Breaking AI & Tech News Analyzed

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.

János Bődey's photograph of two elderly ladies dressed as bride and groom in a Hungarian retirement home has captured the essence of joy and love in old age. The image is part of his series Carnival at the Retirement Home, which showcases the fulfilling lives of pensioners who have overcome difficulties.In Hungary, the average pension is approximately £500 a month, making it challenging for retirees to afford leisure, culture, or travel. Additionally, the health of Hungarian pensioners often falls short of Western standards, and securing a spot in a retirement home can be a lengthy process.Bődey's subjects, Magdolna, 87, and Irén, 86, have lived with their husbands for over 50 and 62 years, respectively, until their spouses passed away. They attribute their long and happy lives to a combination of good genes, an active lifestyle, and a healthy marriage.The photographer's series aims to serve as a role model for both peers and the middle generation, demonstrating that it's possible to lead a fulfilling life in old age. The elderly ladies recommend a healthy, active life with plenty of walking and traveling, as well as avoiding debt.Bődey's work is a departure from his usual coverage of conflicts and social issues. He finds inspiration in the happiness and playfulness of the carnival celebrations, which begin in February to mark the end of winter.The photographer's experience has taught him the importance of preparing for retirement by gathering emotional and financial resources, setting goals, and being creative. His series has been shortlisted for the Sony World Photography Awards 2026 and will be exhibited at Somerset House in London from April 17 to May 4.

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.

Karim Baksh of Dasht, a remote Balochistan village, once relied on a diesel‑powered pump to irrigate his watermelon fields. After the 2022 Russia‑Ukraine war drove diesel prices sky‑high, he could no longer afford the fuel, forcing him to cut back his cultivated area. In 2023 he took a gamble: borrowing 300,000 Pakistani rupees (≈ $1,075) from relatives and installing a modest row of solar panels. Three years later, the panels run his pump without diesel, letting him water his crops even as global oil markets tumble amid the US‑Israel war on Iran and the temporary closure of the Strait of Hormuz, through which 20% of world oil and gas normally flows. Baksh’s experience reflects a broader national shift. Pakistan imports about 80% of its oil via the Hormuz chokepoint and sources 99% of its LNG from Qatar and the UAE. A Council on Foreign Relations report warns that a prolonged closure could trigger severe power shortages, factory shutdowns, and transport disruptions. Yet a quiet solar revolution is building resilience. Since 2018, rooftop solar installations have saved Pakistan over $12 billion in fuel imports, and at current prices the sector is projected to save another $6.3 billion this year alone. According to the independent think‑tank EMBER, solar’s share of the national energy mix surged from 2.9% in 2020 to 32.3% in 2025. This growth is not the result of a single government plan but of millions of individual decisions—farmers swapping diesel pumps, businesses installing panels, and households seeking reliable electricity. In urban centres such as Lahore and Karachi, solar rooftops are commonplace. Homeowners typically recoup installation costs within a few years, enjoy free electricity thereafter, and can even sell surplus power back to the grid through net‑metering. By 2025, 25% of Pakistani households use solar in some form, up from 15% in 2023, with over 280,000 consumers now participating in net‑metering schemes. However, the benefits are uneven. The upfront cost of a 3 kW system—about 450,000 rupees ($1,610)—and larger commercial setups costing up to 2.2 million rupees ($7,874) remain out of reach for many low‑income families. Analysts warn that non‑solar users, largely poorer households, are subsidising the grid usage of solar owners. Net‑metering has already shifted an estimated 159 billion rupees (≈ $570 million) of costs onto other consumers, raising concerns about a two‑tier energy system. The rapid expansion is powered largely by imports from China, which controls roughly 80% of the global solar supply chain. Chinese lithium‑ion batteries, now 20% cheaper than in 2024, enable storage for nighttime use, further reducing reliance on the national grid. Solar panel prices have plummeted: from 100‑120 rupees per watt in the early 2010s to about 30 rupees per watt today. This price collapse, combined with electricity shortages and rising tariffs after the 2022 oil price spike, made solar an attractive alternative for those able to invest. Government policy has been mixed. A 2015 net‑metering scheme encouraged adoption by offering roughly 25 rupees ($0.090) per kilowatt‑hour for exported power and by reducing import taxes on panels. More recently, concerns over the financial strain on the power sector led to a cut in the buy‑back rate to about 10 rupees ($0.036) per kilowatt‑hour. For Baksh, the policy shifts matter little. His solar‑powered pump guarantees water for his watermelons regardless of diesel price swings or geopolitical turmoil. He plans to expand his solar array, increase production, and ship his harvest to larger markets in Quetta and Karachi. In a region where temperatures can soar to 51 °C (124 °F), the sun has become a reliable ally—ensuring that, for farmers like Baksh, “the water keeps flowing no matter what.”

The company's diverse portfolio and innovative approach to technology have made it an attractive investment opportunity. However, the use of AI in various sectors has also raised concerns about authenticity and originality, as seen in the backlash against authors and journalists who have used AI tools in their work.

Donald Trump's open threats to commit war crimes in Iran have raised concerns about his impunity. The US Supreme Court's recent ruling in Trump v United States has given him reason to believe he can act with impunity within the US. However, there are international options for prosecution that lie beyond the court's lawless license.Trump's plan to bomb Iran and destroy civilian infrastructure, such as desalination plants, electrical-generating facilities, and bridges, would violate international humanitarian law's rule of proportionality. The destruction of civilian infrastructure would have a disproportionate impact on civilians, and therefore, it is not justified.The International Criminal Court (ICC) has charged Russian military commanders with war crimes for attacking electrical infrastructure in Ukraine. Similarly, Trump's actions could be prosecuted as war crimes. However, the ICC has no jurisdiction over crimes committed on Iranian territory since Iran is not a member of the ICC.There are alternative routes for prosecution. The Iranian government could join the ICC and grant it retroactive jurisdiction, similar to what Ukraine did to allow prosecution of Russian war crimes. Additionally, under the concept of universal jurisdiction, governments can use their national courts to prosecute certain crimes even if committed by non-nationals abroad.A group of countries, such as the European Union, NATO, or the G7, could establish an international tribunal to address crimes committed in Iran, including war crimes and aggression. This would allow Trump to be prosecuted as soon as the tribunal is established, without waiting for him to leave office.

Judith Rapoport, a leading child psychiatrist, passed away at 92, leaving a legacy defined by her groundbreaking work on obsessive‑compulsive disorder (OCD). Her 1989 book, The Boy Who Couldn’t Stop Washing, translated into more than twenty languages, presented complex research in a clear, jargon‑free style that resonated with a broad audience. OCD is characterized by compulsive rituals—re‑tying shoelaces, repeatedly checking switches, or incessant hand‑washing—that can dominate a person’s daily life. Before Rapoport’s book, many sufferers concealed their symptoms out of shame, unaware that they were not alone. Rapoport’s research demonstrated that OCD has a neurological foundation and may affect up to 2% of the population, challenging prevailing beliefs that it stemmed from overly strict parenting. She proved that the disorder can be hereditary and responsive to medication. In a pivotal 1989 double‑blind trial, she showed that the antidepressant clomipramine significantly reduced OCD symptoms, prompting the U.S. Food and Drug Administration to approve its use for the condition—a landmark moment in psychiatric treatment. Patients and colleagues credit her work with reducing stigma. "Reading Rapoport’s book washed away my shame," recalled Charles Gentz, who lives with OCD, while Professor Gabrielle Shapiro of the Icahn School of Medicine noted that the book “reduced the stigma for these people.” Rapoport herself reflected, “If my work alleviated just part of their pain, then it was not wasted time.” Born in New York City to a schoolteacher mother and a businessman father, she grew up with a literary lineage—her grandfather translated Ibsen into Yiddish. She excelled academically, graduating magna cum laude from Swarthmore College in 1955** and earning her medical degree from Harvard Medical School in 1959, where she met her husband, Stanley Rapoport. After early positions at Mount Sinai and the Massachusetts Mental Health Center, she and her husband secured fellowships in Sweden, conducting research at Uppsala University and the Karolinska Institute on women seeking abortions abroad. Returning to the United States, Rapoport joined the National Institute of Mental Health (NIMH) in 1976. There she led the institute’s child psychiatry branch from 1984, steering American psychiatry away from Freudian models toward a **biology‑focused** approach. Beyond OCD, she made significant contributions to the understanding of attention‑deficit hyperactivity disorder (ADHD) and childhood schizophrenia. Her 1978 study revealed that amphetamine improved concentration in both hyperactive and control children, contradicting the notion that stimulants only calm hyperactivity. Using MRI, she showed that childhood schizophrenia is progressive, involving loss of brain matter—a finding that shifted the focus from parenting to neurobiology. Rapoport’s expertise reached mainstream audiences through appearances on shows hosted by Oprah Winfrey and Larry King, further amplifying her message. By the time she retired in 2017, she had authored over 300 scientific papers, several books, and earned prestigious honors, including fellowship in the Institute of Medicine (1991) and the American Academy of Arts and Sciences (2000). Colleague Gabrielle Shapiro described her as “a pioneer who turned child psychiatry into a modern, evidence‑based discipline.” Outside the laboratory, she enjoyed music, theatre, hiking, and gardening. She is survived by her husband, two sons, and four grandsons.

President Donald Trump issued an unprecedented ultimatum on Tuesday, stating that if Iran does not reopen the Strait of Hormuz by 8 p.m. ET, he will "completely annihilate the entirety of Iranian civilization." The threat, posted on his Truth Social platform, was accompanied by language suggesting a total regime change and a benediction to the Iranian people. Democratic officials reacted with alarm. Senator Patty Murray called the post "the rantings of a bloodthirsty lunatic," while Senator Chris Coons labeled it "a threat to commit a war crime." Representative Joaquin Castro warned that the rhetoric implied either a nuclear option or an attempt to convince Tehran of such a possibility, and Rep. Bonnie Watson Coleman urged invoking the 25th Amendment to remove the president from office. Legal scholars highlighted that the United States and Iran are parties to the Fourth Geneva Convention, which bans collective punishment of civilian populations, and to Additional Protocol I, which prohibits attacks on essential civilian infrastructure. Although the U.S. has not ratified the protocol, a 2024 Biden‑era statement affirmed that its core principles are binding as customary international law. During a chaotic White House press conference, Trump reiterated that "the entire country could be taken out in one night" if Iran failed to meet the deadline, and dismissed concerns about civilian casualties by claiming Iranian civilians themselves were urging continued bombing. When pressed about violations of the Geneva Conventions, he did not dispute the legal point but responded, "I hope I don’t have to do it." The Iranian Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps responded that the strait "will never return to its previous state" for the United States and its allies, underscoring the escalating rhetoric on both sides. Amid the diplomatic flare‑up, the administration also submitted a $1.5 trillion Pentagon budget request, featuring sweeping cuts to domestic programs, further intensifying scrutiny of the president’s foreign‑policy priorities. Critics note contradictions in Trump’s stance: weeks earlier he claimed the U.S. had no strategic need for Hormuz, yet now the strait’s reopening is the centerpiece of his ultimatum. He simultaneously declared the war "won" while threatening its most destructive phase. With Democrats urging constitutional remedies and international law experts warning of potential war‑crime violations, the situation places U.S. foreign policy and domestic governance under unprecedented pressure.

When Elle Middlemas turned 18, she began wondering whether she owned a Child Trust Fund (CTF) – a government‑backed savings account created for children born between 1 September 2002 and 2 January 2011. Her search hit a dead end; she could not confirm if she was entitled to any money and an email to HMRC yielded no response.Middlemas, a Whitby college student, explained that the loss of her mother at age 11 left her with little guidance. “My sister is 21 and spent three years looking for a fund and found nothing, so we assumed we didn’t have one,” she said, expressing the frustration felt by many of her peers.She and her sister are part of an estimated 758,000 people aged 18‑23 who have unclaimed CTFs. Collectively, these dormant accounts hold roughly £1.5 bn, a substantial sum that disproportionately belongs to low‑income families who are often unaware of its existence.Advocates are now pressing the government to automatically release CTFs when holders reach 21 years of age. Experts estimate that such a policy could inject up to £286 m directly into the pockets of young people who need it most.Middlemas finally learned of her entitlement after a conversation with a friend’s parent six months after her birthday. She discovered the Share Foundation, a charity that helps reconnect youths with their funds, and located a NatWest account bearing her name.“I had £700 sitting in my bank and thought, ‘What is going on?’ My sister also had one but never knew how to access it,” she recalled. The sisters plan to use the money to support university expenses and repay debts, underscoring the tangible impact of the scheme.The CTF programme was launched by the Labour government in 2005 to encourage parental savings. Every child received a £250 government contribution, with an additional £250 for those from low‑income families or in local authority care. Parents could add up to £9,000 per year, and any investment gains accrued until the child turned 18.If a parent failed to open an account within 12 months of birth, HMRC would create one on the child’s behalf. Today, the average value of a CTF stands at about £2,200.More than two‑thirds of the six million original recipients are now over 18 and eligible to claim their funds, with HMRC‑allocated accounts representing 28 % of all CTFs.Geographically, the North‑East of England has the highest concentration of HMRC‑allocated accounts, totalling £48 m. Across the UK, youths from the most disadvantaged 15 % of families hold accounts averaging £2,900 in value.Gavin Oldham, chief executive of the Share Foundation, warned that the scheme is hampered by poor communication, limited financial education, and “policy neglect”. He indicated the charity is considering a judicial review to compel the government to release the unclaimed assets.Oldham noted that the charity has already linked “well over 100,000 accounts to young adults”, yet the “sheer quantum of these unclaimed accounts remains a major problem”.“It is strange to find a government which expresses concern over youth poverty while doing so little to deliver on a groundbreaking scheme,” Oldham added.The charity’s proposal to release HMRC‑allocated funds automatically at 21 would free roughly £500 m, including £350 mOldham cautioned that a legal challenge, while potentially successful, could delay payouts for years, leaving vulnerable youths “denied their birthright for far too long”.Beyond immediate release, the Share Foundation is urging the creation of a new, targeted scheme for low‑income youths that embeds a financial‑awareness component, allowing participants to top up their funds through education‑linked incentives.Labour MP Laura Kyrke‑Smith echoed these concerns, describing the CTF system as “confusing and opaque” and calling for proactive tracing of account holders and clearer public information.HMRC responded that it is “directly sending every eligible young person information to help them find their child trust fund”, while also raising awareness via social media, broadcast interviews, and an online tracing tool. The agency added that banks, building societies, and investment firms managing the funds share responsibility for communicating with account holders.