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GSK has revealed promising early results for its treatment for gynaecological cancers, Mocertatug Rezetecan (Mo-Rez), as its chief executive, Luke Miels, seeks to speed up drug development at the group.The company reported that in an early-stage trial, Mo-Rez shrank or eliminated tumours in 62% of patients with ovarian cancer where chemotherapy had failed, and in 67% of those with endometrial cancer.GSK acquired the Mo-Rez cancer treatment, an antibody-drug conjugate (ADC), from China’s Hansoh Pharma in late 2023, and has trialled it in 224 patients around the world, including the UK, over the past year. Few patients needed to stop treatment because of side-effects, the most common being nausea. It is administered every three weeks via intravenous infusion.Combined with data from a separate, intermediate trial in China, these results give GSK the confidence to go straight to late-stage trials, with five clinical studies planned globally in the next few months, including on patients in the UK.Presenting the results at the Society of Gynecologic Oncology’s annual meeting on women’s cancer in Puerto Rico, Hesham Abdullah, GSK’s global head of cancer research and development, said: “Treatment of gynaecological cancers remains a major challenge, with a pressing need for new therapies that offer improved response rates. With Mo-Rez we now have compelling evidence of a promising clinical profile.”Endometrial cancer affects 1.6 million women globally, with 417,000 new cases each year. Ovarian cancer affects 843,000 people, with 240,000 new cases annually.Abdullah described Mo-Rez as a “key asset” in the company’s growing cancer portfolio, expected to be a blockbuster drug with peak annual sales of more than £2bn, which GSK hopes will help it achieve its 2031 sales target of £40bn.

When a Toronto reader confessed to always using "please" and "thank you" with Alexa, the Guardian invited its audience to share their thoughts on the etiquette of speaking to artificial assistants.One camp warns against treating AI as sentient beings, arguing that these systems merely mimic social cues and that confusing imitation with reality can erode our language’s power to challenge dehumanisation. As User30000 put it, we should avoid both de‑humanising language toward people and humanising language toward machines.Conversely, several contributors argue that politeness serves as a useful human default. Lauk notes that courteous phrasing may reinforce positive behavioural cues for AI that learn from user input, while also keeping the speaker grounded in genuine social norms.From an ecological standpoint, extra words translate into measurable energy and water waste. Superspartan highlights that each unnecessary token adds processing load to already energy‑intensive models, and that the cumulative effect of polite phrasing across millions of daily interactions could be substantial.Academic research supports the idea that courteous language can improve AI performance. A linked study finds that polite prompts often elicit more helpful replies, treating modern models as "statistical parrots" that mirror the tone they receive. Yet Sam Altman has publicly estimated that responding to thank‑you notes costs OpenAI tens of millions of dollars, underscoring a tangible financial dimension to the debate.Some readers take a lighter view, extending politeness to elevators, SUVs and even low‑battery iPads, while others, like Martin from Dorset, argue that the practice protects the human soul rather than the machine.There is growing concern that habitual rudeness toward AI may spill over into real‑world interactions. Poridgeoates observes that younger users, who spend more time with technology than with people, risk weakening empathy and emotional‑intelligence muscles if they treat conversational agents dismissively.Louise adds that the way we speak to objects can shape broader social behaviour, especially where power imbalances exist. While AI itself may not feel insulted, the act of being rude can reinforce undesirable character traits in the speaker.Overall, the discussion reveals a split between those who see politeness as a harmless habit that can improve AI responses, and those who view it as an unnecessary drain on resources and a potential threat to human civility.

Malina Lee, a 31‑year‑old wedding baker from San Antonio, joined TikTok in 2020 to pass the lockdown‑induced boredom and promote her business. Four years later, an anonymous commenter called “PickleFart” noticed an asymmetrical neck in one of her videos and suggested she check for a goiter.The tip proved accurate: doctors confirmed thyroid cancer. Lee received prompt treatment and, within a year, was declared cancer‑free. She told the outlet that her oncologist was amazed at how early the disease was caught, crediting the TikTok comment as the catalyst.Lee’s experience is part of a growing trend where TikTok’s hyper‑targeted algorithm surfaces health‑related content that resonates with users’ unnoticed symptoms. In several cases, community members have flagged potential conditions that clinicians initially missed.The “PickleFart” persona belongs to Billie Jean Tuomi, who calls herself the “thyroid avenger.” A thyroid‑cancer survivor herself (diagnosed in 2012), Tuomi now scans videos for neck asymmetry and gently advises creators to seek a thyroid panel—a blood test measuring hormone levels and antibodies. The American Thyroid Association recommends adults start routine thyroid testing at age 35, or annually for high‑risk individuals.Tuomi estimates she has flagged dozens of videos, with at least four confirmed serious thyroid issues, including Lee’s. She stresses she does not claim to diagnose, merely urges viewers to consult a physician. After a viral comment, she received a flood of private messages with neck photos, prompting her to change her username.Lee, inspired by Tuomi’s intervention, has begun commenting on other users’ videos, helping one individual discover an enlarged thyroid that required removal. She describes the process as a “domino effect” of community‑driven health awareness.Medical professionals acknowledge the double‑edged nature of this phenomenon. Craig Mittleman, director of emergency services at Lawrence + Memorial Hospital, notes a rise in patients arriving with self‑diagnoses sourced from social media. While this can empower patients to ask informed questions, it also burdens clinicians with debunking misinformation.Gender disparities amplify the issue: research shows women are more likely to seek health information online, often after feeling dismissed by traditional providers. TikTok user Tori Mosser, a 23‑year‑old filmmaker, credits a direct message suggesting chronic appendicitis for prompting surgery that resolved her chronic vomiting episodes.Both Lee and Mosser emphasize the therapeutic value of finding a supportive community on TikTok, especially for invisible or chronic illnesses that are frequently minimized in clinical settings.

After serving in Afghanistan, Army Ranger Jesse Gould developed PTSD and turned to drinking to cope. Seeking an alternative to lifelong medication, Gould discovered psilocybin in Peru, which significantly alleviated his symptoms.Gould founded the Heroic Hearts Project, a non-profit hosting ayahuasca and psilocybin retreats for veterans. The organization has helped over 1,500 veterans and their spouses without any psychotic episodes.State lawmakers are taking notice of psilocybin's potential health benefits, with Colorado, New Mexico, and Oregon legalizing it for therapeutic use. At least eight states are considering similar legislation, despite some arguing that the FDA should approve it first.Research suggests psilocybin can be safe and effective when administered with psychological support. A 2025 study found it was associated with symptomatic improvement in adults with PTSD. Clinical psychologist Joseph Zamaria notes that psilocybin can disrupt the brain's default mode network, allowing people to detach from harmful narratives.However, some experts, like Albert Garcia-Romeu, are skeptical about state-led legalization without FDA approval, citing potential unknown risks. Gould counters that the suicide rate among veterans is a pressing issue, with 35 deaths per 100,000 people in 2023, more than double the general population's rate.

OpenAI, a leading AI company, has recently released a 13-page policy paper titled 'Industrial Policy for the Intelligence Age,' which calls for a reimagining of the social contract around 'a slate of people-first ideas.' This move is part of an aggressive effort by major AI players to reshape the narrative around their industry, as public disapproval of AI is increasing.OpenAI's paper proposes ideas such as a four-day workweek and a public wealth fund that would return profits directly to citizens. While the company presents these ideas as a starting point for a broader conversation, critics argue that they are more of a public relations ploy than a genuine policy document.OpenAI spent nearly $3m on lobbying in 2025, and its president, Greg Brockman, co-founded a pro-AI Super Pac that raised more than $125m last year. The company is also backing a bill in Illinois that would shield AI firms from liability in cases where an AI model causes serious societal harms.Critics argue that these efforts are aimed at undermining independent efforts to regulate the industry and that the company's proposals shift responsibility away from the company and towards the public and lawmakers. As public distrust of AI grows, the industry is looking for ways to reframe the debate and influence regulation.A Pew Research Center survey found that only 16% of Americans believe that AI will help people think more creatively, while only 5% of Americans believe it will help people better form meaningful relationships. An NBC News poll found that only 26% of voters had a favorable opinion of AI, with a net negative rating.

This week Anthropic revealed that its latest AI system, dubbed Mythos, is so powerful that the company will not make it publicly available, arguing that the potential risks outweigh commercial incentives.U.S. Treasury Secretary Scott Bessent convened senior banking executives to discuss the implications of the model, underscoring growing governmental concern over advanced AI capabilities.In the United Kingdom, Reform MP Danny Kruger wrote to the government urging an immediate dialogue with Anthropic, warning that Claude Mythos could pose "catastrophic cybersecurity risks" to the nation.Critics such as AI researcher Gary Marcus questioned the hype, suggesting that Anthropic’s co‑founder Dario Amodei may possess strong technical skills but is "graduated from the same school of hype and exaggeration" as OpenAI’s Sam Altman.Beyond the policy debate, Anthropic has mounted a striking media offensive. The startup secured a 10,000‑word profile in the New Yorker, two feature pieces in the Wall Street Journal, and a Time magazine cover that placed founder Amodei alongside the Pentagon and U.S. Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth.Co‑founder Jack Clark and Amodei appeared on separate New York Times podcasts, fielding questions about machine consciousness and the model’s potential to "rip through the economy." Their "resident philosopher" even discussed with the WSJ whether Claude, Anthropic’s commercial product used for cryptocurrency trading and missile‑target designation, possesses a "sense of self."Anthropic’s public‑relations lead, Danielle Ghiglieri, celebrated the coverage on LinkedIn, describing the Time cover as a "mad dash" that finally let the company tell its own story.However, the company’s PR triumphs have not been without missteps. In early April, Anthropic inadvertently released part of Claude’s internal source code, though it assured that no customer data or credentials were exposed.Experts remain skeptical about the unverified claims surrounding Mythos. Dr. Heidy Khlaaf of the AI Now Institute warned that the vague marketing language could be an attempt to attract investment without substantive scrutiny.Cybersecurity specialist Jameison O’Reilly acknowledged the model’s novelty but downplayed Anthropic’s assertion of discovering "thousands of zero‑day vulnerabilities," noting that in a decade of offensive operations, zero‑days were rarely needed to achieve objectives.Anthropic also faces operational constraints. The firm has imposed usage caps on its popular Claude model and now requires customers to purchase additional compute capacity for third‑party tools, suggesting that infrastructure limitations may be a practical reason for withholding Mythos.As the race to dominate the emerging AI market intensifies, Anthropic’s strategy appears to blend genuine safety concerns with a calculated publicity push, positioning Mythos as a strategic signal that the company remains "open for business" while keeping the technology under tight control.

The evening’s television line‑up offers a mix of heartfelt competition, natural‑history wonder and high‑profile live events, giving viewers plenty of reasons to stay tuned.9 pm – Channel 4 – Your Song: Produced by the team behind The Piano, this new talent show invites ordinary Britons to perform the songs that hold personal meaning. Hosted and judged by Alison Hammond, Paloma Faith and Sam Ryder, the series launches from Liverpool with stories ranging from a teenager’s Bocelli tribute to a lift‑engineer’s pipe‑organ showcase, all racing toward a finale at the Hackney Empire.6 pm – BBC One – Secret Garden: David Attenborough returns to domestic natural history, turning his lens on a modest garden in Bristol. The programme explores the hidden dramas of urban foxes, blue tits and goldfinches, revealing how a tiny plot can host an entire ecosystem.7 pm – BBC Two – Olivier Awards 2026: The Royal Albert Hall hosts the 50th anniversary of Britain’s premier theatre awards, with Nick Mohammed as host. Into the Woods and Paddington: the Musical lead the nominations with eleven each, while Elaine Page receives a Special Award. Rumours swirl about a surprise performance from the awards’ most famous marmalade lover.7.40 pm – Channel 4 – The Great Celebrity Bake Off for Stand Up to Cancer: A comforting Sunday tradition returns, featuring celebrity bakers Ralf Little, Mutya Buena and Mark Wright. Their creations—savory pull‑apart rolls and vegan fruit tarts—aim to raise funds for cancer research.8 pm – BBC One – The Other Bennet Sister: This Pride & Prejudice spin‑off follows Ella Bruccoleri’s Mary as she navigates the attentions of Mr Hayward and Mr Ryder, with a storm‑laden hike adding further tension to the series’ impending conclusion.10.15 pm – ITV1 – Savage River: Australian crime drama starring Katherine Langford returns, following ex‑con Miki Anderson as she attempts a fresh start in her hometown, only to become the prime suspect when a new crime erupts.Film choice – Sky Cinema Premiere – Blue Moon (6.10 am & 7.10 pm): Richard Linklater’s melancholy drama, anchored by Ethan Hawke’s transformative performance, imagines a night in the life of struggling Broadway lyricist Lorenz Hart, whose post‑opening despair leads him to a cocktail of regret.4.15 pm – Channel 4 – Soul: Pixar’s latest metaphysical adventure, co‑directed by Pete Docter and Kemp Powers, follows deceased music teacher Joe (voiced by Jamie Foxx) as he navigates a limbo for unborn souls, meeting the reluctant 22 (Tina Fey) in a story that blends child‑friendly wonder with adult reflections on purpose.Live sport: Premier League action kicks off with Sunderland vs Tottenham at 1 pm on Sky Sports Main Event, followed by Chelsea vs Manchester City at 4.25 pm, offering football fans a double‑header of top‑flight drama.

When wages have been stagnant for almost two decades and a simple tube of toothpaste now costs nearly £7 at a major supermarket, the claim that “money can’t buy happiness” feels increasingly dismissive. The argument rests on a narrow view of what money can achieve. Spending cash solely on material goods yields only short‑lived pleasure. In contrast, the ability to afford time, experiences and mental‑health support expands one’s sense of freedom and purpose. Even basic needs such as leisure have become commodified; more disposable income simply translates into more opportunities to pursue what matters. As someone diagnosed with ADHD, I have learned—through personal trial rather than formal neuroscience—how to secure a steady supply of dopamine. The cheapest route is not a quick thrill, but activities that provide lasting satisfaction, such as novel experiences and moments of awe. One vivid example came during a winter trip to rural France, where two feet of snow turned the landscape into a scene straight out of Narnia. The awe‑inspiring view was a reminder that nature’s restorative power is often accessible only to those who can afford the travel, in my case a budget flight with Ryanair. Research supports the intuition that higher income correlates with greater happiness. A 2023 study by psychologists at Princeton and the University of Pennsylvania found that people with higher earnings report higher life satisfaction, though money cannot resolve non‑financial sources of unhappiness. Even the world’s richest are not immune to the paradox. Earlier this year, Elon Musk—on track to become the first trillionaire—tweeted that anyone who says “money can’t buy happiness” must be missing something. While Musk’s wealth may not guarantee personal joy, the same resources could provide a foundation for happiness for billions facing financial strain. Nevertheless, hoarding wealth like a dragon does not equate to fulfillment. The column suggests that redirecting a portion of vast fortunes toward travel, cultural enrichment, and shared experiences could transform isolated wealth into collective well‑being. In short, financial stability reduces stress and broadens horizons. It allows individuals to invest in the intangible assets—time, relationships, awe‑inducing experiences—that truly enrich life.

Oppdal, a mountain village in central Norway, hosted its first interspecies council on a snowy morning at the Bjerkeløkkja conference centre. Thirty‑eight local participants each represented a different species – from a northern bat to a birch tree – and voiced the needs of the natural world in a structured decision‑making process.The council draws on the legacy of the Council of All Beings, a practice created in the 1980s by environmentalists John Seed and Joanna Macy. Phoebe Tickell, a scientist and “moral imagination” activist mentored by Macy, adapted the ritual into a governance methodology that expands representation beyond humans.Facilitators first identified the multispecies stakeholders in the region, then briefed human representatives – chosen either randomly or for expertise – on the perspectives they would embody. The session concluded with a manifesto of principles for human governance and an impact‑evaluation plan to track participants’ connection to nature six months later.Oppdal’s mayor, Elisabeth Hals, noted that the village’s population swells from 5,000 to over 30,000 in winter as tourists flock to private cabins (hytter). The municipality plans to add 1,000 new apartments by 2035 to promote year‑round tourism, a move that has sparked debate over land use, farming, and conservation.During the council, a birch “worried there’s too much of me,” while a rockfoil flower urged humans to “slow down and listen to where nature can tolerate more activity.” The River Driva lamented being treated as a mere resource, and a fox enthusiastically pointed at a wader, highlighting the emotional range the exercise seeks to capture.Proponents argue that such empathy‑building exercises are crucial as wildlife populations have fallen by roughly 70 % over the past 50 years. Tickell contends that “imperfect representation beats exclusion” and envisions interspecies councils becoming as routine as environmental impact assessments.Across the UK, 13 councils have recognised river rights since 2023, and a coalition of artists, ecologists, lawyers and policymakers is exploring similar biodiversity governance around the North Sea. In London, multispecies assemblies have already informed stewardship of the River Roding and land‑use consultations.Oppdal’s experiment aims to create “institutional trace” – genuine decision‑making power backed by robust methodology and longitudinal research – rather than a tokenistic green‑washing exercise. If successful, the model could be replicated internationally, giving non‑human nature a formal seat at the policy table.