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5 Reasons the Galaxy Z Fold 8 Wide Could Win and 1 Reason It Might Not

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Foldable phones have been around long enough that the novelty has worn off. Samsung pioneered the book-style fold, and the hardware has genuinely matured. Foldables today are thinner, lighter, and far more durable than the early prototypes that worried everyone. But one nagging issue hasn’t gone away after seven years of refinement. The proportions still feel like a compromise, and most buyers can still sense it.

That’s exactly what the Galaxy Z Fold 8 Wide seems designed to address. Rather than continuing the tall, narrow approach that has defined the Fold lineup since the beginning, the Wide version reportedly takes a shorter, broader form factor, with the inner display pushing toward a 4:3 aspect ratio. It’s a subtle-sounding change, but one that could shift how the device feels in every single moment you actually use it.

Designer: Samsung (renders by Steve Hemmerstoffer/OnLeaks via AndroidHeadlines)

It Could Make the Closed Phone Feel Normal Again

Anyone who has used a Galaxy Z Fold for a while knows the friction of the cover screen. It’s tall, narrow, and requires more thumb effort than you’d expect from a daily driver. Reaching the notification shade with one hand usually means repositioning your grip, and typing on that narrow layout takes some getting used to. It works, but it always feels like a device asking you to meet it halfway.

Galaxy Z Fold7

The Galaxy Z Fold 8 Wide reportedly carries a 5.4-inch cover display that is wider and shorter than what the Fold 7 offered. That brings it closer to the feel of an ordinary compact phone, one that sits comfortably in your hand without requiring thumb acrobatics. It sounds like a small win, but if you’ve ever owned a phone from before screens started growing taller every year, you know exactly how much that sense of balance matters.

It Gives Media Room to Breathe

There’s a quiet awkwardness to watching a video on current book-style foldables. The cover screen’s narrow shape forces letterboxing on most content, and even the inner display’s near-square proportions aren’t ideal for widescreen formats. Games feel slightly cramped, and browsing feeds in landscape doesn’t quite deliver the comfortable experience you’d expect from a screen that size. For a device this premium, that’s a surprisingly persistent design limitation.

A 4:3 inner display changes that dynamic considerably. The Galaxy Z Fold 8 Wide’s 7.6-inch screen reportedly lands in proportions that suit media consumption far better, making landscape video less of a letterboxed compromise and gaming more spatially generous. Rotating to portrait for reading or scrolling also starts to feel intentional, like the device was built to handle those orientations rather than merely tolerating them. That’s a meaningful difference in day-to-day comfort.

It Finally Starts Acting Like a Real Tablet

Foldables have always carried a bit of an identity crisis. They’re marketed as phone-tablet hybrids, but the tablet side of that pitch has always been shakier than the phone side. Apps designed for tablet layouts don’t always know what to do with a nearly square display, and the result is often stretched content, oversized sidebars, or awkward layouts that remind you this device is still figuring out what it wants to be.

Google Pixel Fold (2023)

The 4:3 ratio is a well-understood canvas. It’s the same one the iPad has used for years, and developers have been designing for it far longer than they’ve been designing for foldable proportions. Not every app on the Galaxy Z Fold 8 Wide will look perfect, but the number that feel genuinely at home on that inner screen stands to increase considerably. It’s a format the software world already knows how to fill.

It Could Become the Notebook You Actually Carry

There’s a certain appeal to a device that opens up to something resembling a pocket notebook. Not a productivity gimmick, but an actual blank-page-sized surface where you can think out loud. The Galaxy Z Fold 8 Wide, when unfolded, reportedly sits at dimensions close to a small memo book’s proportions. That makes it a surprisingly natural surface for quick thoughts, rough sketches, and anything else worth capturing before it slips away.

OPPO Find N2

The device is also reportedly thicker than the standard Fold 7, measuring around 9.8mm when folded, which gives Samsung more internal room to work with. It’s hard not to wonder whether some of that space is being reserved for S Pen support, which Samsung hasn’t confirmed yet. A stylus-compatible screen at these proportions would make the Galaxy Z Fold 8 Wide feel genuinely notebook-like, less like a big phone you write on and more like something actually worth reaching for.

Apple’s Shadow Could Actually Help It

Foldables still carry a reputational burden. The people who haven’t bought one yet aren’t always hesitating because of price or specs. Often, it’s the lingering sense that this is still experimental hardware, a category that hasn’t quite committed to a definitive form. Even Samsung’s most polished efforts can feel like stepping into an ongoing experiment, and that feeling keeps a large group of potential buyers watching from a distance.

iPhone Fold (Renders)

Apple’s rumored foldable iPhone is expected to sport dimensions strikingly similar to the Galaxy Z Fold 8 Wide, with a wider, shorter profile that closely mirrors what Samsung is building. When Apple commits to a hardware direction, cautious buyers tend to pay attention. It doesn’t guarantee anyone will rush out to buy a Samsung instead, but Apple’s presence in the same design space lends the wider foldable format a credibility that Samsung alone hasn’t quite managed to manufacture on its own.

But Samsung Has a Commitment Problem

Here’s the part that’s harder to shake. Samsung has a demonstrated pattern of building genuinely interesting experimental devices and then quietly stepping back when the numbers don’t perform. The Galaxy Z TriFold is the most recent example, a compelling piece of hardware whose long-term future already feels uncertain. Buying into the Galaxy Z Fold 8 Wide means betting that Samsung will stay committed long enough to make the second and third generations worth waiting for.

That concern is more meaningful here than it is for a standard phone. Accessories take time to mature. Software optimization accumulates across generations. And the design refinements that make a device feel truly polished rarely arrive on the first attempt. The Galaxy Z Fold 8 Wide might be a genuinely thoughtful piece of hardware, but Samsung’s track record with experimental form factors hasn’t yet inspired the long-term trust that a device like this quietly depends on.

The post 5 Reasons the Galaxy Z Fold 8 Wide Could Win and 1 Reason It Might Not first appeared on Yanko Design.

How Is a WWE Championship Belt Made? One Man’s Garage, $40,000, and a Handful of Artisans

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John Cena’s spinning championship belt should not have worked. It was gaudy, it was hip-hop inflected, it belonged more to a music video than a wrestling ring, and it absolutely captured a generation of young fans who grew up treating it as the definitive image of what a championship looked like. That belt stayed on WWE television long after Cena’s character stopped spinning it, because WWE understood that the object itself had taken on a life independent of the man who introduced it.

That is the particular power that championship belts hold over wrestling. Mick Foley took three of the most brutal falls in WrestleMania history and walked away as champion, and the belt validated every bit of the punishment. Bray Wyatt’s Fiend character carried a Universal Championship with his own face grotesquely incorporated into the design, because for that character, the belt had to be an extension of the horror. These objects absorb the identity of whoever holds them, and they carry that identity forward long after the reign ends.

A Tradition Borrowed From Boxing

Championship belts predate professional wrestling entirely. The tradition traces back to 1810, when British boxer Tom Crib defeated American boxer Tom Molino in a grueling 35-round fight, and King George III presented Crib with what historians consider the first championship belt, reportedly constructed from lion skin decorated with silver claws. One popular theory holds that early boxers would bring colored cloths to tie around their waists before fights, and winners would take their opponents’ colors and wear them as a belt to signal victory. The symbolism was immediately legible and it stuck.

When professional wrestling emerged as a competitive sport in the late 19th century, it borrowed the championship belt wholesale from boxing. The first recognized wrestling championship arrived in 1905, with George Hackenschmidt becoming the inaugural World Heavyweight Wrestling Champion. Early WWE belts were plain objects, basic leather straps with small metal plates, and during Bruno Sammartino’s legendary seven-year reign in the 1960s, the design featured little more than the shape of the United States pressed into leather. The wrestling mattered more than the prop, and nobody pretended otherwise.

From Simple Leather to Cultural Artifact

The 1980s changed everything. As wrestling transformed from regional athletic competition into globally televised entertainment, the belts transformed with it. The winged eagle championship arrived during the Golden Era and was perfectly calibrated for the personalities carrying it, Hulk Hogan, Randy Savage, the Ultimate Warrior, larger-than-life characters who needed a larger-than-life object to hold above their heads. Reggie Parks, a former wrestler turned belt maker, created that winged eagle design, and it remains the belt most commonly cited when fans argue about the greatest championship design in history.

The 1990s brought the Big Gold Belt, originally from NWA and WCW, featuring 24-karat gold, silver, diamonds, and rubies, a genuinely opulent object that looked like it belonged in a museum case. Then came the spinner, Cena’s spinner, which arrived in 2005 and did something no belt had done before: it became a product. Kids wanted replicas not because they idolized the championship lineage but because the belt itself was cool, in the same way a sneaker or a video game peripheral was cool. The customizable side plates introduced in 2013 pushed this further, allowing each new champion to stamp their own identity onto the physical object, making every title change feel like a genuine handover rather than just a storyline beat.

The People Who Actually Build Them

Creating a WWE Championship belt is not a factory operation. It is a craft practiced by a small number of artisans working out of workshops in the United States, and the knowledge passes between them the way apprenticeships work in watchmaking or leatherwork. Dave Millican is one of the primary belt makers working with WWE today, responsible for the WWE Championship, the World Heavyweight Championship, the Intercontinental Title, and the tag team titles among others. He learned his craft directly from Reggie Parks, the man who built the winged eagle, and credits Parks entirely for his credibility when he was starting out.

Millican works from a garage workshop, which tells you something important about the scale of this industry. There is no belt-making facility, no assembly line, no team of technicians running shifts. There is a craftsman, a set of specialized tools, and months of painstaking handwork. WWE contacts belt makers with a set of requirements, the two collaborate through sketches and revisions, and once a design is locked, the real work begins.

Clay, Tin, and Months of Handwork

The process starts with clay. The belt maker hand-sculpts a detailed three-dimensional model of each plate from soft clay, capturing every ridge, letter, and decorative element by hand. Once the clay dries and hardens, plaster is poured around it to create a negative mold. That plaster mold produces a soft metal model, typically aluminum, which the artist then spends considerable time refining, sharpening details, smoothing transitions, and preparing for the next stage. This refined metal model becomes the template for the final casting mold.

The actual plates are cast from molten tin. Liquid metal is poured into the mold, left to cool completely, and then pulled out in a state that is nowhere near finished. Freshly cast plates have rough edges, shallow details, and a surface that requires hours of hand-finishing using files, chisels, and specialized tools. Elements that cannot be achieved through casting alone, particularly sharp lettering and small sculptural details, are crafted as separate pieces and attached to the main plate, then refined by hand until they blend seamlessly with the surrounding surface.

Electroplating and the Gold Finish

Tin is structurally workable but visually unimpressive, so once the plates are refined, they go through electroplating. The plates are cleaned thoroughly to remove any residual metal shavings or surface contamination, then polished on a rotating buffing wheel until they shine. From there, they are submerged in an electrolyte solution while connected to an electrical circuit, and the current slowly deposits a layer of precious metal onto the surface. Most WWE belts receive a gold finish, though silver and rhodium are also used depending on the design requirements. For belts featuring multiple metal tones, different sections are masked during separate plating stages to create a two-tone effect.

After plating, three finishing techniques add the visual complexity that makes these objects so immediately striking. Etching applies a chemical to specific areas and then submerges the plate in an etching solution, creating textured patterns that contrast against the polished metal. Enamel painting involves applying thick enamel paint to designated sections and baking the plates to lock in a durable, colorful finish. Gemstone setting, the most labor-intensive of the three, has a jeweler attaching rubies, sapphires, diamonds, or crystals directly to molded cavities in the metal surface. The Crown Jewel Championships, the most expensive belts in WWE history, reportedly contain 50-karat diamonds and carry a value exceeding one million dollars. Champions are not permitted to take them home; they remain in Saudi Arabia, and winners receive rings instead.

Leather, Assembly, and the Finished Object

With the plates complete, attention moves to the leather strap that holds everything together. The belt maker hand-traces and cuts the strap from high-quality leather, dyes it to the required color (typically black, though the Universal Championship famously used red), then waxes and polishes it to a durable finish. An inner lining of spandex or felt is added for comfort against bare skin, all layers are stitched together, and the plates are secured using thick leather-working string or industrial-strength adhesive. A closing mechanism, either buckles or snap hooks depending on the design, is added, high-grade vinyl finishes the outer edges, and the inside is branded with both WWE’s logo and the belt maker’s own insignia before the whole thing is packed and shipped.

WWE maintains multiple copies of each belt design. HD belts are built specifically for television, engineered to catch light perfectly under arena conditions. Champions also receive separate travel belts for appearances, signings, and live events. According to Millican, when a new HD belt is produced or refurbished, the previous version gets demoted to road use, which explains the occasional moments when attentive fans spot a belt with slightly wrong plates or minor inconsistencies on broadcast. The pristine version simply did not make it to the venue in time.

WWE creates what it calls HD belts, versions built specifically to perform under television lighting and capture every engraved detail on camera, while champions carry separate travel belts to appearances and signings on the road. When a new HD belt is made, the previous one gets demoted to road duty, which explains the occasional glimpse of a belt with slightly wrong plates or an unfamiliar finish on a live broadcast. Even the logistics of managing these objects reflects how seriously WWE treats them as artifacts rather than accessories.

A replica belt sells at retail because fans understand instinctively that what they are buying is a piece of wrestling history in miniature, a connection to the moment their favorite wrestler finally hoisted the real thing overhead. That impulse makes complete sense when you understand what went into building the original: months of clay sculpting, metal casting, electroplating, gemstone setting, and leather work, all converging into an object that a 10-year-old sees on television and immediately understands means everything.

The post How Is a WWE Championship Belt Made? One Man’s Garage, $40,000, and a Handful of Artisans first appeared on Yanko Design.

Meta Is Turning Its Smart Glasses Into A Mass Surveillance Tool… And You Can’t Stop It

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If not Palantir, why Palantir-shaped??

Palantir builds spy tech for the CIA, DHS, and ICE. It aggregates data, maps your life, and tells governments who to watch. Meta is building something with the same bones. It’s called Name Tag, a facial recognition feature coming to Ray-Ban smart glasses that lets a wearer look at a stranger in public and have an AI identify them in real time, pulling their name and profile directly from Facebook and Instagram. The surveillance hardware is a $300 fashion accessory, the database was built by 3 billion people tagging photos for free, and the targets are anyone, anywhere, who never agreed to any of it.

A leaked internal memo from May 2025, obtained by The New York Times, laid out the full scope: the feature is planned for every pair of Meta’s glasses, from Ray-Bans to the Oakley Meta HSTN sports line. Meta’s official response was a practiced non-denial: “we’re still thinking through options and will take a thoughtful approach if and before we roll anything out.” Companies that aren’t building something just say they’re not building it. Meta is not saying that.

The Database Was Being Built Before the Glasses Existed

Facebook turned on automatic photo tagging in 2010 with zero opt-in, and for eleven years, every time you tagged a friend’s face in a photo, you were feeding their facial recognition model. When Meta “deleted” over a billion faceprints in 2021 under lawsuit pressure, they kept the photos. They kept the social graph. They kept the engineers who built the whole thing. Name Tag isn’t a new product concept; it’s a previously mothballed capability getting a second run, this time with a camera on your face instead of a server in Menlo Park.

Anyone with a public Instagram account is immediately a potential target (it’s not like making your account private makes you any safer), which covers hundreds of millions of people who signed up to share photos, not to be enrolled in a real-world biometric identification system. Remember Portal, Meta’s smart home display with a face-tracking camera? It launched in 2018 right in the middle of the Cambridge Analytica fallout, and consumers collectively declined to put a Facebook camera in their living room. Meta discontinued it by 2022. The lesson they apparently took wasn’t “don’t build surveillance hardware.” It was “make sure the camera comes in wearing someone else’s face.”

They Know Exactly How We’ll React

“We will launch during a dynamic political environment where many civil society groups that we would expect to attack us would have their resources focused on other concerns.” That’s a sentence directly from an official internal planning document from Meta’s Reality Labs, dated May 2025, reviewed by The New York Times. The company was explicitly planning to exploit civic chaos as a launch window, timing the rollout of a mass surveillance feature to coincide with another crisis-event that occupies our mind so we’re distracted. Sleight of hand, with a dash of corporate evil. There’s no ethical framework in which that sentence represents good-faith product development.

Their original rollout plan was to debut Name Tag at a conference for the blind, wrapping a mass-surveillance tool in the language of accessibility before expanding it to the general public. That plan was eventually shelved, but the thinking behind it is the more revealing part. The accessibility framing was a softening mechanism, a way to generate human-interest coverage before the obvious misuse cases took over the conversation. Privacy advocates, abuse charities, and civil liberties groups were going to come for this feature regardless. The strategy was never to address their concerns. It was to buy a news cycle of goodwill first.

Your Face Is Being Reviewed in a Nairobi Office Park Right Now

Swedish newspapers Svenska Dagbladet and Göteborgs-Posten tracked Meta’s data pipeline from Ray-Ban glasses worn in Western homes to a company called Sama, operating out of an office park in Nairobi, Kenya. Workers there are paid to watch footage captured by glasses users and label what they see, teaching Meta’s AI to understand and interpret the visual world. The footage includes people on the toilet, naked bodies, couples in bed, bank card details accidentally filmed, and intimate conversations being had by people who had no idea they were being recorded, let alone reviewed by a contractor on another continent.

Meta’s defense was to point at a clause buried in their terms of service permitting “manual (human)” review of AI interactions, which is technically accurate and practically worthless as a justification, because no person buying a pair of fashion-forward smart glasses understands that clause to mean workers in Kenya are watching them undress. The April 2025 privacy policy update for the glasses silently expanded Meta’s right to use all captured photos, videos, and audio for AI training, with no prominent notification to existing owners. A class action lawsuit filed in San Francisco federal court in March 2026 argues this constitutes consumer fraud, given that Meta’s own marketing described the glasses as “designed for privacy, controlled by you.” The UK’s Information Commissioner’s Office wrote to Meta characterizing the situation as “concerning,” which in British regulatory language lands somewhere between “deeply troubled” and “genuinely alarmed.”

$2.1 Billion in Fines and Still Going

The fine history reads like a repeat offender’s rap sheet. Meta paid $650 million to settle an Illinois class action over collecting facial geometry without consent through Facebook’s “Tag Suggestion” feature. They paid another $68.5 million for the same BIPA violation in 2023. In 2024, Texas extracted $1.4 billion from them for capturing biometric data on millions of Texans “for commercial purposes” without informed consent, with the lawsuit specifically alleging Meta was disclosing that data for profit. That’s over $2.1 billion in biometric privacy penalties across four years, all for variations of the same violation, against the same company, building the same technology.

None of it changed the product roadmap. The Texas settlement of $1.4 billion represents roughly one percent of Meta’s $134 billion in 2023 revenue. The Electronic Privacy Information Center has filed complaints with the FTC calling Name Tag a direct facilitator of “stalking, harassment, doxxing and worse.” The EU’s AI Act classifies real-time remote biometric identification in public spaces as high-risk AI and prohibits it for most commercial applications. The fines and the regulatory pressure are clearly baked into Meta’s planning rather than functioning as deterrents. They paid $2.1 billion to establish what a decade of biometric data collection actually costs, looked at that number next to their revenue, and decided it wasn’t a fine. It was an investment.

The Glasses Are Just the Beginning

Name Tag as currently designed still requires the wearer to deliberately trigger an identification query. The next product removes even that minimal friction. Internal documents describe “super sensing” glasses with always-on cameras and microphones that record continuously for the entire duration they’re worn, feeding an unbroken stream to an AI assistant that builds a fully searchable log of the wearer’s day. The surveillance model shifts from opt-in query to permanent ambient default. Every person who passes within the glasses’ field of view gets their face processed, regardless of whether they’ve opted out, regardless of whether they even know the technology exists.

The threat model was demonstrated in 2024 by two Harvard students, AnhPhu Nguyen and Caine Ardayfio, using nothing but current, available hardware. They connected Ray-Ban Meta Gen 2 glasses to PimEyes, a commercial facial recognition engine, alongside LLM data extraction tools, FastPeopleSearch, and Cloaked.com for social security lookups. Streaming the feed to Instagram Live, they identified strangers on the Boston subway and pulled names, home addresses, phone numbers, and social security numbers in seconds. They approached a woman on the street, told her they’d met at a Cambridge Community Foundation event, and she believed them. They told a female student her Atlanta home address and her parents’ names; she confirmed they were right. Name Tag doesn’t make this possible. It already is possible. Name Tag just makes it Meta’s official product.

What “Opt-Out” Actually Means

Meta’s proposed safeguards rely on limiting identification to connected contacts or public accounts, and offering an opt-out toggle buried in Instagram settings. The connected-contacts restriction doesn’t address the most statistically common danger. Stalkers, abusers, and harassers overwhelmingly target people they already know. Limiting the feature to existing connections doesn’t reduce the risk to the most vulnerable users; it focuses it on them. Domestic abuse charities in the UK raised this point directly, noting that abusers could use Name Tag to locate survivors who have relocated, changed their appearance, or created entirely new digital identities to stay safe.

The opt-out toggle is available to Instagram’s roughly 2 billion monthly active users, almost none of whom will encounter it organically. Privacy protections that require the potential victim to proactively locate and activate a setting are not privacy protections. They are liability documentation. Abuse survivors, journalists, political dissidents, undocumented individuals, people in witness protection: these are the people with the highest stakes, and also the people with the least bandwidth to hunt through app settings on the off chance that facial recognition has been added to a device they don’t even own. The toggle protects Meta in a courtroom. It protects its users in no meaningful sense at all.

We Were Free Labor All Along

Twenty years of tagging photos, liking posts, following accounts, and uploading selfies. Every interaction trained the model. Every tagged face sharpened the database. Meta framed all of it as self-expression and social connection, and it was, but it was also free labor on the world’s largest biometric mapping project. The glasses are the hardware layer that connects that digital registry to the physical world. The data collection phase is largely complete. The deployment phase is now.

Reddit ran the same playbook with text and nobody stopped them either. In early 2024, Reddit signed a $60 million-per-year deal with Google to license user-generated content for AI training, then struck a separate deal with OpenAI estimated at $70 million annually. Two decades of forum posts, niche expertise, personal advice, and community-built knowledge that users created for each other got packaged and sold to the highest bidder. Users built the database. Reddit sold it. The users got nothing except the knowledge that their words now live inside a model they don’t control. Meta’s version is identical in structure and more intimate in substance, because the asset being extracted isn’t something you typed. It’s your face, your home, and the faces of everyone in your immediate vicinity.

While all of this unfolds on the hardware and data side, Meta is simultaneously stripping privacy from the software side. End-to-end encryption for Instagram DMs dies on May 8, 2026. Meta’s stated justification is that “very few people” were using it, which is a direct consequence of never making it the default and never promoting it. After May 8, Meta retains full technical access to message content, which means any contractor, government request, or legal process with sufficient leverage can access it too. The feature was specifically extended to users in Ukraine and Russia during the war as a safety measure for people in genuine danger. Those users are now being told to download their chats before the cutoff. The facial recognition is the front door. The unencrypted message access is the unlocked safe. At some point the question stops being “is Meta building a surveillance company?” and starts being “why are we still acting like it isn’t one?”

The post Meta Is Turning Its Smart Glasses Into A Mass Surveillance Tool… And You Can’t Stop It first appeared on Yanko Design.

The $599 MacBook Neo is Shaking Up the PC Industry: 6 Best Alternatives

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Apple has never really done “affordable.” For decades, the cheapest way into the Mac ecosystem meant spending at least $999, and that was considered a deal. So when the company announced the MacBook Neo at $599, or $499 for students and educators, the reaction wasn’t just surprise. It was something closer to disbelief. This is the same Apple that charges $19 for a polishing cloth, and it just put a laptop on the shelf for less than most people’s monthly rent.

It’s not an accident or a moment of generosity. The MacBook Neo is a deliberate move into a market segment Apple has ignored for years: the budget laptop buyer. Students, first-time Mac users, families on tighter budgets. These are the people who’ve been defaulting to Chromebooks and cheap Windows machines, not because they preferred them, but because a Mac was simply out of reach. Apple just changed that math, and the PC industry is already scrambling to respond.

Designer: Apple

More Than a Fresh Coat of Paint

The Neo comes in four colors: blush, indigo, silver, and a sharp citrus yellow. The colors even extend to the Magic Keyboard in lighter shades and matching wallpapers, which is a level of cohesion you genuinely don’t see at this price point in Windows hardware. The aluminum enclosure weighs 2.7 pounds, and the 13-inch Liquid Retina display runs at 2408-by-1506 resolution with 500 nits of brightness, outpacing most competing devices in this segment by a considerable margin. Combine that with up to 16 hours of battery life, and the headline specs read like a mid-range laptop, not an entry-level one.

The chip underneath all of that is the A18 Pro, the same processor that powered the iPhone 16 Pro in 2024. That’s where the picture gets a bit more nuanced. It’s definitely more than enough for web browsing, document editing, streaming, casual photo editing, and AI tasks. What it isn’t is a creative workstation. This machine is fanless, silent, and cool-running, but it isn’t going to replace even a MacBook Air for serious video work or sustained heavy computation. Apple has been honest about that positioning, and the spec sheet backs it up.

There are also a few caveats beyond the silicon. There’s no backlit keyboard on the base $599 model, which feels like an odd omission in 2026. Fast charging isn’t supported either, with only a 20W USB-C adapter in the box. The connectivity is minimal: one USB 3 port (USB-C) and one USB 2 port (USB-C), the latter topping out at 480Mb/s, which is slow enough to matter if you regularly move large files. No Thunderbolt. No MagSafe. Touch ID is exclusive to the $699 model. These are deliberate subtractions, not oversights, designed to protect the MacBook Air’s value proposition while keeping the Neo’s cost down.

Road Once Traveled: Windows RT

Before getting too swept up in the novelty of the MacBook Neo, it’s worth remembering that the idea of an affordable, ARM-based portable computer aimed at everyday users isn’t new. Microsoft tried exactly this in 2012 with Windows RT, a version of Windows designed to run on ARM chips and released alongside the original Surface tablet. The pitch was appealing: a sleek, efficient, battery-friendly device that could handle the basics and connect to the broader Windows world.

The fact that it failed is pretty much part of history by now. The core problem wasn’t the hardware or even the concept: it was the software. Windows RT looked and felt like Windows but couldn’t run traditional Windows desktop applications. It was a watered-down experience wearing a familiar face, and users who expected full Windows compatibility found themselves stranded. The app ecosystem didn’t materialize fast enough, either, and Microsoft eventually abandoned the platform. Windows on ARM has continued in various forms since then, but it’s never fully shaken the baggage of that first failed attempt.

Apple, by contrast, spent years laying groundwork before making its ARM leap. When the company transitioned the entire Mac lineup to Apple Silicon starting in 2020, it didn’t ask developers to build for a new platform overnight. The Rosetta 2 translation layer handled legacy Intel apps smoothly from day one, and Apple had spent over a decade pushing developers toward modern APIs and frameworks through iOS. By the time the A18 Pro landed inside a $599 laptop, the software ecosystem was already there waiting for it. The MacBook Neo doesn’t run a restricted version of macOS. It runs full macOS Tahoe, with access to the same App Store and the same apps as any other Mac, and that is the fundamental difference that Microsoft was never able to bridge with Windows RT.

The best alternatives if the MacBook Neo isn’t for you

The MacBook Neo sets a new standard for what a $600 laptop can look and feel like. That said, it’s not the right machine for everyone. If you’re committed to Windows, need more RAM, prefer a larger display, or simply aren’t ready to switch ecosystems, there are some solid alternatives worth considering in the same price range.

Acer Swift Go 14 (SFG14-73)

The Acer Swift Go 14 is one of the more compelling Windows options at this price point, running on an Intel Core Ultra 5 processor with integrated Intel Arc graphics, 8GB of RAM, and a 512GB SSD. That’s double the storage of the base Neo for roughly the same $600 price. The bigger draw is the display: a 14-inch OLED panel at 2880×1800 resolution, which is genuinely excellent for a laptop in this category and makes the Swift Go a strong pick for anyone who consumes a lot of media.

Designer: Acer

The trade-offs can’t be ignored, though. Battery life comes in around 8.5 hours, which is significantly shorter than the Neo’s 16-hour rating, and it weighs about 2.87 pounds in a larger chassis. It’s also a somewhat older-gen model, and that sweet price tag is only available in select retailers. If you want a bigger, sharper screen and don’t mind carrying a charger more often, the Swift Go earns a serious look.

Lenovo IdeaPad Slim 3 (15″, AMD)

Lenovo’s IdeaPad Slim 5 punches above its price with a more generous hardware loadout than the Neo: an AMD Ryzen 5 8540 processor, 8GB of RAM, and 512GB of storage, all available around the $500 price point. Lenovo also tends to make the best keyboards in the budget Windows space, and this one continues that tradition.

Designer: Lenovo

Where it falls short is predictable. The display is a 15-inch 1920×1200 IPS panel, which is perfectly functional but a noticeable step down from the Neo’s Liquid Retina screen in terms of sharpness and color. The battery life is what you’d expect from a Windows laptop. It won’t make you smile when you pull it out of a bag the way the Neo will, but if raw specs-per-dollar is the priority, the IdeaPad Slim 3 is a difficult machine to argue against.

HP OmniBook 5 (BA1056NR)

HP’s OmniBook 5 positions itself as an entry-level everyday laptop with pricing that frequently dips below $650, giving it a clear edge over the Neo in pure cost. It runs on modest Intel hardware, comes with a generous serving of 16GB of RAM, and is built primarily for email, web browsing, document editing, and video calls, the exact workload profile Apple says the Neo is designed for. Battery life is rated respectably, and the keyboard and trackpad are comfortable enough for extended daily use.

Designer: HP

The honest version of this recommendation comes with a caveat: the OmniBook 5 doesn’t compete with the Neo on display quality, build materials, or software longevity. The screen is a standard 16-inch 1080p IPS panel in a plastic chassis, and it runs Windows on Intel Core 5 silicon, which is a much older generation than today’s selection. It makes sense as a pure budget play if the price tag is still a stretch, but going in with eyes open about what those savings cost you is important.

Acer Chromebook Plus Spin 714 (CP714-1H-54UB)

The Acer Chromebook Plus Spin 714 is one of the more capable Chromebooks available around the $530 mark with a discount ($699 in full), and it brings a feature the Neo completely lacks: a touchscreen. Running on an Intel Core Ultra 5 with 8GB of RAM and 256GB of storage, it matches the Neo’s base memory and storage configuration while adding 2-in-1 convertibility and a 14-inch IPS display at 1920×1200. For students, especially, the tent and tablet modes open up use cases that a standard clamshell laptop can’t cover.

Designer: Acer

The limitations are ChromeOS itself, which has narrowed the gap with full desktop operating systems considerably but still trails macOS and Windows for professional app compatibility. Battery life is advertised to be around 10 hours, shorter than the Neo but solid for a school day. At 3.21 lbs, it’s heavier and physically larger, and the display is a step behind the Neo in resolution and color quality. For someone already in the Google ecosystem, though, this is the sharpest Chromebook rival to the Neo in this price window.

Lenovo Chromebook Plus 14 (ChromeOS)

Lenovo’s Chromebook Plus 14 is the premium option in the ChromeOS space, and its headline feature is the display: a 14-inch 1920×1200 OLED panel with touchscreen support at a price of $749. For a Chromebook, that’s genuinely unusual hardware, and the screen quality puts it ahead of most of the Windows competition in this tier. It also supports Wi-Fi 7, runs on an Arm-based MediaTek Kompanio Ultra 910 chip with 16GB of RAM, and offers a build quality noticeably above the typical Chromebook standard.

Designer: Lenovo

The case for it over the Neo comes down to ecosystem preference. If Google Docs, YouTube, and Android apps cover your workflow, the Chromebook Plus 14 delivers a premium screen and a refined experience for less money than a MacBook Air. If you need desktop-class software, the ceiling becomes apparent quickly. ChromeOS has matured, but it still hits walls that macOS doesn’t. This is the Chromebook that makes you reconsider the category, not the one that makes you forget its limitations entirely.

Refurbished MacBook Air M1

It feels slightly odd to list an older Mac as an alternative to a newer Mac, but the refurbished MacBook Air M1 is worth the mention. Available through Apple’s certified refurbished store, third-party retailers, and resellers, the M1 Air frequently surfaces in the $600 to $700 range and represents a considerable step up from the Neo in several areas. The M1 chip is more capable than the A18 Pro for sustained workloads, it has MagSafe-era USB-C with Thunderbolt support, and it comes with 8 to 16GB of unified memory in the base configuration with a more mature, battle-tested macOS optimization story.

The catch is that you’re buying hardware from 2020, and Apple’s software support timeline means the M1 will eventually age out of macOS updates before a Neo purchased today will. For someone who wants macOS and a bit more headroom without stepping up to the $1,099 MacBook Air M5, the refurbished M1 is a pragmatic option rather than an inspired one. It gets the job done, but it doesn’t have the new colors, and the MacBook Neo, despite its compromises, is the more forward-looking machine.

Wake-up call

Affordable Windows laptops and Chromebooks have never been in short supply. The problem has always been that most of them require accepting significant compromises: dim displays, plastic chassis that creak, battery life that barely lasts a workday, or chips so underpowered that the experience degrades within a year of purchase. Many of the more appealing options in this segment come from lesser-known manufacturers, which brings its own concerns around software support and build reliability over time.

What the MacBook Neo does is reframe the question the PC industry has been comfortable not asking. ARM-based Windows laptops have existed for years, and the Snapdragon X series has made genuine progress, but Windows on ARM still hasn’t found the cultural moment that would turn it into a mainstream category. The Neo’s arrival and the reaction to it suggest that the market for a well-made, genuinely affordable computer aimed at students and everyday users is larger than the industry has been willing to address seriously. Apple just walked in and asked whether cheap and simple was enough, or whether those buyers might actually want something better.

The post The $599 MacBook Neo is Shaking Up the PC Industry: 6 Best Alternatives first appeared on Yanko Design.

Apple Finally Rounded the MacBook’s Corners After 18 Years

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For about 18 years, every aluminum MacBook has looked more or less the same. Silver. Angular. Quietly serious. There’s nothing wrong with that. Apple’s unibody aluminum design, introduced in October 2008 and carved from a single block of metal, was genuinely elegant and set the template for an entire industry. But it also retired something along the way: the idea that a Mac laptop could feel chosen rather than just defaulted to.

The MacBook Neo, announced March 4 and starting at just $599, is the first real crack in that template. It comes in four colors (blush, indigo, silver, and a yellow-green called citrus) with enclosure corners that are noticeably softer than any aluminum Mac in recent memory. Whether that adds up to a proper design statement or just smart positioning is worth thinking through.

Designer: Apple

What happened to Apple’s color confidence

iBook G3 Clamshell (courtesy of Wikipedia)

Apple’s fondness for color didn’t always live inside an iPhone. The iBook G3, launched in 1999, came in tangerine and blueberry, and later in indigo and key lime. It was rounded, slightly toy-like, and completely unapologetic about being a consumer product. When the aluminum unibody arrived in 2008, Apple traded that warmth for precision machining and sharp rectilinear edges. Right call for the MacBook Pro. Default for everything else, apparently, for nearly two decades.

The result was a color drought in aluminum Mac laptops that has lasted until now. Silver, space gray, midnight, starlight: all variations on the same mood of professional restraint. The Neo’s citrus and blush aren’t just options on a spec page. They’re a quiet admission that not every laptop buyer wants a device that looks like it belongs in a boardroom. For Apple, that’s actually not a small thing to say at the product level.

Two different stories about corners

M1 MacBook Pro (2021)

There’s a distinction worth making here, because “rounded corners” gets used loosely when describing the Neo. MacBook displays have had rounded screen corners since 2021, which is a display-level detail and nothing new. What’s different on the Neo is the chassis itself. The physical aluminum enclosure is softer at the edges and corners than any aluminum Mac before it, and Apple’s own press materials describe “soft, rounded corners” specifically in terms of how the device feels to hold and carry.

That’s a real shift in the design language. The 2008 unibody was celebrated for machined sharpness, corners you could feel were engineered. The Neo softens that deliberately. It’s not a revival of the iBook, and it’s not trying to be, but the instinct is similar: a consumer Mac that feels a little more like it belongs to you. The notch is also gone, making this the first notchless MacBook since 2020, which quietly tidies up the one thing that made recent Airs feel slightly unfinished.

The repairability angle is actually a design story too

One thing that got a little buried under the color conversation: the Neo is the most repairable Mac laptop in years, and that’s partly a design decision worth noting. Teardowns showed how the whole machine was disassembled in just a few minutes using standard Torx screws throughout. No tape, no adhesive, anywhere inside. That’s a first for a modern Mac. The USB-C ports, speakers, and headphone jack are all modular. The keyboard can be replaced on its own, without swapping the entire top case, which on the MacBook Air currently costs over $370 in parts.

The internal simplicity isn’t accidental. The A18 Pro chip runs so efficiently that the Neo needs no fan at all, which removes a whole layer of thermal engineering that usually clutters a laptop’s interior. The result is a cleaner, more logical internal layout. Whether Apple arrived here from genuine design philosophy or from regulatory pressure (the EU’s right-to-repair push has been building for years) is an open question, but the outcome is real either way.

What it doesn’t fix, and what might come next

It’s not all sunshine and rainbows, of course. The base model has 8GB of non-upgradable RAM, one USB-C port runs at USB 2.0 speeds, and there’s no backlit keyboard. These are calculated trade-offs for the price point, not mistakes, but they matter depending on what you actually need the machine for. And repairability, for all the justified enthusiasm, is still partial: the RAM and storage are fixed at purchase, just like every other current Mac.

Still, the Neo feels like Apple designing for a specific person it had previously ignored: someone who was never going to spend $1,000 on a MacBook Air and wasn’t particularly well served by anything else Apple made. The color, the softer form, the price, the clean internals, all of it points at the same person. What’s genuinely interesting is whether any of this travels upmarket. If a future MacBook Air gets a color story this confident, the Neo might end up looking less like an entry-level product and more like Apple quietly figuring out what comes next.

The post Apple Finally Rounded the MacBook’s Corners After 18 Years first appeared on Yanko Design.

iPhone 20 in 2027: All-Glass, Buttonless, and Highly Unlikely

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The iPhone turns 20 in 2027, and Apple apparently wants to throw a party that people will remember. Sources believe that the company is targeting a radical redesign for what will likely be called the iPhone 20, skipping “iPhone 19” the same way it jumped directly to the iPhone X back in 2017. More than just a naming trick, it came with the full-screen OLED design, Face ID, and the removal of the home button, a move that felt genuinely shocking at the time. The expectation building around the iPhone 20 is that history is supposed to repeat itself, only bigger.

The appetite is clearly there. Interest in bold Apple hardware has been riding high on the back of iPhone Fold rumors, and the search interest in “iPhone 20 design” has shot up by over 3,100% year-over-year. People are hungry for a leap, not an incremental shuffle. What Apple is reportedly planning, an all-glass unibody with no physical buttons and no visible cutouts anywhere on the device, is exactly the kind of leap that generates excitement. Whether it generates anything more than that is a genuinely open question.

Images courtesy of: AppleTrack

iPhone X (2017)

What it isn’t: an all-screen phone

Before the imagination runs completely wild, it helps to be specific about what “all-glass” is not. This is not a Xiaomi Mi Mix Alpha situation, where the display wraps entirely around the phone like a very expensive, very fragile bracelet. That concept, for all its visual drama, would introduce a cascade of problems: iOS and most apps are built on the assumption that the back of a phone is inert. Making the entire surface interactive requires a fundamental rethinking of how software handles accidental input, palm rejection, and basic navigation, none of which Apple appears to be pursuing here.

Designer: Xiaomi

The more useful comparison is the Vivo APEX from 2019, a concept phone that was genuinely all-glass and buttonless without wrapping the display around the chassis. The APEX had no physical buttons, no headphone jack, no visible ports, and shockingly, no front camera. It was definitely a striking object. It also never made it to retail, because striking objects and reliable everyday devices are not always the same thing.

Designer: vivo

What the rumors are actually saying

The picture assembled from various sources is fairly consistent in its broad strokes. The iPhone 20 is expected to arrive with a four-sided bending OLED display that curves around all edges, a fully glass chassis with no metal frame visible from the outside, camera lenses flush against the glass back with no raised rings or seams, and an under-display front camera with Face ID sensors also moved beneath the glass. Physical buttons disappear entirely, replaced by what Apple has internally codenamed “Project Bongo,” localized haptic zones that simulate a press through piezoelectric ceramics rather than a mechanical click.

Images courtesy of: AppleTrack

Apple has been laying this groundwork for years, whether deliberately or not. MagSafe removed the last port most people used regularly. The solid-state home button on the iPhone 7 trained a generation of users to accept a simulated click as the real thing. Touch ID lived in that fake button for years before Face ID made it irrelevant. Project Bongo itself has been in development since 2021, with the haptic button solution reportedly completing functional verification for the iPhone 20 last October. The staged rollout has already begun: under-display Face ID is expected to debut on the iPhone 18 Pro in 2026, a year before the full transformation arrives.

Why Apple might actually want this

The engineering case for an all-glass, buttonless phone is stronger than it might first appear, and it goes well beyond aesthetics. Glass transmits radio frequencies with far less attenuation than metal, which means that a fully glass chassis removes the need for antenna break lines, those small plastic interruptions visible on metal-framed iPhones. For 5G mmWave frequencies, which are particularly vulnerable to obstruction, that is a meaningful structural advantage, not a cosmetic one.

Physical buttons are also apertures, meaning every button cutout is a potential entry point for water, dust, and debris, not to mention a structural point of weakness. Solid-state haptic zones flush with a continuous glass surface create a fully sealed perimeter by default. And without springs, electrical contacts, or moving parts, the mechanical failure modes that eventually wear out every physical button simply do not apply. There is also a software dimension: a haptic surface can be reprogrammed. The same zone that acts as a volume button in one context can behave differently in a camera app, or respond to a half-press the way a DSLR shutter does. That interaction vocabulary does not exist on a physical button.

Images courtesy of: AppleTrack

The design coherence argument is worth taking seriously, too. iOS 26 introduced the Liquid Glass UI at WWDC 2025, with translucent menus, frosted panes, and depth-layered interfaces that read as software built to live inside a glass object. If the hardware catches up, the iPhone 20 would be the first Apple device where the material logic of the shell and the interface are genuinely continuous, rather than one imitating the other.

Why Apple will definitely not do it, at least not yet

The skepticism case is longer and, in several places, harder to argue around. Start with the glass itself. No glass smartphone has survived all kinds of real-world accidents unscathed, including the iPhone 16 Pro Max with Ceramic Shield 2. The current metal frame does real structural work; it absorbs and distributes impact energy in ways that glass cannot. A four-sided curved display that wraps around what used to be the frame zone eliminates that crumple zone entirely.

Thermal management is a less visible but equally serious issue. Aluminum conducts heat significantly better than glass. The metal frame in current iPhones is part of the thermal pathway, moving heat from the logic board outward. Glass is a poor conductor and a poor radiator, and with Apple Intelligence pushing sustained on-device AI inference, the thermal load is growing, not shrinking. Apple would need expanded vapor chambers or novel heat-bridge materials to compensate, none of which have been confirmed.

Then there is the under-display camera. Samsung introduced UDC technology with the Galaxy Z Fold3 in 2021 and used it through the Fold6. Image quality was consistently criticized across all four generations, and Samsung is now reportedly abandoning it for future foldables due to persistent optical and cost challenges. Apple is reportedly moving in the opposite direction, but with a twist. It might use the under-display camera primarily for Face ID’s infrared sensors rather than the selfie camera, which sidesteps the worst degradation but does not resolve long-term selfie quality under glass.

Designer: Samsung

Accessibility is a concern that gets less coverage than drop tests, but it definitely deserves more. Blind and visually impaired users rely on physically locatable controls as navigational anchors, such as the raised profile of a button. Flush haptic zones remove that landmark. There is also the “dead device” recovery problem: a bricked iPhone requires holding a specific physical button combination to enter recovery mode. Whether solid-state haptic buttons can operate at the firmware level, before iOS loads, has not been confirmed. Case and accessory compatibility adds another layer; a wraparound display that curves into what is currently the frame zone fundamentally changes how a protective case grips the device, since the element that used to grip the frame now grips the screen.

The human factor is harder to engineer than the glass

The technology story surrounding the iPhone 20 is genuinely fascinating, and some of it will almost certainly happen. Under-display Face ID on the iPhone 18 Pro is close enough to be treated as confirmed. The full vision, no buttons, no cutouts, glass everywhere, is a different question. Manufacturing challenge is described as “extraordinarily complex,” component manufacturers are on the fence, and the expected price point will likely exceed the current Pro Max tier. Those are not the conditions under which Apple tends to ship a complete reimagining all at once.

But the technical hurdles might not be the hardest part. People have strong, specific feelings about physical buttons in ways they do not always articulate until the buttons are gone. The haptic home button on the iPhone 7 worked well enough that most users stopped noticing it within weeks. Extending that same illusion across every tactile control point on the device, in cold weather, through a case, while the phone is vibrating with an incoming call, and across several years of daily use, is a different challenge than a single button in a fixed location. Whether that feels like liberation or a slow-building frustration might depend less on the engineering and more on the person holding it.

Images courtesy of: AppleTrack

The post iPhone 20 in 2027: All-Glass, Buttonless, and Highly Unlikely first appeared on Yanko Design.

Microsoft Broke the Only Thing That Actually Mattered

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Any tech nerd knows the unspoken contract that comes with being the only tech-literate person in the family. You get texts when someone’s laptop is slow, called over during the holidays to fix the router, and consulted every eighteen months when someone needs a new phone or computer. For years, the laptop question had a clean, confident answer: a Windows machine. Cheap entry points, massive software compatibility, games that actually run, no walled gardens, no ecosystem hostage situations, and enough flexibility that even a non-technical person could figure out the basics without feeling like they’d violated a terms of service agreement. But the last time someone asked me what laptop to get, I paused. For a good minute I asked myself, should I even recommend Windows anymore?

That pause is new, and it carries weight that no benchmark score or spec sheet can explain. The designated family tech person has historically been one of the most reliable organic distribution channels Windows ever had, recommending the same platform generation after generation because it worked, it was accessible, and there was nothing obviously better for normal people at a reasonable price. When that person hesitates, the platform has a problem. Microsoft built an empire on being the obvious, low-friction answer to the laptop question, and somewhere between Windows 10 and the Copilot era, they stopped protecting that position. And with Apple dropping a $599 MacBook just last week, that position seems even more in danger.

2024 CrowdStrike Outage

The OS that holds civilization together

Windows runs somewhere between 72 and 73 percent of the world’s desktops, and while that’s an impressive monopoly, it completely ignores the critical systems where Windows is actually even more prevalent and essential. Hospital admission systems, ATM networks, military command infrastructure, government offices, court systems, school networks, and banking operations across virtually every country on earth run on Windows. These institutions did not choose Windows out of preference; they are locked in through decades of infrastructure investment, software dependencies, and training costs that make switching systemically impractical at scale. The July 2024 CrowdStrike incident put a specific number on what this dependency looks like under pressure: one faulty content update to a single Windows security tool simultaneously bricked approximately 8.5 million machines, grounded over 8,500 flights globally, knocked hospital systems offline across multiple countries, and disabled 911 call centers across several US states. One third-party software layer, one bad update, and the operational skeleton of modern civic life visibly buckled.

That is the platform Microsoft has been treating as a vehicle for AI feature experiments. Recall, the AI tool Microsoft attempted to ship as part of Windows 11, worked by screenshotting the user’s screen every few seconds and storing those images locally to build a searchable timeline of everything they had ever done on the machine. Security researchers flagged it almost immediately as a catastrophic privacy liability: a permanent, silent, queryable record of every document, message, and webpage the screen had ever displayed. Microsoft paused the rollout after a fierce public backlash, but the revealing fact is that Recall cleared internal review in the first place. The teams approving that feature were not thinking about hospital clerks processing patient records, lawyers working with privileged communications, or government employees handling sensitive data. They were building a keynote demo.

The market is responding accordingly

Microsoft ended official Windows 10 support in October 2025, cutting off security patches for what was still the most widely used version of the OS. Months of upgrade campaigns, notification banners, and every available form of institutional pressure followed. The result: as of December 2025, Windows 10 sits at 44.68% market share and actually gained users after support ended, while Windows 11 dropped from 55.18% in October to 50.73% in December, shedding over four percentage points in two months while the officially dead OS clawed back ground. People are choosing to run a security-vulnerable, unsupported operating system rather than upgrade to the one Microsoft actively maintains, and that is not technophobia or inertia. It is a calculated judgment, made by millions of users independently, that the known risks of the old version beat the unknown risks of moving to the new one.

The TPM 2.0 hardware requirement blocked installation on millions of perfectly functional machines with no meaningful performance justification for everyday users, which meant the upgrade conversation started with resentment before it ever got to features. First-boot setup funnels new users toward a Microsoft account, with the offline bypass buried past the point where most non-technical people will ever find it. OneDrive integration sits deep enough in the OS that users regularly discover their Desktop files have been syncing to the cloud without understanding when or how they agreed to that. A fresh Windows 11 install in 2026 ships with TikTok, Instagram, Disney+, and a collection of Microsoft’s own unfinished apps pre-pinned to the Start menu, none of them arriving with any user consent. Copilot, which no consumer demand survey had identified as a priority, now appears in the OS sidebar, the taskbar, and since 2024, as a dedicated hardware key on new laptops, occupying real estate where a key with actual utility used to live.

Running alongside all of that is a separate update quality crisis that has been building its own track record. A January 2026 security update caused boot failures on certain Windows 11 machines, with Microsoft eventually tracing the issue to a botched December 2025 update that had left affected devices in what they diplomatically described as an “improper state.” An October 2025 security update broke VPN networking for enterprise users running OpenVPN and Cisco Secure Client, a bug that carried through the December patch cycle without a clean resolution. Security updates, the category Microsoft explicitly tells users they cannot afford to skip, became a threat to system stability in their own right. When the patch and the problem are indistinguishable from each other, the trust issue has moved well past inconvenience.

A modified version of a comic by Manu Cornet

Nadella is a great CEO. Just not for desktop operating systems.

Satya Nadella took Microsoft’s stock from roughly $35 in 2014 to over $400 at its peak, killed the Nokia disaster before it could fully metastasize, repositioned the entire company around cloud infrastructure, and placed an early bet on OpenAI when AI was still considered expensive academic theater. Azure’s consistent 30%-plus year-over-year growth commands complete executive attention and pulls the best engineering talent in the building toward it like gravity. By any honest standard corporate metric, Nadella’s Microsoft is a legitimate turnaround story, and the shareholder returns are not fabricated. But Nadella is a cloud and enterprise person at his core, and consumer Windows is a mature product in a saturated market, which in corporate strategy language translates cleanly to “managed asset.” The product that generates excitement gets the architects and the product visionaries; the one that just needs to keep working gets whoever is left after that allocation is done.

Paul Thurrott, who has covered Microsoft longer than most of the current Windows team has worked there, documented what that organizational reality looks like in practice. He wrote that Microsoft “relegated Windows to a backwater world led by B-teamers as the brightest minds at the company moved onto more lucrative career opportunities in Azure and AI.” That is an organizational autopsy, not editorial frustration, and it explains the product trajectory better than any feature changelog can. The talent followed the money and the excitement, and what remained shipped a redesigned Start menu nobody requested, a Copilot key nobody asked for, and a feature that the security community identified as dangerous within hours of its public announcement. The B-team does not ship bad decisions out of malice; they ship them because nobody senior enough to stop them is paying attention.

This pattern has a name

Nadella did not invent this behavioral tendency; it recurs reliably enough across modern tech to qualify as its own CEO archetype. Elon Musk built Tesla into the most culturally significant car company on earth, then spent the better part of two years fixated on Twitter, rebranding it to X, eliminating roughly 80% of staff, and torching advertiser relationships that took years to build, while Tesla’s stock dropped roughly 40% in the first quarter of 2025 alone. Now, he’s discontinued two Tesla models permanently while focusing efforts on an extremely polarizing AI chatbot. Mark Zuckerberg committed somewhere between $40 and $50 billion to the metaverse between 2021 and 2023, a virtual world that peaked at approximately 300,000 daily active users on Meta Horizon Worlds, before quietly pivoting to AI and becoming a public figure most associated with jiu-jitsu tournaments. The pattern is consistent enough to have a shape: a CEO builds something genuinely dominant, gets pulled toward the next big technological narrative, and hands the original product to the maintenance crew while energy and capital chase the new story. The difference with Nadella is the scale of what he handed off.

What separates his case from Musk and Zuckerberg is that he did not get distracted from Windows. He consciously stripped it for parts. Azure and AI received the budget, the senior talent pipeline, and the executive attention. Windows received the downstream output of that redistribution: mandatory AI integrations nobody requested, hardware specifications designed around Microsoft’s AI keynote roadmap rather than user needs, and a product direction driven more by investor narrative than by any user research that has ever been made public. The ordinary people buying $400 laptops are absorbing the cost of that sacrifice. The shareholders benefiting from Azure’s quarterly growth numbers are not.

Enshittification, documented

Cory Doctorow’s enshittification framework describes a platform lifecycle: start good for users, degrade toward serving business partners, then degrade further to extract maximum value for shareholders at everyone else’s expense. Windows 11 maps cleanly onto the third stage. The Start menu was rebuilt from scratch for the Windows 11 launch, stripping out Live Tiles that users had configured over years and replacing them with a static grid that is less functional and harder to customize, with no usability gain justifying the regression. Drag-and-drop onto taskbar applications was removed entirely at launch and only partially restored after months of sustained community pressure. Windows 11 originally shipped without the ability to right-click the taskbar to open Task Manager, a function that had existed since Windows NT 4.0 in 1996, and whose removal was not a redesign decision so much as evidence that nobody tested the product against the habits of actual users.

Control Panel, introduced in 1985, and the modern Settings app, first introduced in 2012 with Windows 8, still coexist in parallel inside Windows 11 in 2026. Basic system configuration requires jumping between both because neither is complete on its own, and the logic governing which settings live in which interface has never been consistently explained or resolved. Thirteen years of two competing tools sharing the same OS, and Microsoft never cared enough about the end-user experience to finish the job. This is not a legacy oversight or a technical debt problem that nobody knows how to solve. It is a choice, visible in its incompleteness, that reveals how little Windows product ownership has mattered to anyone with the authority to demand better.

Where this leaves ordinary people

Windows remains the most practical OS for most consumers, and that matters because it means there is no clean exit for the people being failed by it. MacOS is polished and stable but paternalistic by design: Apple creates deliberate friction around installing software from outside its ecosystem, the interface carries a genuine learning curve for anyone transitioning from Windows, and a MacBook Air M4 starts at $1,099 against a capable Windows laptop at around $400. Sure you can buy the $599 MacBook Neo too, but it’s genuinely less of a laptop and more of a netbook. The price difference between a regular MacBook and a similarly spec’d Windows laptop is not marginal in most of the world, particularly in the markets where Windows adoption is highest. Linux is genuinely improving year over year and deserves acknowledgment for it, but recommending Ubuntu to a non-technical family member invites more trouble than relief. The alternatives exist, but they serve a different user than the one who has to ask for a laptop recommendation.

A regular person can still buy an affordable Windows machine, install whatever software they want, run games across a hardware range that nothing else matches, plug in any peripheral without a compatibility interrogation, and operate without being treated as a security risk for opening a file from outside a curated store. Microsoft is eroding that value proposition methodically, one forced integration at a time, but the erosion has not yet reached full collapse. As of early 2026, reporting suggests Microsoft is pulling back from the AI-everywhere approach in Windows and refocusing on core stability, with Paul Thurrott describing the shift as “something happened,” which from a journalist who has spent years documenting Windows’ decline with the exhausted precision of someone watching a building settle incorrectly reads as cautious acknowledgment rather than optimism. Whether that represents genuine reprioritization or noise management ahead of a Windows 12 announcement nobody has officially confirmed is the question worth watching.

Rebuilding trust after Recall, after a year of destabilizing updates, after years of treating the world’s most consequential operating system as a demo environment for products the market never asked for, takes considerably longer than a few stable patches and a tonal reset in engineering blog posts. The millions of people still on Windows 10, knowingly running an unsupported OS past its expiration date, made a rational call: the known risks of yesterday’s software beat the unpredictable risks of an OS whose roadmap is driven by whatever Microsoft needs to show investors next quarter. That is not the normal frustration cycle where users grumble and eventually upgrade. It is a trust deficit built through years of consistent bad decisions, and a few good patch cycles will not close it. The easiest tech recommendation in the world has become a pause, and the people responsible for that pause are too deep in Azure dashboards to understand what it actually costs.

The post Microsoft Broke the Only Thing That Actually Mattered first appeared on Yanko Design.

Microsoft Broke the Only Thing That Actually Mattered

Posted on by

Any tech nerd knows the unspoken contract that comes with being the only tech-literate person in the family. You get texts when someone’s laptop is slow, called over during the holidays to fix the router, and consulted every eighteen months when someone needs a new phone or computer. For years, the laptop question had a clean, confident answer: a Windows machine. Cheap entry points, massive software compatibility, games that actually run, no walled gardens, no ecosystem hostage situations, and enough flexibility that even a non-technical person could figure out the basics without feeling like they’d violated a terms of service agreement. But the last time someone asked me what laptop to get, I paused. For a good minute I asked myself, should I even recommend Windows anymore?

That pause is new, and it carries weight that no benchmark score or spec sheet can explain. The designated family tech person has historically been one of the most reliable organic distribution channels Windows ever had, recommending the same platform generation after generation because it worked, it was accessible, and there was nothing obviously better for normal people at a reasonable price. When that person hesitates, the platform has a problem. Microsoft built an empire on being the obvious, low-friction answer to the laptop question, and somewhere between Windows 10 and the Copilot era, they stopped protecting that position. And with Apple dropping a $599 MacBook just last week, that position seems even more in danger.

2024 CrowdStrike Outage

The OS that holds civilization together

Windows runs somewhere between 72 and 73 percent of the world’s desktops, and while that’s an impressive monopoly, it completely ignores the critical systems where Windows is actually even more prevalent and essential. Hospital admission systems, ATM networks, military command infrastructure, government offices, court systems, school networks, and banking operations across virtually every country on earth run on Windows. These institutions did not choose Windows out of preference; they are locked in through decades of infrastructure investment, software dependencies, and training costs that make switching systemically impractical at scale. The July 2024 CrowdStrike incident put a specific number on what this dependency looks like under pressure: one faulty content update to a single Windows security tool simultaneously bricked approximately 8.5 million machines, grounded over 8,500 flights globally, knocked hospital systems offline across multiple countries, and disabled 911 call centers across several US states. One third-party software layer, one bad update, and the operational skeleton of modern civic life visibly buckled.

That is the platform Microsoft has been treating as a vehicle for AI feature experiments. Recall, the AI tool Microsoft attempted to ship as part of Windows 11, worked by screenshotting the user’s screen every few seconds and storing those images locally to build a searchable timeline of everything they had ever done on the machine. Security researchers flagged it almost immediately as a catastrophic privacy liability: a permanent, silent, queryable record of every document, message, and webpage the screen had ever displayed. Microsoft paused the rollout after a fierce public backlash, but the revealing fact is that Recall cleared internal review in the first place. The teams approving that feature were not thinking about hospital clerks processing patient records, lawyers working with privileged communications, or government employees handling sensitive data. They were building a keynote demo.

The market is responding accordingly

Microsoft ended official Windows 10 support in October 2025, cutting off security patches for what was still the most widely used version of the OS. Months of upgrade campaigns, notification banners, and every available form of institutional pressure followed. The result: as of December 2025, Windows 10 sits at 44.68% market share and actually gained users after support ended, while Windows 11 dropped from 55.18% in October to 50.73% in December, shedding over four percentage points in two months while the officially dead OS clawed back ground. People are choosing to run a security-vulnerable, unsupported operating system rather than upgrade to the one Microsoft actively maintains, and that is not technophobia or inertia. It is a calculated judgment, made by millions of users independently, that the known risks of the old version beat the unknown risks of moving to the new one.

The TPM 2.0 hardware requirement blocked installation on millions of perfectly functional machines with no meaningful performance justification for everyday users, which meant the upgrade conversation started with resentment before it ever got to features. First-boot setup funnels new users toward a Microsoft account, with the offline bypass buried past the point where most non-technical people will ever find it. OneDrive integration sits deep enough in the OS that users regularly discover their Desktop files have been syncing to the cloud without understanding when or how they agreed to that. A fresh Windows 11 install in 2026 ships with TikTok, Instagram, Disney+, and a collection of Microsoft’s own unfinished apps pre-pinned to the Start menu, none of them arriving with any user consent. Copilot, which no consumer demand survey had identified as a priority, now appears in the OS sidebar, the taskbar, and since 2024, as a dedicated hardware key on new laptops, occupying real estate where a key with actual utility used to live.

Running alongside all of that is a separate update quality crisis that has been building its own track record. A January 2026 security update caused boot failures on certain Windows 11 machines, with Microsoft eventually tracing the issue to a botched December 2025 update that had left affected devices in what they diplomatically described as an “improper state.” An October 2025 security update broke VPN networking for enterprise users running OpenVPN and Cisco Secure Client, a bug that carried through the December patch cycle without a clean resolution. Security updates, the category Microsoft explicitly tells users they cannot afford to skip, became a threat to system stability in their own right. When the patch and the problem are indistinguishable from each other, the trust issue has moved well past inconvenience.

A modified version of a comic by Manu Cornet

Nadella is a great CEO. Just not for desktop operating systems.

Satya Nadella took Microsoft’s stock from roughly $35 in 2014 to over $400 at its peak, killed the Nokia disaster before it could fully metastasize, repositioned the entire company around cloud infrastructure, and placed an early bet on OpenAI when AI was still considered expensive academic theater. Azure’s consistent 30%-plus year-over-year growth commands complete executive attention and pulls the best engineering talent in the building toward it like gravity. By any honest standard corporate metric, Nadella’s Microsoft is a legitimate turnaround story, and the shareholder returns are not fabricated. But Nadella is a cloud and enterprise person at his core, and consumer Windows is a mature product in a saturated market, which in corporate strategy language translates cleanly to “managed asset.” The product that generates excitement gets the architects and the product visionaries; the one that just needs to keep working gets whoever is left after that allocation is done.

Paul Thurrott, who has covered Microsoft longer than most of the current Windows team has worked there, documented what that organizational reality looks like in practice. He wrote that Microsoft “relegated Windows to a backwater world led by B-teamers as the brightest minds at the company moved onto more lucrative career opportunities in Azure and AI.” That is an organizational autopsy, not editorial frustration, and it explains the product trajectory better than any feature changelog can. The talent followed the money and the excitement, and what remained shipped a redesigned Start menu nobody requested, a Copilot key nobody asked for, and a feature that the security community identified as dangerous within hours of its public announcement. The B-team does not ship bad decisions out of malice; they ship them because nobody senior enough to stop them is paying attention.

This pattern has a name

Nadella did not invent this behavioral tendency; it recurs reliably enough across modern tech to qualify as its own CEO archetype. Elon Musk built Tesla into the most culturally significant car company on earth, then spent the better part of two years fixated on Twitter, rebranding it to X, eliminating roughly 80% of staff, and torching advertiser relationships that took years to build, while Tesla’s stock dropped roughly 40% in the first quarter of 2025 alone. Now, he’s discontinued two Tesla models permanently while focusing efforts on an extremely polarizing AI chatbot. Mark Zuckerberg committed somewhere between $40 and $50 billion to the metaverse between 2021 and 2023, a virtual world that peaked at approximately 300,000 daily active users on Meta Horizon Worlds, before quietly pivoting to AI and becoming a public figure most associated with jiu-jitsu tournaments. The pattern is consistent enough to have a shape: a CEO builds something genuinely dominant, gets pulled toward the next big technological narrative, and hands the original product to the maintenance crew while energy and capital chase the new story. The difference with Nadella is the scale of what he handed off.

What separates his case from Musk and Zuckerberg is that he did not get distracted from Windows. He consciously stripped it for parts. Azure and AI received the budget, the senior talent pipeline, and the executive attention. Windows received the downstream output of that redistribution: mandatory AI integrations nobody requested, hardware specifications designed around Microsoft’s AI keynote roadmap rather than user needs, and a product direction driven more by investor narrative than by any user research that has ever been made public. The ordinary people buying $400 laptops are absorbing the cost of that sacrifice. The shareholders benefiting from Azure’s quarterly growth numbers are not.

Enshittification, documented

Cory Doctorow’s enshittification framework describes a platform lifecycle: start good for users, degrade toward serving business partners, then degrade further to extract maximum value for shareholders at everyone else’s expense. Windows 11 maps cleanly onto the third stage. The Start menu was rebuilt from scratch for the Windows 11 launch, stripping out Live Tiles that users had configured over years and replacing them with a static grid that is less functional and harder to customize, with no usability gain justifying the regression. Drag-and-drop onto taskbar applications was removed entirely at launch and only partially restored after months of sustained community pressure. Windows 11 originally shipped without the ability to right-click the taskbar to open Task Manager, a function that had existed since Windows NT 4.0 in 1996, and whose removal was not a redesign decision so much as evidence that nobody tested the product against the habits of actual users.

Control Panel, introduced in 1985, and the modern Settings app, first introduced in 2012 with Windows 8, still coexist in parallel inside Windows 11 in 2026. Basic system configuration requires jumping between both because neither is complete on its own, and the logic governing which settings live in which interface has never been consistently explained or resolved. Thirteen years of two competing tools sharing the same OS, and Microsoft never cared enough about the end-user experience to finish the job. This is not a legacy oversight or a technical debt problem that nobody knows how to solve. It is a choice, visible in its incompleteness, that reveals how little Windows product ownership has mattered to anyone with the authority to demand better.

Where this leaves ordinary people

Windows remains the most practical OS for most consumers, and that matters because it means there is no clean exit for the people being failed by it. MacOS is polished and stable but paternalistic by design: Apple creates deliberate friction around installing software from outside its ecosystem, the interface carries a genuine learning curve for anyone transitioning from Windows, and a MacBook Air M4 starts at $1,099 against a capable Windows laptop at around $400. Sure you can buy the $599 MacBook Neo too, but it’s genuinely less of a laptop and more of a netbook. The price difference between a regular MacBook and a similarly spec’d Windows laptop is not marginal in most of the world, particularly in the markets where Windows adoption is highest. Linux is genuinely improving year over year and deserves acknowledgment for it, but recommending Ubuntu to a non-technical family member invites more trouble than relief. The alternatives exist, but they serve a different user than the one who has to ask for a laptop recommendation.

A regular person can still buy an affordable Windows machine, install whatever software they want, run games across a hardware range that nothing else matches, plug in any peripheral without a compatibility interrogation, and operate without being treated as a security risk for opening a file from outside a curated store. Microsoft is eroding that value proposition methodically, one forced integration at a time, but the erosion has not yet reached full collapse. As of early 2026, reporting suggests Microsoft is pulling back from the AI-everywhere approach in Windows and refocusing on core stability, with Paul Thurrott describing the shift as “something happened,” which from a journalist who has spent years documenting Windows’ decline with the exhausted precision of someone watching a building settle incorrectly reads as cautious acknowledgment rather than optimism. Whether that represents genuine reprioritization or noise management ahead of a Windows 12 announcement nobody has officially confirmed is the question worth watching.

Rebuilding trust after Recall, after a year of destabilizing updates, after years of treating the world’s most consequential operating system as a demo environment for products the market never asked for, takes considerably longer than a few stable patches and a tonal reset in engineering blog posts. The millions of people still on Windows 10, knowingly running an unsupported OS past its expiration date, made a rational call: the known risks of yesterday’s software beat the unpredictable risks of an OS whose roadmap is driven by whatever Microsoft needs to show investors next quarter. That is not the normal frustration cycle where users grumble and eventually upgrade. It is a trust deficit built through years of consistent bad decisions, and a few good patch cycles will not close it. The easiest tech recommendation in the world has become a pause, and the people responsible for that pause are too deep in Azure dashboards to understand what it actually costs.

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Your Personal Free Netflix and other Top 5 Tech you Absolutely Need in 2026

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Last year I put together a list of products everyone absolutely needed to own in 2025. It included basic stuff, AirTags, GaN chargers, and even some slightly complex gadgets like NAS devices to help you cut the cord on cloud storage subscriptions. This year’s list expands on the same philosophy from last year – make life easier, cheaper, and faster. Here are 5 pieces of tech you need to consider owning in 2026, they’re on the bleeding edge of tech now, but I assume will become mainstream in a decade. However, if you want to stay ahead of the curve, consider adopting them now!

The list is short but sweet – it includes AI recorders/notetakers, translator buds that do a way better job than the AirPods, personal AQI monitors, travel routers that make connecting to dubious airport and hotel WiFi networks much easier, and finally (my grand pick for 2026) a personal media server that helps you actually own movies instead of paying Netflix or Hulu or Paramount a monthly fee that they seem to increase every year without batting an eyelid.

1. AI Notetakers: Your Second Brain That Actually Shows Up

There is a very real advantage to having a dedicated AI notetaker that is not your phone. Phones are distraction machines; they are notifications, doomscrolling, unsolicited ads, and “sorry, I just need to reply to this Slack” all rolled into one. A device like Plaud Note, Comulytic, Mobvoi’s TicNote or a Notta‑powered recorder does one thing: it listens (and it remembers what it listens). You hit a physical button, drop it on the table, and forget about it. Later, the audio is cleaned up, transcribed, summarized, and tagged without you babysitting the process. That separation alone changes how you behave in meetings and interviews. You stop half‑typing notes while someone is talking and instead stay present, knowing you will get a clean transcript and a decent summary afterward.

The other big win is what happens after the recording. Tools like Plaud, Notta, and similar AI‑first platforms are not just dumping a raw audio file into your storage; they are turning it into something you can actually work with. Meetings become bullet‑point action lists, interviews turn into structured quotes you can drop into drafts, and keynotes morph into highlight reels and to‑do items. Compare that to your phone’s stock voice recorder, where everything is just “Recording 032.m4a” in a long, unlabeled list. No speaker separation, no smart search, no summaries, no automatic organization. Dedicated AI notetakers treat audio as input to a workflow, not a dead file. And once you have used one a few times for client calls or field interviews, going back to a generic phone app feels like going from a modern IDE back to Notepad.

2. Translator Earbuds: When You Actually Need To Talk To People

Apple adding Live Translation to AirPods is very on‑brand: take a niche idea, wrap it in a clean UI, and ship it as a feature most people will try once in a while. It is genuinely handy if you and the other person both live inside the Apple ecosystem, and you are somewhere with good connectivity. But at the end of the day, AirPods are music‑first earbuds that happen to do translation on the side. Brands like Vasco, Viaim, and Timekettle flips that completely. Timekettle products like the M3, WT2 Edge, and W4 are built as translation devices first, earbuds second. The hardware, the app, and the interaction modes are all tuned for one job: two‑way, face‑to‑face conversation that does not feel like you are dictating into Google Translate.

You see the difference the minute you try to use them in the real world. Timekettle lets both people wear an earbud and just talk, with the system handling two‑way interpretation in near real time. Even Vasco, which secured our award at CES 2025, offers incredible translation features with the added ability to clone your voice using AI. There are specific modes for sitting across a café table, walking side by side, or listening to an announcement, and you can preload offline language packs so you are not stranded the moment you lose data. That matters when you are in a noisy street market, on a factory floor, or in a client meeting where “sorry, can you repeat that for the app” gets old fast. AirPods’ live translation is clever, but it is still bolted onto a general‑purpose audio product, with limited languages and workflows that quietly assume ideal conditions. Dedicated translator earbuds are what you pack when you know you are going to be operating in another language for days at a stretch; AirPods translation is what you pull out when you are already there and hoping the feature is good enough.

3. Personal Air Monitors: The Little Box That Calls Out Bad Air

A personal air quality monitor is very different from the big purifier that sits in one corner of your living room. This is the pocketable version: a small, battery‑powered sensor that tracks things like CO₂, particulates, VOCs, temperature, and humidity, and comes with you everywhere. Think of the same mindset behind something like Goveelife or uHoo’s indoor monitors, but shrunk down into a device you can toss in a bag or park on your desk. The moment you start carrying one, patterns jump out. That “3 p.m. crash” in your home office often lines up perfectly with CO₂ quietly creeping past the point where your brain stops firing properly. The subway line that always gives you a headache is not just “crowded and stressful,” it is a mix of stale air and fine dust. Your favorite café might have great coffee and terrible ventilation, while the boring chain across the street quietly nails fresh air and lower CO₂.

Where this becomes essential is when you pair it with travel and health decisions. Instead of vaguely checking a city‑wide AQI number, you get hyper‑local readings: the actual air in your Airbnb bedroom, that underground bar, that coworking space with sealed windows. A personal monitor can be the thing that tells you “open a window now,” “today is an N95 day,” or “maybe do not work six hours straight in this meeting room.” It is not a glamorous gadget, but it quietly moves you from guessing to measuring. In a world of wildfire smoke, construction dust, packed trains, and increasingly sealed buildings, that shift feels very 2026: less “trust the vibes,” more “trust the numbers in your pocket.”

4. Travel Routers: Bring Your Own Internet, Not Just Your Own Laptop

TCL and Asus quietly made one of the most important travel gadgets last year: routers built to live in your bag instead of under your TV. On the surface they look like yet another little plastic box with antennas, but the use case is very different from the router you got from your ISP. These are “BYO infrastructure” for people who work, stream, and store their lives online. You plug them into sketchy hotel Ethernet or join them to the random café Wi‑Fi, and they spin up your own private, password‑protected network for your laptop, phone, handheld console, and whatever else you are carrying. Instead of each device logging into “Hotel_WiFi_3” separately and fighting through captive portals, everything just connects to your SSID, with your own password, your own settings, and your own rules.

The VPN side is where they really earn a place in a 2026 kit. A good travel router can automatically tunnel all your traffic through a VPN or back to your home network, so every device behind it inherits that protection without you installing clients and certificates on each one. That means you can sit on airport Wi‑Fi and still safely access your media server at home, your NAS, your work tools, or region‑locked services, all as if you were on your own couch. For digital nomads and frequent flyers, it also solves a bunch of annoying edge cases: game consoles and streaming sticks that hate captive portals, devices that do not support VPNs natively, hotel networks that limit the number of devices per room. The travel router becomes the one “client” the hotel sees, while you hang a whole personal LAN off the back of it. It is not a glamorous product, but once you have had a week where your entire setup rides on that one little box, it is hard to go back to trusting whatever router the hotel happened to bolt to the ceiling.

5. Personal Media Servers: Owning Your Movies In A World That Hates Ownership

The idea of “buying” a movie used to be straightforward. You paid for a DVD or Blu‑ray, you got a disc, and that disc was yours until it got scratched to death or you moved house and lost it. You could watch it a thousand times, lend it to a friend, rip it for convenience, whatever. The streaming era quietly rewrote that deal. You are not buying movies anymore, you are renting access. A title lives on Netflix or Max or whatever for a while, then licensing changes, mergers happen, some accountant decides to write it off, and suddenly your favorite film or show just does not exist in your catalog. You can chase it across services, stacking subscriptions like trading cards, but that gets expensive very fast, and you are still at the mercy of contracts you never see.

A personal media server is the underdog rebellion against that. If you already have a NAS, you are basically one weekend away from rolling your own “Netflix” with something like Plex, Jellyfin, or Emby sitting on top. The workflow is not rocket science: buy discs, rip them, store the files on your NAS, let the media server scrape metadata and artwork, and suddenly you have a slick, searchable library that shows up on your TV, laptop, phone, or tablet just like a streaming app. The difference is that nothing disappears because a studio changed its mind. You decide what lives there, how long it stays, what version you keep, and who gets access. You can share that library with parents or siblings across the country without running into “password sharing crackdown” nonsense, and you can watch your stuff in a cabin with terrible internet because it is all local. It is the same basic promise we had with physical media, just updated for a world where your screen is no longer tethered to a disc player.

Now, the awkward bit: yes, pirating content is illegal. That is the line, and it is worth stating clearly. At the same time, the industry has created a situation where it is technically legal to charge you repeatedly for non‑ownership, while making entire catalogs vanish, region‑locking films behind arbitrary borders, and punishing you for sharing an account with your own family. When a bidding war over something like Warner Bros Discovery means one or two mega‑streamers get even more control over what exists where and for how long, it is hard not to see why people fall back on “if buying is not owning, piracy is not stealing” as a coping mechanism. I am not here to tell you what to do with torrents, but I will say this: a personal media server built around content you actually own is one of the few sane, future‑proof ways to make sure the movies and shows you care about are still watchable ten years from now. In a landscape that keeps trending toward bigger monopolies and weaker ownership, that box in the corner of your house starts to look less like a nerd toy and more like self‑defense.

The post Your Personal Free Netflix and other Top 5 Tech you Absolutely Need in 2026 first appeared on Yanko Design.

Did Ferrari And Jony Ive Just Build The ‘Apple Car’?

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Five years after Jony Ive left Apple, and two years after Apple killed Project Titan, we finally know what the Apple Car’s interior *could* have looked like. It just happens to have a prancing horse on the steering wheel instead of a bitten apple.

The Ferrari Luce, revealed last week in San Francisco, is a transplant of Apple’s design language into automotive form. Everything about this interior, from the E-ink key fob to the OLED dials to the obsessive material purity, carries the unmistakable signature of Apple’s design peak from 2015 to 2019, when Ive still occupied his Cupertino office and the car project remained alive.

The Apple DNA is Everywhere

Walk through the components and the Apple DNA becomes impossible to ignore. The key fob magnetically docks into the center console and changes color via E-ink display. This is MagSafe technology meets Apple Watch complications, translated into a car key. The center screen features an analog clock that transforms into a chronograph and compass with the press of two buttons. Pull up any image of Apple Watch faces and the interaction model is identical.

The toggle switches and knobs scattered throughout the cabin represent the physical interface philosophy Ive has been refining since the original iMac. The Digital Crown on the Apple Watch, the mute switch on the iPhone, the volume controls on the HomePod. These are the same careful considerations about how humans interact with objects through touch and rotation. The OLED binnacle behind the steering wheel uses a parallax effect to create depth perception, the same technology that made the iPhone X’s face recognition possible, now applied to gauge clusters.

Then there’s the material palette: recycled aluminum with a microscopic anodized texture, Corning glass surfaces, leather in muted tan. This is the 2017 iPhone X material story. This is the unibody MacBook recipe. This is every premium Apple product from the past decade, reassembled into automotive architecture.

Wait, Is This the Same Jony Ive?

Consider what Ive said at the reveal: “It’s bizarre and lazy to assume the interface should be digital if the power source is electric.”

This is the man who killed the headphone jack. Who removed every port from the MacBook. Who spent twenty years eliminating physical buttons, physical connections, physical everything. And now he’s arguing that physical controls matter? That tactility is essential? That you can’t just solve everything with a touchscreen?

Maybe the context really does change everything. A phone lives in your pocket. You can look at it. A car moves at 200 kilometers per hour. Looking away kills people. Or maybe Ive has simply evolved. Perhaps LoveFrom represents a different philosophy than Apple did, one less concerned with relentless minimalism and more interested in appropriate solutions. Or perhaps this is who Ive always was, and Apple’s commercial pressures pushed him toward deletion when his instincts wanted refinement.

The Luce interior suggests that physical interfaces weren’t the enemy. Bad physical interfaces were. Give Ive the freedom to perfect a toggle switch, to make a dial that clicks with precision, to create a button that feels inevitable, and he’ll choose physical every time. The question is whether we’re seeing growth or contradiction.

The Timeline is ‘Interesting’

Apple started Project Titan in 2014. By 2016, Ive had become increasingly involved as the project shifted from full autonomy toward driver-focused experiences. He left Apple in 2019 but reportedly continued consulting on the car. In 2024, Apple abandoned the project entirely. During those years, Bloomberg reported that the Apple Car was supposed to feature premium materials, minimalist interiors, physical controls prioritized over touchscreens, and a “living room on wheels” concept.

Here’s what actually happened: Ive leaves Apple in 2019 and forms LoveFrom. Two years later, in 2021, Ferrari announces the partnership. That means conversations started immediately after his departure, possibly before. Ive spent a decade developing car interior concepts at a company with unlimited resources. Then he got to actually build one at a different company with unlimited resources and, crucially, manufacturing capability that Apple never developed.

My guess is Ferrari didn’t hire LoveFrom for an overhaul. They hired them for battle-tested thinking that never shipped.

Why Ferrari Said Yes

From Ferrari’s perspective, the logic is clear. They’ve never built an electric vehicle. Their customer base is deeply skeptical of electrification. They need to signal that the Luce represents something genuinely different, something beyond an electrified 296 GTB. So they hire the two most famous industrial designers on Earth, who happen to have spent years thinking about this exact problem at a different technology giant.

It’s outsourcing credibility as much as design. When people inevitably say “that doesn’t look like a Ferrari,” Ferrari can point to LoveFrom and say “well, exactly.” They’ve purchased permission to break from tradition by hiring people with no Ferrari tradition to break from. The prancing horse gives LoveFrom legitimacy in automotive circles. LoveFrom gives Ferrari legitimacy in technology circles. It’s a perfect exchange.

But the question remains: did Ferrari want Ive’s vision, or did they want Ive’s brand? Because what they received feels unmistakably like Apple-thinking while wearing a Ferrari cap.

The May Reveal Will Answer Everything

The real test arrives in May when Ferrari reveals the exterior. Right now we’ve only seen the interior, which is LoveFrom’s natural domain: screens, materials, ergonomics, spatial relationships. The exterior is different. It has to work in a Maranello showroom next to a 12Cilindri and an SF90. It has to look fast while standing still. It has to carry seventy-nine years of design language forward into an electric future.

Can Ive do that? Has he ever designed anything with that kind of visual aggression? His career has been defined by approachability, by objects that invite touch, by forms that recede rather than announce themselves. Ferraris don’t recede. They dominate spaces. They demand attention. If the exterior looks like an Apple product in May, then this really could be what the Apple Car might have become. If it looks genuinely Ferrari, then maybe LoveFrom understands they serve the brand rather than the reverse.

What This Tells Us About the Car That Never Was

The Luce interior reveals something bittersweet about the Apple Car that never was. This is the closest we’ll get to seeing what that vision might have looked like. But it also proves why Apple was probably right to kill the project. It took Ferrari, a company with seventy-nine years of automotive manufacturing experience, five years and presumably nine figures to turn Ive’s concepts into reality. And they still don’t know if customers will accept it. Imagine Apple attempting this from scratch, competing with Tesla on price, managing recalls and service networks and dealer relationships.

The Luce interior is stunning. It’s also a monument to why the Apple Car would have most likely been an operational nightmare, given that Apple isn’t an automotive company.

The irony is perfect: Jony Ive finally got to build his car. He just needed Ferrari to do the hard part.

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