2026-04-13 23:48:28
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In an industry that doesn’t stand still, Stanford’s AI Index, an annual roundup of key results and trends, is a chance to take a breath. (It’s a marathon, not a sprint, after all.)
This year’s report, which dropped today, is full of striking stats. A lot of the value comes from having numbers to back up gut feelings you might already have, such as the sense that the US is gunning harder for AI than everyone else: It hosts 5,427 data centers (and counting). That’s more than 10 times as many as any other country.
There’s also a reminder that the hardware supply chain the AI industry relies on has some major choke points. Here’s perhaps the most remarkable fact: “A single company, TSMC, fabricates almost every leading AI chip, making the global AI hardware supply chain dependent on one foundry in Taiwan.” One foundry! That’s just wild.
But the main takeaway I have from the 2026 AI Index is that the state of AI right now is shot through with inconsistencies. As my colleague Michelle Kim put it today in her piece about the report: “If you’re following AI news, you’re probably getting whiplash. AI is a gold rush. AI is a bubble. AI is taking your job. AI can’t even read a clock.” (The Stanford report notes that Google DeepMind’s top reasoning model, Gemini Deep Think, scored a gold medal in the International Math Olympiad but is unable to read analog clocks half the time.)
Michelle does a great job covering the report’s highlights. But I wanted to dwell on a question that I can’t shake. Why is it so hard to know exactly what’s going on in AI right now?
The widest gap seems to be between experts and non-experts. “AI experts and the general public view the technology’s trajectory very differently,” the authors of the AI Index write. “Assessing AI’s impact on jobs, 73% of U.S. experts are positive, compared with only 23% of the public, a 50 percentage point gap. Similar divides emerge with respect to the economy and medical care.”
That’s a huge gap. What’s going on? What do experts know that the public doesn’t? (“Experts” here means US-based researchers who took part in AI conferences in 2023 and 2024.)
I suspect part of what’s going on is that experts and non-experts base their views on very different experiences. “The degree to which you are awed by AI is perfectly correlated with how much you use AI to code,” a software developer posted on X the other day. Maybe that’s tongue-in-cheek, but there’s definitely something to it.
The latest models from the top labs are now better than ever at producing code. Because technical tasks like coding have right or wrong results, it is easier to train models to do them, compared with tasks that are more open-ended. What’s more, models that can code are proving to be profitable, so model makers are throwing resources at improving them.
This means that people who use those tools for coding or other technical work are experiencing this technology at its best. Outside of those use cases, you get more of a mixed bag. LLMs still make dumb mistakes. This phenomenon has become known as the “jagged frontier”: Models are very good at doing some things and less good at others.
The influential AI researcher Andrej Karpathy also had some thoughts. “Judging by my [timeline] there is a growing gap in understanding of AI capability,” he wrote in reply to that X post. He noted that power users (read: people who use LLMs for coding, math, or research) not only keep up to date with the latest models but will often pay $200 a month for the best versions. “The recent improvements in these domains as of this year have been nothing short of staggering,” he continued.
Because LLMs are still improving fast, someone who pays to use Claude Code will in effect be using a different technology from someone who tried using the free version of Claude to plan a wedding six months ago. Those two groups are speaking past each other.
Where does that leave us? I think there are two realities. Yes, AI is far better than a lot of people realize. And yes, it is still pretty bad at a lot of stuff that a lot of people care about (and it may stay that way). Anyone making bets about the future on either side should bear that in mind.
2026-04-13 21:00:00
If you’re following AI news, you’re probably getting whiplash. AI is a gold rush. AI is a bubble. AI is taking your job. AI can’t even read a clock. The 2026 AI Index from Stanford University’s Institute for Human-Centered Artificial Intelligence, AI’s annual report card, comes out today and cuts through some of that noise.
Despite predictions that AI development may hit a wall, the report says that the top models just keep getting better. People are adopting AI faster than they picked up the personal computer or the internet. AI companies are generating revenue faster than companies in any previous technology boom, but they’re also spending hundreds of billions of dollars on data centers and chips. The benchmarks designed to measure AI, the policies meant to govern it, and the job market are struggling to keep up. AI is sprinting, and the rest of us are trying to find our shoes.
All that speed comes at a cost. AI data centers around the world can now draw 29.6 gigawatts of power, enough to run the entire state of New York at peak demand. Annual water use from running OpenAI’s GPT-4o alone may exceed the drinking water needs of 12 million people. At the same time, the supply chain for chips is alarmingly fragile. The US hosts most of the world’s AI data centers, and one company in Taiwan, TSMC, fabricates almost every leading AI chip.
The data reveals a technology evolving faster than we can manage. Here’s a look at some of the key points from this year’s report.
In a long, heated race with immense geopolitical stakes, the US and China are almost neck and neck on AI model performance, according to Arena, a community-driven ranking platform that allows users to compare the outputs of large language models on identical prompts. In early 2023, OpenAI had a lead with ChatGPT, but this gap narrowed in 2024 as Google and Anthropic released their own models. In February 2025, R1, an AI model built by the Chinese lab DeepSeek, briefly matched the top US model, ChatGPT. As of March 2026, Anthropic leads, trailed closely by xAI, Google, and OpenAI. Chinese models like DeepSeek and Alibaba lag only modestly. With the best AI models separated in the rankings by razor-thin margins, they’re now competing on cost, reliability, and real-world usefulness.
The index notes that the US and China have different AI advantages. While the US has more powerful AI models, more capital, and an estimated 5,427 data centers (more than 10 times as many as any other country), China leads in AI research publications, patents, and robotics.
As competition intensifies, companies like OpenAI, Anthropic, and Google no longer disclose their training code, parameter counts, or data-set sizes. “We don’t know a lot of things about predicting model behaviors,” says Yolanda Gil, a computer scientist at the University of Southern California who coauthored the report. This lack of transparency makes it difficult for independent researchers to study how to make AI models safer, she says.
Despite predictions that development will plateau, AI models keep getting better and better. By some measures, they now meet or exceed the performance of human experts on tests that aim to measure PhD-level science, math, and language understanding. SWE-bench Verified, a software engineering benchmark for AI models, saw top scores jump from around 60% in 2024 to almost 100% in 2025. In 2025, an AI system produced a weather forecast on its own.
“I am stunned that this technology continues to improve, and it’s just not plateauing in any way,” says Gil.
However, AI still struggles in plenty of other areas. Because the models learn by processing enormous amounts of text and images rather than by experiencing the physical world, AI exhibits “jagged intelligence.” Robots are still in their early days and succeed in only 12% of household tasks. Self-driving cars are farther along: Waymos are now roaming across five US cities, and Baidu’s Apollo Go vehicles are shuttling riders around in China. AI is also expanding into professional domains like law and finance, but no model dominates the field yet.
These reports of progress should be taken with a grain of salt. The benchmarks designed to track AI progress are struggling to keep up as models quickly blow past their ceilings, the Stanford report says. Some are poorly constructed—a popular benchmark that tests a model’s math abilities has a 42% error rate. Others can be gamed: when models are trained on benchmark test data, for example, they can learn to score well without getting smarter.
AI companies are also sharing less about how their models are trained, and independent testing sometimes tells a different story from what they report. “A lot of companies are not releasing how their models do in certain benchmarks, particularly the responsible-AI benchmarks,” says Gil. “The absence of how your model is doing on a benchmark maybe says something.”
Within three years of going mainstream, AI is now used by more than half of people around the world, a rate of adoption faster than the personal computer or the internet. An estimated 88% of organizations now use AI, and four in five university students use it.
It’s early days for deployment, and AI’s impact on jobs is hard to measure. Still, some studies suggest AI is beginning to affect young workers in certain professions. According to a 2025 study by economists at Stanford, employment for software developers aged 22 to 25 has fallen nearly 20% since 2022. The decline might not be pinned on AI alone, as broader macroeconomic conditions could be to blame, but AI appears to be playing a part.
Employers say that hiring may continue to tighten. According to a 2025 survey conducted by McKinsey & Company, a third of organizations expect AI to shrink their workforce in the coming year, particularly in service and supply chain operations and software engineering. AI is boosting productivity by 14% in customer service and 26% in software development, according to research cited by the index, but such gains are not seen in tasks requiring more judgment. Overall, it’s still too early to understand the bigger economic impact of AI.
Around the world, people feel both optimistic and anxious about AI: 59% of people think that it will provide more benefits than drawbacks, while 52% say that it makes them nervous, according to an Ipsos survey cited in the index.
Notably, experts and the public see the future of AI very differently, according to a Pew survey. The biggest gap is around the future of work: While 73% of experts think that AI will have a positive impact on how people do their jobs, only 23% of the American public thinks so. Experts are also more optimistic than the public about AI’s impact on education and medical care, but they agree that AI will hurt elections and personal relationships.
Among all countries surveyed, Americans trust their government least to regulate AI appropriately, according to another Ipsos survey. More Americans worry federal AI regulation won’t go far enough than worry it will go too far.
Governments around the world are struggling to regulate AI, but there were some minor successes last year. The EU AI Act’s first prohibitions, which ban the use of AI in predictive policing and emotion recognition, took effect. Japan, South Korea, and Italy also passed national AI laws. Meanwhile, the US federal government moved toward deregulation, with President Trump issuing an executive order seeking to handcuff states from regulating AI.
Despite this federal action, state legislatures in the US passed a record 150 AI-related bills. California enacted landmark legislation, including SB 53, which mandates safety disclosures and whistleblower protections for developers of AI models. New York passed the RAISE Act, requiring AI companies to publish safety protocols and report critical safety incidents.
But for all the legislative activity, Gil says, regulation is running behind the technology because we don’t really understand how it works. “Governments are cautious to regulate AI because … we don’t understand many things very well,” she says. “We don’t have a good handle on those systems.”
2026-04-13 20:10:00
This is today’s edition of The Download, our weekday newsletter that provides a daily dose of what’s going on in the world of technology.
How do humans make decisions? The question has been on Uri Maoz’s mind since he read an article in his early twenties suggesting that… maybe they didn’t.
Had he even had a choice about whether to read that article in the first place? How would he ever know if he was truly responsible for making any decisions? “After that, there was no turning back,” says Maoz, now a professor of computational neuroscience at Chapman University.
Today, Maoz is a central figure in efforts to understand how desires and beliefs turn into actions. He’s also uncovered new wrinkles in the debate. Read the full story on his discoveries.
—Sarah Scoles
This article is from the next issue of our print magazine, packed with stories all about nature. Subscribe now to read the full thing when it lands on Wednesday, April 22.
Moderna, the covid-19 shot maker, is using its mRNA technology to destroy tumors through a very, very promising technique known as a cancer vacc—
“It’s not a vaccine,” a spokesperson for Merck said before the V-word could be uttered. “It’s an individualized neoantigen therapy.”
Oh, but it is a vaccine, and it looks like a possible breakthrough. But it’s been rebranded to avoid vaccine fearmongering—and not everyone is happy about the word game. Read the full story.
—Antonio Regalado
This article is from The Checkup, our weekly newsletter covering the latest in biotech. Sign up to receive it in your inbox every Thursday.
The must reads
I’ve combed the internet to find you today’s most fun/important/scary/fascinating stories about technology.
1 Sam Altman’s home has been attacked twice in two days
A driver reportedly fired a gun at his property on Sunday. (SF Standard)
+ A Molotov cocktail was thrown at his home on Friday. (NBC News)
+ The suspect wrote essays warning AI would end humanity. (SF Chronicle)
+ The attacks expose growing divides in opinion on AI. (Axios)
2 AI weapons are ushering in a new kind of arms race
Countries are racing to deploy AI in military systems. (NYT $)
+ The Pentagon wants AI firms to train on classified data. (MIT Technology Review)
+ Where OpenAI’s technology could show up in Iran. (MIT Technology Review)
3 Artemis II was a success
Astronauts did an array of experiments that will be crucial to the future of both the program itself and deep-space missions. (Guardian)
+ But next steps for the Artemis missions are uncertain. (Ars Technica)
4 OpenAI and Elon Musk are heading toward a massive courtroom clash
The company has accused Musk of a “legal ambush.” (Engadget)
+ He’s lost a streak of cases ahead of the showdown. (FT $)
5 AI job fears in China are fueling a viral “ability harvester” project
It claims to turn human skills into AI tools. (SCMP)
+ Hustlers are cashing in on China’s OpenClaw AI craze. (MIT Technology Review)
6 Governments are hiding information about the Iran war online
Through restrictions on internet access and satellite imagery. (NPR)
7 Apple is testing four smart glasses that could rival Meta Ray-Bans
They’re part of a broader wearables strategy. (Bloomberg $)
8 Meta is building an AI version of Mark Zuckerberg to interact with staff
It’s being trained on his mannerisms, voice, and statements. (FT $)
9 Anthropic is asking Christian leaders for guidance
It’s seeing advice on building moral machines. (WP $)
+ AI agents have spread their own religions. (MIT Technology Review)
10 A dancer with MND is performing again through an avatar
Her brainwaves powered the digital dancer. (BBC)
Quote of the day
—Artemis II astronaut Christina Koch describes her view of Earth from space, the Guardian reports.
One more thing
When Kenneth Wehr started managing the Greenlandic-language version of Wikipedia, he discovered that almost every article had been written by people who didn’t speak the language.
A growing number of them had been copy-pasted into Wikipedia from machine translators—and were riddled with elementary mistakes. This is beginning to cause a wicked problem.
AI systems, from Google Translate to ChatGPT, learn new languages by scraping text from Wikipedia. This could push the most vulnerable languages on Earth toward the precipice.
Read the full story on what happens when AI gets trained on junk pages.
—Jacob Judah
We can still have nice things
A place for comfort, fun and distraction to brighten up your day. (Got any ideas? Drop me a line.)
+ Hungary’s next health minister can throw some serious shapes.
+ Here’s a welcome route to an AI-free Google search.
+ Movievia eschews endless scrolling to find the right film for your needs
+ A photography trick has turned a giant glacier into a tiny, living diorama.
2026-04-13 18:00:00
Uri Maoz loved doing his human research, back when he was getting his PhD. He was studying a very specific topic in computational neuroscience: how the brain instructs our arms to move and how our gray matter in turn perceives that motion.
Then his professor asked him to deliver an undergrad lecture. Maoz assumed his boss was going to tell him exactly what to do, or at least throw some PowerPoint slides his way. But no. Maoz had free rein to teach anything, as long as it was relevant to the students. “I could have gone to human brain augmentation,” he says. “Cyborgs or whatever.”
Yet that admittedly fun and borderline sci-fi topic wasn’t what popped, unbidden, into his mind. His idea, he recalls with excitement: “What neuroscience has to say about the question of free will!”
How—or whether—humans make decisions (like, say, about what to discuss in an undergrad lecture) had been on his mind since he’d read an article in his early twenties suggesting that … maybe they didn’t. This question might naturally beget others: Had he even had a choice about whether to read that article in the first place? How would he ever know if he was responsible for making decisions in his life or if he just had the illusion of control?
“After that, there was no turning back,” says Maoz, now a professor at Chapman University, in California. He finished his PhD work in human movement, but afterward he scooted further up the neural chain to find out how desires and beliefs turn into actions—from raising an arm to choosing someone to ask out to dinner on a Friday night.
Today, Maoz is a central figure in the attempt to (sort of, maybe) answer how that neural chain functions. His research has since overturned and reinterpreted canonical neuroscience studies and united the straight-scientific and philosophical sides of the free-will question. More than anything, though, he’s succeeded in uncovering new wrinkles in the debate.
The concept of free will seems straightforward, but it doesn’t have a universally accepted definition. One intuitive notion is that it’s the ability to make our own decisions and take our own actions on purpose—that we control our lives. But physicists might ask if the universe is deterministic, following a preordained path, and if human choices can still happen in such a universe.
That’s a question for them, Maoz says. What neuroscientists can do is figure out what’s going on in the brain when people make decisions. “And that’s what we’re trying to do: to understand how our wishes, desires, beliefs, turn into actions,” he says.
By the time Maoz had finished his PhD, in 2008, neuroscientific research into the question had been going on for decades. One foundational study from the 1960s showed that a hand movement—something a person seemingly decides to do—was preceded by the appearance in the brain of an electrical signal called the “readiness potential.”
Building on that result, in the 1980s a neuroscientist named Benjamin Libet did the experiment that had first piqued Maoz’s interest in the topic—one that many, until recently, interpreted as a death knell for the concept of free will.
An electrical impulse in our brains can shed only so much light on whether we truly are the architects of our own fates.
“He just had people sit there, and whenever they feel like it, they would go like this,” says Maoz, wiggling his wrist. Libet would then ask where a rotating dot was on a screen when they first had the urge to flick. He found that the readiness potential appeared not only before they moved their hand but before they reported having the urge to move—or, in Libet’s interpretation, before they knew they were going to move.
Studies since have confirmed the observation and shown that the readiness potential appears a second or two—and maybe, fMRI implies, up to 10 seconds—before participants report making a conscious decision. “It suggests we are essentially passengers in a self-driving car,” says Maoz. “The unconscious biological machine does all the steering, but our conscious mind sits in the driver’s seat and takes the credit.”
Maoz initially approached his own research with variations on Libet’s experiments. He worked with epilepsy patients who already had electrodes in their brains, for clinical purposes, and was able to predict which hand they would raise before they raised it.
Still, some of the Libet-inspired studies people were doing nagged at him. “All these results were about completely arbitrary decisions. Raise your hand whenever you feel like it,” he says. “Why? No reason.” A decision like that is quite different from, say, choosing to break up with your partner. Try telling someone they weren’t in the driver’s seat for that.
The field wasn’t looking at meaningful decisions, he says—the ones that actually set the course of lives.
Maoz began pulling in philosophers to help guide his approach. They would challenge him to confront the semantic differences between things like intention, desire, and urge. Neuroscientists have tended to lump those concepts together, but philosophers tease them apart: Desire is a want that doesn’t necessarily progress toward an action; urge carries implications of immediacy and compulsion; and intention involves committing to a plan. (Maoz has come to focus specifically on intention—including, recently, the potential intentions of AI.)
In 2017, he organized his first in a series of free-will conferences, drawing many autonomy-interested philosophers. “Thank you so much for coming,” he recalls saying at the opening of the meeting. “As if you had a choice.” One day, the crew took an excursion out on a lake. As the group munched on shrimp, someone joked that they hoped the boat didn’t sink, because everybody in the field would die.
The comment didn’t make Maoz feel existential dread. Instead, he figured that if the whole field was already there, why not lasso them all into writing a research grant? “He just thinks what should be the next step and just has a very good ability to just make it happen,” says Liad Mudrik, a neuroscientist at Tel Aviv University and a frequent collaborator.
That ability is special among scientists, says Chapman colleague Aaron Schurger, with whom Maoz co-directs the Laboratory for Understanding Consciousness, Intentions, and Decision-Making (LUCID, appropriately). “I really think that Uri is kind of at the nexus of this field right now because he’s really, really good at bringing people together around these big ideas,” he says.
Maoz has recently been making progress on one of the big ideas that have consistently occupied his working hours: how trivial and significant decisions play out differently in the brain. In collaborations with Mudrik, he’s parsed the neural difference between picking and choosing—their terms for arbitrary decisions and those that change your life and tug on your emotions.
Readiness potential? Their measurements didn’t clock it ahead of choices. In 2019, Maoz and a crew published a paper measuring the electrical activity in people’s brains as they pressed a key to choose one of two nonprofits to donate $1,000 to—for real, with actual dollars. Then the researchers compared that activity with what they saw when the same group pressed a key at random to donate $500 each to two nonprofits. The team saw the readiness potential in the arbitrary decision, but not for the $1,000 question.
Libet’s result, they concluded, doesn’t apply to the important stuff, which means readiness potential might not actually be a sign that your brain is making a choice before you’re aware of it. “If Libet would have chosen to focus on deliberate decisions, then maybe the entire debate about neuroscience proving free will to be an illusion would have been spared from us,” Mudrik says.
Maoz’s research has spurred others to reinterpret Libet’s work. It’s “enriched my thought process a great deal,” says Bianca Ivanof, a psychologist whose dissertation scrutinized Libet’s methods. They turn out to identify readiness potential at different times depending on how the rotating-dot setup is designed, complicating the ability to compare and interpret results.
Maoz has also continued to gather data on the subject. Last year, for example, he used an EEG to measure electrical signals in people’s brains as they got ready to press a keyboard space bar. At random moments, he interrupted their preparations with an audible tone and asked them about their intentions. He saw no connection between the readiness potential and whether or not they were planning to tap the key—evidence that the potential doesn’t represent the buildup of either conscious or unconscious plans. The team did see a signal, though, in a different part of the brain when people said they were preparing to move.
So … that’s free will? Sadly, Maoz would be compelled to say Well, not exactly. An electrical impulse in our brains can shed only so much light on whether we truly are the architects of our own fates. And maybe the confusing data from neurons is actually the point. “I don’t think it is a yes-or-no question,” Maoz says. Maybe our less meaningful choices aren’t mindfully made but big ones are; maybe we have the conscious power to change an intended action, but only if our brains are in a particular state.
Neuroscientists likely can’t figure out, on their own, if free will exists. But they can, Maoz says, parse how semantically distinct decision-making forces—desires, urges, intentions, wishes, beliefs—manifest in our brains and become actions. “That is something that we are making progress on,” he says, “and I think that that’s going to help us understand what we do control.” And perhaps also help us make peace with what we do not.
Sarah Scoles is a freelance science journalist and author based in southern Colorado.
2026-04-13 18:00:00
Grizzly bears have made such a comeback across eastern Montana that in 2017, the state hired its first-ever prairie-based grizzly manager: wildlife biologist Wesley Sarmento.
For some seven years, Sarmento worked to keep both the bears, which are still listed as threatened under the Endangered Species Act, and the humans, who are sprawling into once-wild spaces, out of trouble. Based in the small city of Conrad, population 2,553, he acted sort of like a first responder, trying to defuse potentially dangerous situations. He even got caught in some himself—which is why, before he left the role to pursue a PhD, he turned to drones to get the job done.
Sarmento was studying mountain goats in Glacier National Park when he first started working with bears. To better understand how goats responded to the apex predator, he dressed up in a bear costume once a week for over three years.
When he later started as grizzly manager, he often drove long distances to push bears away from farms. Bears are drawn to spilled or leaking grains, and an open silo quickly turns into a buffet. Sarmento would typically arrive armed with a shotgun, cracker shells, and bear spray, but after he narrowly escaped getting mauled one day, he knew he had to pivot.
“In that moment,” he says, “I was like, I am gonna get myself killed.”
Sarmento first turned to two Airedale dogs, a breed known for deterring bears on farms, but the dogs were easily sidetracked. Meanwhile, drones were slowly becoming more common tools for biologists in a range of activities, including counting birds and mapping habitats.
He first took one into the field in 2022, when a grizzly mom and two cubs were found rummaging around in a silo outside of town. The drone’s infrared sensors helped him quickly find their location, and he used the aircraft’s sound to drive them away from the property. (Researchers suspect bears instinctively dislike the whir of blades because it sounds like a swarm of bees.) “The whole thing was so clean and controlled,” he says. “And I did it all from the safety of my truck.”
Since then, the flying machine that Sarmento bought for $4,000—a fairly simple model with a thermal camera and 30 minutes of battery life—has shown its potential for detecting grizzlies in perilous terrain he’d otherwise have to approach on foot, like dense brush or hard-to-reach river bottoms.
Now studying wildlife ecology at the University of Montana, Sarmento is hoping to design a drone campus police can use to deter black bears from school grounds. In the future, he hopes, AI image recognition might be broadly integrated into his wildlife management work—maybe even helping drones identify bears and autonomously divert them from high-traffic areas.
All this helps keep bears from learning behaviors that lead to conflict with people—which typically ends badly for the bear and is occasionally fatal for humans.
“The out-of-the-box technology doesn’t exist yet, but the hope is to keep exploring applications,” he says. “Drones are the next frontier.”
Emily Senkosky is a writer with a master’s degree in environmental science journalism from the University of Montana.
2026-04-10 22:04:20
Is it the Department of Defense or the Department of War? The Gulf of Mexico or the Gulf of America? A vaccine—or an “individualized neoantigen treatment”?
That’s the Trump-era vocabulary paradox facing Moderna, the covid-19 shot maker whose plans for next-generation mRNA vaccines against flus and emerging pathogens have been dashed by vaccine skeptics in the federal government. Canceled contracts and unfriendly regulators have pushed the Massachusetts-based biotech firm to a breaking point. Last year, Robert F. Kennedy Jr., head of the Department of Health and Human Services, zeroed in on mRNA, unwinding support for dozens of projects—including a $776 million award to Moderna for a bird flu vaccine. By January, the company was warning it might have to stop late-stage programs to develop vaccines against infections altogether.
That raises the stakes for a second area of Moderna’s research. In a partnership with Merck, it’s been using its mRNA technology to destroy tumors through a very, very promising technique known as a cancer vacc—
“It’s not a vaccine,” a spokesperson for Merck jumped in before the V-word could leave my mouth. “It’s an individualized neoantigen therapy.”
Oh, but it is a vaccine. And here’s how it works. Moderna sequences a patient’s cancer cells to find the ugliest, most peculiar molecules on their surface. Then it packages the genetic code for those same molecules, called neoantigens, into a shot. The patient’s immune system has its orders: Kill any cells with those yucky surface markers.
Mechanistically, it’s similar to the covid-19 vaccines. What’s different, of course, is that the patient is being immunized against a cancer, not a virus.
And it looks like a possible breakthrough. This year, Moderna and Merck showed that such shots halved the chance that patients with the deadliest form of skin cancer would die from a recurrence after surgery.
In its formal communications, like regulatory filings, Moderna hasn’t called the shot a cancer vaccine since 2023. That’s when it partnered up with Merck and rebranded the tech as individualized neoantigen therapy, or INT. Moderna’s CEO said at the time that the renaming was to “better describe the goal of the program.” (BioNTech, the European vaccine maker that’s also working in cancer, has shifted its language too, moving from “neoantigen vaccine” in 2021 to “mRNA cancer immunotherapies” in its latest report.)
The logic of casting it as a therapy is that patients already have cancer—so it’s a treatment as opposed to a preventive measure. But it’s no secret what the other goal is: to distance important innovation from vaccine fearmongering, which has been inflamed by high-ranking US officials. “Vaccines are maybe a dirty word nowadays, but we still believe in the science and harnessing our immune system to not only fight infections, but hopefully to also fight … cancers,” Kyle Holen, head of Moderna’s cancer program, said last summer during BIO 2025, a big biotech event in Boston.
Not everyone is happy with the word games. Take Ryan Sullivan, a physician at Massachusetts General Hospital who has enrolled patients in Moderna’s trials. He says the change raises questions over whether trial volunteers are being properly informed. “There is some concern that there will be patients who decline to treat their cancer because it is a vaccine,” Sullivan told me. “But I also felt it was important, as many of my colleagues did, that you have to call it what it is.”
But is it worth going to the mat for a word? Lillian Siu, a medical oncologist at the Princess Margaret Cancer Centre, in Toronto, who has played a role in safety testing for the new shots, watches US politics from a distance. She believes name change is acceptable “if it allows the research to continue.”
Holen told me the doctors complaining to Moderna were basically motivated by a desire to defend vaccines—which are, of course, among the greatest public health interventions of all time. They wanted the company to stand strong.
But that’s not what’s happening. When Moderna’s latest results were published in February, the paper’s main text didn’t use the word “vaccine” at all. It was only in the footnotes that you could see the term—in the titles of old papers and patents.
All this could be a sign that Kennedy’s strategy is working. His agencies often appear to make mRNA vaccines a focus of people’s worries, impede their reach, devalue them for companies, and sideline their defenders.
Still, Moderna’s strategy may be working too. So far, at least, the government hasn’t had much to say about the company’s cancer vacc— I mean, its individualized neoantigen therapy.
This article first appeared in The Checkup, MIT Technology Review’s weekly biotech newsletter. To receive it in your inbox every Thursday, and read articles like this first, sign up here.
