Supabase doubles valuation to $10B in 8 months
Supabase, an example of an open source project becoming a fast-growing company, has greatly benefited from AI tools like Claude, Codex, and other vibe-coding platforms.
🇺🇸 미국 · IT/기술 · "BECOMING" · 총 24건
필터 보기현재 지수
50.0
0 = 부정 우세
50 = 중립
100 = 긍정 우세
최근 7일 기준 11,967건을 분석한 결과, 뉴스 심리지수는 50.0(균형)입니다. 긍정 1건(0.0%)·중립 11,965건(100.0%)·부정 1건(0.0%)이며, 중립 비중이 뚜렷하게 높습니다. 성향 지수는 종합 18.8(중도 균형)입니다.
Supabase, an example of an open source project becoming a fast-growing company, has greatly benefited from AI tools like Claude, Codex, and other vibe-coding platforms.
AI fluency is becoming the new baseline for finance talent.
C.C. Wei told shareholders the company is working hard to avoid becoming a bottleneck as AI demand overwhelms capacity across the supply chain
Comments
AI may well deliver the productivity boom its champions expect. The risk is that the economy has already begun borrowing against that future before the returns have been earned. The post Breitbart Business Digest: Is the AI Boom Becoming Too Much of a Good Thing? appeared first on Breitbart.
Just in case you were wondering, Nvidia's RTX Spark isn't supposed to be a one-off. The company is not just flirting with becoming the fifth high-profile vendor of consumer laptop chips to see if people bite. At Computex 2026 in Taipei, Nvidia CEO Jensen Huang confirmed at least two additional generations of RTX Spark are […]
Coding tools are becoming an increasingly big target for Google and Microsoft as they try to catch up to Anthropic and OpenAI.
Comments
Open-weight AI models with advanced capabilities and no safeguards are becoming much more accessible. While they can be useful, AI safety experts have concerns.
TikTok may be working to become the app that people use for most of their digital activities.
Inference costs are becoming a race to the bottom, and Google's full stack AI approach puts it in a good position to offer cheaper tokens.
Prediction markets have an insider-trading problem that one-off cases might not solve.
I have been an application-specific IC (ASIC) designer for almost three decades. Over that time, I’ve moved through the full academic trajectory, from graduate student to full professor; later, I transitioned to industry after an unsuccessful stint at entrepreneurship. When I made the switch to the private sector in 2019, I began focusing on a critically important aspect of the electronic industry: silicon intellectual property. As much as 80 percent of the physical area in today’s most advanced chips is occupied by blocks that aren’t made for specific products or even designed by the consumer-facing companies that built them. Instead, chipmakers draw heavily on established silicon IP from companies like Arm, Cadence, Rambus, Synopsys, and the company I work for, Silicon Creations. Throughout my career, I’ve designed chips for very different purposes, including enabling the research program in my academic lab and expanding the IP portfolio of my company. When I joined Silicon Creations, I had no idea how differently the industry approaches IC design and encountered a steep learning curve. Initially, it seemed that much of my two decades of academic research and training did not directly translate to the role. I had to learn new skills and adopt a new mindset. Today, demand for ASICs is rapidly growing, driven by the need for specialized chips in the automotive sector, AI applications, and more. By one market estimate, the ASIC market is expected to grow from US $23.4 billion to $38.8 billion by 2033, and the semiconductor industry as a whole is projected to hit $1 trillion by 2030. The industry needs more chip designers—but if you’re coming from an academic background as I did, there are a few things you’ll need to know. Different goals lead to different strategies The differences between industry and academe begin with a divergence in purpose. In academia, my primary objective was to generate new knowledge: to propose a novel circuit technique, validate an unconventional architecture, or explore the limits of performance in a given domain. A successful chip is one that demonstrates a concept. In industry, it is not nearly enough to prove that something can work. The goal is to ensure that it works reliably, repeatedly, and at scale. Success is measured not by novelty but by whether the silicon meets specifications, yields as expected in production, and supports a competitive product delivered on schedule. This leads to a stark contrast in risk tolerance. Academic designs often deliberately push into unproven territory, where even partial success can yield valuable insight. In industry, however, we systematically minimize risk. The cost of failure makes first-time silicon success a central requirement—especially at advanced technology nodes, where the lithography masks used to transfer circuit designs onto silicon wafers alone can cost tens of millions of dollars. As a result, industry design flows are built around eliminating uncertainty through conservative margins, extensive validation, and careful reuse of proven solutions. “Academia explores the design space, asking what is possible, while industry exploits it, determining what is viable at scale.” This paradigm has existed since the 1970s, when application-specific chip design was established. However, the gulf between academia and industry has expanded since the mid-2010s, when FinFET technology, a 3D architecture using vertical “fins” of silicon, was widely adopted in industry. System designs are also becoming increasingly modular with the advent of chiplets. This fundamentally altered the economics and complexity of ASIC development, with design costs rising by almost an order of magnitude. Initiatives like Taiwan Semiconductor Manufacturing Co.’s University FinFET Program and new government-funded chip-design hubs now let some well-resourced universities design for more advanced architectures, but the technology is still out of reach for many academics. What the industry-academia split means in practice Consider a startup developing an ASIC. Its engineering team may have deep expertise in a particular algorithm, sensor interface, or system architecture, the features that define its competitive advantage. But it is unlikely to possess world-class expertise in every supporting function. Developing each of these blocks internally would require significant time, capital, and specialized talent. Doing so could delay market entry beyond the startup’s viability. Even large semiconductor companies face similar constraints. Advanced-node development demands intense focus. Allocating a team to redesign a standard interface block that has already been implemented elsewhere may be difficult to justify when differentiation lies at the system level, such as an inference chip’s ability to speed up neural network computations. The time it takes to move a new chip from conception to market and risk mitigation, not self-sufficiency, govern most decisions about in-house development versus outsourcing. The economics of advanced IC manufacturing reinforce this reality. When the development cost of a leading-edge chip reaches hundreds of millions of dollars, minimizing risk becomes a central design imperative. In this context, silicon IP emerged as a practical solution. Similar to how software developers rely on preexisting libraries rather than writing every function from scratch, ASIC designers license predesigned, preverified silicon blocks—such as processor cores, memory interfaces, and security engines—from highly specialized IP vendors. These blocks can then be integrated into larger, increasingly complex systems. Design scope, verification, and time horizons With the use of silicon IP, industry is able to widen the scope of its designs. Academic efforts tend to focus on block-level innovation: a new analog-to-digital converter architecture or an ultralow-noise amplifier, for instance. These designs typically abstract away many of the complexities of bringing a chip to market, such as packaging constraints, long-term reliability, and manufacturing yield. In industry, the focus shifts to system-level integration. Modern systems on chips, or SoCs, incorporate dozens or even hundreds of functional blocks. Managing signal integrity, timing, firmware interaction, and system-level validation becomes as critical as the design of any individual block. Verification philosophy also diverges sharply. In academia, the goal of verification is to demonstrate that the concept works under nominal conditions, which may not always reflect how it would perform in real applications. Even if only a fraction of fabricated chips from a multiproject wafer operates correctly, the design may still be considered a success if it validates the underlying idea. At my academic lab for instance, we used to receive 40 chips from a TSMC prototyping service and started testing them in batches of five. If the first five or 10 chips proved functional, we had already collected more than enough data for a publication. If some of them failed, we weren’t required to mention this when publishing the results. In industry, verification is exhaustive, critical, and often dominates the development schedule. Failures are measured in parts per million, and even rare anomalies are carefully analyzed and documented to identify root causes and prevent recurrence. When I started at Silicon Creations, I was surprised by the level of detail and scrutiny designs face. Differences in time horizons and economic constraints reinforce each of these contrasts. Academic projects operate on flexible timelines aligned with research and funding cycles. If I missed a deadline, I just had to wait for the next cycle. Industry projects are driven by fixed product schedules and market windows, frequently targeting costly leading-edge nodes to achieve competitive performance, power, and area efficiency. Missing a deadline can negate the value of an entire design and may have major financial consequences along the entire supply chain. In essence, academia explores the design space, asking what is possible, while industry exploits it, determining what is viable at scale. Both are indispensable, but they operate under fundamentally different definitions of success. As ASIC complexity continues to grow, understanding both perspectives will be essential for the next generation of engineers navigating the evolving semiconductor landscape. This article appears in the June 2026 print issue.
From Reddit's $60 million API deal to personal data worth "a few dollars," the new economics of AI training data are taking shape
The South Korean chipmaker closed 9.3% higher on Wednesday, becoming the third Asian company to reach the milestone after Samsung and Micron
The pope unveils "Magnifica Humanitas" encyclical, warning artificial intelligence risks becoming a tool of domination unless governments set moral limits.
The government’s A.I. Security Institute, staffed by alumni from OpenAI and Google, is becoming a model for countries grappling with A.I.’s emerging risks.
Once dismissed as empty expanses between galaxies, cosmic voids are becoming one of the most promising tools for probing the universe’s biggest mysteries.
Patients who use mobile applications to manage medical conditions including depression and chronic pain might assume the apps have been evaluated by regulatory agencies to be safe and effective. But that isn’t necessarily the case. Most of the more than 55,000 medical apps that claim to diagnose or treat a condition—or ones that provide clinical decision support, known as “therapeutic” apps—have never been assessed by any trusted neutral bodies or regulatory agencies to evaluate them for technical soundness, ethical design, or clinical benefit. The apps often don’t comply with regional data security and privacy laws to protect people’s sensitive health information. Medical apps differ from traditional wellness apps, which provide users with insights into becoming healthier by, for example, tracking fitness activities, monitoring blood pressure, and analyzing sleep patterns. There is no reliable way to verify that therapeutic apps deliver the results they indicate. To help ensure such apps are credible, the IEEE Standards Association (IEEE SA) recently launched the IEEE Global Medical Mobile App Assessment and Registry. The publicly searchable directory is designed to list apps that have been vetted by experts across several criteria including technical soundness, ethical design, compliance with data security and privacy regulations, and clinical efficacy, which is evidence of a clinical benefit for the patient. “Patients, clinicians, payers, and health care systems often struggle to distinguish clinically meaningful therapeutic apps from those that are simply well-marketed,” says IEEE Senior Member Yuri Quintana, chair of the assessment and registry program. He is chief of the clinical informatics division at Beth Israel Deaconess Medical Center, in Boston. “Our goal is to establish a standardized review method using criteria developed by experts.” Why regulation is lacking Because the apps are intended for medical use without being part of a medical implement, they fall under the designation of software as a medical device (SaMD), according to the International Medical Device Regulators Forum. SaMD is supposed to be regulated by public health agencies such as the U.S. Food and Drug Administration, but the apps have developed and grown in popularity so quickly that regulators haven’t been able to keep up, Quintana says. Some companies have received approval, but most have not, he says. Many users are unaware of the regulatory gap, he says. “Seeing an app from a well-known company often creates the impression that it has been meaningfully vetted for safety and efficacy, even when that is not the case,” he says. Some companies are using deceptive advertising to sell their product, he adds. Marketing materials might claim that all of a company’s health apps are certified, even though only one app has been approved by a regulatory body to treat a particular condition. Or the verbiage might imply the company has clinical evidence proving its application works, even though the app has never been tested independently. Another concern is that updated apps aren’t being vetted, says Maria Palombini, IEEE SA’s director of health care and life sciences global practice lead. “The original app might have received approval from a regulatory agency, but not the updated version,” Palombini says. “There could have been significant changes from the original.” “Not every medical-related app triggers the same regulatory classification or review across jurisdictions,” Quintana adds. “That leaves a large gray zone of clinically relevant but lower-risk apps that haven’t undergone an independent assessment. The IEEE registry was created to help fill these gaps. “IEEE is the best organization to address this problem because this is fundamentally a standards, trust, interoperability, and conformity assessment challenge,” he says. IEEE “is the world’s largest technical professional organization, with deep expertise in developing globally recognized standards including in health care, cybersecurity, AI ethics, and interoperability.” “Through the IEEE Conformity Assessment Program, we already run rigorous assessment and registry programs,” Palombini says. “Our neutral, consensus-driven, multidisciplinary approach—bringing together clinicians, regulators, developers, and ethicists without commercial bias—makes IEEE uniquely positioned to create trustworthy global guardrails that can scale across jurisdictions and support regulatory harmonization.” How the registry works The assessment framework was developed by a multidisciplinary group of 35 volunteer experts from 10 countries, Quintana says. The panel includes academics, AI experts, app developers, clinicians, ethicists, mental health experts, patient advocates, regulators, researchers, technologists, and those who assess safety in health care. The registry is for any app used for clinical care or therapeutics that claims to demonstrate a medical benefit. That includes apps designed for cardiology, diabetes, mental health, neurology, oncology, rehabilitation, and respiratory diseases, Quintana says. Initially, he says, the focus will be on apps that aim to treat mental health conditions, given the large number of offerings in that area and the registry committee’s expertise. The submission of apps is voluntary. There is no government mandate that requires a company to use the IEEE registry. The products will be evaluated against about 150 consensus-based criteria across three major areas: Clinical efficacy including therapeutic effectiveness, any sustained benefits, risk management, comparison to standard care, user engagement, and real clinical value. Technical soundness including accessibility, privacy and security, error handling, interoperability, AI governance, usability, and operational quality. Ethical design including bias prevention, patient consent, data governance, conflict-of-interest transparency, responsible use of AI and large language models, and prioritization of public health benefits. IEEE charges a nonrefundable submission fee that covers the cost of the assessment plus the registry’s annual subscription for the first year. Developers first must demonstrate they are a legally established entity before they can complete the app publisher registration form and then submit documentation and attestations about the product. The IEEE review of an app is estimated to take six to eight weeks, Palombini says. The assessment results will be privately shared with the app publisher, she says, and to be listed in the registry, an app must achieve more than 85 percent compliance in each category. Upgraded apps must be submitted and reassessed, Palombini says. Similar to how users are notified when an app on their smart devices has , the registry will be notified when listed apps have a new update available, she says. Applicants who do not pass the assessment are to receive feedback explaining why. They will be given an opportunity to make changes or provide additional documentation, Palombini says. “It’s a pretty methodological process, with checks and balances,” Quintana says. “We’re being very transparent about the process.” Approved apps added to the registry receive an IEEE certification badge and submission identifier, which the company can display on its website, app store listings, and marketing materials. “The badge serves as visible proof that the app has met the independent, consensus-based assessment for clinical value, technical robustness, and ethical design,” Quintana says. The registry will be publicly available at no cost, he says. Patients and families seeking safe, trustworthy apps—and payers and insurers evaluating reimbursement potential—will find the registry helpful, he says. The application website is open. The public registry page does not yet list a specific count of approved apps because assessments are ongoing. Approved apps and their unique identifiers are to be published when the initial reviews are completed. To learn more, you can watch a webinar recorded in March. The assessment framework that underpins the registry is supporting the formal recognition of IEEE P3962 Standard for Criteria Assessment Framework f
This sponsored article is brought to you by Wetour Robotics. A field technician on a wind turbine, harness clipped, both hands on a wrench, needs to send a command to the diagnostic device hanging at her belt. A logistics worker on a loading dock, gloves on, eyes on the pallet, needs to redirect a connected lift. A person using an assistive mobility device on a crowded street wants to nudge it forward without taking out a phone or speaking aloud. None of these moments call for a smarter robot. They call for a smarter way to be heard by the machines that already exist. The industry has been building from one side The past three years of Physical AI have been a story of remarkable progress on the robot side of the loop. Companies like Boston Dynamics, Figure, and Unitree have advanced actuators, locomotion, and dexterity to a level that would have seemed implausible a decade ago. Google DeepMind’s Gemini Robotics has redefined what vision-language-action models can do in unstructured settings. The trajectory of the hardware and the foundation models is real, and it is accelerating. But there is another side to this loop, and it has been treated as a solved problem for too long. The interface between humans and machines has defaulted, for 40 years, to three input modalities: screens, buttons, and voice. Each of those assumes the user can stop, look down, and translate intent into structured commands. That assumption breaks the moment the work moves into a real environment. On a turbine. On a dock. On a sidewalk. In any setting where hands are occupied, eyes are committed, or speaking is impractical, the conventional interface stack quietly fails. Spatial Intent Fusion is the simultaneous processing of three streams of human-centered information, namely spatial position, visual context, and gestural intent: Your body is the interface. The bottleneck on the human side of the loop is becoming as important as the one on the machine side. And solving it requires a different question. Not how do we make the robot more capable, but how do we let the human participate in the computing system as naturally as the robot already does. Wetour Robotics’ bet: put the human back into the computing loop Wetour Robotics is betting that the next architectural leap in Physical AI is not about making the robot more capable. It is about making the human a first-class node in the computing network, with the same kind of low-latency, high-fidelity participation that connected devices already enjoy. Wetour Robotics’ engineers frame the problem this way: a wristband that recognizes a gesture is not enough. A camera that recognizes a scene is not enough. The information a human carries about what they are about to do is distributed across multiple channels, including where their body is in space, what their eyes are attending to, and what their muscles are preparing to do, and any single channel observed in isolation is ambiguous. Reconstructing intent reliably means fusing those channels at the operating system level, with latency low enough that the loop feels closed rather than mediated. This approach has a name. Wetour Robotics calls it Spatial Intent Fusion: the simultaneous processing of three streams of human-centered information, namely spatial position, visual context, and gestural intent, fused into a single real-time command for any connected physical device. It is the technical implementation behind a simpler positioning statement the company uses externally: your body is the interface. Orchestra is a portable intelligent hub running the operating system that handles sensor fusion, intent inference, command translation, and safety arbitration. The reference compute platform is NVIDIA Jetson Orin Nano Super, which provides enough on-device inference capacity to keep the entire control loop at the edge, with no cloud dependency on the critical path. Wetour Robotics The architecture: three layers, four engines, one loop Orchestra is not a single device but a layered platform, designed from the start to be sensor-flexible and actuator-agnostic. The architecture decomposes into three perception layers and four coordination engines. Orchestra itself is the local compute and orchestration core: a portable intelligent hub running the operating system that handles sensor fusion, intent inference, command translation, and safety arbitration. The reference compute platform is NVIDIA Jetson Orin Nano Super, which provides enough on-device inference capacity to keep the entire control loop at the edge, with no cloud dependency on the critical path. Edge inference is non-negotiable for this application. Full-chain latency from biosignal acquisition to actuator command is held under 100 milliseconds, the envelope inside which closed-loop control feels natural rather than laggy. VisionLink handles visual and spatial perception. Cameras feed into vision models that identify objects, estimate distances, and track environmental context. VisionLink is designed not as a passive recognition layer but as a real-time command generator: its outputs feed directly into Orchestra OS to be fused with biosignal data. Conductor is the biosignal pipeline. It ingests raw surface electromyographic (sEMG) data from a wrist-worn device, classifies temporal patterns into discrete gestures or continuous control signals, and outputs actuator commands. The technically interesting property of sEMG for this use case is that the signal precedes visible motion. Motor unit action potentials appear at the skin surface roughly 50 to 80 milliseconds before a finger completes the corresponding gesture. Wetour Robotics calls this property pre-motion intent sensing, and it is what allows Orchestra to anticipate user intent rather than react to it. On top of the three perception layers, Orchestra OS runs four coordination engines. The Perception Engine ingests and normalizes raw sensor streams. The Intent Engine performs Spatial Intent Fusion across modalities, resolving what the user is trying to do given where they are, what they are looking at, and what their hand is signaling. The Orchestration Engine translates intent into device-specific command sequences for any connected actuator. The Safety Engine arbitrates conflicting commands, enforces operational envelopes, and gates execution against runtime safety conditions. Wetour Robotics The trade-offs we’re honest about No system that bridges the human body and the digital world is finished. Three engineering challenges remain open, and the company addresses each with a deliberate trade-off rather than a claim of having fully solved it. Baseline stability of sEMG under motion. In a stationary user, continuous gesture recognition from sEMG is reliable. Once the user is walking, climbing, or otherwise moving, motion artifacts and electrode drift degrade the signal in ways that are difficult to fully compensate for. Rather than overpromise on continuous control in dynamic settings, Orchestra defaults to a smaller set of robust discrete gestures in complex operating environments, and reserves continuous control modes for contexts where the signal-to-noise ratio supports them. Miniaturization of edge AI compute. Running the Orchestra control loop entirely at the edge requires real on-device inference, which has historically meant trading off between compute capacity, battery life, and form factor. Wetour Robotics’ approach has been a compact carrier board paired with a thermal design and a battery module sized for all-day wearability. The result is a hub that travels with the user rather than tethering them to a desk, and that performs the full perception-to-actuation loop without offloading to the cloud. Heterogeneity of third-party device protocols. The actuator side of the loop is a fragmented landscape. Different manufacturers expose different command interfaces, different communication stacks, and different safety conventions, and a Physical AI operating system has to integrate with all of them. Wetour Robotics uses an AI-agent layer to negotiate connection and protocol translation adaptively, so that Orchestra OS can ingest data from a wide range of devices, run them through neural network models that infer human intent, and emit the right command on the right protocol for the device on the other end. Why this matters, and why it helps the rest of the field The history of computing is a history of interface revolutions. Command lines gave way to graphical user interfaces, which gave way to touch, which gave way to voice. Each transition expanded who could participate in the system and what they could do with it. The next transition is not about a new screen or a new microphone. It is about treating the human body itself as a participant in the computing network, capable of contributing intent at the same speed and fidelity that any other connected node can. The history of computing is a history of interface revolutions. The next transition is not about a new screen or a new microphone — it is about treating the human body itself as a participant in the computing network. This path is not a competitor to the work being done on humanoid robots, foundation models for embodied AI, and dexterous manipulation. It is the missing complement to that work. The hardest open problem for humanoid systems is the data: every natural interaction between a human and the physical world is a potential training signal, and most of those interactions are currently invisible to any computing system. As more humans become first-class nodes in the loop, those interactions become observable, structured, and ultimately useful for training the next generation of embodied AI, including the humanoid robots being developed today. In other words: putting the human back into the computing loop is not just about better interfaces for individual users. It is about generating the kind of grounded, in-the-wild human-machine interaction data that the broader Physical AI ecosystem will need to keep advancing. The robot side and the human side of the loop are not two competing futures. They are two halves of the same one. That is what Wetour Robotics means when it says: Your body is the interface. Learn more at wetourrobotics.com.