Following on from my comment in the February issue of DW, I thought it worthwhile to spend a few moments contemplating just how much, or how little, companies (as well as individuals) can learn from the history books. Thankfully, major health scares as per the current coronavirus pandemic, are few and far between. And organisations might do well to spend a little time, after we have weathered the storm, thinking about the future, in terms of the human aspect of their business. Yes, AI and robots are, we hope, immune to illness, but humans are still a vital part of any organisation, and large scale illness is something that might just need a bit more planning for in the future. At least as part of a business continuity/disaster recovery plan, where the emphasis tends to be on the machines, not the humans.

When Claire Bell became pregnant she paid for a test that would indicate whether the baby had Down's Syndrome - and agreed to be screened for some other rare conditions at the same time. Not long afterwards, writes the BBC's Charlotte Hayward, she received what appeared to be terrible news. For five years, Claire Bell's husband was treated for two types of cancer. When it finally came to an end the couple decided to try having a baby through IVF, using some sperm her husband had had frozen and stored before he had chemotherapy. On the first round, at the age of 41, she became pregnant - and felt incredibly lucky. "It was this miraculous pregnancy," she says.

Parked outside a warehouse by the Allegheny River was Uber's vision of the future: 14 Ford Fusions, each mounted with conspicuous cameras, antennae and sensors. A lumpy lidar unit, which uses light to map its surroundings, spun atop each car's roof like a high-tech propeller hat. But I was about to get into a car that drives itself. Style was the least of my worries. This fleet of geekmobiles, clearly marked with Uber's logo, will be deployed Wednesday as part of a test that will let Pittsburgh customers hail a self-driving car.

Of all the possibilities that might give pause concerning self-driving cars, here's one you might not have considered: politeness. Monday, experimental white Ford Fusion sedans, their roofs bristling with sensors, drove themselves down curvy streets, obeyed stop signs and traffic lights, braked at the right times and made left-hand turns while a Ford driver sat at the wheel, never touching the controls. At one point, a polite human being, waiting by the curb in the crosswalk, tried to wave the car through with a "no, you go first," look on his face. The car, programmed to stop for people in a crosswalk, didn't know what to do. So it just sat there. From a safety perspective, that was proper.