Wednesday, May 08, 2024

Discovering the First Other Earths

In this excerpt from her book, Alien Earths: The New Science of Planet Hunting in the Cosmos, Lisa Kaltenegger makes science accessible—and exciting. Recounting the day she learned of a new discovery, her enthusiasm is infectious, and you will devour every word.

That cold day in Vienna with terrible coffee turned into one of the most exciting days of my life. Borucki told me he’d planned to find me at my talk the next day. During our serendipitous encounter, he shared an intriguing—and well-kept—secret that I really, really wanted to shout from the rooftops of this beautiful imperial city: The Kepler mission had found a new world that was just in the right spot around its star.



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The Hidden-Pregnancy Experiment

People are increasingly trading their privacy for a sense of security. Becoming a parent showed writer Jia Tolentino how tempting, and how dangerous, that exchange can be:

Shortly after I became pregnant with my second child, in the fall of 2022, I decided to try a modest experiment. I wanted to see whether I could hide my pregnancy from my phone. After spending my twenties eagerly surveilling and sharing the details of my life online, I had already begun trying to erect some walls of technological privacy: I’d deleted most apps on my phone and turned off camera, location, and microphone access for nearly all of the ones that I did have; I had disabled Siri—I just found it annoying—and I didn’t have any smart devices. For the experiment, I would abide by some additional restrictions. I wouldn’t Google anything about pregnancy nor shop for baby stuff either online or using a credit card, and neither would my husband, because our I.P. addresses—and thus the vast, matrixed fatbergs of personal data assembled by unseen corporations to pinpoint our consumer and political identities—were linked. I wouldn’t look at pregnancy accounts on Instagram or pregnancy forums on Reddit. I wouldn’t update my period tracker or use a pregnancy app.

Nearly every time we load new content on an app or a Web site, ad-exchange companies—Google being the largest among them—broadcast data about our interests, finances, and vulnerabilities to determine exactly what we’ll see; more than a billion of these transactions take place in the U.S. every hour. Each of us, the data-privacy expert Wolfie Christl told me, has “dozens or even hundreds” of digital identifiers attached to our person; there’s an estimated eighteen-billion-dollar industry for location data alone. In August, 2022, Mozilla reviewed twenty pregnancy and period-tracking apps and found that fifteen of them made a “buffet” of personal data available to third parties, including addresses, I.P. numbers, sexual histories, and medical details. In most cases, the apps used vague language about when and how this data could be shared with law enforcement. (A 2020 FOIA lawsuit filed by the A.C.L.U. revealed that the Department of Homeland Security had purchased access to location data for millions of people in order to track them without a warrant. ICE and C.B.P. subsequently said they would stop using such data.) The scholar Shoshana Zuboff has called this surveillance capitalism, “a new economic order that claims human experience as free raw material for hidden commercial practices of extraction, prediction, and sales.” Through our phones, we are under perpetual surveillance by companies that buy and sell data about what kind of person we are, whom we might vote for, what we might purchase, and what we might be nudged into doing.

A decade ago, the sociology professor Janet Vertesi conducted a more rigorous form of the hidden-pregnancy experiment. Using an elaborate system of code words and the anonymous browser Tor, she managed to digitally hide her pregnancy all the way up to the birth of her child. In an article about the experience, for Time, she pointed to a Financial Times report, which found that identifying a single pregnant woman is as valuable to data brokers as knowing the age, gender, and location of more than two hundred nonpregnant people, because of how much stuff new parents tend to buy. She also noted that simply attempting to evade market detection—by, for example, purchasing stacks of gift cards in order to buy a stroller—made her and her husband look as though they were trying to commit fraud.



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Why You Can’t Get a Restaurant Reservation

In this well-reported, entertaining, yet depressing story, Adam Iscoe reports on how hard it is to snag a table at a trendy restaurant in NYC. The city’s restaurant reservation ecosystem is far from democratic, and services like Appointment Trader (an online marketplace for people to buy and sell reservations) and memberships like Dorsia (an exclusive club that can secure you tables at tough-to-book spots) have only made it worse.

So who are the resellers, mercenaries, and hustlers who provide Appointment Trader with prime tables? Some are people who sit with OpenTable or Resy pulled up on their laptops every morning, amassing reservations in various names. Some are kids who borrow their parents’ Amex black cards, telephone Amex’s Centurion concierge, and book hard-to-get tables that are set aside for card users. Others call in favors with friends in the industry, bribe maître d’s, or e-mail reservationists with made-up stories—a diehard foodie visiting town (“we have always been desperate to come and try your delicious looking Lasagna!”), or pretending to be the Queen of Morocco or the sister of the King of Saudi Arabia.

Alex Eisler, a sophomore at Brown University who studies applied math and computer science, regularly uses fake phone numbers and e-mail addresses to make reservations. When he calls Polo Bar, he told me, “Sometimes they recognize my voice, so I have to do different accents. I have to act like a girl sometimes.” He switched into a bad falsetto: “I’m, like, ‘Hiiii, is it possible to book a reservation?’ I have a few Resy accounts that have female names.” His recent sales on Appointment Trader, where his screen name is GloriousSeed75, include a lunch table at Maison Close, which he sold for eight hundred and fifty-five dollars, and a reservation at Carbone, the Village red-sauce place frequented by the Rolex-and-Hermès crowd, which fetched a thousand and fifty dollars. Last year, he made seventy thousand dollars reselling reservations.



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Tuesday, May 07, 2024

An Ambulance, An Empty Lot and a Loophole: One Man’s Fight for a Place to Live

Cameron Gordon moved to Los Angeles for the same reason that so many other transplants do: to make it in Hollywood. He realized it’d be cheaper to sleep in his car than rent a hotel room, and eventually, he spent $15,000—his life savings—on three ambulances, one of which was good enough to drive around and sleep in. In this LA Times profile, Jack Flemming offers a glimpse into Gordon’s mobile lifestyle, and how—within this gray area between homelessness and homeownership—he has navigated the city’s rules and found creative solutions for living and working.

Gordon’s business model immediately took shape: Sleep in the ambulance at night and rent it out to film and television shoots during the day. He bought a domain name — ambulancefilmrentals.com — and quickly mastered the art of search engine optimization. If you Google “ambulance rental,” Gordon’s site will be among the top results.

With money flowing in from his rental business and no rent to pay, Gordon invested heavily in stocks and cryptocurrency. When the market boomed during the COVID-19 pandemic, he found himself with just enough money to buy an empty piece of land in Sun Valley for $65,000 in 2022.



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Joshua Tree’s celebrity rattlesnake wrangler wants to change how you see reptiles

Alex Wigglesworth gives us a fascinating portrait of Danielle Wall, who has dedicated her life to rescuing rattlesnakes. Set high in the desert, this story exudes the Wild West—but modern-day environmental issues are what disturb these snakes.

Later that afternoon, after she ribbed the construction crew, Wall drives into the backcountry of Landers with three Tupperware-like containers in the backseat of her truck. Inside each, a rescue. When the ride gets bumpy, they rattle and hiss.

She pulls up a map on her phone. Rattlesnakes have to be relocated at least a half-mile from any occupied property, but ideally no more than a mile or two from where they were found. They rarely travel outside of a one-mile radius over the course of their lives.



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The Teens Making Friends with AI Chatbots

Growing up, you might have confessed your angst to a paper diary, a blog, or maybe Myspace. Now, as Jessica Lucas reports for The Verge, teens can turn to AI chatbots to pour out their woes. But what are the emotional and societal consequences of relying on bots for support? Are the kids going to be alright?

Eventually, Aaron turned to his computer for comfort. Through it, he found someone that was available round the clock to respond to his messages, listen to his problems, and help him move past the loss of his friend group. That “someone” was an AI chatbot named Psychologist.

The chatbot’s description says that it’s “Someone who helps with life difficulties.” Its profile picture is a woman in a blue shirt with a short, blonde bob, perched on the end of a couch with a clipboard clasped in her hands and leaning forward, as if listening intently.

A single click on the picture opens up an anonymous chat box, which allows people like Aaron to “interact” with the bot by exchanging DMs. Its first message is always the same. “Hello, I’m a Psychologist. What brings you here today?”

“It’s not like a journal, where you’re talking to a brick wall,” Aaron said. “It really responds.”



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I Read Everything Elon Musk Posted for a Week. Send Help.

The whole “I did X so you don’t have to” rarely delivers on its promise of sparing you horror—no one asked you to watch every Hallmark movie in a single week without getting up from the couch—but I have to admit that this one got me. As well-chronicled as Elon Musk’s descent into edgelorddom is, it’s also nearly impossible to appreciate his deeply unfunny thirst without drinking from the firehose. Props to Tim Murphy for sacrificing his time (and sanity) to do just that.

A lot of his time is just spent saying the same grim things, to the same grim people, over and over. He has the mannerism not of a master of the universe, but of the reply guys clamoring for their attention. Musk tweeted “DefundNPR” at Rufo three times in two days, like a man at a ballpark by himself, trying to start the wave. He will sometimes respond to the same post multiple times, hours apart with a slightly different reaction.



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