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Last‑Minute Discount Deadline Fuels Urgency With only three days left before the April 10, 11:59 p.m. PT deadline, prospective attendees can lock in savings of up to $500 on a TechCrunch Disrupt 2026 pass. The limited‑time offer is designed to attract founders, operators, and VCs eager to secure a seat at the epicenter of the tech ecosystem. What the 2026 Disrupt Event Brings to the Table From October 13‑15 at Moscone West, the conference will gather 10,000+ founders, operators, and venture capitalists for three days of high‑signal conversations and deal‑making. Highlights include: Over 20,000 curated meetings recorded in the previous year. Upgraded networking tools aimed at more targeted connections. Startup Battlefield featuring 200 pre‑Series A companies competing for $100,000 in equity‑free funding. More than 300 startup exhibitors showcasing new products in the Expo Hall. Side events from October 11‑17 across the Bay Area, including breakfasts, cocktail hours, panels, and founder meetups. Financial and Scale Metrics Highlight Event Weight The discount translates to a direct cost reduction for attendees, while the event itself drives significant economic activity: Potential savings of up to $500 per pass, lowering the barrier for early‑stage founders. Historical data shows 20,000+ curated meetings, indicating high deal‑flow potential. The $100,000 equity‑free prize pool for Battlefield winners can accelerate growth trajectories. Why This Discount Matters for the Startup Ecosystem Access to Disrupt is more than content; it’s a gateway to capital, talent, and market validation. By reducing the price point, TechCrunch widens participation, enabling: Early‑stage startups to pitch directly to top‑tier VCs. Founders to secure curated meetings that can change company trajectories. Investors to source high‑quality deals in a concentrated environment. Looking Ahead: What 2026 Disrupt Could Shape Given the scale and the upgraded networking tools, the 2026 edition is poised to amplify trends in AI, hardware, and growth strategy. Expect: Increased cross‑border collaborations as global founders converge. More data‑driven matchmaking, leading to higher conversion rates from meetings to investments. Emergence of new category‑defining startups, following the legacy of alumni like Discord, Cloudflare, and Trello. Stakeholders who secure their passes now position themselves at the forefront of these developments.

In a revealing glimpse of the club’s ironclad exclusivity, a 2019 iMessage exchange shows Jeffrey Epstein pleading with Steve Bannon to secure a membership for Paul, Weiss partner Brad Karp. Bannon dismissed the request, describing Augusta’s governing families as "crackers" from the Old South who distrust lawyers and bankers, underscoring the club’s cultural gatekeeping. That anecdote illustrates a broader truth: money alone cannot buy entry to the Masters. Even former President Donald Trump has never been able to force his way onto the Augusta grounds, a rarity among high‑profile U.S. sporting events. Traditionally, most tickets are allocated to lifelong local patrons, a practice that has been frozen since the 1970s. The only official avenue for the public is an annual lottery, where the odds are so slim they make Tiger Woods’ chances of a sixth Green Jacket look generous. In practice, however, a lucrative secondary market emerged, with scalpers selling tickets for up to 50 times face value and operating just outside the 2,700‑foot anti‑scalping boundary mandated by Georgia law. Last year’s Masters turned into a "bloodbath" for the resale industry. An executive from a local hospitality firm reported that around 200 ticket holders were denied entry after the club began rigorously enforcing its anti‑scalping policy. Patrons were sometimes escorted to a room, asked for identification, and interrogated about how they obtained their tickets – a process likened to a police stop. According to insiders, the club’s four‑day tickets now contain RFID chips that allow staff to track each badge’s location nightly. The embedded barcodes allegedly store the buyer’s address, enabling staff to pinpoint resale activity. Some reports claim the club is even purchasing resale tickets en masse to uncover the identities of sellers, then sending a politely worded letter that permanently bans the recipient from the grounds. Ticket platforms have felt the impact. StubHub has introduced a new contract that makes sellers fully liable for any fees or charges if a buyer is turned away, while SeatGeek has ceased offering Masters tickets altogether. This decisive move by Augusta National signals a broader shift in how elite sports events manage secondary markets. Ultimately, the crackdown serves a dual purpose: protecting the club’s brand integrity and reinforcing its reputation as an institution that remains untouched by even the most powerful political figures. As the Masters approaches, the message is clear – the only way onto Augusta’s hallowed fairways is through its own tightly‑controlled channels, not through the influence of money, politics, or the resale trade.

Stephen Fry opened his appearance on ITV’s The Assembly with a startling question: “You tried to kill yourself a couple of times. Are you happy to be alive now?” The boldness set the tone for a conversation that veered far from the usual celebrity‑friendly script.The programme distinguishes itself by placing a well‑known guest in front of a panel of young adults with neurodivergence or learning disabilities. Free from the conventional safeguards of mainstream talk shows, the panel asks questions that are simultaneously unconventional and deeply human, prompting guests to respond without the usual rehearsed veneer.For Fry, the format proved liberating. Known for translating complex ideas into accessible language, he used the platform to discuss suicidal ideation, likening the experience to the lingering memory of a broken limb—painful yet now distant. This candidness allowed him to reaffirm why he remains a cultural touchstone.One of the most memorable moments came when a participant asked, “I read that you are bipolar. One of my family has that. How can I help them?” Fry responded with a vivid analogy, describing bipolar disorder as a “rainstorm raging inside you—eventually the sun returns, and it’s the weather, not the person, that changes.” This explanation resonated as both compassionate and educational.The interview oscillated between gravitas and levity. Fry fielded whimsical queries such as “Can you help me meet Céline Dion?” and “How much have you spent on cocaine?” alongside the probing “Are you a top or a bottom?” The juxtaposition amplified the emotional weight of the serious topics.At one point, a young panelist named Luca chose not to ask a question, instead performing William Wordsworth’s poem “The World Is Too Much With Us” with theatrical flair—a rare blend of poetry and performance that underscored the show’s experimental spirit.Another highlight involved Jacob, a panel member who brandished a list of Fry’s past advertising gigs—Heineken, Twinings, Honda, and more—before delivering the punchline, “Is there anything you wouldn’t do for money?” The extended joke built a collective laugh that softened the subsequent, more probing inquiries.Critics have likened the show’s tone to a hybrid of Radio 4’s In the Psychiatrist’s Chair and the cheeky, irreverent style of classic British comedy interviews such as those with Dame Edna Everage or Mrs Merton, creating a unique space where vulnerability and humor coexist.The episode concluded with Nina Simone’s “I Wish I Knew How It Would Feel to Be Free” playing as Fry reflected on his experiences with antisemitism and bipolar disorder. Moved by the music, he rose and danced, offering a visual testament to the therapeutic power of the format.The Assembly aired on ITV1 and is now available for streaming on ITVX.

In the spring of 2002, the modest Free Butt pub on Brighton’s seafront buzzed with a restless energy. Future stars such as Natasha Khan, then a university art student, danced atop the bar while the Yeah Yeah Yeahs thundered through their first UK dates. Behind the scenes, band frontmen like Guy McKnight of Eighties Matchbox B‑Line Disaster served pints, and budding engineers like Steve Ansell of Cat on Form fine‑tuned the sound. The atmosphere felt like a rite of passage, where any performer could slip from a cramped stage to national attention.Unlike the neatly branded scenes of New York’s garage‑rock revival or London’s Libertines‑driven hype, Brighton’s early‑2000s scene resisted a single aesthetic. Rock groups emerged from rehearsal rooms and tiny clubs with wildly different looks and sounds, creating a cultural mosaic rather than a monolithic movement.Electrelane’s guitarist recalls recording their debut Rock It to the Moon in a studio once owned by the Levellers, and crafting their sophomore effort inside a former public toilet. These unconventional spaces proved surprisingly fertile, underscoring the city’s DIY spirit.By the turn of the millennium, the big‑beat dominance of Fatboy Slim and Skint Records had faded, making way for a grassroots rock surge. Sea Power relocated from Reading to Brighton, drawn by the city’s “dilapidated charm and fresh sea air”. Their self‑organized Club Sea Power nights at the Lift offered a chaotic yet liberating platform that eventually caught Rough Trade’s attention.Women played a pivotal role in shaping the scene’s infrastructure. Promoters Lisa Lout and Anna Moulson, both still active, booked seminal shows—including the Strokes’ first UK gig at the Lift in 2001—and helped launch the Great Escape festival. Their efforts ensured that bands such as the Pipettes, Electrelane and Bat for Lashes could share stages and media coverage.Artists recall the city’s palpable sense of belonging. Rose Dougall of the Pipettes describes a landscape where “alternative culture was on every street, from vintage shops to the colour of the houses,” and where “small venues made it feel attainable to launch a project.” Similarly, Brakes frontman Eamon Hamilton contrasts Brighton’s walk‑able, collaborative vibe with London’s darker, more competitive energy.Music journalism mirrored the scene’s intensity. Everett True and photographer Steve Gullick launched Careless Talk Costs Lives in 2002, a deliberately short‑run magazine that championed female writers and bands at a time when the industry was still heavily male‑dominated.As rents surged through the 2010s, many of the cheap flats, rehearsal rooms and iconic venues that underpinned the scene vanished. The Free Butt closed, independent record stores shuttered, and the once‑abundant low‑cost infrastructure dwindled, prompting a migration of creative energy down the coast to places like Margate, Ramsgate, Folkestone and Shoreham.Nevertheless, the remnants of Brighton’s network continue to nurture new talent, from the Kooks to Dream Wife and Gazelle Twin. The city’s strength lies not in a singular sound but in its capacity to host a “constant collision of wildly dissimilar bands,” allowing artists to develop authentically and fearlessly.

The chief executive of the British Horseracing Authority (BHA), Brant Dunshea, announced that the sport is prepared to consider more direct‑action protests as it confronts the government’s proposal to introduce affordability checks for punters. Last September’s one‑day strike, which forced the cancellation of four meetings, proved decisive: it helped the government abandon a planned increase in betting tax from 15% to 21%, a rise the BHA estimated would have cost the industry £330 million. Following the “Axe the Racing Tax” campaign, the BHA is now urging the government to rethink the affordability checks that could require up to 120,000 regular gamblers to provide personal documentation, according to the Betting and Gaming Council. Independent modelling by EY suggests that as many as 44,000 bettors might migrate to black‑market operators, eroding the industry’s betting turnover by tens of millions of pounds. Betting turnover has already fallen by £2 billion since 2021. The Gambling Commission is slated to decide on the checks next month, while more than 400 racing figures – including trainers and MPs – have signed an open letter to Culture Secretary Lisa Nandy demanding intervention. “Our campaign will continue, and direct action is part of our broader strategy, though we will not discuss specifics publicly,” Dunshea said. He highlighted the power of collective action, noting that the industry’s cultural and economic significance was recognised in the government’s recent budget announcement. Recent pilot schemes, involving three credit‑reference agencies, produced inconsistent outcomes for the same individuals, raising concerns that the checks could push more punters toward illegal markets. Data from Yield Sec shows that the share of the UK gambling market held by black‑market operators surged from 0.43% in 2020 to 9% last year, with £379 million wagered on unlicensed platforms that do not contribute to the exchequer. Dunshea stressed that any affordability measure must be truly frictionless. “Consumers are price‑sensitive and protective of their personal data; any intervention that feels invasive will drive them elsewhere,” he warned. Amid the upcoming Grand National at Aintree, Dunshea expressed surprise at recent comments from the RSPCA regarding horse deaths at Cheltenham, reaffirming the BHA’s commitment to a collaborative relationship with the animal‑welfare charity. He noted that over the past 25 years, the industry has invested £60 million in equine welfare, reducing fatality rates to 0.22% of runners, and emphasized that the BHA will continue to work constructively with the RSPCA despite recent tensions.

Footage captured on the streets of Tehran shows small groups of citizens gathering around Enghelab Square – a historic rally point for pro‑regime supporters – some waving Iranian flags, others draped over their backs. The atmosphere is far from uniform; debates and arguments erupted shortly after the ceasefire announcement, reflecting a spectrum of emotions from shock to tentative hope.The video, posted by Majid Nouri – son of former prison official Hamid Nouri – includes his running commentary. He notes that the discussions began around 3 a.m. and continued into the morning, with participants expressing both anger and disbelief. "In no way do we trust America," Nouri declared, echoing a sentiment he says is shared by virtually every Iranian.Pro‑government demonstrators were heard chanting "Death to America, death to Israel, death to compromisers!" and burning U.S. and Israeli flags, according to the Associated Press. The chants persisted despite attempts by organizers to calm the crowd, underscoring the depth of anti‑Western feeling among hardliners.While the ceasefire halted active hostilities, the war has already claimed at least 1,900 lives in Iran. With internet services largely blacked out, gauging the broader public mood is challenging, but pockets of Tehran reported subdued celebrations in the early hours of Wednesday.Local resident Ali, a 31‑year‑old, summed up the prevailing uncertainty: "Most people here don’t trust the US and still don’t know exactly what is going to happen, so they are unsure whether they should be happy or worried." He warned that the ceasefire’s two‑week duration offers no guarantee of lasting peace.Business owners are beginning to test the waters. Hamid, a 43‑year‑old shopkeeper whose grocery and cleaning‑supplies store closed after the February bombings, said, "Today feels like there is no war," and he has reopened his shop, hoping to recover lost income for his family.Iranian officials are framing the pause as a diplomatic victory. Former foreign minister Ali Akbar Velayati posted on X that the conflict has reshaped the global power balance, positioning Iran within a new multipolar order. President Masoud Pezeshkian praised the ceasefire as the fruit of the blood of Iran’s “great martyred leader” and the collective will of the people.Strategically, the ceasefire highlights Tehran’s ability to disrupt the vital Strait of Hormuz, a chokepoint for global oil shipments. Analysts note that this leverage could bolster Iran’s negotiating stance, even as former U.S. President Donald Trump previously warned that a full‑scale clash would threaten "a whole civilisation." As sunrise illuminated the capital, daily life resumed with shops reopening and traffic returning to the streets, yet the prevailing mood remains a blend of exhaustion, cautious optimism, and lingering mistrust of the United States.

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.

Turkey has emerged as the world’s most aggressive adopter of grid‑scale battery storage, with more than 33 GW approved since 2022, according to a new Ember analysis. That figure dwarfs the total planned and operational capacity of leading EU nations such as Germany and Italy, which together sit at roughly 12‑13 GW.The surge reflects a 2022 mandate that grants preferential grid access to renewable projects that pair generation with an equal amount of storage. Of the 221 GW of battery projects submitted, Turkey has green‑lit 33 GW—equivalent to about 83% of its current wind and solar capacity. Only Romania in the EU shows a higher storage‑to‑renewable ratio.Policy analyst Ufuk Alparslan of Ember described the move as a “massive investment signal” that could make Turkey the backbone of a new, clean regional energy hub, especially ahead of the Cop31 climate summit in Antalya this November.Cost declines have been a key catalyst: the price of solar panels and battery packs has fallen by nearly 90% over the past decade, unlocking affordable, reliable power for countries in the global south. University of Wisconsin‑Madison researcher Greg Nemet noted that this price plunge creates “a tremendous opportunity for a cheap, clean and reliable energy system.”Despite the battery boom, Turkey’s energy mix remains heavily coal‑dependent, with coal accounting for 34% of electricity generation last year. The nation generates roughly one‑fifth of its power from wind and solar—higher than any Middle Eastern or Central Asian country but still below the European average.Turkey aims to boost installed wind and solar capacity to 120 GW by 2035, up from the current 40 GW. However, the 6.5 GW added in the most recent year fell short of the 8 GW needed to stay on track, highlighting implementation challenges.Alparslan cautioned that the ambitious battery pipeline faces hurdles, including permit bottlenecks and reliance on volatile spot‑market electricity prices. Moreover, Turkey’s extensive hydropower resources lessen the immediate need for large‑scale batteries compared with many European states.Nevertheless, the country’s decisive policy stance sends a clear message: even as the global fossil‑fuel crisis intensifies—exacerbated by geopolitical tensions such as the Iran‑Hormuz conflict—Turkey is positioning itself at the forefront of the clean‑energy transition.

Opening new oil and gas fields in the North Sea would send a shock wave around the world, senior climate diplomats warned, saying the move would imperil international climate targets, erode the United Kingdom’s reputation as a climate leader and embolden developing countries to exploit their own fossil‑fuel reserves.The UK government faces intense lobbying from the oil industry, Conservative MPs, Nigel Farage’s Reform UK party, certain trade unions and factions within the Treasury. Yet research shows that new drilling would do little to lower energy prices and would have almost no impact on gas imports.Two of the remaining large North Sea prospects – the Rosebank and Jackdaw fields – sit in a basin that is over 90% depleted and increasingly costly to develop. Even if fully exploited, they would displace only about 1% and 2% of the UK’s gas imports respectively, according to recent analysis.Senior figures in international climate diplomacy described the prospect of new drilling as dangerous for global emissions‑reduction efforts and a step back from the phase‑out of fossil fuels.Lord Nicolas Stern, professor at the London School of Economics, warned that “new drilling and a slowdown in climate action would be bad for growth and for energy security in the UK, and a damaging signal for the world.” He added that the UK’s pioneering climate legislation and its role as the first G7 nation to commit to net‑zero by 2050 give its actions “extra weight” on the global stage.An anonymous senior African negotiator reacted angrily to the proposal, stating that Africa would “reject any proposal for the UK to expand oil drilling” because it is “fundamentally inconsistent with both the letter and spirit of the Paris Agreement” and would “weaken trust with climate‑vulnerable nations”.Christiana Figueres, former UN climate chief and co‑founder of the Global Optimism think‑tank, argued that true energy independence lies in “scaling clean, domestic energy, not in extending the life of declining industries”. She cautioned that reverting to old‑fashioned oil expansion would lock in infrastructure at odds with the direction of the global energy system.The UK has been a vocal supporter of an upcoming conference in Colombia on the “transition away from fossil fuels”, a pledge made three years ago at COP28 that remains largely unfulfilled. However, the Guardian learned that Ed Miliband, the UK secretary of state for energy security and net‑zero, will not attend; the government’s climate envoy, Rachel Kyte, will travel in his place.Campaigners had urged Miliband’s presence, citing his pivotal role in securing a last‑minute deal at COP30 in Brazil last November.Experts caution that licensing new fields before the Colombian summit could undermine progress in persuading developing nations to forgo fossil‑fuel‑based economies and adopt cleaner energy pathways.Mohamed Adow, director of the Power Shift Africa think‑tank, warned that a UK approval would “send a shock wave around the world that short‑term interests are being prioritised over long‑term responsibility”. He stressed that many African countries are being asked to leapfrog to clean energy with limited financial support, and that wealthy nations continuing to invest in fossil fuels “undermine this message and diminish their credibility”.Several developing‑country officials echoed this concern, asking, “Why shouldn’t we tap into our own fossil‑fuel resources if the UK is doing so?” They argued that leadership on climate must be consistent with actions.An ally of Miliband praised the UK’s stance, calling “no new exploration licences” a “landmark global leadership position” that shows a major oil‑producing country can align policy with climate science to avoid a 3‑4°C warming scenario.A government spokesperson reaffirmed the administration’s commitment, stating that the UK has placed “clean energy and climate at the heart of its agenda”, and that it will continue to “stop issuing licences to explore new fields, in line with the science and in securing a just transition in the North Sea”.