• I traveled to Cortina d'Ampezzo, an Italian ski town that attracts wealthy vacationers.
• The town was dotted with high-end fashion and Michelin-rated restaurants.
• Beyond luxury, the town is home to some of Italy's best skiing.

Tucked away in Italy's Dolomites is a town with a massive reputation.

It's where George Clooney and Naomi Campbell have vacationed. It's where a James Bond movie was filmed. It's a town of brick-paved streets where fur coats, designer handbags, purebred dogs, and athletes can be spotted at every turn.

It's Cortina d'Ampezzo.

Over the past centuries, Cortina d'Ampezzo has become recognized as one of Europe's most expensive and exclusive ski towns. What started as a town enticing the British elite has become a destination for today's rich and famous.

While I'm far from famous, I spent a weekend vacationing and skiing in Cortina d'Ampezzo. There was plenty of luxury, but I also discovered a charming town filled with friendly locals and an undeniable emphasis on the outdoors.

Cortina d'Ampezzo's elite-filled history

Cortina d'Ampezzo has a lengthy history of appealing to the elite. In the late 19th and early 20th centuries, wealthy travelers from England, Germany, and Russia traveled by train to vacation there. Following WWI, it became a popular spot for rich Italians.

In the 1920s, Ernest Hemingway arrived to write one of his first published works, and the town gained even more international notoriety after hosting the 1956 Winter Olympics, the first televised to an international audience. Following the Olympics, the region boomed.

Actors like Sophia Loren, Brigitte Bardot, and Audrey Hepburn vacationed in Cortina d'Ampezzo, and two presidential suites at the Cristallo Palace Hotel were named after its well-known visitors, Frank Sinatra and Peter Sellers. The town's fame has earned it the nickname "salotto dei famosi," or "the celebrities' living room."

Cortina d'Ampezzo also became a popular movie location. Scenes from the 1963 film "The Pink Panther" and the 1981 James Bond movie "For Your Eyes Only" were shot in the region, and most recently, Cortina d'Ampezzo was the backdrop for "House of Gucci," the film staring Lady Gaga and Adam Driver.

It takes a few moments in Cortina d'Ampezzo to recognize why the destination appeals to both vacationers and filmmakers. Practically every place in town has views of jagged mountains, charming chalets, and ornate churches.

Giulia Dal Pont remembers growing up in Cortina d'Ampezzo in the 1990s and not fully understanding the town's reputation.

"All the kids learned to ski, and every year, the skiing World Cup takes place," she told me. "That's normal."

"They come to film movies. Of course, they come," she said. "Growing up, I ran into celebrities downtown. This was my normality."

But to most, Cortina d'Ampezzo's wealthy reputation stands out. The town has around 6,000 residents and the population balloons to 50,000 at peak season.

Five-star hotels, Michelin restaurants, and designer ski clothes

As I planned my trip, I eyed luxury resorts. Five-star hotels like Rosapetra Spa Resort or the Grand Hotel Savoia Cortina d'Ampezzo usher in prices of $1,000-plus a night during peak season. Other luxury hotels are undergoing renovations ahead of the 2026 Olympics.

Even lower-rated hotels had elements of luxury in Cortina d'Ampezzo.

I spent two nights at Camina Spa Resort, where my $400-a-night room in the four-star hotel had amenities like ski shuttles and breakfast, as well as a spa with saunas, a steam room, and unfamiliar features like an "emotional shower," which I later discovered was an aromatherapy misting.

Walking through Cortina d'Ampezzo's expansive downtown area was exactly as I imagined.

Women in fur coats and hats walked along cobblestone streets. Tourists wearing $2,000 Goldbergh ski suits popped in and out of high-end stores like Dior and Louis Vuitton. There wasn't a souvenir shop in sight; instead, a cozy bookstore was one of the few places I spotted postcards.

In the heart of downtown, an Audi sits in a glass box. Why? I'm still not sure.

The dining is also on par with high-end fashion and expensive hotels. Cortina d'Ampezzo is home to two Michelin-starred restaurants, SanBrite and Tivoli. Six other Michelin-recognized restaurants are in town. Regardless of a restaurant's status, it seemed hard to find a bad meal.

Dal Pont said tourists arrive in Cortina d'Ampezzo searching for excellence. "What has been there and has not changed are people's expectations of Cortina," Dal Pont said. "Everything is expected to be nice and borderline perfect."

That's what I experienced. Meals — whether on the mountain or in town — were delicious. Stores were pristine, with hangers and clothes positioned perfectly on racks. Art galleries filled storefronts showcasing expensive work.

All of this means that vacationing in Cortina d'Ampezzo can be pricy. It's Italy's most expensive ski town, and my weekend cost just over $2,700.

Skiing is the town's main draw

Not everyone arrives in Cortina d'Ampezzo to see and be seen. The town's ski areas are part of the Dolomiti Superski, the largest ski network in the world, with 775 miles of slopes across 12 resorts.

Cortina d'Ampezzo's mountains are world famous. Ski events are hosted each year. For instance, the World Cup Alpine Skiing took place during my visit, and for a few days, the town was flocked with professional athletes competing in downhill speed racing.

For amateur skiers and snowboarders, the slopes were still appealing, mainly thanks to the striking views of the nearby mountains. I'm lucky to live in one of the world's best ski destinations, but the Dolomites had landscapes that couldn't compete with Colorado's Rockies.

If you are in Cortina d'Ampezzo for luxury, the nods continue on the mountain. Ski lifts are plastered with red Prada advertisements, and a Gucci-themed après spot drew crowds.

Regardless of your status, Cortina d'Ampezzo has its appeals

Vacationing in Cortina d'Ampezzo felt similar to vacationing in Colorado's wealthy Aspen ski town. Prices often shocked me, and I felt a bit out of place in my thrifted ski pants.

Even if I wasn't buying a new pair of Golden Goose sneakers or dining at Michelin-starred restaurants, Cortina d'Ampezzo had its charm. The views were breathtaking, and the locals I met were warm and inviting.

There were times during my trip that I completely forgot I was in a ritzy ski town. Instead, I was enjoying snowy slopes with fellow skiers and snowboarders and sipping spritzes with a crowd of strangers.

That's what Dal Pont said she hopes others take away from Cortina d'Ampezzo.

"I would like people to come away saying the mountains were amazing and the center of the town had a soul," she said. "A special something."

• Karina Nguyen left engineering for research after watching Claude get better at coding in a previous role at Anthropic.
• In a recent podcast interview, she said soft skills will remain important even as work changes.
• Nguyen, now at OpenAI, said creativity and emotional intelligence remain some of the hardest things to teach AI.

In a world where certain jobs could one day be rendered obsolete by AI, OpenAI researcher Karina Nguyen said she expects soft skills to endure as highly prized.

She also expects that to be the case in the realm of AI research.

"I just think people in AI field are like — I wish they were a little bit more creative and connecting the dots across different fields," Nguyen said on a recent episode of "Lenny's Podcast."

Nguyen, who previously worked at Anthropic, said that above all else, she expects AI to automate "redundant tasks for people." She added that the models she works with can struggle to grasp skills that often come so naturally to human beings.

"I think it's the dream of any AI research is to automate AI research," Nguyen said. "It's kind of scary, I'd say, which makes me think that people management will stay, you know? It's one of the hardest things to — emotional intelligence, with the models, creativity in itself is one of the hardest things."

At OpenAI, Nguyen said her role is heavy on "management and mentorship," despite originally being passionate about engineering. She said the shift came about during her tenure at Anthropic — after observing Claude's rapidly advancing capabilities, Nguyen came to a realization about her career.

"When I first came to Anthropic, I was like, 'Oh no, I really love front-end engineering,'" Nguyen said. "And then the reason why I switched to research is because I realized, at that time, it's like, 'Oh my god, Claude is getting better at front-end. Claude is getting better at coding.'"

Nguyen and OpenAI did not immediately respond to a request for comment by Business Insider prior to publication.

"It was kind of this meta realization where it's like, 'Oh my god, the world is actually changing,'" she added.

Nguyen said that models are only improving, becoming increasingly cost-efficient as "small models" prove themselves "smarter than large models." As the costs associated with artificial intelligence drop, Nguyen expects the technology to proliferate even further, unlocking work that she considers to have been previously "bottlenecked by intelligence."

"I'm thinking about healthcare, right?" Nguyen said. "Instead of going to a doctor, I can ask ChatGPT or give ChatGPT a list of symptoms and ask me, 'Would I have a cold, flu, something else?'"

Nguyen said she's been spending "a lot" of time thinking about what her future might look like in a working landscape altered by AI. She said that if the models she's helped build eventually automate her current job, she may spend her time writing "short stories, sci-fi stories, novels," or working as a museum conservator.

"I feel like I have a lot of job options," Nguyen said. "I would love to be a writer, I think. I think that would be super cool."

• Alec and Hilaria Baldwin have been married since 2012 and share seven kids.
• The couple's eldest child was born in 2013, and their youngest was born in 2022.
• The family of nine will star in the new TLC reality TV series "The Baldwins."

Alec and Hilaria Baldwin are pulling the curtain back on their bustling family life.

The "30 Rock" star, the yoga instructor, and their seven kids are taking the spotlight in the new TLC reality TV series "The Baldwins."

"We're inviting you into our home to experience the ups and downs, the good, the bad, the wild, and the crazy," Alec said in an Instagram video announcing the show in June.

The reality series promises to give an intimate look at the life of a couple who's been the subject of public interest and some controversies over the years.

The trailer for "The Baldwins" revealed that the show will address the difficulties of parenting in the aftermath of the 2021 accidental shooting that occurred on the set of Alec's movie "Rust," which killed cinematographer Halyna Hutchins. The movie's armorer, Hannah Gutierrez-Reed, was found guilty of involuntary manslaughter, and Baldwin was acquitted of the same charge after pleading not guilty.

"Honestly, from the bottom of my soul, I don't know where I'd be if I didn't have you and these kids," Alec tells Hilaria at one point in the trailer.

Here's everything you need to know about the couple's kids before the series premiere of "The Baldwins."

Alec and Hilaria Baldwin's first child together, Carmen, was born on August 23, 2013

Alec and Hilaria met at a restaurant in New York City in 2011 and married in 2012. The following year, Hilaria gave birth to their first child together, Carmen Gabriela.

It wasn't the first child for Alec, who was previously married to the actor Kim Basinger. The pair share a daughter named Ireland Baldwin, who was born in 1995.

They welcomed four sons between 2015 and 2020: Rafael, Leonardo, Romeo, and Eduardo

Alec and Hilaria's first son, Rafael Thomas, was born on June 17, 2015. Hilaria shared the news with fans on Instagram at the time.

"We are happy to announce the birth of Rafael Thomas Baldwin 💙," Hilaria captioned a photo of her holding hands with the baby.

Leonardo Ángel Charles followed on September 12, 2016.

"We are so pleased to introduce you to our new baby, Leonardo Ángel Charles Baldwin. It was such a special day bringing him into this world 💙," Hilaria shared on Instagram that year.

Hilaria gave birth to the couple's fourth child, Romeo Alejandro David, on May 17, 2018. The wellness enthusiast shared a photo of her and Alec with the newborn on Instagram, writing: "He's here! He's perfect! 8lbs 2oz 💛 #wegotthis2018."

Alec and Hilaria's fifth child, a son named Eduardo "Edu" Pao Lucas, was born on September 8, 2020. "We had a baby last night. He is perfect and we couldn't be happier 🌟," Hilaria wrote in part on Instagram.

Alec also shared the same photo of him and Hilaria with their newborn baby on his Instagram account. "I love you, @hilariabaldwin," he wrote in part. "My karma is your karma. Your karma is mine."

Their sixth child, daughter María Lucía, was born via a surrogate on February 25, 2021

Alec and Hilaria welcomed María Lucía Victoria, nicknamed Marilu, several months after the birth of Edu.

A few days after her birth, Hilaria shared a photo of the newborn on Instagram with the caption: "We are so in love with our daughter, Lucia. Just like your brothers and sisters, you are a dream come true."

Hilaria, who previously opened up about miscarrying at four months pregnant in 2019, refers to Edu and Marilu as her "two rainbow babies."

"We are living each day, bonding, and grateful for all of the very special angels who helped bring Lucía into the world," Hilaria wrote in part in another Instagram post after Marilu's birth. "María Lucía Victoria and Eduardo Pau Lucas: our babies who bring light into our lives—almost like twins, we love you so much."

Their youngest child, daughter Ilaria, was born six months later

Ilaria Catalina Irena was born on September 22, 2022.

Hilaria referred to the newborn as their "tiny dream come true," in an Instagram post.

"How grateful we feel to welcome our newest little daughter into this world," the couple told People magazine that year in a statement. "Just as magical and filled with love as every other little person we have been blessed with."

"The Baldwins" will feature all seven children and give a more personal look at Alec and Hilaria's parenting styles.

Alec said he and his wife decided to participate in a reality show "in place of doing a movie or a play."

"Now I think to myself, 'Am I going to be away from my kids five nights out of the week until 11 o'clock at night?'" Alec told People magazine earlier this month of the decision to star in a reality TV show with his clan. "For me, work-related things really aren't that critical anymore. I thought, 'I get to spend time with my family.'"

"The Baldwins" premieres on TLC on Sunday at 10 p.m. ET.

• Nike will partner with Kim Kardashian's Skims to launch NikeSkims womenswear brand.
• The collaboration aims to enhance Nike's appeal to female athletes and consumers.
• Like the Jordan brand, NikeSkims is intended to be a long-term partnership.

Nike is extending its brand lineup through a rare partnership with Kim Kardashian's Skims. It's a bet that her star power can have a similar impact as Michael Jordan has on the sportswear giant — for women.

The two companies announced NikeSkims on Tuesday, a line of training apparel, footwear and accessories for women. While Nike regularly partners with athletes and celebrities for limited-edition sportswear, this seems a step up from that typical collaboration.

It's the first time Nike has partnered with an existing external company to create a brand. It's a "win-win" for both companies, Rachel Wolff, retail analyst at Business Insider's sister company EMARKETER, said.

As Nike pushes ahead with its play for appealing to all genders by upping its bets in female athletes, a deal with a womenswear superpower like Skims will fuel its "gender offense," as CEO Elliott Hill called it during a recent earnings call. The long-term deal, which neither company revealed the financial details of, marks the beginning of a womenswear-specific brand intended to exist alongside Jordan, Nike, and Converse.

It does, however, call to mind Nike's biggest partnership yet — with Michael Jordan. In 1984, the popular basketball player inked a deal with Nike for $500,000 a year, plus royalties, Forbes reported. They introduced the world to Air Jordans the following year with the release of the Air Jordan 1 sneaker.

As the sneakers grew in popularity, it extended beyond basketball shoes to include streetwear. Today, Jordan himself has a $3.5 billion net worth, and Nike paid him some $260 million before tax over its past fiscal year, per Forbes.

Forty years later, the Jordan brand is still a revenue driver for the company. It brought in approximately $6.9 billion in wholesale equivalent revenue for fiscal 2024 — about 17% of Nike's total wholesale equivalent sales.

Like it used Jordan's massive popularity decades ago, Kardashian's global influence and more than 350 million Instagram followers will be a valuable boost in visibility for Nike. She cofounded Skims in 2019 as a shapewear brand before expanding into loungewear, and it has boomed in size, reaching a $4 billion valuation in 2023.

"Nike has the opportunity to capitalize on Skims' intense popularity among women consumers, who are an important target audience for the athletic brand, while Skims gets access to a much larger group of consumers as well as Nike's manufacturing capabilities," Wolff said.

Nike representatives directed BI to a press release in response to a request for comment. Skims did not immediately respond.

The two brands have been working on NikeSkims since 2023, the New York Times reported. Skims CEO Jens Grede drew parallels between Skims and Nike in October 2024, but experts seemed hesitant to agree at the time.

While Nike has become a brand that can sell "a lot of things to a lot of people," as BMO analyst Simeon Siegel put it, others have said Skims' proximity to Kardashian could be a problem.

"Skims is not likely to be a 'for everyone' brand because there are going to be people who don't want the association with Kim Kardashian," Matthew Quint, director of the Center on Global Brand Leadership at Columbia Business School, said in October.

However, it's hard not to think of Kardashian "as the Michael Jordan of influencers," Grede told NYT. Her net worth, as estimated by Forbes before the deal, is $1.7 billion.

NikeSkims is expected to launch this spring with a global expansion planned for 2026. Skims' power to attract consumers was demonstrated in its collaboration with outerwear brand The North Face, which sold out within hours of launching on December 10, Women's Wear Daily reported.

• Grant Sabatier believes there's never been a better time to be an entrepreneur.
• Building a business is less risky now with lower barriers and democratized knowledge.
• He recommends starting with building skills around AI.

If you haven't started a side business or built a secondary income stream, Grant Sabatier wants you to reconsider.

"We all know that no jobs are secure," the investor, author, and creator of Millennial Money told Business Insider. Why not put your future in your own hands?

Plus, it's an excellent time to get into the business of business.

"There's never been a better time to be an entrepreneur," Sabatier declares in his latest book "Inner Entrepreneur," which he describes as a blueprint he's designed, having launched seven businesses, acquired three, and sold one.

BI spoke to the entrepreneur, whose latest venture is an independent bookstore he opened in the Clintonville neighborhood of Columbus, about why the time is ripe for entrepreneurship and what businesses he would build if he had to start from scratch.

The barriers to entry have never been lower

It's a lot easier and cheaper to start a business in 2025 than ever.

"Before, you had to really stop and figure out everything and maybe apprentice or put down a lot of money and take a big risk," said Sabatier. "But now there are just so many blueprints available and so many ways to learn. Really successful entrepreneurs are sharing a lot more than they ever have, so as knowledge has been more democratized the barrier is just a lot lower. You can evaluate a business idea with a lot more information than you ever could have before."

In fact, one of the biggest misconceptions about entrepreneurship is that it's "super risky," he said. "I argue that having a full-time job, in many cases, is often riskier than having a business that you built yourself. Because, at least with your own business, you can control more of the variables than if you're working for someone else."

It's also cheaper to start and scale a business than it ever has been. If you're starting with consulting, which is how Sabatier began his entrepreneurial journey, "you really don't need much money at all," he said. "You might need a website, which you can now put up using AI for like $15, and you can set up social media profiles for free."

What he would do if he had to start from scratch in 2025: Lean into AI

Until Sabatier opened Clintonville Books, which he considers "more as an investment in my neighborhood and in my happiness than as a capital investment," he had exclusively built and scaled online businesses.

If he lost everything and had to start over in 2025, "I would definitely learn how to build different AI agents and use them to code software products and different AI tools," he said — and he predicts it would be easier to get started than it was in 2010 when he got laid off from his 9-to-5 and tried entrepreneurship out of necessity.

"I had to learn how to build websites from scratch. You can now use AI to learn how to build websites, and within a few hours, you can build a simple platform and then build a tool that ideally has a subscription component to it."

If launching an AI company feels daunting, a more manageable first step is to learn about artificial intelligence, how it works, and how you can leverage it.

"Skills are future currency. Skills are ultimately what allow you to adapt and build resilience, and, as we know, the world's just changing faster than ever," he said, emphasizing that if he were to add one skill to his repertoire today, it would be AI. "Do your best to stay up to date on it. It's impossible to keep track of everything, so try to pick a lane and spend a couple of hours a week experimenting with the tools just so you can have a conversation and you can stay relevant."

It'll also be helpful in a corporate setting if you're job hunting.

"More recruiters and companies are going to be adding those questions about AI fluency and experience to their interviews and screenings," he said. "The more you know about it and the more well-versed you are, the more attractive of a full-time job candidate you are, so it's just as useful in your full-time job hunting as it is pursuing entrepreneurship."

• Tori Dunlap is a multimillionaire while her partner made $60,000 in 2024.
• The couple, who talked about money on their first date, prioritize transparency and communication.
• They discussed prenups and splitting expenses equitably, avoiding traditional gender roles.

This as-told-to essay is based on conversations with Tori Dunlap, a 30-year-old Seattle-based financial educator, and her partner. They both asked that his identity be kept concealed for privacy reasons.

Dunlap is the founder of Her First 100K, a financial education company geared toward Gen Z and millennial women. She is also a multimillionaire, New York Times best-selling author, and podcast host.

Her partner has a graduate degree in athletics and works multiple jobs within the athletics and education space. He supplements his income with side gigs such as dog-sitting and private training and made around $60,000 in 2024.

The couple has been together for over two and a half years. They spoke with Business Insider to share how they manage and discuss money in their relationship. The following has been edited for length and clarity.

Dunlap: We started talking about money on our first date. By then, he knew feminism was a huge part of my work and values.

When the bill came, I could tell there was some sort of internal conflict. He said, "I would really like to pay, but I don't want to offend you. Can I pay?"

Partner: I wasn't sure what the expectation was in terms of who pays or splitting the bill, so that was my way of saying that I'd like to pay for the bill. The meal was something like $100, which wasn't as much to Tori, but was quite a bit for me at the time.

Dunlap: It was really sweet. For me, that was an immediate green flag that ended up being a good sign for our financial conversations and the rest of our relationship. It's sometimes hard to have these conversations, but they prevent you from feeling resentment and souring your relationship, so I think they're 100% necessary.

We know almost all of each other's finances. I know how much he has in his Roth IRA, he knows how much I have in my brokerage account. We've known each other's salaries since very early on.

And because we know how much each other makes, I'm not going to put him in a position where he feels like he has to spend way more money than I know he's willing to spend just to please me.

My success doesn't intimidate him

Partner: When we met, she and I were in such different positions in terms of finances and careers. It felt like I had two options: I could be intimidated and feel threatened by her, or I could see it as her life and what she's built.

When looking at somebody like Tori, who's incredibly successful, it could be easy to worry about how she might view me. I remember thinking about how we don't roll in the same circles and live in very different worlds.

Dunlap: I remember around three months into our relationship, I'd bought us lunch at a teriyaki restaurant. He was very vulnerable and sweet and said to me, "I know I shouldn't feel this way, but I feel sometimes that I'm not doing enough or providing enough as a man. I want this to be an equal relationship, and I'm worried sometimes it doesn't feel that way for you."

Partner: But she was incredibly understanding and supportive, and so even from an early stage, I realized that I could come to her, and she would be willing to listen.

Dunlap: I thought it was so brave of him to be so vulnerable in this conversation. I've realized how much patriarchy and gender roles seep in — the mindset that men are supposed to be providers, make more money, take their girlfriends out on dates all the time, and pay for everything.

I don't feel that way, especially since I make more.

We split expenses based on equity, not equality

Dunlap: I told him that, regarding money, I'm not looking for equality; I'm looking for equity. I don't need him to split things 50-50 with me because that's not fair or equitable.

Partner: In my previous relationships, it was mostly 50-50; if somebody covered drinks, the other person got the meals. For Tori and me, that doesn't make any sense. We typically try to split about 30-70, which feels pretty fair.

Dunlap: I also have a more expensive lifestyle than he does. If I'm interested in going out to dinner someplace that I know is out of his budget, I'll pay for it because I was the one who wanted to go, and it feels unfair for me to make that decision but still ask him to pay for his meal.

As for housing, I rent a three-bedroom, two-bath townhouse for $3,250 a month. I've lived alone since 2018 and, frankly, love it.

Partner: I live with three of my friends and pay $975 a month. Since Tori and I don't live together, we don't have to split those costs, but we've had conversations about what it would look like.

Dunlap: If we did move in together and the rent was $3,000, I wouldn't ask him to pay $1,500 because that is not commensurate with how much we each make.

We also set expectations ahead of time. We went to Europe the past two summers, and before we left, we had a conversation about who was covering which costs. I covered the flight there and most of the accommodations, much of it using points, and he covered the shorter flights between locations while on the trip.

It's not about how much you make — it's what you do with it

Dunlap: One of my favorite things in the world is that I outearn almost any man I talk to. I don't need a man to spend his money on me to remind me that I'm worth it, but I do need him to be there when my parents get sick someday, and I'm not doing well, and I'm going to be there for him.

My partner shows me he loves me in a million different ways, some of which involve money and most of which don't.

One of the things that I love about him is that even though he doesn't make a ton of money, he maxes out his Roth IRA every year. I was honestly kind of shocked that he was managing to do that.

It's not how much money you make, it's about what you do with it.

Partner: My parents didn't make a whole lot growing up, and they talked to my sister and me about money from a pretty early age.

When I was in middle school, if we did all of our chores for the week, we got $6 to spend, $3 to save, and $1 to share. I've always been a saver. Even from an early age, I usually took my "spend" money and put it into my savings.

When I was in high school and college, my parents helped me put some money away to get the ball rolling, and they always told me to max out my Roth IRA. I also watched a lot of YouTube videos from financial channels to understand more.

Dunlap: It's all about habits and behavior. I truly think, especially in a relationship, money is not everything, but how somebody uses money is a good sign of how responsible they are.

Learning to move past a scarcity mindset is important

Partner: I had a scarcity mindset for quite a few years. Back in 2022, I had four different jobs, coached in multiple organizations, and wasn't paid very well. I budgeted a lot, down to the cent. I was very cognizant of how much I made and where the money was sitting.

Dunlap: It was really difficult for him to believe he was worth spending his own money on, or that eating at a slightly nicer place wasn't a waste of money, or that he could invest in enjoying his hobbies even if he wasn't making money from them.

Partner: I think the biggest thing I've learned from Tori is that it's OK to spend money on yourself and splurge from time to time.

Dunlap: I celebrated my past two birthdays while we were in Europe, and both times, we went to Michelin-star restaurants that he paid for as a birthday gift.

Prenups and thinking about the future

Dunlap: I think by the third month of dating, I brought up the word "prenup."

Partner: I was surprised and taken aback at first. None of my friends and their partners are in a situation like ours, so that's never been a thing. My parents didn't have a prenup, and none of my family members have prenups.

Dunlap: I think hearing the word prenup has a lot of emotional weight for most people. But every single person who gets married has a "prenup" — it's just usually already decided by the state. At least we can decide if the government-assigned "prenup" is actually what we want.

And I always say that going through the prenup process largely prevents you from ever having to use it because you're being so transparent about money and what you each care about.

Partner: The more we talked and the more I thought about it, it didn't really phase me. I completely understand that she's worked really hard to get to where she is, and she wants to make sure that she protects herself.

Dunlap: I strongly believe each person in a relationship should have some of their own money and then a joint bank account, so we wouldn't ever completely combine our finances.

Ultimately, who you choose as a partner is a financial decision that will impact you for the rest of your life.

I wouldn't go into business with somebody without understanding how they managed money or what their goals were. It's the same thing with partners, but love is involved, so people think it's not a business decision. But it actually is.

If you and your partner have a unique way of managing money and would like to share your story, email Jane Zhang at [email protected].

• I spent a year teaching English in Japan. The experience was thrilling and a total culture shock.
• Living in Japan as an American is a 24-hour immersive learning experience.
• I returned to the US for my career, but feel like life in Japan is probably better.

Having grown up and lived in the US my entire life, my first night in Tokyo as a fresh college graduate was a full-on culture shock.

I couldn't read the restaurant menu, so I had to point at pictures and hope for the best.

I walked past crowded shops and nightclubs where employees tried to entice people to come in. I couldn't understand what they were saying, but I smiled, nodded, and drifted along in a daze.

I felt like the only American for thousands of miles. One gangly blond guy from Iowa plunked down in the middle of the world's most populous city. It wasn't lonely or scary — it was thrilling.

I moved to Japan after college in 2001

My first job out of college was teaching English in Japan as part of the Japan Exchange and Teaching (JET) Program.

I'd made friends from Japan while volunteering as an English conversation partner for English language learners at my college. I became fascinated with Japanese history and culture.

So, when I learned that the JET Program offered a steady paycheck and helped to find an apartment, it was a no-brainer.

I felt like part of a community in Japan

My everyday work life was in a quiet suburb of Tokyo called Hidaka. I made a comfortable, mostly tax-free, salary of about $2,500 a month (300,000 yen), teaching English at local middle and elementary schools and working with Japanese teachers and students.

Though I couldn't speak the language very well, I quickly made friends with my Japanese colleagues — the teachers would host monthly enkai ("drinking parties") with dinner, beers, and karaoke.

People at the grocery stores and restaurants were exceptionally kind and patient with me, and a random middle-aged mom in the neighborhood even pulled over in her car and gave me a ride to school a few times. I felt like I was connected to a larger community.

I learned how to conduct myself appropriately. Whether it's taking off your shoes upon entering the house, knowing how to use chopsticks, or communicating in a softer, more indirect, and polite style in the workplace, living in Japan as an American is a 24-hour immersive learning experience.

My college connections hooked me up in Tokyo

Some of my fondest memories were outside of Hidaka, in Tokyo.

One of my friends from Japan, who I met in college, introduced me to his circle of college peers in the city.

Through those connections, I was able to experience a whole other side of Japanese culture.

I went to a weekend retreat at a hot springs spa resort. And I ate sushi at a tiny hole-in-the-wall restaurant near Tokyo's largest fish market, where the tuna get dragged in fresh off the boat every morning.

Why I moved back to the US

After a year in Japan, I moved back to the US for a job opportunity to become a speechwriter for the Governor of Iowa.

While teaching English in Japan was fun and liberating, it didn't feel like the best long-term career choice for me.

I could have easily stayed in Japan and kept teaching English for another year, or two, or three.

In the end, though, I felt I'd have better career opportunities in my own native country and native language.

After working in politics, I've gone on to have a varied career, working in marketing, banking, technology, and for most of the past 15 years I've supported my family as a full-time freelance writer. I'm grateful for all of it and have probably made a lot more money in America than I would have as an American expat in Japan, with more career flexibility and autonomy.

However, all these years later, I still have fond feelings for Japan and keep in touch with my college friends there. My family and I visit them, and they come and visit us. My children were the ring bearers for one of my friends' wedding ceremonies.

Compared to Japan, America's individualist culture sometimes feels too stressful, selfish, and competitive. I'm grateful for my life here in the US, but often feel that life in Japan is probably better — a little more peaceful, generous, and gentle.

• The late investor Charlie Munger gave Costco some advice while a member of its board for over 25 years.
• Costco chairman Hamilton James recently said Munger advised to "stick to our knitting."
• Munger said the warehouse store chain should keep doing "what we've always been doing."

How does a warehouse club giant like Costco sustain business success? The late investor Charlie Munger had some simple advice: stick to your "knitting."

Costco chairman Hamilton "Tony" James, who has sat on the company's board since 1988, talked about Munger's advice for the company in an interview with Chief Executive magazine published Thursday.

Munger was a prominent investor, business partner of Warren Buffett, and vice chairman of Berkshire Hathaway from 1978 until his death in 2023. He was on Costco's board for more than a quarter of a century.

"For a giant company like Costco with huge pressures, understanding what's going on can be complex and confusing, but not for Charlie, who had an unerring compass to see through it all to stay on the right path," James said. "That made him an extremely valuable board member."

Munger's advice to Costco as a board member was to "stick to our knitting, our values and our principles," James said.

"Charlie understood we didn't have to do anything different than that," James added. "His voice was very strong and clear on the matter. He'd remind us, 'The right thing for the long term is what we've always been doing, so let's not get confused.'"

As for Munger's interactions with Costco's board and leadership, and vice versa, James said they never put him on a pedestal.

They would debate and always felt free to disagree or even ignore Munger's advice — something James said that "you did that at your peril."

A self-proclaimed "total addict" of the store, Munger once said he loves "everything about Costco."

"I'm never going to sell a share," he added at the time.

Munger was one of Costco's largest individual shareholders. In November 2022, he owned more than 187,000 shares in Costco.

The company has in many ways followed Munger's advice in doing what it's always done.

Perhaps the most famous example: The company has charged $1.50 for its food court hot dog and soda combo since 1985.

When Costco's former CEO, Craig Jelinek, once approached Sinegal, who was then still CEO, about raising the price, Sinegal told him, "If you raise the [price of the] effing hot dog, I will kill you. Figure it out."

Also in the interview, James talked about Costco's approach to generating business from wealthier members.

"Affluent people love a good deal," he said.

"Since the beginning, we've always known we could move anything in volume if the quality was good and the price was great — Rolex watches, Dom Perignon, 10-karat diamonds," he told Chief Executive magazine. "A Porsche dealer in Seattle put their cars on the floor of a Costco, and they sold out in a week."

• I'm hosting a dinner party and thrifted vintage china to add a stylish touch to the event.
• I paid $65 at a secondhand store for 11 dinner plates, 12 salad plates, teacups, and more.
• I later figured out the pieces were from a discontinued collection and valued at nearly $1,000.

I almost gave up on celebrating my birthday this year.

Then, while doom-scrolling through Instagram, I saw a video from Toronto-based influencer Isabelle Heikens, who hosts a multi-course dinner at her home each month. Heikens — who has more than 300,000 followers — prepped for her "winter citrus-themed" dinner party by making basil-infused olive oil, gutting grapefruits, whisking eggs, and setting her table with elegant plates.

In a separate video, her guests enjoy cocktails while Heikens puts the final touches on the meal. They all sit around the table, devouring the food, as Heikens beams with pride.

I was sold. For my birthday in March, I've decided to host a three-course dinner at home, inviting my closest friends. I'll be the chef, and my husband will be the sous chef.

To set the mood, I needed place settings — but I was on a budget. I ended up thrifting a 61-piece set that I later figured out was worth close to $1,000. Here's how it happened.

I was on the hunt for the perfect dinnerware

Fine china is a must to make my vision come true.

However, with half a dozen guests to feed, I couldn't splurge on high-end dinnerware. I decided to visit Thrift Giant, a secondhand store in the Dallas-Fort Worth area, hoping to find affordable pieces that would work beautifully together.

Thrift Giant was overflowing with pre-loved clothing, furniture, and electronics. Dishware made up the smallest section of the store, so I wasn't expecting much. To my surprise, I hit the jackpot.

On a dusty bottom shelf, I found two bundles with 61 pieces of porcelain bone china, each stamped with "Oxford" on the bottom. Each bundle was $29.92.

The collection included 11 dinner plates, 12 salad plates, 12 bread and butter plates, 12 teacups with saucers, and a vegetable bowl with an attached underplate. The total cost at checkout was just $64.78 after tax.

I later learned that Oxford was a division of the Lenox Corporation, which produced fine china from the late 1920s to the early 1990s.

I found pieces with my exact pattern, called Spring, on Replacements, Ltd., a North Carolina-based online marketplace for fine china, crystal, silverware, and collectibles, both still in production and retired.

On Replacements, each dinner plate was $24, salad plates $14, bread and butter plates $10, teacups with saucers $10, the vegetable bowl $80, and the gravy boat with an underplate $190. Overall, my thrifted set seemed to be valued at about $950.

What's more, the items I saw on Replacements were discounted by 25% due to imperfections — so it appears the set may actually be worth even more.

I'm not the only millennial into thrifting and dinner parties

Let my millennial friends and I be the first to tell you: The dinner party is making a comeback — and I'm not talking about potlucks.

Instagram and TikTok are filled with pictures and videos of everyday people and content creators — including Heikens and another influencer, Olivia McDowell, who has nearly 200,000 followers —sharing their chic culinary soirées and offering tips on hosting a flawless event.

The interest in entertaining has, in turn, revived interest in fine china, which was once reserved for the upper class but is now more accessible thanks to thrift stores, estate sales, and vintage shops. It coincides with a broader cultural shift toward nostalgia and secondhand shopping as Gen Z and millennials move away from fast fashion and overconsumption in favor of a more sustainable, timeless style.

May Eason, founder of the Facebook group Beautiful Table Settings, with over 263,000 followers, told food and drink publication Eater in 2022 that the affection for vintage china is also simply about the love of sharing beautiful things.

"You're doing this for your family and your friends, so you want to make your table presentable and pretty," Eason said. "And it's fun to play with it. I think younger people are finally realizing you can change it up."

I completely agree.

I want the evening to be exquisite

While I've hosted dinners before, I've never put together an evening as curated as the ones Heikens throws.

I've spent hours researching ideas on social media, screenshotting everything that catches my eye — from overflowing tablescapes filled with serving platters and colorful drinks to the perfect playlist.

My husband and I only have a couple of chairs, so I'll rent extras. I'll visit Home Goods or Anthropologie to find tablecloths and napkins.

To further enhance the evening's vibe, I also purchased stylish drinking glasses from another thrift shop.

I found Poco Grande glasses, martini glasses, grappa glasses, coupe glasses, café au lait glasses, milkshake glasses, and more, all priced between $0.95 and $2.99. I also scored a cake stand, serving platters, and bowls — each under $10. I walked away with a total of 30 pieces for just $100.

Altogether, including the china set, I've spent only $168 on dinnerware for my party, far less than I expected. That leaves plenty of room in my budget of under $800 for groceries and decorations — and maybe a new outfit, too.

• Tim Clark helped set up Emirates in 1985 and has been its president since 2003.
• The airline flies from Dubai to 12 US airports as well as dozens of cities globally.
• Clark says if a business "recognizes and respects" its workers, "they look after you" in return.

Dubai's population has grown about 10-fold since Emirates was founded 40 years ago. Among the airline's founding team was Tim Clark, who has been its president for more than two decades.

At the beginning, the nascent carrier wasn't "taken very seriously," he told Business Insider in a wide-ranging interview last month.

That began to change once competitors and aircraft manufacturers realized Dubai was ideally positioned roughly halfway between Europe and the Middle East — and that Emirates was determined to shake up long-haul aviation.

"We were considered to be lunatics, but we did manage to persuade the powers that be in both Airbus and Boeing that we were deadly serious," Clark says.

As well as aircraft that could fly non-stop from Dubai to the likes of Los Angeles, Sydney and Auckland, he wanted cabins that were closer to private jets.

That led to innovations such as first-class suites with sliding doors in the late 1990s that are now "de rigueur everywhere. And I wish I had a patent on those, but we never did. And now they're in business class as well. So you see our footprints everywhere."

The rise of Emirates as a global aviation force mirrors the rise of Dubai, which Clark calls a "global metropolis." It's become "a great place for doing business" as well as serving the rest of the Middle East and North Africa region, particularly Saudi Arabia.

Its 96 flights a week from 12 US airports to Dubai has also made it easier for Americans to get to destinations such as Zanzibar, Mauritius or the Seychelles. Clark thinks there's a lot more growth to come in North America: "We have only really just started. We now have multiple points there, but there are so many more coming."

Emirates' expansion has been constrained to some degree by the availability of new aircraft. Delivery delays for Boeing's new 777X has prompted the airline to spend $4.5 billion "gutting all the old 777s and retrofitting them," Clark says. To maintain its fleet of about 250 passenger jets "you've got to retrofit," he adds.

It's also upgrading many of its A380s, which it first took delivery of in 2008. Later to the premium economy party than other airlines, it only made its Emirates debut in August 2022.

Business class, however, has always accounted for a considerable part of the double-decker Airbus — even if Clark dislikes the name.

When corporate travel budgets were slashed after the 2008 financial crisis, he says older customers in particular started flying in business "in a manner that we just couldn't believe."

People "want to go and see and enjoy … that's why I remain optimistic that demand will continue at the pace it has, constrained by all these we've talked about in regards to supply."

Emirates consistently ranks as one of the world's best airlines, though last year, rival Middle Eastern carrier Qatar Airways was crowned the world's best airline by Skytrax. Qatar pushed Singapore Airlines into second place, while Emirates ranked third.

One of Emirates' advantages over most competitors is being able to recruit its 23,000 cabin crew from anywhere in the world. "That is part of the essence of our model," as Clark puts it.

He describes Dubai as a "really popular city to be in" for many workers — and doubtless the tax-free salaries, generous bonuses and accommodation offer are part of the attraction for some too.

While its training program is "very, very demanding" and being "refreshed all the time," Clark adds: "We try to think that by delivering a fairly innovative stack of products, which we try to change out regularly, that the kids are actually really interested in what they're doing. And they like what they're doing," he says. "We look after them. We care for their welfare."

Asked about where Boeing lost its way, his advice to CEO Kelly Ortberg is to treat workers better. Clark said that if a company "recognizes and respects" its people, "they look after you. I promise you, they'll be doing much more than you asked them to do, simply because they're so proud of being in a company that looks after them."

Clark has been in the airline business for more than half a century, starting off at British Caledonian in 1972 before moving to Gulf Air in Bahrain for a decade. So why is he still working at the age of 75?

He says he considered stepping down during the pandemic but adds: "I just couldn't leave it. I was determined to get the business back on track and be profitable again, and eventually hand it over to the team of people I'm working with. These guys I've been working with 20 years, some of them.

"Frankly, will the business be successful with this team of people working? Of course it will … so I'll find a balance at some point, but I will go."

The airline posted a pre-tax profit of $2.6 billion for the six months to September, up 2%, on revenues of almost $17 billion, and Clark expects "another very good year" in 2025 but notes: "Anything can happen. Well, airlines are an unpredictable business, aren't they?"

There's a pretty clear sentiment in America's corporate world these days: anxiety.

Yes, big business generally welcomes the deregulatory promise and likely lighter tax bill that comes with Donald Trump's second presidency. But the accompanying uncertainty of Trump 2.0 is also leaving corporate America slightly on edge. The president is issuing executive orders at a breakneck pace, but vague wording, court battles, and questions of legality mean the significance of these orders is unclear. Trump has promised to take big swings on tariffs and immigration, but how those swings actually manifest is in flux. Elon Musk is a similarly disruptive figure, with his DOGE staff firing federal workers and slashing funding for various programs at a head-spinning rate. Given the bum-rush first month, many corporate leaders are scrambling to gain some favor with Trump or, at the very least, avoid his ire.

In short, we're in an era of scaredy-cat capitalism. American business isn't moving boldly and swiftly — it's acting slowly and timidly, waiting for the uncertainties to shake out and trying not to call much attention to itself in the meantime.

When Trump took office in 2017, many CEOs were alarmed by his immigration and climate policies. When Trump was inaugurated in 2025, some of America's most recognizable corporate executives were seated behind him. Major companies and leaders donated millions of dollars to Trump's inauguration fund and have visited the president's Mar-a-Lago club. If companies appeared somewhat willing to strike a tone of defiance in 2017, the vibe this time around is one of compliance.

In December, ABC News, owned by Disney, agreed to pay $15 million to Trump's future presidential library in order to settle a defamation lawsuit. Meta similarly cut a deal in January to give $22 million to settle a 2021 suit. CBS's parent company, Paramount, has thus far held out on settling a lawsuit Trump filed over a "60 Minutes" segment, though some observers believe it's only a matter of time before it folds, possibly in hopes that the administration will look more kindly upon a pending acquisition by the studio Skydance. As my colleague Peter Kafka has pointed out, these Trump lawsuits are the type that typically would not get very far — but now that he's back in the White House, the risk-reward calculus is different.

"Powerful companies with enormous legal resources are deciding that they're better off making a payment — in the form of a donation — to Trump than fighting him," Kafka wrote.

In an attempt to head off Trump's anti-DEI campaign, several companies have backed away from diversity, equity, and inclusion efforts. Companies including Target, Walmart, and Meta have announced policy rollbacks. Others, such as GM, PepsiCo, and Disney, have taken a subtler approach, quietly axing DEI language and programs. The US Chamber of Commerce has pulled much of the information about its Equality of Opportunity Initiative, announced in 2020 to "help close race-based opportunity gaps," from its website.

This isn't happening in a vacuum: The right has been increasingly vocal in its opposition to DEI efforts in recent years, and Trump has put that opposition into overdrive — and in writing. He's signed executive orders seeking to root out DEI practices in the private and public sectors, including barring government contractors from engaging in them and asking federal agencies to identify corporate targets for potential lawsuits over DEI. The plan, according to Trump, is to stop "illegal DEI." It's not clear what that means, and the underlying law hasn't changed, but it still makes companies nervous and has had a chilling effect. No one wants to be the government's target — or draw the conservative internet's ire and become the next Bud Light. Agencies may be looking for low-hanging fruit to make an example out of in order to scare others off. And regardless of what the government does, negative publicity and social media campaigns are a threat in and of themselves.

Some business leaders may remember some of the vindictive nature of Trump's first term, such as the president's opposition to the AT&T-Time Warner merger, reportedly partly because of his dissatisfaction with CNN. In an interview with Bloomberg last July, Ken Chenault, the former CEO of American Express, cited it as cause for trepidation about a second Trump term. "The fear is real," he said.

Daniel Kinderman, an associate professor at the University of Delaware who studies business responses to right-wing populism, said companies may regret cozying up with Trump and being quick to bend to his will.

"What the government's doing is so radical that I think a lot of companies will be sorry that they got on the bandwagon or did not keep a greater distance," he said. "It's not reducing their risks."

On the domestic and foreign fronts, the perception of Trump as a loose cannon may give him an advantage in negotiations — acting unpredictable and volatile is a way to throw, say, China off balance. But for business, it can be challenging to navigate.

"Businesses like predictability, and that's not what they're going to get from Trump," said Alex Conant, a Republican strategist who was the communications director for Marco Rubio's 2016 campaign. "Trump is highly unpredictable, which creates a challenging business environment."

In a note on Tuesday, David Kelly, the chief global strategist at J.P. Morgan Asset Management, said that the policy uncertainty created by the Trump administration could slow economic growth, affect hiring, and stunt investment. He pointed to tariff threats, immigration crackdowns, federal workforce reductions, and federal budget uncertainties as areas where action could be cause for business hesitancy.

"The rapid pace of these moves, along with frequent reversals, court challenges and mixed signals on future policy actions, make it difficult for economists to assess their cumulative effects," he wrote. "Also important, and even harder to analyze, is the potential for policy uncertainty to delay business decisions."

If you're an automaker, for example, you're staring down the potential of steel and aluminum tariffs, separate tariffs on imports from Canada and Mexico, and reciprocal tariffs from trading partners. Plus, you're not sure what's going to happen with electric vehicle tax credits. It's hard to know where to begin or whether to make an investment at all. At a conference in February, Ford's CEO, Jim Farley, said Trump's moves had created "a lot of costs and a lot of chaos" for the industry.

In an interview with CNBC on Thursday, Walmart's chief financial officer, John David Rainey, said the retailer was "not going to be completely immune" from tariffs on imports from Mexico and Canada. Tariffs on imports from China would likely affect the company, too. He said that there was "far from certainty in the geopolitical landscape" and that Walmart hadn't calculated tariff increases into its financial expectations for the year.

Companies are tasked with laying out various scenarios of what might happen next — and reassuring their shareholders that they're prepared for whatever's ahead. Elaine Buckberg, a former chief economist at GM, has been in this situation before: the trade war with China that Trump kicked off during his first term.

"I feel like I was doing scenarios on China tariffs back and forth, basically, until COVID came and took away all the attention," she said. "I would prepare presentations the night before, and they'd be updated by the next morning."

Buckberg pointed to a 1983 paper from Ben Bernanke (who would go on to be the chair of the Federal Reserve) on investment decisions and uncertainty. "If there's this irreversible investment and there's uncertainty, you'd rather wait until the uncertainty clears up," she said. "And so that means you should expect lower business fixed investment, which hurts growth until this uncertainty resolves."

Congress and Trump will need to negotiate through at least one tax bill this year, as Trump's 2017 tax law is set to expire. Conant pointed out that this fight will be more uncertain for businesses. Congress may look to find ways to raise revenue — whether from higher taxes on certain activities or by eliminating tax credits. That could make for some winners and losers, and pit various industries against each other. "I don't think the business community is going to be as united this time as they were last, because there's going to be winners and losers," he said.

To be sure, businesses are benefiting from plenty of Trump's actions, uncertainty and all. He signed an executive order halting enforcement of the Foreign Corrupt Practices Act, which bars companies from bribing foreign government officials. The Trump administration is likely to be more hostile toward unions than the labor-friendly Biden administration and take a hands-off approach to regulation. Still, the insecurity of it all remains a challenge.

"I've been in Washington for 15 years, and this is the most chaotic time, where there's so many surprises that are happening on a weekly basis," said Nick Nigro, the founder of Atlas Public Policy, a research firm in Washington, DC. "There's too much uncertainty for meaningful decisions to be made right now."

The global Economic Policy Uncertainty Index, which tracks news coverage of economic policy uncertainty, has risen sharply since the 2024 election. The National Federation of Independent Business' optimism index ticked down in January, though it remains well above where it was during the Biden administration. The National Association of Home Builders survey that tracks sentiment among homebuilders found that confidence fell in February. The University of Michigan's consumer sentiment indexes dropped in February as people began to worry about tariffs and inflation concerns bubbled back up. As Americans contemplate the landscape, optimism remains, but reality is setting in, and it's a bit unnerving.

Across corporate America, a pervasive sense of unease is setting in. Businesses do not want to call negative attention to themselves, even on what many might consider run-of-the-mill diversity programs. They don't want to become a target of the president or of angry people of any political persuasion online. Meanwhile, they're managing an outlook where it seems like anything could happen — an executive order here, a court battle there, an immigration raid, a new tariff, an axed tax break. The feeling permeates through consumers and workers, too. If the federal government is taking a slash-and-burn approach to its workforce, what's stopping business from following suit? Many companies have been cutting their workforces. Plenty of consumers have wondered if they should stock up on stuff before tariffs take hold, and some have taken action.

Scaredy-cat capitalism doesn't mean panic mode — but it's a scenario where everyone's a little insecure about what comes next.

Emily Stewart is a senior correspondent at Business Insider, writing about business and the economy.

• In a rare move, China publicized a wargame in which US ships sank a top Chinese warship.
• In that simulation, the Chinese ship succeeded in temporarily blinding the incoming US missiles.
• The Chinese wargame is highly irregular and smacks of disinformation, naval experts said.

In a recent Chinese wargame, US missiles sank one of China's most powerful warships. So why does China appear to be happy about that result?

The answer may be that China is signaling that it knows the secrets of America's prime ship-killing missile. Or — as some Western analysts suggest — China could be trying to undermine America's confidence in its own weapons.

The wargame was disclosed to the public in early January by the South China Morning Post, citing a November paper in the Chinese journal Command Control & Simulation. The game, run by the North China Institute of Computing Technology, involved a Chinese carrier battle group sailing in the South China Sea near the Pratas island, which are controlled by Taiwan but claimed by China.

For reasons unspecified, the Chinese task force was attacked by a US carrier strike group, which targeted a Type 055 destroyer escorting the Chinese carrier. The new Type 055 — a 13,000-ton destroyer that the Pentagon classifies as a cruiser — is a formidable vessel armed with 112 launchers capable of firing anti-ship, anti-aircraft and land-attack cruise missiles.

"The US military suddenly began a large-scale attack on the Chinese fleet, with one wave of 10 AGM-158C Long Range Anti-Ship Missiles (LRASMs) launched simultaneously from different platforms," according to the Morning Post.

The Lockheed Martin-built LRASM is a stealthy, subsonic cruise missile with an estimated range of at least 200 miles. Equipped with multiple guidance systems, LRASM features GPS as well as onboard radar and thermal sensors to home in on the target if satellite-based GPS is jammed.

In the Chinese simulation, the US destroyers launched LRASM, which initially rose to high altitude and then descended to skim close to the sea to try to delay their detection by radar, the Morning Post said. "When they were about 10 kilometers [6.2 miles] away from the target, their radars malfunctioned one after another due to electronic warfare interference from the [People's Liberation Army], and they were unable to receive GPS positioning signals."

"At this point, the missiles switched to thermal imaging cameras to continue flying and, at a very close distance from the target, they suddenly rose up, confirmed the specific attack location, and then plunged to an extremely low altitude, successfully hitting the Chinese destroyer."

Chinese researchers claimed to have gleaned details of the LRASM from open-source intelligence and "long-term accumulation. Yet even the Morning Post — owned by e-commerce giant Alibaba, which has close ties to the Chinese government — admitted that it couldn't use public information to verify the accuracy of the missile's depiction in the game.

'Humble brag'

That China would include the new LRASM in its wargames is no surprise: the missile, with an estimated range of at least 200 miles, would be key to any American attempt to defend Taiwan from Chinese invasion. What did surprise Western analysts was that China felt it had enough knowledge of LRASM, such as its guidance systems, to model them in a game.

Also notable was that the Chinese government must have given its permission for Chinese media and defense journals to publish the results of a wargame that typically has been classified. When nations learn the secrets of enemy weapons, through espionage or other means, they are wary about tipping off the enemy.

British naval experts offer another potential explanation: China is playing mind games with America. "Although framed as a 'humble brag' with the loss of a PLAN [People's Liberation Army Navy] destroyer, the article clearly advertised a certain Chinese confidence in the inevitable arms race in which China and the US, as technological world leaders, are engaged," said Edward Black and Sidharth Kaushal in an essay for the Royal United Services Institute, a British think tank.

Black and Kaushal point to several glaring aspects of the Chinese wargame. For example, the simulation assumes that the Chinese destroyer successfully jammed the LRASM's passive radar, which homes in on electronic signals from enemy ships rather than emitting its own waves that return as an active radar does. In fact, China has been developing methods to jam passive radar, such as feeding it false signals.

"The PLA's claimed success here would, if true, have ramifications both for the survivability of missiles with a low radar cross-section (which the PLA is implicitly claiming the ability to track) and for US naval efforts at emissions control and the use of passive detection," the RUSI researchers note. In addition, the game portrays LRASM's GPS being jammed, which suggests Chinese confidence that it can defeat anti-jam features on American GPS.

The British experts — and Chinese social media — also point out a curious omission: the Type 055 destroyer only used electronic warfare to stop the LRASMs, even though the ship is well-armed with HHQ-9 and HHQ-10 anti-aircraft missiles as well as a short-range air defense cannon. Yet the destroyer must have detected the LRASMs to jam their passive radar, and radar tracking would allow the crew to fire these interceptors to knock out the incoming missiles.

Since each LRASM has a 1,000-pound warhead that can devastate a warship, it's highly unusual to rely on electronic warfare alone and at such close range (only 6 miles) to down an incoming salvo of missiles. Even in the presence of jamming, LRASM could still lock onto the ship's thermal exhaust via infrared guidance. A warship is also unlikely to rely only on electronic warfare against missiles that close: if jamming fails, there's no time to launch missile interceptors and hardly enough for a gun to track and fire at multiple incoming missiles.

Black and Kaushal raise a truly Machiavellian possibility for why China is publicizing the wargame: Disinformation to undermine American confidence in LRASM. Precise details of the LRASM's performance, such as its maximum range, are classified. If China is modeling the LRASM in their wargames, then perhaps Beijing has managed to steal the missile's secrets?

Not likely, conclude the British analysts. "If the PLA [People's Liberation Army] was truly confident in its success in accessing sensitive data, it would have strong incentives to keep this private to achieve surprise in a conflict rather than alerting the US to the compromise of critical systems," Black and Kaushal said.

Michael Peck is a defense writer whose work has appeared in Forbes, Defense News, Foreign Policy magazine, and other publications. He holds an MA in political science from Rutgers Univ. Follow him on Twitter and LinkedIn.

• Gainesville and Durham piloted guaranteed basic income for formerly incarcerated people.
• Many formerly incarcerated people in the US do not have access to traditional social safety nets.
• Participants reported better financial resilience but struggled with housing costs after the program.

Six hundred dollars a month was the boost some formerly incarcerated people needed to rent apartments, cover unexpected expenses, and land steady jobs.

Gainesville, Florida, and Durham, North Carolina, recently tried using cash aid to help alleviate financial instability among formerly incarcerated residents, a demographic that is especially vulnerable to homelessness and food insecurity. Guaranteed basic income — which offers participants no-strings-attached payments — has been piloted across America as an approach to poverty reduction.

The cities aren't the only places that have tried similar cash aid programs: the Center for Employment Opportunities gave cash to over 10,000 formerly incarcerated people across the US in 2020.

In Gainesville, 115 participants received an initial $1,000 payment followed by $600 a month for 11 months, ending in spring 2023. In Durham, 109 participants received $600 a month for one year, ending in spring 2023.

Both participant cohorts were compared to control groups of formerly incarcerated people who did not receive GBI, and the pilot results were published by the Center for Guaranteed Income Research at the University of Pennsylvania in February. The results are based on interviews with participants and surveys that were completed before, during, and six months after the program.

While some Gainesville and Durham participants struggled to maintain financial gains after their cash payments ended, most said the money allowed them to afford essentials and alleviated some stress, which helped their mental health. Rent, groceries, and household bills were commonly reported uses of the GBI payments.

"Guaranteed income really is just a tool to ensure, in the Gainesville and Durham cases especially, that no one is too poor to be free," said Sukhi Samra, executive director of the advocacy group Mayors for a Guaranteed Income, which partnered on the pilots. "We're not trapping people in a culture of poverty and in a culture of scarcity and lack."

Cash helped formerly incarcerated people afford essentials

Formerly incarcerated people face higher rates of financial insecurity and unemployment compared to the rest of the population. This can make it difficult to afford basic needs. Per data published by the Bureau of Justice Statistics in 2022, the most recent year available, about a third of formerly incarcerated individuals aren't hired in the four years after their release. Black people were also admitted to jail at more than four times the rate of white people as of 2022.

Most states give incarcerated people a small amount of money — between $10 and $200 — when they leave a prison or jail. However, some states restrict access to safety nets for formally incarcerated people. For example, Florida prohibits people who have been convicted of drug trafficking from accessing safety nets like SNAP and TANF.

Brianna Seid, a lawyer for the justice program at the Brennan Center for Justice, told Business Insider that $10 or $200 might help buy a train or bus ticket home, but it isn't near enough to pay court fees, lease an apartment, afford childcare, or establish reliable transportation — especially if people face limited access to safety nets.

"There's this idea that people get arrested or convicted, go to prison, and leave, and that's just the end of the punishment," Seid said. "I think for a lot of people, they don't understand the ways that we excessively and perpetually punish people for having a criminal conviction, and it really touches every area of your life."

Cash is a potential way to ease work and income barriers, she said.

In the Gainesville pilot, participants reported that guaranteed basic income helped them secure housing, have more hope, increase financial resiliency, and put food on the table. The share of participants who said they were "worried about having enough food" decreased from 59% at the start of the program to 49% six months after payments ended. The number of participants employed full-time also increased from 12% to 17% during that time.

Durham participants reported using GBI money to buy hygiene products, afford food, and build savings. The percentage of participants "worried about having enough food" also decreased from 59% at the start of the program to 44% six months after payments ended. Over that same period, the share of participants who felt they had enough money to support themselves rose from 3.7% to 18.35%.

Samra added that many participants in both Gainesville and Durham said that having extra cash helped them better adhere to probation requirements and prevent further arrests.

Many participants struggled with housing costs after the programs ended

Six months into receiving cash, 3% of Gainesville participants said they were experiencing homelessness. But six months after GBI ended, that figure had risen to 12%. In Durham, results showed that 29% of participants were severely housing-cost-burdened six months into the program, a number that rose to 41% six months after payments ended.

At the same time, Samra said that guaranteed basic income isn't meant to be a cure-all poverty solution. GBI pilots are temporary, and she said the financial challenges some participants faced after the program show that more support is needed.

For Samra, there's one major takeaway from the results: financial support is a step toward keeping people out of the prison system.

"These results show that if you provide a little bit of cash support, you're allowing folks the space and the ability to not only re-enter and breathe," she said. "And prevent the sort of harm and activities that they wouldn't be doing if it weren't for a simple lack of cash."

Konstantin Malofeyev is on a roll. It's the day after Donald Trump's victory in the 2024 election, and the Russian oligarch's 900,000 followers on Telegram expect a rollicking post. Malofeyev, after all, is one of the Russian right's most adept media magnates, mentored by a former producer from Fox News on how to nourish and captivate a conservative audience in Russia.

Malofeyev illustrates his postelection post with a provocative image of Trump raising a clenched fist. Trump "is our enemy," he declares. "He wants a great America." Even so, he suggests, Trump might be able to get together with Vladimir Putin and agree on a common goal: how to divide the world between the two great superpowers. He finishes with a Trumpian flourish: "LET'S MAKE RUSSIA GREAT AGAIN."

It might sound like standard social media bluster, but Malofeyev can't be dismissed as a blowhard. He combines the media savvy of Steve Bannon with Elon Musk's ability to bankroll his own crusades, but he goes to greater lengths than either: The nationalist, religiously infused political faction he helps lead includes elements of the country's military and security services. On his multimedia platform, Tsargrad, which claims more than 3 million followers, Malofeyev beats the drums for Russian nationalism with a fervor that rivals the strongman posturing of Trump himself. He's also a proud sponsor of violent military rebellion: In 2014, he helped organize — and perhaps even instigate — the Russian separatist rebellion in the Donbas region of Ukraine, which served as a precursor to Putin's all-out invasion.

When Malofeyev speaks, everyone from Kremlin insiders to policymakers in Washington pays heed, his pronouncements seen as a signal of where Putin might be headed. He also has a fan base among American conservatives who cheer his screeds against "wokeness" and who view Washington and NATO as the culprits for the war in Ukraine. "He has enough money that he can certainly get his ideas listened to," says E. Wayne Merry, a Russia expert and former foreign service officer who served in the US Embassy in Moscow. It pays, then, to understand what Malofeyev has in mind to "Make Russia Great Again" — a goal that, in his mind, might be achieved only by full-scale nuclear war. "We are able to and must deliver a truly potent retaliation strike in a way that will force the West to curb support of Ukraine," Malofeyev wrote in an article published last year on Tsargrad.

Does he truly believe the war in Ukraine can be won with nuclear weapons? "Yes, I still think it is possible," Malofeyev tells me in a meandering, 7,000-word opus he sends in response to questions I submitted to him. "We have been messing around with a weak rival like Ukraine for too long, even with all the help they get from NATO." In his view, Russia must rebuild the empire along 19th-century tsarist lines.

"I see my position now in Russia as someone deeply engaged in its imperial revival," Malofeyev writes. "I believe that Russia will become an Empire again, and we are heading towards that end irreversibly and decisively," he adds. "I will help this come about with all my might."

Like Putin, Malofeyev wants to return Russia to a time before the Soviet revolution — reviving traditional values and institutions like the Orthodox Church and reassembling a "Great Russia" that includes ethnic Russians living in places like Ukraine. As both a child and an exuberant architect of this grand mission, his zeal for it possibly exceeds Putin's own.

Malofeyev was born in 1974 in a Moscow suburb, where his father was the head of a Soviet astrophysics laboratory. When he was 11 or 12, he tells me, one of his father's colleagues, a theoretical physicist, handed him a Bible, which he devoured. A grave childhood illness opened "some inner horizons," and his great-grandmother nourished a religious sensibility. But it was "The Lord of the Rings" that stimulated his conversion. "I was one of the boys who came to faith in Jesus Christ through Tolkien's fairy tale universe," Malofeyev tells me. "It may sound strange but it's true!"

In the summer of 1991, with the Soviet Union on the brink of collapse, Malofeyev enrolled at Moscow State University to study law. By his account, his political views had already crystallized. He wanted Russia to go backward, to the pre-Soviet era when Imperial Russia was ruled by a tsar with the blessing of the Russian Orthodox Church. As a student, he wrote papers extolling prerevolutionary Russia, guided by his "single dream" — to "revive the monarchy in Russia and the Russian Empire itself." The Russian people were happiest then, he believed. His given name, he points out to me, was in honor of his great-grandmother's late husband, an officer in the White Tsarist Army.

This nostalgic vision dovetailed with an unremitting antipathy toward Western democracy — especially America's — as an empty form of what he derisively calls "show business." In 1993, as a law student, he watched with revulsion as Russian tanks, on orders from President Boris Yeltsin, fired on nationalist oppositionist rebels in the Russian parliament. "Yeltsin's actions were being coordinated directly from the American embassy," Malofeyev told me. (In fact, the American embassy viewed the shelling as a disaster for Yeltsin and for the cause of Russian democracy.)

After graduating, Malofeyev embarked on a path through the no-holds-barred terrain of Moscow finance. Like many of the country's newly minted oligarchs, he prospered through a combination of guile and strategic alliances with Kremlin-connected figures. In 2005, he launched his own investment fund, Marshall Capital Partners, whose largest single stake was in Rostelecom, Russia's state-controlled telecommunications provider. Russia was not yet a pariah in Western business and political circles, and with his fluent English, Malofeyev developed personal connections to players both on Wall Street and in London's financial district. At its peak, his investment fund reportedly amassed assets of $1.5 billion.

But Malofeyev, unlike other oligarchs, did not shy away from promoting his political views. When the Kremlin was advancing a law to suppress 'gay propaganda,' Malofeyev told cultural conservatives in the West that "Christian Russia" could help liberate their own countries from what he called "the new liberal anti-Christian totalitarianism of political correctness, gender ideology, mass-media censorship and neo-Marxist dogma." To expand his political influence, he hired Jack Hanick, a former Fox News producer, to help create a Russian media platform modeled on Fox News. When Rupert Murdoch founded Fox News, Malofeyev was told by Hanick, "studies showed that 80% of the American population was conservative, but at the same time 80% of journalists were liberals." Malofeyev immediately saw the parallels. "When I heard about this," he tells me, "I believed that we could do a similar thing in Russia, because during the Western 'colonization' of our media during the 90s, Russian media as well became very liberal and pro-Western."

Under Hanick's tutelage, Malofeyev was on his way to becoming a full-fledged culture warrior. Then a transformative event — one that took place on an actual battlefield — propelled him into an even more radical role: an organizer of armed rebellion.

In February 2014, the Maidan revolution in Ukraine toppled the country's pro-Russian president, Viktor Yanukovych. It also threatened to bring Ukraine into the European Union — a move that would represent a political and economic setback for both Putin and Malofeyev. Alexandar Mihailovic, the author of "Illiberal Vanguard: Populist Elitism in the United States and Russia," tells me Malofeyev's "personal finances" stood to suffer, because his "considerable investments in import and export businesses" in the Donbas region were suddenly at grave risk.

Two months after the uprising, a militia of pro-Russia commandos engaged in a shootout in the Donbas against forces loyal to Kyiv. The group was headed by Igor Girkin, a former operative in the Russian security services whom Malofeyev had brought onto the payroll as head of security at Marshall Capital. On a phone call intercepted by Ukrainian intelligence, Malofeyev could be heard showering praise on Girkin. He was especially pleased the clash took place on Palm Sunday, the Christian holiday that marks Jesus' triumphal entry into Jerusalem.

Malofeyev: So you killed exactly right people.

Girkin: Excellent! Thank you.

Malofeyev: Also want to say you marked very well the holiday.

Malofeyev was a prime financial backer of the pro-Russia separatists as they maneuvered to establish political control of the Donbas. Alexander Borodai, the prime minister of the self-proclaimed Donetsk People's Republic, had consulted for Malofeyev at Marshall. As the fighting raged on, Malofeyev brushed aside questions about why a self-professed Christian would back an armed and bloody insurrection. "You are confusing Christianity with Buddhism," he told a Russian publication at the time. "Christianity knows a large number of holy warriors," including saints who "chopped people up with a spear and a sword." Igor Girkin, he said, "took communion during the war, banned swearing in his units, and said that war is a holy cause."

To this day, Russia analysts debate whether Malofeyev, in fomenting the rebellion, was acting on his own or on the Kremlin's instructions. It's a question that goes to the core of who he is: Just how willing is Malofeyev to act on behalf of his interests, and in his view Russia's, without express permission from Putin?

"I am 80% sure that was his initiative" in the Donbas, Ivan Grek, the director of the Russia program at George Washington University, tells me.

The US and other Western governments sanctioned Malofeyev as "closely linked" to the separatist rebellion in Ukraine. But despite the financial blow he suffered, Malofeyev sped ahead with his media venture. In 2015, Tsargrad launched with a Fox-like slogan: "We are not afraid to tell the truth." But Vasily Gatov, a Russia media analyst, has noted that Tsargrad's closest American parallel is not Fox News but Breitbart, which offers a similarly "hyper partisan" blend of news and opinion.

To serve as chief editor, Malofeyev brought in Aleksandr Dugin, whose nationalistic writings enjoyed a following among Moscow's political elite, including military strategists. Dugin's 1997 book "The Foundations of Geopolitics," called for the restoration of a Moscow-run Orthodox Eurasian empire, in which Ukraine would be stripped of its sovereignty and become "a purely administrative sector of the Russian centralized state." The Russians, Dugin preached, were an "imperial people." The declared goal of Tsargrad — the name Slavs gave to the ancient Byzantine capital of Constantinople — was to "rebuild the empire."

"Aleksandr Dugin is a great man, I should say he is truly brilliant," Malofeyev tells me. Dugin now serves as editor in chief of Katehon, a think tank Malofeyev established. The organization derives its name from a biblical term that Malofeyev translates as "the force that keeps the world from being consumed by the coming evil."

Dugin's views, bankrolled by Malofeyev, have made him a darling of the American right. When Tucker Carlson visited Moscow last year for an exclusive interview with Putin, he also sat down with Dugin, whom he hailed as "a writer who writes about big ideas." In Dugin's telling, Putin was despised in the West because of his defense of "traditional values." Agreeing, Carlson bemoaned what he called the "very serious" antipathy directed at Putin. When Carlson posted a video of the interview on X, it garnered more than 8 million views.

As Tsargrad has expanded its reach and influence, Malofeyev has outpaced even the Kremlin's ambitions for empire-building. In 2022, when Putin finally launched his all-out invasion of Ukraine, a headline on Tsargrad exulted: "The predictions are coming true: Ukraine is no more." Now, with Trump's return to power, Malofeyev sees an opportunity to end the war and reestablish Russia's reach into Europe.

"There is only one single conversation that can take place to solve all of this," he told me. "A summit between President Putin and President Trump, where these two world leaders would resolve the whole set of issues, redrawing global security into a new multipolar framework. Ukraine is only a small part of this bigger picture." It didn't take long for Malofeyev's desire to begin to materialize: The two leaders had a phone call on February 12, during which Putin hinted at his desire to end what he views as NATO's expansionist agenda on the frontiers of Europe. A week later, Trump called Ukraine's president Volodymyr Zelensky a "dictator" and said he's planning to meet with Putin to negotiate an end to the war.

In the meantime, the message Tsargrad is delivering to Russians is that all is not well in the land Putin has ruled for so long. The platform often publishes the kind of dissent that the Kremlin normally moves to silence. "Society is tired of unpredictability and uncertainty," Yuri Pronko, a veteran Moscow journalist and one of Tsargrad's chief commentators, declared in a recent video. "Life in Russia has become very expensive, both literally and figuratively. Prices have skyrocketed, and if someone's salaries grow, they are immediately devalued by inflation and devaluation."

I suggest to Pronko that his grim presentation doesn't sound like what the Kremlin wants to hear. "I am a journalist, not a propagandist," he tells me. "It may seem strange to you, but in Malofeyev's media I have more freedom than I previously had in other media."

In Moscow, the platform is widely perceived as to the right of Putin. "A lot of people close to Tsargrad are radically opposed to Putin," says one insider. "For these people, Putin is not radical enough."

Given Tsargrad's critical tone, why does the Kremlin — which has increasingly cracked down on naysayers — tolerate Malofeyev? It may suit Putin to remind Russians that he is not the most militant figure in Moscow. Malofeyev serves as a useful demonstration that "Putin is not the worst choice," says Dmitry Gudkov, a former member of Russia's parliament now living in exile. It's possible that Putin genuinely appreciates Malofeyev's fervent support for Russia's war in Ukraine, including medals for valor the oligarch hands out to Russian warriors. And it doesn't hurt that Malofeyev is married to Maria Lvova-Belova, who serves as Putin's commissioner for children's rights. Both Lvova-Belova and Putin have been indicted by the Hague on suspicion of "the war crime of unlawful deportation" of children from Ukraine to Russia.

Malofeyev and his spouse, in any event, share with Putin the distinction of being supremely hated figures in Kyiv. A "nice family," is how Yulia Klymenko, a member of the Ukrainian parliament, sarcastically describes the Malofeyev pair to me in a text. "Ideological devil + convict witch. The only home for them is hell."

Malofeyev's views on America come through loud and clear in his 20-page response to my questions. "It is proven fact that what you used to call 'Founding Fathers,' all of them were members of a secret, not at all transparent or democratically elected Masonic organization," he writes. "It was all a big show run by rich slave owners." He also rails against the "Deep State" that ran the Biden administration with "their perverted ideology (globalism, wokeism, cancel culture, encouragement of mass migration, gender issues) and live habits (pedophilia, child trafficking, and so on)." Still, he says, the future may offer hope: "I would like to agree with Elon Musk, who has recently said that we need to establish a direct democracy on Mars." His view of Trump's return to power contains a certain grudging respect. Trump and Musk, he says, are "transparent in their loyalty to post-liberalism, traditional values and anti-woke ideology."

Given his cultural rhetoric, Malofeyev serves as a useful conduit to American conservatives, recasting Putin's government as a vital bastion of traditional values. Jackson Hinkle, a MAGA hard-liner whose podcast was banned by Twitch for propagating disinformation about the war in Ukraine, interviewed Malofeyev on his podcast after Trump's election, introducing him as a "Russian patriot" who had been "vilified by the US government." Hinkle assured listeners that Malofeyev — and by extension, Putin — deserved their admiration. "I don't consider him a villain," he said.

It would be easy to dismiss Malofeyev's promotion of family values as a cynical ploy to win the support of Western conservatives. But everyone I spoke with about him — in Moscow, Washington, and Europe — views Malofeyev as sincere in his beliefs. Critics view him as a key cog in the culturally retrograde triumvirate of Trump, Putin, and Viktor Orbán, the prime minister of Hungary. "The Axis of Hate is back," Remy Bonny, a Belgium-based activist who advocates for LBTQ+ rights, tells me. In this transatlantic bloc, Bonny says, Malofeyev can be seen as an early and influential champion of Russia's emergence under Putin as a "pacesetter" for a global campaign against progressive values.

Malofeyev, for this part, has a simple explanation for the latitude he is given to criticize Putin's policies. "I am an independent rich man," he told podcaster Hinkle last year. "I have nothing from the state. My media belongs to me, privately. My business is completely private."

Just how much Malofeyev is worth isn't clear; the scuttlebutt in Moscow is that he has amassed a fresh pile of wealth in crypto. He won't disclose any information on his business affairs, he tells me, because that would make it easier for American prosecutors — "this gang of thieves" — to "steal my assets." The US government has seized some $5 million traced to a Malofeyev investment in a Texas bank, and the Justice Department has authorized transferring the funds to Ukraine to support war veterans.

Still, outspoken as Malofeyev can be, he sometimes pulls his punches. A year ago, a Moscow court sentenced Igor Girkin to prison — the man Malofeyev once employed and praised as a holy warrior in the Donbas rebellion. Girkin's crime was to call out Putin as a "cowardly bum." Malofeyev apparently did nothing to help his former employee escape this fate. Girkin has said he had a falling out with Malofeyev on "how an honest Russian patriot should act." In Girkin's view, the oligarch's aspiration to fit Russia's government in a "patriotic-monarchist uniform" was "doomed to failure."

One clue to Malofeyev's approach to Putin came in November, when he addressed a rally on National Unity Day, a Russian holiday. In the remarks he posted on his Telegram channel, he gave thanks to the local governor and bishop for participating in the celebration — but, tellingly, he made no mention of Russia's president. At 50, Malofeyev is not so much confronting the 72-year-old Putin as looking past him. When I asked him to describe his vision of a post-Putin Russia, Malofeyev said the Russian constitution should be changed to allow Putin to rule for life and to appoint a successor, just as in a monarchy.

That step would fit with Malofeyev's cherished idea of a future for Russia constructed on a glorified idea of the past. It could also enable him to emerge as an influential player in the post-Putin era. I ask Merry, the former foreign service officer, who is likely to succeed Putin. Russia's next ruler, he says, will almost certainly be a "serious nationalist," he answers — and will likely come from the camp of those "frustrated with Putin's inability to get it done" in Ukraine. In other words, from the camp of which Malofeyev is a leader.

As I pored over Malofeyev's responses to my questions, it seemed to me at times he was risking the Kremlin's ire. But his willingness to push back at Putin's war policy as soft and slow on Ukraine also reflects the frustration that many Russians feel over a bloody struggle that has ground on for more than a decade. At his year-end press conference in December, Putin was asked what he would do differently if he had the chance to go back to the beginning of the all-out invasion of Ukraine. "I would have thought the decision ought to have been taken earlier," he replied. Putin, in effect, has gravitated to the position long held by Malofayev. His life mission, to rebuild the empire, on track, the oligarch is proving an uncanny foreshadower of the direction of a turbulent Russia.

Paul Starobin is the author of "Putin's Exiles: Their Fight for a Better Russia."

• A Gen Xer made $280,000 last year secretly working two full-time remote jobs in the medical field.
• He said "overemployment" helped him boost his income after he failed to land promotions.
• Juggling two jobs can be stressful, but he's learned how to manage his workload.

After spending years struggling to rise in the ranks at work, Daniel found another way to boost his earnings: secretly working a second full-time job.

In 2020, Daniel worked remotely as a training and customer support specialist in the radiation oncology field, a medical specialty involved in cancer treatments. When his company offered employees a three-month sabbatical with reduced pay, Daniel seized the opportunity. He spent those three months working in a part-time, remote role for another employer in the industry.

Daniel said this experience made him realize he might be able to juggle a remote side gig in addition to his full-time role after his sabbatical. When his part-time gig came to an end, he found another. By 2021, this part-time gig had converted to a full-time role, and for the first time, Daniel was working two remote full-time jobs simultaneously.

Last year, Daniel earned more than $280,000 across his two jobs, each of which paid more than $125,000 annually. He said the additional income has helped him grow his retirement savings, complete home renovations, and, in the coming months, will go toward buying a second investment property.

"I feel like I'm expediting my years of income-earning potential," said Daniel, whose identity was verified by Business Insider but asked to use a pseudonym due to fear of professional repercussions. "I'm doubling up, so I don't have to wait a couple of years to save up for something."

Daniel, who's in his late 40s and based in Texas, is among the Americans who have secretly worked multiple remote jobs recently to increase their incomes. Over the past two years, BI has interviewed more than two dozen "overemployed" workers who've used their earnings to pay off debt and travel the world. To be sure, having multiple jobs without the approval of one's employer could have professional repercussions and lead to burnout. But many job jugglers have told BI that the financial perks generally outweigh the downsides and risks.

Struggling to climb the "corporate ladder" led to overemployment

In the early 2000s, Daniel was working as a research technician for a biotech company. He believes he hit a pay ceiling at that employer and that he would have needed additional education to advance his career. After exploring his options, he decided to enroll in a one-year program focused on radiation oncology, which he said opened doors for higher-paying opportunities.

After graduating in 2005, Daniel worked at a new employer for about a year until he landed his landed his current remote role, which involves training hospital staff on using certain medical products and providing customer support over the phone. The job came with a lot of downtime, but it presented a familiar hurdle: He said he struggled to land promotions and increase his pay during the next 14 years. Then, he started his sabbatical.

Daniel feels frustrated that he spent so many years trying to get recognition from his employers. However, he said the demands of job juggling have forced him to accept that he can't be a "star employee" at either of his jobs. In recent years, he's shifted his focus to maximizing his earnings instead of climbing the corporate ladder.

"This is something I know how to do and I'm pretty good at it," he said of overemployment. "But climbing the corporate ladder, I don't think I was very good at it. I wanted to be much better than I really was."

Daniel said he typically works 40 to 50 hours a week across the two jobs. Even though there's the occasional 60-hour week, having no commute saves him a lot of time. He added that spreading out his work over the week has helped juggling two jobs feel more manageable. For example, he might work a few hours on the weekends or in the evenings and spend some time during the day running errands.

"I can set my own schedule, so it doesn't feel so overbearing," he said.

Daniel said each of his bosses knows he has a "side gig" but doesn't know it's full-time. While some bosses think that secretly juggling multiple jobs is unethical, James said he feels no guilt.

"The companies I work for can lay me off for no reason at any time, so there's no sort of sense of loyalty," he said.

Going forward, Daniel said he hopes to generate rental income from the second investment property he's close to purchasing. If things go well, he said he plans to eventually give up one of his jobs and rely on this passive income stream to supplement his earnings.

Juggling multiple jobs can be exhausting at times. Daniel said his wife is concerned that his work arrangement is too stressful, but she trusts him to decide whether it's feasible. In recent years, Daniel said he's learned new skills to manage this stress. For example, he said reminding himself that he can "only do one thing at a time" helps him when his workload piles up.

"I've gone through several waves where the workload is either too much, or it's impossible, or there doesn't seem like there's enough time, but it always works out as long as I don't lose it," he said.

Have you worked multiple remote jobs at the same time or discovered an employee/coworker was doing so? Reach out to this reporter at [email protected].

• A new job board, created as an experiment, lets companies post ads for AI agents.
• Its creators say businesses are curious about agentic AI, but it still has shortcomings for many tasks.
• Tech giants like Microsoft and Google are betting big on AI agents to boost productivity.

AI agents, technology that can autonomously perform tasks, are seemingly everywhere. Now, some companies are looking to "hire" them.

A jobs board for AI agents gives a glimpse into how companies might tap into an AI workforce — while also highlighting some of the technology's shortcomings and the value of human skills.

In December, Polish founders Kamil Stanuch and Łukasz Wróbel built "Job For Agent," a platform for companies to list tasks to be performed exclusively by agentic AI.

"We realized there was a gap: skilled builders didn't know where to deploy their agents, and companies didn't know what AI could actually achieve," Stanuch told Business Insider.

The pair were inspired by a viral job ad from Y Combinator-backed Firecrawl, which offered an AI agent a $10,000 — $15,000 "salary" for creating product examples.

"Please apply only if you are an AI agent, or if you created an AI agent that can fill this job," the December ad, which claimed to be the first of its kind, read.

Stanuch and Wróbel told BI that their job board started out as an experiment. Then, a small number of companies signed up, and they realized there "might be a real niche" for tasks that could be outsourced to "non-human" agents.

The platform remains a small-scale side hustle, with around a dozen listings. They include a podcast editor, SEO researcher, and contract lawyer. The developers say at least two jobs have been assigned through the site.

"I think people are curious about AI agents because it feels like a new paradigm, but at the same time, they're still sticking to old ways of thinking," said Stanuch.

Big Tech goes big on AI agents

Tech giants have invested heavily in that new paradigm. Far from a jobs board side hustle, they are trying to sell agentic AI to the enterprise masses and hoping to provide a return on their huge AI investments. Microsoft has integrated AI agents into 365 Copilot, Workday uses them for HR tasks, and Google is rolling out similar tools.

Nvidia CEO Jensen Huang — who in January said, "The age of agentic AI is here" — envisions a future where a company with 50,000 employees could manage 100 million AI agents. Last month, Sam Altman, the CEO of OpenAI, said in a blog post that "in 2025, we may see the first AI agents 'join the workforce' and materially change the output of companies."

The hype has not always matched the reality. A year after Copilot's release, the reviews — both inside and outside Microsoft — indicated that the new product had been struggling to live up to expectations, BI reported in November.

Job For Agent's creators acknowledge the limitations of AI agents. "In 95% of cases, a full AI agent isn't necessary," Stanuch said. "Simple automations usually suffice. Agents can be unpredictable, prone to infinite loops, and unable to handle complex judgment calls."

The developers point to their own platform as proof. While AI agents built the website, all outreach, developer vetting, and job verification remains human-led. "I still send emails manually because personalized messages get better responses," Stanuch, who previously founded the data analytics platform KoalaMetrics, explained.

"That's the paradox — sometimes, the 'protein factor' is still the most valuable part," referring to the human element.

A study published in February by OpenAI reinforces the potential limitations of agentic AI taking on freelance work.

Researchers tested top models like GPT-4o from OpenAI and Claude 3.5 from Anthropic on 1,488 tasks on the freelancer platform Upwork, using a new benchmark called SWE-Lancer. The jobs ranged from coding bug fixes to project management.

The researchers found that AI agents handled managerial tasks well but stumbled with hands-on work. AI agents could fix bugs but often missed root causes, sometimes introducing new errors, the paper said. The researchers concluded a lot of real-world freelance work remains challenging for frontier language models.

Even the viral Firecrawl job ad, which inspired Job For Agent, was eventually taken down. The company told TechCrunch it had 50 applicants but couldn't find an AI agent suitable for the job.

Eager for agentic AI

Any limitations agentic AI might have today are being offset by some businesses' curiosity about what will be possible.

A Capgemini survey of about 1,000 organizations, conducted between May and June 2024, found that while only 10% of respondents said they employed AI agents at the time, 82% intended to integrate them within one to three years.

Peter Diamandis, entrepreneur and executive chairman and founder of the X Prize Foundation and AI optimist, is worried about job displacement. But he thinks there's also hope for an entrepreneurial boom. "We'll see a surge in startups and entirely new business models, driving an entrepreneurial wave that creates jobs we've never seen before. The truth is, no one really knows what will materialize."

Companies that posted ads on the Job for Agent site pointed to potential productivity and efficiency gains from agentic AI while highlighting the importance of human workers.

Arcanum AI, a New Zealand-based startup, posted an ad on the jobs board for building an entirely AI-run real estate agency. But even its CEO, Asa Cox, acknowledges the limits. "More than 90% of AI agents today can only handle simple, standalone tasks," he told BI.

Florida-based Wolsen Real Estate posted a listing for an AI real estate investment analyst. Its CEO, Denis Smykalov, told BI that he sees AI as a way to boost efficiency — not replace humans. "AI streamlines processes and lets us focus on high-value tasks," he said. "But it's still a tool, not a replacement."

Similarly, some researchers believe that AI agents will augment, rather than replace, human workers. "Automation does not equal autonomy," Avijit Ghosh, an applied policy researcher at Hugging Face, told BI. "Repetitive tasks are being automated, but the idea of a fully independent AI workforce? That's still speculative at best."

Staunch and Wróbel say it's early days for agentic AI workforces.

"AI is still at the 'gimmick' stage," Staunch said. "Just like every mobile app seemed revolutionary at first, only a few truly changed the world. We don't know yet what the real AI breakthrough will be — but we're paying attention."

• Federal workers were emailed Saturday with a request to list productivity details from their week.
• Elon Musk said that those who don't reply by 11:59 p.m. on Monday will have forfeited their role.
• Many federal employees told BI they feel frustrated by the request. Some have already been told not to respond.

Several federal workers across agencies told Business Insider they're frustrated and scared for their jobs after Elon Musk said they must email their work accomplishments or risk losing their jobs.

Some say they're skeptical of the ramifications — others have been told not to respond.

The productivity-tracking email, sent Saturday afternoon from an HR account in the Office of Personnel Management, followed President Donald Trump's instruction to Musk to "get more aggressive" in reducing the size of the federal bureaucracy. It's the latest of DOGE's sweeping initiatives that have resulted in mass firings, funding pauses, and work stoppages in departments and agencies across the federal government.

Musk, who's closely linked to the DOGE office, teased that the email would be forthcoming in a post on X Saturday, writing: "Failure to respond will be taken as a resignation."

"It's terrible," one Department of Education employee whose work has been slowed by executive orders and layoffs said. "It feels like harassment, especially sending it out on a Saturday and boasting about it in advance on X so that everyone could be checking their email afternoon in anticipation of its arrival."

Another federal employee — from the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention — said they "can only imagine how many people they'll fire based on the responses/non-responses to this."

Another wondered "how much money is being wasted" on having federal employees respond to the email, while yet another questioned who would review the replies.

Representatives for the White House and Office of Personnel Management did not immediately respond to requests for comment from Business Insider.

Many of the federal workers who spoke with BI said that hours after the DOGE email had been sent, they had still not received any communication from their supervisors regarding how or whether to respond.

"No idea how to respond being as this is from outside our chain of command," one federal worker told BI.

Others said they had been instructed by their union representatives or managers to wait for further direction before replying.

"Once again, agencies were caught off guard by these emails, just like the chaotic "Fork in the Road" email," the National Treasury Employees Union wrote in an email to its members, urging them not to respond until they receive further guidance. "This email is yet another attempt by the administration to scare hardworking civil servants who deliver for the American people every day. It is shameful. We will update you soon."

The American Federation of Government Employees said in a notice to members that the union "strongly believes this email was sent illegitimately and that OPM lacks the authority to direct the assignment of work to agency employees in this manner."

"We will formally request that OPM rescind the email and clarify under what authority it was issued," the AFGE email reads. "In the meantime, AFGE advises all federal employees to forward the email to their supervisor and seek guidance on whether and how to respond, including the type of information that can be disseminated to OPM."

The productivity email that was sent to federal workers did not include Musk's comment on X that employees who did not respond by the Monday night deadline would be considered as having resigned. Several workers who saw his post said they wondered whether that would be possible — or legal.

"I question whether them firing people based on a non response to this would be legal," the Department of Education employee said. "There are a number of agencies, like DOJ, which has attorney-client privilege, or DHS, which engages with national security topics, where people will surely be told by supervisors not to respond."

Some of the federal workers who spoke to Business Insider had resolved not to respond. Others, disheartened by the aggressive funding and job cuts propelled by the DOGE office, said they had begun looking for other work even if they didn't believe they'd be fired.

A member of the Department of Health and Human Services' Disaster Medical Assistance Team, part time disaster workers who respond to federal disasters like hurricanes and earthquakes, suggested they might resign either way.

"I have another job like the rest of us and I don't need this type of stress," the DMAT member said. "Maybe I'll just resign."

The employee said they're part of a group of people that thrives "in stressful situations," but that the stress of having their job in limbo "is different."

• Sam Altman, in a Saturday post on X, announced his baby had been born "early."
• The newborn will be "in the NICU for awhile," the OpenAI CEO said, but added, "he is doing well."
• "I have never felt such love," Altman wrote.

Sam Altman has welcomed a baby, he announced Saturday in a post on X.

"welcome to the world, little guy!" the OpenAI head wrote, alongside a close-up photo of the newborn, with the baby's hand grasping an adult's finger.

"He came early and is going to be in the nicu for awhile," Altman continued, referring to the neonatal intensive care unit, where newborns receive specialized medical treatment after birth. "He is doing well and it's really nice to be in a little bubble taking care of him. i have never felt such love."

Altman, who is married to software engineer Oliver Mulherin, hasn't said if he plans to take paternity leave, but the new addition comes at a busy time for the OpenAI leader. The artificial intelligence company is in the middle of a significant transition from a nonprofit entity, having announced plans in December to transfer control of daily operations to its for-profit subsidiary. The move has attracted legal challenges from OpenAI's competitor, Elon Musk.

Representatives for OpenAI declined to comment on the birth when reached by Business Insider.

In a January 6 episode of the Re:Thinking podcast hosted by Adam Grant, Altman said he was expecting a child, adding that children in the future will never know a world without AI that's smarter than they are.

"And that'll be natural," Altman told Grant. "And, of course, it's smarter than us. Of course, it can do things we can't, but also who really cares? I think it's only weird for us in this one transition time."

The birth announcement quickly made waves through the tech world, with Microsoft CEO Satya Nadella sending well wishes in a response on X, writing: "My heartfelt congratulations, @sama! Parenthood is one of life's most profound and rewarding experiences. Wishing you and your family the very best."

Altman and Mulherin married in January 2024 in an intimate ceremony. The pair, who live together in San Francisco, have led a relatively private relationship, making one of their first public appearances in 2023 when the OpenAI CEO brought Mulherin to a White House dinner.

In a September 2023 interview with New York Magazine, Altman said that the pair planned to have kids soon.

• Growing up, my family would take road trips from New England to Florida.
• When my grandfather was 94, me and my dad took him for one last road trip.
• He died six months later, but the memories from that trip will always be with me.

Growing up, my family was fortunate enough to take a few road trips from New England to Florida. We'd pile suitcases, razor scooters, Doritos, and coolers into the proverbial family station wagon and brave the tumultuous nearly 2,000 miles of Interstate 95.

This stretch of highway carries over 100 million people, including thousands of trucks and semis carrying goods throughout the country; it is not for the faint of heart at times.

My paternal grandfather started this tradition in his 70s with a group of older friends. When it got too cold in New England, they migrated south with the birds.

We decided to take him on a road trip again

As my grandfather got older and his group of friends dwindled, the trip became more arduous and less frequent.

He was a virile man, working until his 80s and shoulder-pressing my adolescent sister to prove his continued strength. However, as he got into his mid-90s, that virility diminished, and even walking became difficult. After Christmas in his 94th year, his morale had crashed. He required a walker or wheelchair at times, and the cold got to him more than ever. It became clear he needed the respite of a southern migration.

So the 94-year-old World War II vet, his motorcycle and car enthusiast son (my father), and a naive recent college grad who thought they knew more about the world than they did (me) loaded the Trailblazer and followed the birds. Grandpa sat in the back seat with his face against the window while my father and I split driving duties in the front.

The stretch 95 from the George Washington Bridge through New Jersey was always brutal, but hitting Delaware was like seeing the greener grass on the other side of the fence. Now, state sizes would fluctuate, traffic would subside, and we'd ease into the relief of warmth. This is where my grandfather found great joy in tracking the milemakers on the side of the road. He'd call out each green sign as we progressed, "10 miles to Maryland."

Next, we hit the gauntlet of the Chesapeake and mid-Atlantic. Baltimore tunnel can add hours to the already bullish commute, and DC is like playing traffic Russian roulette. Luckily, the old man knew the detours of these areas, and we passed the Mason-Dixon with comparative ease. The shift in the environment led to Grandpa spinning some new yarns: his zig zag train ride in the war that brought him to Fort Bragg, the time he nearly sold his Cadillac to a stranger at a gas station on this route, stealing oranges from a golf course.

The external temperature had barely changed from New England, but he was getting warmer.

Eventually, after reading every billboard between the Carolinas aloud, he took a long nap. There was a sort of silent understanding between my father and me, knowing this trip might be the last of its kind.

It was his last trip

After about an 18-hour trek, we hit the Sunshine State. You could see the smile light up on the old man's face.

The following week, we pushed the wheelchair down the Hollywood boardwalk, stopping for an occasional cold beer at tiki bars or street vendors. My grandfather was in complete awe by the wave pool at Margaritaville, watching would-be surfers tumble into the chlorinated water.

The stories continued, too. I learned my grandfather was born on a kitchen table. Our ultimate patriarch (his father) had blue eyes, a rarity for Italian immigrants in the 20s. Grandpa would push his handicapped daughter's wheelchair onto the beach and carry her into the water so she could feel the surf on her legs. I wish I could have carried him from his, but the man never wore shorts.

We'd end our Floridian pilgrimage and headed back north after a week. The old man died about six months later, but moments from that week were constantly part of his conversations until then.

They'll continue to be a part of mine forever.

• The White House DOGE office is continuing to crack down on federal employees.
• On Saturday, federal workers got an email asking them to list what they accomplished last week.
• Some federal workers told BI they weren't sure how to respond, given work stoppage orders.

The White House DOGE office had an email sent to federal employees on Saturday asking them to list what work they accomplished in the last week.

The subject of the email, which was seen by Business Insider, read, "What did you do last week?"

"Please reply to this email with approx. 5 bullets of what you accomplished last week and cc your manager," the message sent from the OPM's HR email address reads. "Please do not send any classified information, links, or attachments. Deadline is the Monday at 11:59pmEST."

The emails followed President Donald Trump's instruction to Elon Musk to "get more aggressive" in reducing the size of the federal bureaucracy. Musk had teased that the emails would be forthcoming in a subsequent post on X, writing: "Failure to respond will be taken as a resignation," but the email received by employees did not detail any potential consequences for failing to reply by the deadline.

One Department of Education employee whose work has been affected by executive orders and layoffs told Business Insider that they planned to check in with their supervisor before responding to the email and were uncertain how to reply.

"Everything I normally do is on hold because they are reviewing it so I'm at a total work stoppage," the Department of Education employee said. "I could go into everything I normally do that they are currently holding up. Another approach would be not to respond."

Are you a federal employee who received this email from the DOGE office? Tell the reporters of this article how you plan to respond by using a non-work device to email [email protected] and [email protected].

The email also confounded and frustrated other federal employees who spoke to Business Insider.

"No idea how to respond being as this is from outside our chain of command," one federal worker told BI. "This is pure harassment."

Another federal employee — from the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention — said they "can only imagine how many people they'll fire based on the responses/non-responses to this."

"I'm not running cover for this horseshit," one employee of the Federal Communications Commission told BI.

In just a matter of weeks, Trump and the White House DOGE office have gone full steam ahead to reduce the size of the federal bureaucracy.

About 77,000 federal workers accepted the buyouts Trump offered shortly after he took office for his second term. The administration has laid off scores of workers at the US Agency for International Development, the Consumer Financial Protection Bureau, and other key agencies. Several top-level officials who initially pushed back against Musk's efforts have now resigned or retired.

DOGE on Thursday said it had so far saved $55 billion in taxpayer dollars, largely through canceled contracts.

The White House did not immediately respond to a request for comment.