “AI gender gap.” Generative AI tools suffer from what Stephanie Leblanc-Godfrey, a founder of the company Mother AI who refers to herself as a “maternal technologist,” likes to call a “PMS” problem, meaning they tend to be “pale, male, and stale.”
Lilian Schmidt could not, for the life of her, figure out how to get her…
One of the first casualties, to my dismay, was em dashes—which are a great, and very human form of punctuation, by the way! There’s also the “rule of threes,” which is meant to scan as rhythmic, but often comes across predictable, hackish, and stale. And, of course, there are the clunky grammatical constructions of the “not X, but Y” variety.
Now certain fonts and typefaces—specifically serifs—seem to be defining (and giving away) AI, both in actual software, and in vibe-coded design boilerplates. Some are calling it “tasteslop,” the results of the effort to make generative AI designs seem superficially sophisticated or distinguished.
The shift away from slicker, more conspicuously computerized typefaces is something the San Francisco Bay Area writer, designer, and type practitioner Keya Vadgama has termed “the serif renaissance.” In a recent newsletter, published on her Substack, Vadgama suggests the move is a bid for companies to project more “personality and warmth.”
“It’s not that difficult to discern why AI-native companies in particular are being drawn to serif fonts: AI is inherently cold and without opinion,” she writes. “[Using serifs] signals ‘We’re AI! But real humans use (and made) our product! We swear!’”
“Serifs have an origin in calligraphy,” Vadgama tells WIRED. “It connotes a very human, fluid way of making letterforms.” Vadgama has noticed that Anthropic’s Claude was defaulting to serifs. Other AI companies—Runway, Perplexity, Manus—had also adopted similar typefaces in their UX and branding.
Reached for comment, Perplexity chief communications officer Jesse Dwyer tells WIRED: “Why wouldn’t we have human design? Perplexity is for people.”
Vadgama believes the use of serifs is as much about aesthetics as building confidence between users and brands. Certain font choices signal, even at some preconscious psychological level, trust. Sans serifs (your Arials, Calibiris, Helviticas) are too clean, too computer-y. Good old Times New Roman, and similar typographic designs, can feel a bit more dignified. Recently, Vadgama was doing some branding work with a (since-shuttered) AI startup, which favored the serif text. “A big part of it,” she says, “is, ‘How do we position ourselves in a way that people are not afraid of us?’”
Serifs can help build that conviction, or at least the illusion of it. Times New Roman itself was commissioned in the 1930s by Britain’s Times newspaper. The typeface carries a certain authoritative heft. Books and newspapers are printed using it. It was all but standardized in the decades before screen reading. Perhaps most famously, the Encyclopedia Brittanica—arguably the authoritative compendium of human knowledge, at least pre-World Wide Web—was set in Times.
“In the broad public, a serif carries connotations of scholarship,” says Ali S. Qadeer, chair of graphic design at the Ontario College of Art and Design in Toronto. “Claude is interesting. It’s using this slightly brown background to mirror a book page. It’s sort of emulating the feeling of reading print. And print has deeper associations with trust.”
As reported by The New York Times, even the US State Department has returned to using Times New Roman after Secretary of State Marco Rubio decried Calibri as “informal,” pegging the department’s adoption of the sans serif typeface on some wider, Biden-era DEI initiative.
Both Qadeer and Vadgama see the trend toward serifs as a rejoinder to AI’s perceived (and, indeed, literal) lack of soul, and the wider public suspicion of the technology. They’re not the only ones. Alongside the “tasteslop” discourse, people online have criticized the serification of AI aesthetics as “generic” and “very ugly.”
As public backlash to the seeming omnipresence of artificial intelligence intensifies, the collective quest to weed out—and reject—telltale signs of its use continues.
One of the first casualties, to my dismay, was em dashes—which are a great, and very human form of punctuation, by the way! There’s also the “rule of threes,” which is meant to scan as rhythmic, but often comes across predictable, hackish, and stale. And, of course, there are the clunky grammatical constructions of the “not X, but Y” variety.
Now certain fonts and typefaces—specifically serifs—seem to be defining (and giving away) AI, both in actual software, and in vibe-coded design boilerplates. Some are calling it “tasteslop,” the results of the effort to make generative AI designs seem superficially sophisticated or distinguished.
The shift away from slicker, more conspicuously computerized typefaces is something the San Francisco Bay Area writer, designer, and type practitioner Keya Vadgama has termed “the serif renaissance.” In a recent newsletter, published on her Substack, Vadgama suggests the move is a bid for companies to project more “personality and warmth.”
“It’s not that difficult to discern why AI-native companies in particular are being drawn to serif fonts: AI is inherently cold and without opinion,” she writes. “[Using serifs] signals ‘We’re AI! But real humans use (and made) our product! We swear!’”
“Serifs have an origin in calligraphy,” Vadgama tells WIRED. “It connotes a very human, fluid way of making letterforms.” Vadgama has noticed that Anthropic’s Claude was defaulting to serifs. Other AI companies—Runway, Perplexity, Manus—had also adopted similar typefaces in their UX and branding.
Reached for comment, Perplexity chief communications officer Jesse Dwyer tells WIRED: “Why wouldn’t we have human design? Perplexity is for people.”
Vadgama believes the use of serifs is as much about aesthetics as building confidence between users and brands. Certain font choices signal, even at some preconscious psychological level, trust. Sans serifs (your Arials, Calibiris, Helviticas) are too clean, too computer-y. Good old Times New Roman, and similar typographic designs, can feel a bit more dignified. Recently, Vadgama was doing some branding work with a (since-shuttered) AI startup, which favored the serif text. “A big part of it,” she says, “is, ‘How do we position ourselves in a way that people are not afraid of us?’”
Serifs can help build that conviction, or at least the illusion of it. Times New Roman itself was commissioned in the 1930s by Britain’s Times newspaper. The typeface carries a certain authoritative heft. Books and newspapers are printed using it. It was all but standardized in the decades before screen reading. Perhaps most famously, the Encyclopedia Brittanica—arguably the authoritative compendium of human knowledge, at least pre-World Wide Web—was set in Times.
“In the broad public, a serif carries connotations of scholarship,” says Ali S. Qadeer, chair of graphic design at the Ontario College of Art and Design in Toronto. “Claude is interesting. It’s using this slightly brown background to mirror a book page. It’s sort of emulating the feeling of reading print. And print has deeper associations with trust.”
As reported by The New York Times, even the US State Department has returned to using Times New Roman after Secretary of State Marco Rubio decried Calibri as “informal,” pegging the department’s adoption of the sans serif typeface on some wider, Biden-era DEI initiative.
Both Qadeer and Vadgama see the trend toward serifs as a rejoinder to AI’s perceived (and, indeed, literal) lack of soul, and the wider public suspicion of the technology. They’re not the only ones. Alongside the “tasteslop” discourse, people online have criticized the serification of AI aesthetics as “generic” and “very ugly.”
As public backlash to the seeming omnipresence of artificial intelligence intensifies, the collective quest to…
Don’t play innocent. If you’re a non-lawyer in the 2020s, you’ve at least had the passing thought that you could use an LLM to help you generate a killer lawsuit against someone who pissed you off.
Or at least now I know it’s not just me.
Thanks to AI, plaintiffs representing themselves, also known as “pro se” plaintiffs, are changing the legal landscape for the worse, according to a new study by MIT’s Anand Shah and USC’s Joshua Levy, reported on by the New York Times on Monday. The study has not yet been peer reviewed.
It says that since the rollout of widely available LLMs, 18 percent of pro se filings now contain what the authors have deemed AI-generated text. Perhaps consequently, “the total volume of pro se docket entries per court in the first 180 days of a case has grown by 64% on average across the post-AI period,” the study finds.
Typically, pro se filings come from prisoners working on their cases from behind bars, but the study notes that “national non-prisoner pro se filing share rose sharply from its approximately 11% historical steady state to 16.8% in fiscal year 2025, a gain that has no precedent in 25 years of administrative records.”
According to the Times, pro se plaintiffs lost 96% of their cases from 1998-2017.
The Times is largely spotlighting frivolous lawsuits generated with AI—and what a waste of time it is for the courts to painstakingly read and process all these slop-filled filings. A Minnesota federal judge named Patrick J. Schiltz, called it “an existential threat to the federal courts.”
To illustrate their point, the Times interviewed a man who uses AI to generate lawsuits. This person gave the paper his name, and allowed himself to be photographed for the story. Courts have alleged some unsavory things about this person, and the Times says he lives in his car. He is, to use one of the president’s favorite terms, straight from central casting—so much so that the Times’ story borders on, well, mean.
I can’t dispute that AI lawsuits sound like a massive problem. At the same time, lawsuits are often the only weapon downtrodden Americans have—a substitute for institutions and politicians that actually help make us whole when we’re harmed and it’s not our fault. Part of me can’t help but long to read a David and Goliath story about a rando armed with Claude who bootstraps their way to some life-changing, ten-figure legal victory—presumably after using the LLM to figure out how to argue a case in a courtroom as well.

Don’t play innocent. If you’re a non-lawyer in the 2020s, you’ve at least had the passing thought that you could use an LLM to help you generate a killer lawsuit against someone who pissed you off.
Or at least now I know it’s not just me.
Thanks to AI, plaintiffs representing themselves, also known as “pro se” plaintiffs, are changing the legal landscape for the worse, according to a new study by MIT’s Anand Shah and USC’s Joshua Levy, reported on by the New York Times on Monday. The study has not yet been peer reviewed.
It says that since the rollout of widely available LLMs, 18 percent of pro se filings now contain what the authors have deemed AI-generated text. Perhaps consequently, “the total volume of pro se docket entries per court in the first 180 days of a case has grown by 64% on average across the post-AI period,” the study finds.
Typically, pro se filings come from prisoners working on their cases from behind bars, but the study notes that “national non-prisoner pro se filing share rose sharply from its approximately 11% historical steady state to 16.8% in fiscal year 2025, a gain that has no precedent in 25 years of administrative records.”
According to the Times, pro se plaintiffs lost 96% of their cases from 1998-2017.
The Times is largely spotlighting frivolous lawsuits generated with AI—and what a waste of time it is for the courts to painstakingly read and process all these slop-filled filings. A Minnesota federal judge named Patrick J. Schiltz, called it “an existential threat to the federal courts.”
To illustrate their point, the Times interviewed a man who uses AI to generate lawsuits. This person gave the paper his name, and allowed himself to be photographed for the story. Courts have alleged some unsavory things about this person, and the Times says he lives in his car. He is, to use one of the president’s favorite terms, straight from central casting—so much so that the Times’ story borders on, well, mean.
I can’t dispute that AI lawsuits sound like a massive problem. At the same time, lawsuits are often the only weapon downtrodden Americans have—a substitute for institutions and politicians that actually help make us whole when we’re harmed and it’s not our fault. Part of me can’t help but long to read a David and Goliath story about a rando armed with Claude who bootstraps their way to some life-changing, ten-figure legal victory—presumably after using the LLM to figure out how to argue a case in a courtroom as well.
Don’t play innocent. If you’re a non-lawyer in the 2020s, you’ve at least had the…
There’s an argument to be made that audiobooks are the finest form of content. You take a book—already off to a good start—and you get to have someone read it right into your ears. And when I say “someone” I mean the GOATs in the voice game. I could cite examples of celebrities you never knew narrated audiobooks, but here’s a sample of Werner Herzog narrating his memoir Every Man for Himself and God Against All that I think speaks for itself:
What could be better than this?
Not only are audiobooks heaven, you can probably get all the audiobooks you want for free (and legally) by getting yourself a library card and using your local library’s preferred app (Libby, perhaps).
I say all that, because given all the easy and free access to high quality audiobooks, why in the world would anyone listen to a John Grisham audiobook presented like this?
Don’t click that link. Instead of the actual audiobook, which is read wonderfully by Michael Beck, it will take you to a YouTube video consisting of an AI narrator reading Grisham’s recent hit novel the Widow, and the narration plays under 13 hours of AI slop video—simulated stock footage of fake vacations, basically. It looks like the video they display under the lyrics on Hell’s karaoke machine. I don’t have any science to back this up, but it will definitely give you brain cancer.
As the New York Times points out, 80,000 lost souls listened to the Widow this way. And Grisham is pissed about it. “The thieves and pirates who steal my work and try to profit from it, in any format, should be punished civilly and criminally […] And in this particular example, YouTube is complicit because it’s clear they know what is happening and refuse to stop it,” Grisham told the Times in an email. He should really write about this.
YouTube, for its part, says the video is still up because there hasn’t been a takedown request, and that it doesn’t proactively police for copyright violations. “For more than two decades, we’ve built systems that help rights holders manage and control their copyrighted content — investing continuously to make sure those systems evolve as new threats emerge,” Jack Malon, a YouTube spokesperson, wrote to the Times.
If you’ve ever had a YouTube video flagged for a copyright violation, it may have been because of a feature called Content ID that music publishers absolutely love. It allows copyright holders to crawl YouTube and automatically detect copyrighted content. At times, Content ID has been a valuable moneymaking scheme for copyright holders, who were able to zero in on incidental—or even accidental—uses of copyrighted material, especially music, and by making a claim, monetize other people’s videos. It can’t do this anymore, but this is the sort of thing YouTube’s copyright system has been designed to support.
As the Times points out, Content ID isn’t great at finding AI-narrated audiobooks. The audio waveform of the content is not the same as the audio the publisher owns, which makes it tricky to know what to even scan for. The author holds a copyright on the text, which can be slightly changed by the creator of the YouTube video while still leaving the book largely intact—good enough for casual listeners anyway.
This leaves publishers and authors to navigate the takedown process manually, which seems, judging from the fact that the Widow is still up, to just not be happening.
That’s a pity. And I don’t mean because it’s robbing John Grisham of audiobook sales, which is bad, but not the gravest injustice in the universe. It’s bad because people are listening to such horrible garbage just because it’s available. And they really, truly, don’t have to.
![John Grisham’s New Legal Drama Is a Real Life Fight Against AI Audiobooks on YouTube
There’s an argument to be made that audiobooks are the finest form of content. You take a book—already off to a good start—and you get to have someone read it right into your ears. And when I say “someone” I mean the GOATs in the voice game. I could cite examples of celebrities you never knew narrated audiobooks, but here’s a sample of Werner Herzog narrating his memoir Every Man for Himself and God Against All that I think speaks for itself: [embed]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P4IQSvi3pXU[/embed] What could be better than this? Not only are audiobooks heaven, you can probably get all the audiobooks you want for free (and legally) by getting yourself a library card and using your local library’s preferred app (Libby, perhaps). I say all that, because given all the easy and free access to high quality audiobooks, why in the world would anyone listen to a John Grisham audiobook presented like this?
Don’t click that link. Instead of the actual audiobook, which is read wonderfully by Michael Beck, it will take you to a YouTube video consisting of an AI narrator reading Grisham’s recent hit novel the Widow, and the narration plays under 13 hours of AI slop video—simulated stock footage of fake vacations, basically. It looks like the video they display under the lyrics on Hell’s karaoke machine. I don’t have any science to back this up, but it will definitely give you brain cancer.
As the New York Times points out, 80,000 lost souls listened to the Widow this way. And Grisham is pissed about it. “The thieves and pirates who steal my work and try to profit from it, in any format, should be punished civilly and criminally […] And in this particular example, YouTube is complicit because it’s clear they know what is happening and refuse to stop it,” Grisham told the Times in an email. He should really write about this. YouTube, for its part, says the video is still up because there hasn’t been a takedown request, and that it doesn’t proactively police for copyright violations. “For more than two decades, we’ve built systems that help rights holders manage and control their copyrighted content — investing continuously to make sure those systems evolve as new threats emerge,” Jack Malon, a YouTube spokesperson, wrote to the Times.
If you’ve ever had a YouTube video flagged for a copyright violation, it may have been because of a feature called Content ID that music publishers absolutely love. It allows copyright holders to crawl YouTube and automatically detect copyrighted content. At times, Content ID has been a valuable moneymaking scheme for copyright holders, who were able to zero in on incidental—or even accidental—uses of copyrighted material, especially music, and by making a claim, monetize other people’s videos. It can’t do this anymore, but this is the sort of thing YouTube’s copyright system has been designed to support. As the Times points out, Content ID isn’t great at finding AI-narrated audiobooks. The audio waveform of the content is not the same as the audio the publisher owns, which makes it tricky to know what to even scan for. The author holds a copyright on the text, which can be slightly changed by the creator of the YouTube video while still leaving the book largely intact—good enough for casual listeners anyway. This leaves publishers and authors to navigate the takedown process manually, which seems, judging from the fact that the Widow is still up, to just not be happening.
That’s a pity. And I don’t mean because it’s robbing John Grisham of audiobook sales, which is bad, but not the gravest injustice in the universe. It’s bad because people are listening to such horrible garbage just because it’s available. And they really, truly, don’t have to. #John #Grishams #Legal #Drama #Real #Life #Fight #Audiobooks #YouTubeArtificial intelligence,Audiobooks,Books,intellectual proper John Grisham’s New Legal Drama Is a Real Life Fight Against AI Audiobooks on YouTube
There’s an argument to be made that audiobooks are the finest form of content. You take a book—already off to a good start—and you get to have someone read it right into your ears. And when I say “someone” I mean the GOATs in the voice game. I could cite examples of celebrities you never knew narrated audiobooks, but here’s a sample of Werner Herzog narrating his memoir Every Man for Himself and God Against All that I think speaks for itself: [embed]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P4IQSvi3pXU[/embed] What could be better than this? Not only are audiobooks heaven, you can probably get all the audiobooks you want for free (and legally) by getting yourself a library card and using your local library’s preferred app (Libby, perhaps). I say all that, because given all the easy and free access to high quality audiobooks, why in the world would anyone listen to a John Grisham audiobook presented like this?
Don’t click that link. Instead of the actual audiobook, which is read wonderfully by Michael Beck, it will take you to a YouTube video consisting of an AI narrator reading Grisham’s recent hit novel the Widow, and the narration plays under 13 hours of AI slop video—simulated stock footage of fake vacations, basically. It looks like the video they display under the lyrics on Hell’s karaoke machine. I don’t have any science to back this up, but it will definitely give you brain cancer.
As the New York Times points out, 80,000 lost souls listened to the Widow this way. And Grisham is pissed about it. “The thieves and pirates who steal my work and try to profit from it, in any format, should be punished civilly and criminally […] And in this particular example, YouTube is complicit because it’s clear they know what is happening and refuse to stop it,” Grisham told the Times in an email. He should really write about this. YouTube, for its part, says the video is still up because there hasn’t been a takedown request, and that it doesn’t proactively police for copyright violations. “For more than two decades, we’ve built systems that help rights holders manage and control their copyrighted content — investing continuously to make sure those systems evolve as new threats emerge,” Jack Malon, a YouTube spokesperson, wrote to the Times.
If you’ve ever had a YouTube video flagged for a copyright violation, it may have been because of a feature called Content ID that music publishers absolutely love. It allows copyright holders to crawl YouTube and automatically detect copyrighted content. At times, Content ID has been a valuable moneymaking scheme for copyright holders, who were able to zero in on incidental—or even accidental—uses of copyrighted material, especially music, and by making a claim, monetize other people’s videos. It can’t do this anymore, but this is the sort of thing YouTube’s copyright system has been designed to support. As the Times points out, Content ID isn’t great at finding AI-narrated audiobooks. The audio waveform of the content is not the same as the audio the publisher owns, which makes it tricky to know what to even scan for. The author holds a copyright on the text, which can be slightly changed by the creator of the YouTube video while still leaving the book largely intact—good enough for casual listeners anyway. This leaves publishers and authors to navigate the takedown process manually, which seems, judging from the fact that the Widow is still up, to just not be happening.
That’s a pity. And I don’t mean because it’s robbing John Grisham of audiobook sales, which is bad, but not the gravest injustice in the universe. It’s bad because people are listening to such horrible garbage just because it’s available. And they really, truly, don’t have to. #John #Grishams #Legal #Drama #Real #Life #Fight #Audiobooks #YouTubeArtificial intelligence,Audiobooks,Books,intellectual proper](https://gizmodo.com/app/uploads/2026/05/john-grisham-1280x853.jpg)
There’s an argument to be made that audiobooks are the finest form of content. You take a book—already off to a good start—and you get to have someone read it right into your ears. And when I say “someone” I mean the GOATs in the voice game. I could cite examples of celebrities you never knew narrated audiobooks, but here’s a sample of Werner Herzog narrating his memoir Every Man for Himself and God Against All that I think speaks for itself:
What could be better than this?
Not only are audiobooks heaven, you can probably get all the audiobooks you want for free (and legally) by getting yourself a library card and using your local library’s preferred app (Libby, perhaps).
I say all that, because given all the easy and free access to high quality audiobooks, why in the world would anyone listen to a John Grisham audiobook presented like this?
Don’t click that link. Instead of the actual audiobook, which is read wonderfully by Michael Beck, it will take you to a YouTube video consisting of an AI narrator reading Grisham’s recent hit novel the Widow, and the narration plays under 13 hours of AI slop video—simulated stock footage of fake vacations, basically. It looks like the video they display under the lyrics on Hell’s karaoke machine. I don’t have any science to back this up, but it will definitely give you brain cancer.
As the New York Times points out, 80,000 lost souls listened to the Widow this way. And Grisham is pissed about it. “The thieves and pirates who steal my work and try to profit from it, in any format, should be punished civilly and criminally […] And in this particular example, YouTube is complicit because it’s clear they know what is happening and refuse to stop it,” Grisham told the Times in an email. He should really write about this.
YouTube, for its part, says the video is still up because there hasn’t been a takedown request, and that it doesn’t proactively police for copyright violations. “For more than two decades, we’ve built systems that help rights holders manage and control their copyrighted content — investing continuously to make sure those systems evolve as new threats emerge,” Jack Malon, a YouTube spokesperson, wrote to the Times.
If you’ve ever had a YouTube video flagged for a copyright violation, it may have been because of a feature called Content ID that music publishers absolutely love. It allows copyright holders to crawl YouTube and automatically detect copyrighted content. At times, Content ID has been a valuable moneymaking scheme for copyright holders, who were able to zero in on incidental—or even accidental—uses of copyrighted material, especially music, and by making a claim, monetize other people’s videos. It can’t do this anymore, but this is the sort of thing YouTube’s copyright system has been designed to support.
As the Times points out, Content ID isn’t great at finding AI-narrated audiobooks. The audio waveform of the content is not the same as the audio the publisher owns, which makes it tricky to know what to even scan for. The author holds a copyright on the text, which can be slightly changed by the creator of the YouTube video while still leaving the book largely intact—good enough for casual listeners anyway.
This leaves publishers and authors to navigate the takedown process manually, which seems, judging from the fact that the Widow is still up, to just not be happening.
That’s a pity. And I don’t mean because it’s robbing John Grisham of audiobook sales, which is bad, but not the gravest injustice in the universe. It’s bad because people are listening to such horrible garbage just because it’s available. And they really, truly, don’t have to.
There’s an argument to be made that audiobooks are the finest form of content. You…