“No one would have believed in the last years of the nineteenth century that this world was being watched keenly and closely by intelligences greater than man’s and yet as mortal as his own; that as men busied themselves about their various concerns they were scrutinised and studied, perhaps almost as narrowly as a man with a microscope might scrutinise the transient creatures that swarm and multiply in a drop of water.” H.G. Wells, War of the Worlds (1898) Whenever

I had some holiday days to use up recently and wanted to plan a little trip to get out of London. Needing a visa to go to most European countries, I decided that somewhere within the UK would work best. Edinburgh stood out, a beautiful city, far away enough from London to make me feel like I’ve actually gone somewhere, while still being within the borders of the UK. When deciding how to get there, I was quite certain that

In between Christmas and New Year, when my thoughts turn to future holidays, I like to open a weather app and marvel at the fact that the temperature is warmer where I live in London than it is on my favourite surfing beach in Devon. It seems wrong that the West Country, imaginatively linked in my mind with sunshine and warmth, should be colder than grey, windy, rainy London — but it is; and not just in winter, but all

I am writing this in an airport lounge on my return from the second summit of the American Society for AI (ASFAI) that I have had the pleasure to attend: this one in Sonoma, California. The lounge experience on the return leg of an international journey always induces in me an odd frame of mind, unique to this environment. I feel an emotional release alongside a sense of tranquillity and reflection. Perhaps it’s a time when feelings that I’ve repressed

Everyone loves a surprise, right? Be that in the form of a rare win at the bookies, an unexpected Christmas present, a surprise party or even just a chance encounter with an old acquaintance. There are occasions, however, when surprises are bad. Do I want my car to break down? No. Do I want it to rain when I’ve left my umbrella at home? No. Do I want my forecasts to be wrong? No… As George Box once famously quipped,

Not that long ago, as I was doomscrolling through X (or Twitter as some still call it), I came across a post claiming that driving was ‘heavily subsidised’ to the tune of £1400–£3000 per driver per year. Wait? What? That’s huge! Can those numbers be correct? I decided to investigate… I started in the most obvious place — Google (other search providers are available). The brief summary at the top of the search results (thanks be to AI) said: “Yes,

Irish voters head for the polls today with housing the dominant issue. High prices are widely seen as a key factor driving disenchantment among young people. The festive season is beginning, so forgive my adding to that disenchantment with what I’m about to say. But decisions taken in foreign capitals and boardrooms may have far greater consequences for Ireland’s economic luck in the coming years than any domestic plebiscite. Why? Because Ireland’s low effective rate of corporate tax has made

What drives innovation? It’s almost a philosophical question with a variety of answers — far too many to dive into here. Some might say vision, experimentation, resilience, big companies with access to resources and talent, or even luck! I, for one, suggest productivity apps and ergonomic desk setups to help spark that innovative streak. However, to shed further light on this topic, I’ve chosen to take a look at one metric that could lead us towards a strictly financial value

Once upon a time there lived a poor widow and her son Jack. So begins the tale you might well have heard, about the peasant boy who turned thief and giant-murderer. Jack climbed a beanstalk into giant country and stole a sack of gold coins, a hen that laid golden eggs, and a magical harp. But while he and his now wealthy mother lived happily ever after, things were not so easily resolved at the top of the beanstalk... In

I have just returned from ten days in Gozo, an island off Malta, the supposed location of Calypso’s cave, in which Odysseus was imprisoned for seven long years on his journey home from Troy all that time ago. The island is small – you could drive the perimeter, if there were no traffic, in perhaps 45 minutes. There is no city, but a string of small towns and villages that have spread over time and now mostly run into one