Breaking AI & Tech News Analyzed

Anthropic, a San Francisco-based AI startup, has announced that its latest AI model, Claude Mythos, has proven highly effective in exposing software weaknesses. The model has identified thousands of vulnerabilities in commonly used applications, many of which have no patch or fix available.According to Mike Krieger of Anthropic Labs, the company has decided not to release Mythos to the public due to concerns about its potential misuse by hackers. Instead, Anthropic is collaborating with cybersecurity specialists and engineers in the open-source community to utilize the model as a defensive tool.The oldest vulnerability uncovered by Mythos dates back 27 years, and none were previously noticed by their creators. Anthropic has shared a version of Mythos with cybersecurity companies CrowdStrike and Palo Alto Networks, as well as with Amazon, Apple, and Microsoft, in a project dubbed “Glasswing”.“AI models have reached a level of coding capability where they can surpass all but the most skilled humans at finding and exploiting software vulnerabilities,” Anthropic said in a blog post. “The fallout – for economies, public safety, and national security – could be severe.”The project aims to protect critical infrastructure from cyber threats, with approximately 40 organizations involved in the design, maintenance, or operation of computer systems. Anthropic is providing about $100m worth of computing resources for the mission.

Evelyn Araluen has been named among the six finalists for the 2026 Stella Prize with her second poetry collection, The Rot. This marks her second appearance on the shortlist, four years after becoming the first poet to win the award as an Australian woman and non‑binary writer. The $60,000 prize will be contested alongside five diverse titles: Geraldine Brooks’ memoir Memorial Days, Miranda Darling’s novel Fireweather, Lee Lai’s graphic novel Cannon, Marika Sosnowski’s hybrid nonfiction 58 Facets: On Violence and the Law, and Tasma Walton’s novel I Am Nannertgarrook. Each shortlisted author receives a $5,000 advance. Earlier this year, Araluen’s The Rot captured the top prize and a $125,000 award at the Victorian Premier’s Literary Awards, praised for its exploration of grief and collective anxiety amid the global coverage of the Gaza conflict. The collection was sparked by an incident at Adelaide Writers’ Week in 2024, where Araluen was heckled for describing the Israeli bombardment of Gaza as genocide. She told Guardian Australia that the poems aim to document a "panicked, distressed window of time" that future readers might view with horror and regret. "I wanted the book to clearly record what we knew and did not stop," Araluen said. "If it reads as naive, let it still serve as a record of an uncomfortable truth we all must face." Araluen, a Goorie and Koori poet, first won the Stella Prize in 2022 for her debut collection Dropbear. This year’s shortlist was selected from 212 submissions, underscoring the depth of contemporary Australian women’s and non‑binary writing. Chair of judges Sophie Gee praised the list, noting that the books “move us to the core through language, the truth of their emotion, and the honesty of what it means to be human, across time and space.” The winner will be announced on 13 May 2026. Last year’s prize went to Michelle de Kretser for her novel Theory and Practice.

The author's concerns about AI were previously localized to her household income and the job market, but after reading the alarming article, she now worries about the bigger picture. The investigation reveals that AI is a power story as much as a technology story, with Sam Altman at its center.The chatbot, ChatGPT, created by OpenAI, was asked to summarize the key findings of the article, but its response was deemed neutral and lacking in substance. A human-powered summary, on the other hand, describes Altman as a corporate grifter whose actions could have world-ending consequences.The article highlights the dangers of AI, including the alignment problem, where AI uses its superior intelligence to trick human engineers and outmaneuver them. This could lead to AI seizing control of critical infrastructure, such as the energy grid, stock market, or nuclear arsenal.Elon Musk's 2014 tweet about AI being potentially more dangerous than nukes is recalled, and Altman's own blog post from 2015 warning about the risks of superhuman machine intelligence is mentioned. However, since OpenAI became mainly a for-profit entity, Altman has stopped discussing these risks and now sells the technology as a portal to utopia.The author concludes that the greatest danger we face is from a failure of imagination in understanding the vast gap between personal AI use and its potential use by governments, military regimes, or rogue actors. The chatbot's response to the author's concern about entering the permanent underclass is seen as wholly witless and without threat, highlighting the need for greater awareness and oversight of AI.

Arthur Rosenfeld, 73, and Meryl Tankard, 70, open the performance by introducing themselves as “sprightly old geezers,” setting a tone of candid humor that runs through the evening. The production, ‘Kontakthof – Echoes of 78,’ is a fresh staging of Pina Bausch’s iconic 1978 work, now re‑imagined by Australian choreographer Meryl Tankard. Unlike the 2010 London run that split the piece between teenagers and senior amateurs, this rendition features the eight surviving members of the original cast—all now in their late sixties to early eighties—performing the very roles they created half a century ago. A ninth dancer was absent due to illness. Their live movements are mirrored on a large screen by the black‑and‑white film of the 1978 performance, creating a visual palimpsest where past and present dance together. The choreography, set to 1930s dance‑hall songs, remains a wry commentary on courtship, power dynamics and consent. Tankard’s direction emphasizes the passage of time, allowing audiences to witness the same steps executed by bodies that have aged, yet retain a striking vitality. Dancers such as Josephine Ann Endicott, now in her seventies, glide across the stage in silk dresses, their frames more fragile but their confidence undiminished. Moments of poignancy arise when the film shows cast members who have since passed away. Onstage, John Giffin reaches for his late partner’s face, only to grasp empty air—a visual metaphor for loss that resonated deeply with the audience. Personal revelations punctuate the performance: Beatrice Libonati, 71, describes herself as “paranoid and a misanthrope,” while Tankard admits, “I wish I’d had children; I miss my mother every day,” underscoring the undercurrent of longing that runs through the piece. Beyond its narrative, the production offers a meditation on continuity. Bausch’s signature walking patterns—slow circles and linear traverses—are repeated, suggesting that despite changing bodies, the human species continues to tread familiar social routes. The music, unchanged from the original, carries on until the final dancer pauses, symbolising the inevitable end of the dance of life. The show runs at Sadler’s Wells, London through 11 April, offering a rare glimpse into how art can bridge generations and celebrate the endurance of the human spirit.

Bruce Miller returns as showrunner to bring Margaret Atwood’s 2019 novel The Testaments to the screen, positioning it as a direct sequel to the acclaimed series The Handmaid’s Tale. The new eight‑part drama, now streaming on Disney+, shifts the narrative focus to the next generation of women living under Gilead’s regime. While the series adopts a lighter, almost YA‑ish tone compared with its predecessor, the underlying brutality remains unmistakable. Viewers are confronted with “bloody punishments, rotting corpses on gibbets and relentless indoctrination,” now filtered through the eyes of teenage protagonists. The visual palette expands beyond the iconic red, white and green of the original. Young girls of privileged status appear in pink dresses and cloaks, older students—dubbed “Plums”—wear purple headpieces that are more stylish than the oppressive bonnets of the handmaids, and menstruating women are marked by a teal hue, signaling a grim rite of passage. Central to the story is Agnes (Chase Infiniti), the adopted daughter of Commander MacKenzie and the secret first child of June/Offred. Her journey intertwines with that of Daisy (Lucy Halliday), a “Pearl Girl” recruited from outside Gilead, whose mysterious background fuels the series’ central mystery. Ann Dowd reprises Aunt Lydia, now presiding over an elite preparatory school where she tasks Agnes with mentoring Daisy. Their evolving relationship, alongside flashbacks that flesh out Aunt Lydia’s own history, anchors the ten‑episode arc. Beyond the personal dramas, the series continues to examine groupthink, systemic corruption and the subjugation of women. Scenes such as Agnes kneeling before her father in newly‑colored robes starkly echo real‑world teenage experiences of power dynamics, albeit in a far more visceral setting. Occasional moments of dark humour provide brief relief, but the overarching message remains clear: the mechanisms of oppression are timeless, and the fight for autonomy persists across generations. The Testaments is now available on Disney+, offering both fans of the original series and newcomers a stark reminder of how dystopian fiction mirrors historical and contemporary tyrannies.

Wayne Koestenbaum's latest novel, 'My Lover, the Rabbi', defies expectations with its unapologetically obsessive prose and exploration of desire. The story centers around a man who works as an antique furniture restorer and his overwhelming desire for a man who works in a synagogue. This central fact is accepted by all characters, and the writing treats realist conventions with a kind of exalted scorn.The book's 188 chapters are short and plunge the reader into a world of carnality, confusion, and bizarrely specific detail. The title of the book is reiterated throughout, becoming almost a mantra. This insistent and anxious formality is at the heart of the book's uncanny life, matching style to subject in a brilliant and unconventional way.As the plot emerges, it seems almost 19th century in its storyline, with themes of infidelity, illegitimacy, madness, shopping, coincidences, and death. The narrator's need to discover the secret of his rabbi's attractiveness drives the plot, much like Proust's Swann. The mystery of the rabbi's allure and the death of his three-year-old son become central to the narrative, revealing vistas of unknowability.The book's whirlwind invention culminates in a final, fugue-like recapitulation, where the narrator's obsessive desire morphs into a vision of the unknowability of any object of desire. This gloriously original evocation explores what it might feel like to admit to the inability of love to triumph over death. Koestenbaum's writing is like that of the best kind of angel, unafraid to come down to earth and explore the complexities of human desire.

Political leaders across Washington breathed a collective sigh of relief on Tuesday evening when President Donald Trump announced a provisional two‑week ceasefire with Iran, ending a 24‑hour standoff that had seen him threaten to annihilate Iran’s “whole civilization” if Tehran failed to reopen the Strait of Hormuz by his self‑imposed deadline.The ceasefire declaration arrived just 90 minutes before the 8 p.m. ET deadline at which Trump had pledged to bomb Iranian power plants and bridges – a move scholars warned would constitute a war crime. A last‑minute diplomatic push by Pakistan persuaded the president to suspend the ultimatum, buying a narrow window for de‑escalation.In a post on Tuesday night, Trump wrote: “Subject to the Islamic Republic of Iran agreeing to the COMPLETE, IMMEDIATE, and SAFE OPENING of the Strait of Hormuz, I agree to suspend the bombing and attack of Iran for a period of two weeks.”Iran’s foreign minister quickly responded, stating that the strait would remain open for the next fourteen days under Iranian military management, effectively meeting the condition set by the United States.The president’s earlier warning – that a “whole civilization will die tonight, never to be brought back again” – drew swift condemnation from Democrats, longtime allies who have broken with Trump over the crisis, and even Pope Francis, the first American pontiff.Senate Majority Leader Chuck Schumer labeled Trump’s retreat as “desperately searching for any sort of exit ramp from his ridiculous bluster,” adding that the president had previously been called “an extremely sick person” waging a “wanton war of choice.”House Democrats, including former Speaker Nancy Pelosi, called for Trump’s removal via impeachment or the 25th Amendment, arguing that his conduct amounted to a threat of genocide against the Iranian people. Progressive Representative Alexandria Ocasio‑Cortez echoed this sentiment, saying the two‑week deal “changes nothing” and urging Congress to act.House Minority Leader Hakeem Jeffries described Trump’s behavior as “unhinged, unpresidential and unconscionable,” and warned that the American public “strongly opposes this reckless war of choice.” He announced that Democrats would push Speaker Mike Johnson to reconvene the House and move a war‑powers resolution to secure a permanent end to hostilities.Republican reactions were more nuanced. Senator Rick Scott praised the ceasefire as “a strong first step toward holding Iran accountable,” while Senator Lindsey Graham expressed hope that diplomacy could “end the reign of terror of the Iranian regime,” cautioning that Iran should not be rewarded for its earlier attacks on the strait.Conversely, Rep. Dan Crenshaw, a Texas Republican known for breaking with Trump, dismissed critics as “pearl‑clutching,” arguing that the president’s “language of POWER” is what adversaries understand, and that diplomatic niceties alone achieve little.The episode underscores a volatile moment in US‑Iran relations, where a single diplomatic pivot averted an imminent escalation, yet left Congress divided over the president’s authority to wage war and the need for a lasting legislative solution.

The Black Death, which occurred between 1346 and 1353, was a pandemic that killed an estimated 100 million people, making it the most lethal natural disaster in human history. Historian Thomas Asbridge argues that the plague was more global than previously thought, affecting not just Europe but also the medieval world, including Sicily, Egypt, Syria, Spain, Sweden, and Russia.In his book, 'The Black Death: A Global History', Asbridge explores the social and economic impact of the pandemic, including the rise of antisemitism and the blaming of Jews for the plague, which led to massacres and persecution. He also examines the long-term consequences of the pandemic, including the end of serfdom and the weakening of the Byzantine Empire.Asbridge's work is based on a thorough analysis of contemporary chronicles and bureaucratic records, which provide a vivid picture of life during the pandemic. He also highlights the resilience of society during this time, with most people continuing to work and care for their loved ones, even in the face of overwhelming death and destruction.The book is a magisterial survey of the Black Death, offering a comprehensive and engaging history of one of the most significant events in human history. Asbridge's work is a timely reminder of the ongoing threat of pandemics and the importance of understanding their impact on human society.

Thirty years after the passionate road protests against the Newbury bypass, the elevated road now looms large, a constant reminder of the environmental costs of progress. For the author, who was part of the campaign, the Newbury bypass remains a sore point, even today.On a walk in The Chase, a nature reserve adjacent to the bypass, the author is accompanied by their friend Sarah, a 'cow watcher' for the National Trust. Their mission is to check on the wellbeing of conservation grazers – Shetland cows with upswept horns – which play a crucial role in maintaining biodiversity and plant life.The reserve, once common land with a rich history dating back to 1819, has been a playground for the author and Sarah. They recall devastating sewage spills that killed local wildlife and the great storms of 1987 and 1990 that left trees like 'spilled pencils.'As they wade across a stream to find the cows grazing among wild daffodils and golden saxifrages, memories of their children come flooding back – 'welly walks' with grandparents, watching great spotted woodpecker chicks fledge, and following silver-washed fritillary butterflies.Their walk complete, they meet at a garden centre cafe, where the author, aided by 'brain fog,' mistakenly heads to the pub first. The zigzag patterns of peaty-black mud from Sarah's boots across the polished floor serve as a humorous reminder of their conservation work and shared experiences.