What Happened to Your Face? How the human countenance became something to study, edit, optimize, and scan. The physiognomists promised that your character could be read from your features. Certain forms of facial-recognition technology have revived that old fantasy in digital form. Several months ago, my partner and I bought an apartment in South London. Our previous home was a rental in which, for reasons best known to the landlord, there were mirrors everywhere. The bathroom had two; there was one outside on the terrace; in the bedroom, mirrored panels stretched across a twenty-foot-long wall. On moving day, we realized that we had a problem: the new apartment was mirror-free, and because we'd been so spoiled we weren't bringing one of our own. We spent a few days filling our drafty rooms, decanting books, building furniture, and dressing every morning without seeing ourselves in profile. It was a couple of weeks before we bought a simple mirror, wooden and round, to hang above the bathroom sink. By then, I joked, we didn't recognize ourselves.

"The Infinity Machine," "If This Be Magic," "While We Were Waiting," and "Coyoteland." In 2010, at the age of thirty-four, he co-founded the A.I. startup DeepMind to pursue this vision. Since then, the company's creations have solved painfully difficult problems in fields from mathematics to computational biology. One of its programs produced a solution to the so-called protein-folding problem, representing a dramatic advance in the science of drug discovery and bringing Hassabis a Nobel Prize. Mallaby, a longtime financial journalist, is a nimble storyteller, and his portrait of one of the single-minded personalities plunging the world into an uncertain future is also an engaging drama of discovery.

Are Humanoid Robots Ready to Be Deployed? Neo and a dozen other robots with human forms are scheduled to hit the market. "The same robot that can land a backflip might not be able to walk up a flight of stairs," a researcher said. On a recent sunny day in Silicon Valley, I visited the industrial headquarters of 1X Technologies. Security was tight, so I had to put a sticker over my cellphone's camera and talk my way out of signing an N.D.A. before I was brought into an enormous space to meet Neo, the company's home robot. Neo stands five feet six and has no facial features except for two black cameras in place of eyes. The robot is a humanoid--its design is inspired by the human form--and its proportions are a blend of those of the median American male and those of the median American female. But Neo has no skin. Instead, it wears a beige nylon turtleneck bodysuit, gloves, and padded shoes over a see-through carapace. Under that is a skeleton made up of more than a hundred whizzing motors and cordlike artificial tendons that control Neo's limbs. Neo's cozy, minimalist aesthetic allows it to blend into the background. If it served me an espresso at a café, I'm not certain I would look up from my phone. The robot weighs just sixty-six pounds, and I was able to pick it up in a bridal carry. It communicates through a speaker in its chest, using several different voices; the default one is in a calm but authoritative masculine register, an A.I.-modulated mixture of several voice actors. Neo can talk, listen, and respond to commands.

Most romantic reality TV would have us believe that dating is about getting married, or simply being chosen. In romance, Tolstoy's aphorism about the family is reversed. All unhappy couples are alike, and all happy couples are happy in their own way. Happiness in a couple is a private and fathomless world, a far cry from the mere shared sensibility of the happy family; we can only make fun of the impish, impenetrable languages of other couples, which exclude us. Yet we all know what it is to be unhappy in love.

His new museum, Dataland, is a joyful monument to the technology. Is he a visionary, or Silicon Valley's court painter? Refik Anadol said, as the escalator carried us downward. "We are entering the dream of the machine." Space-age music blared night-club-loud as pictures of birds, plants, and flowers cascaded down the walls. This array was a small sample of the half-billion images--and the hundred thousand hours of audio, including birdsong, rain, and even silence--on which Anadol has trained the Large Nature Model, an A.I. model that powers "Machine Dreams: Rainforest," Dataland's inaugural show. The pictures swooped around and beneath us like a cloud of starlings, and an earthy, slightly metallic smell emanated from the diffusers we wore around our necks, which, along with a biometric wristband, each Dataland visitor receives upon arrival.

Who Is the Real Kevin Warsh? Before the new Fed chairman got the job, he intimated that the central bank could cut interest rates, but last week he assumed the role of an inflation hawk. Kevin Warsh, the Republican financier who recently took over as the chairman of the Federal Reserve, holds economic views that could, kindly, be described as adaptable. Last summer, he said that the Fed had committed "the greatest mistake in macroeconomic policy in forty-five years" by allowing inflation to surge post- . This statement marked out Warsh as an inflation hawk, but late last year, after his name had surfaced as a possible candidate to succeed Jerome Powell as chair of the central bank, Warsh publicly argued that A.I. could generate big gains in productivity and be "structurally disinflationary."

The race--whose candidates include Micah Lasher, Alex Bores, George Conway, and Jack Schlossberg--is at once glitzy, confusing, and uninspiring. Alex Bores is one of many candidates in the hotly contested race for New York's Twelfth Congressional district. A good seat in Congress can be hard to find, and difficult to get up from. The average district--and there are four hundred and thirty-five of them--is roughly the size of Wales, or New Jersey. New York's Twelfth District, which spans the Upper East Side, the Upper West Side, midtown, and Chelsea, is one of the richest, smallest, and most solidly Democratic districts in the country. It has the most people with college degrees and is in the ninety-fifth percentile for members of the Silent Generation. After its incumbent, Jerry Nadler, who has been in Congress since 1992, announced his retirement last year, the race to fill his seat has also become one of the most contested.

Is Vladimir Putin Finally Feeling Pressure? The Russian President is facing growing domestic discontent after a series of successful attacks by the Ukrainian Army, including a major attack on Moscow. The war in Ukraine, which not long ago seemed to be turning in favor of Vladimir Putin's invading Russian Army, appears to have undergone another reversal. Thanks in part to its drone campaign, the Ukrainians have, according to some analysts, " turned the tide," putting pressure on Putin to potentially accept a ceasefire in the coming months. At the same time, there have been bubbles of discontent forming within Russia, over the cost of the war and government crackdowns on internet access. To understand what might be happening in Russia, and how the Putin regime might respond, I recently e-mailed several rounds of questions to Tatiana Stanovaya, a senior fellow at the Carnegie Russia Eurasia Center, and the founder of the political analysis organization R.Politik. Our conversation, edited for length and clarity, is below.

The boom-and-bust cycle has always been a feature of capitalism, and--capturing as it does the human traits of creativity, hope, greed,, anxiety, and panic--it always will be. Creativity gives rise to technological progress and transformative inventions, which provide a new driving force for the economy and a focal point for investors. Today, we are living through another speculative boom. This time the transformative invention is, of course, A.I., and last week's SpaceX I.P.O. While Elon Musk's creation is an impressive rocket-and-satellite company, the stunning $1.78-trillion valuation of the I.P.O. was largely based on its ambitions to build A.I. data centers in space, which remain largely untested .

The great German philosopher, who died in March, understood how much depended on a principled public sphere. Habermas emerged from the uncompromising Frankfurt School, but his work was considerably less fatalistic. You wake up and brace yourself for the barrage of toxic gibberish that constitutes the modern public sphere. Your e-mail is overrun with spam, scams, and smut. There are voice mails from no one about nothing. A glance at the news reveals that the President is continuing to spew lies and obscenities; that a trillionaire is peddling white-supremacist propaganda on a social-media platform he owns; that a chart-topping musical artist is praising Hitler, or apologizing for praising Hitler, or praising Hitler once again. Publications from the on down employ clickbait headlines that treat you like a starving rat in a Pavlovian experiment. A.I. systems simulate the experience of talking to an arrogant ten-year-old boy who knows far less than he thinks he does. When pressed, the chatbots admit that they cannot "naturally understand human morality, dignity, culture, or meaning." It all adds up to a continuous discursive tinnitus--a buzz of random, fake, stupid, sinister chatter that nobody wants and nobody can stop. The person who should have been best able to explain how we got here was the great German philosopher Jürgen Habermas, who illuminated how a feisty, principled public sphere is integral to democracy. But Habermas died in March, at the age of ninety-six, and, although he remained active until his final months, commenting on Ukraine, Gaza, and Eurobonds, he struggled to understand the turn history had taken. As a teen-ager in 1945, he had witnessed American soldiers enter his home town of Gummersbach, near Cologne, carrying messages of freedom and openness. Eight decades later, he watched American voters choose a leader who had advertised his fascistic bent in blood-and-soil rhetoric, fantasies of punitive violence, and a taste for bombastic architectural kitsch.