Design as a System: How Apple Keeps Its Edge Without Jony Ive

Analysis · October 2026

The idea in brief

•         Apple's design is not a matter of aesthetics but an organizational capability that integrates hardware, software, and silicon. That is what makes it hard to copy.

•         Jony Ive's departure in 2019 exposed the risk of depending on one person: according to several reports, the studio lost influence and nearly all of its Ive-era talent.

•         The current answer is an unusual governance bet: CEO John Ternus has, in practice, taken over the direction of design. It turns a personal virtue into a discipline of top management, but it moves the key-person risk rather than removing it.

 When Steve Jobs returned to Apple in 1997, the company was on the brink of bankruptcy. What saved it was not exclusive technology but an idea: that a translucent, colorful computer, the 1998 iMac, could be desirable. Nearly three decades later, Apple became the first company to surpass $3 trillion in market capitalization, and its new CEO summed up the bet for employees in a simple line: Apple is the most beautifully designed thing most of its customers own, and it must stay that way.

The uncomfortable question is whether that advantage is durable. Jony Ive, the designer who shaped the iMac, the iPod, the iPhone, and the iPad, left the company in 2019. Most of his longtime collaborators have since left as well, and for seven years no one filled the central role he held. This article makes three arguments: that Apple's design is a competitive advantage precisely because it is a system and not a style; that the system weakened after Ive's exit; and that Apple is trying to rebuild it with a new governance model that has clear virtues and risks worth naming.

What the advantage really is

It is tempting to explain Apple by the beauty of its products. That is an incomplete reading. The advantage comes from three mechanisms that design makes possible.

The first is integration. Apple designs the device, the operating system and, since the 2020 move to Apple Silicon, the processor. That chain allows decisions a fragmented competitor can hardly make: giving up a millimeter of thickness to gain battery life, or tuning a software animation to the exact characteristics of a display. An Android phone maker depends on Google for the operating system and on third parties for the chip; a Windows PC maker shares control with Microsoft and the processor suppliers. A rival can match a camera. It is much harder to match the feeling that everything works as a single object.

The second is the ecosystem. Earbuds that pair instantly, a watch that unlocks the computer, a message that hops from one device to another: each product is better because the others exist. That coherence raises the cost of switching brands. Here design is not the casing but the architecture of the experience.

The third is pricing power. A product perceived as the most carefully made on the market sustains a premium and margins that in turn fund more precision manufacturing and more development. It is a virtuous circle, but it depends on the perception of quality being renewed with every generation.

What makes this advantage hard to copy is not a technical secret but coordination: engineering, design, operations, and marketing aligned behind a single hierarchy of priorities. That is exactly the asset that dependence on one person puts at risk.

The Ive model and its fragility

Under Jobs and Ive, the design studio worked like a small, protected organism: few members, direct access to the CEO, endless prototypes, and an informal rule that design had a decisive voice over the product. The obsession with materials, the simplicity inherited from Dieter Rams, and the intolerance of careless detail were not ornaments. They were a shared decision criterion.

But that model rested on two personal relationships. In 2015 Ive stepped back from day-to-day management as chief design officer; in 2019 he left to found LoveFrom. Evans Hankey took over industrial design and the studio came under the supervision of Jeff Williams, then chief operating officer. According to Bloomberg reports picked up by several outlets, the studio carried less weight internally, some described it as a "service bureau," and nearly all of the Ive-era designers ended up leaving. Hankey also left, and Alan Dye, who led interface design, moved to Meta.

It is worth being precise: none of this means Apple stopped shipping admired products. Its own silicon, for example, kept improving. But the difference between maintaining a product line and maintaining a design culture is what separates a present advantage from a future one. Over time, according to those reports, operational efficiency, manufacturing scale, and business execution gained ground over design as a strategic voice.

How Apple sustains it today: four mechanisms

1. From genius to governance. Apple has not started a search for an outside design chief. Instead, John Ternus, who took over design oversight in late 2025 and has been CEO since September 1, 2026, has become the de facto head: according to Bloomberg and journalist Mark Gurman, he works in the studio several times a week, sometimes more than once a day. The change is fundamental. Under Cook, design answered to an intermediate executive; today it answers to the person who makes the final call. The upside is speed and an internal signal: the whole organization understands that design matters again. The risk is replacing dependence on Ive with dependence on the CEO, who must also handle component prices, artificial intelligence, and the supply chain.

2. Two studios, one standard. Industrial design is led by Molly Anderson; human interface design by Steve Lemay, who succeeded Dye. Apple has presented them together at recent launches, a deliberate gesture, because the seam between hardware and software is where its advantage lives. Ternus sits at that junction, and executives such as Craig Federighi and Greg Joswiak retain a voice in the company's overall aesthetic.

3. Engineering and design on the same side. Ternus comes from hardware product engineering. A recent analysis notes that under Ive, design and engineering often clashed, and that Ternus wants them to work together. It corrects a flaw of the earlier model: beauty that was sometimes paid for in manufacturing difficulty. And the ability to manufacture at scale what others cannot produce is part of Apple's moat, not a logistical detail.

4. Rebuilding the talent. Apple has listed Anderson as vice president of industrial design on its leadership page and has brought in new profiles, such as Belgian furniture designer Julien Renault. It is fresh blood, not clones of the Ive era. Rebuilding a design culture takes years; Bloomberg underscored this by noting that Ternus had only weeks before taking the job. The indicator to watch is not hiring announcements but the consistency of the products over the next three to five years.

The risks that remain open

First, key-person risk does not disappear: it moves upward. A model that depends on the CEO's attention works as long as the CEO has it, and is fragile when the calendar fills up.

Second, artificial intelligence changes the terrain. The next relevant interface may not be a glass rectangle. One irony of history: LoveFrom, Ive's firm, now works with OpenAI, a company that aims to define the next category of devices. In addition, the delay of the Siri overhaul, which reports say will arrive with iOS 27, is a reminder that in the AI era the quality of the experience is increasingly a matter of software behavior, not just form.

Third, cost pressure. Rising memory and storage prices are pushing device prices up. A price premium holds only if perceived value keeps pace. If design stops justifying it, the advantage becomes a vulnerability.

Lessons for business leaders

Treat design as an organizational capability, not an individual's talent. What Apple lost in 2019 was not just a person but the shared standard that person embodied. Documenting principles, training successors, and rotating leadership are ways to institutionalize it.

Place design where product and pricing decisions are made. Apple's experience suggests that when design answers to an operational-efficiency function, its voice is diluted. When it answers to the CEO, it is heard.

Measure the advantage by coherence, not awards. The health signal of a design system is that each new product reinforces the others and that customers perceive them as parts of a whole.

Plan the succession of the charismatic leader before they leave. Seven years without a single leader had a cost. Companies built around a central figure should have a day-after plan starting today.

Conclusion

The question is not whether Apple can design without Jony Ive. It is whether it can do so without depending on anyone in particular. Its current answer, an engineer CEO who becomes the design chief, is consistent with its history and with its need to integrate hardware, software, and artificial intelligence more tightly. But it is also a transitional solution: it works well as long as the figure is there. The real test will be whether, a decade from now, the system still produces the same results when Ternus is no longer in the studio every day.

 

Sources consulted (press reports as of October 29, 2026; several rely on Bloomberg and Mark Gurman's Power On newsletter): Business Today (October 5, 2026), iClarified (October 4, 2026), Mactrast (January 2026), The Next Web, Outlook Business, Smartprix, and TechNews. Details about the internal governance of design come from anonymous sources cited by those outlets, not from official Apple statements

Anatomy of Elon Musk’s management style

STRATEGY ESSAY · OCTOBER 2026

The Algorithm and Control

Anatomy of Elon Musk’s management style and what sets it apart from his competitors

IDEA IN BRIEF

 Musk’s style is neither charisma nor chaos: it is a system with five parts. First-principles reasoning, a deletion procedure (the “algorithm”), a chief engineer who decides close to the problem, deadlines that compress the learning cycle, and a capital architecture that concentrates control. Its advantage is learning speed per cycle; its costs are key-person risk, organizational fatigue, and corporate governance conflicts. Executives can adopt the method without adopting the persona.

Few executives generate as much devotion and as much hostility as Elon Musk, and that polarization tends to cloud the question a strategist should be asking: what makes his management model different? The usual answer treats him as a case of serial entrepreneurship. That is not enough. Musk runs or controls companies with very different capital cycles, regulation, and technology (space launch, automotive, social media, artificial intelligence) and applies the same set of practices across all of them. That set, more than any individual feat, separates him from competitors who manage by budget, by consensus, or by career trajectory.

A methodological caveat: the available evidence comes mostly from biographies and press reports, not from studies with access to internal data. It is best read as informed hypotheses, not as laws.

1. First principles instead of analogy

The foundational trait appears at the origin of SpaceX. According to Ashlee Vance’s biography, in 2002 Musk traveled to Russia to buy refurbished intercontinental ballistic missiles and, faced with the quoted prices, concluded that he should build the rockets himself. His reasoning was to break the rocket down into raw materials and ask why the final price was such a high multiple of them. That is first-principles thinking: starting from physical and economic constraints, not from historical prices or from what others do.

The difference from the competition is one of degree and consequence. The rational competitor benchmarks against the industry standard; Musk benchmarks against the physical limit. From this came decisions that looked irrational to incumbents: reusable rockets, vertical integration of components, giant single-piece castings at Tesla. The method does not guarantee success (Falcon 1 failed in its first three launches before reaching orbit in 2008, as Eric Berger recounts), but it reduces dependence on inherited assumptions.

2. The algorithm: managing by deletion

The second trait is procedural. Walter Isaacson documents a five-step method that Musk calls “the algorithm” and repeats in meetings relentlessly: question every requirement, delete parts and processes, simplify and optimize, accelerate the cycle, and only at the end, automate. The order is the key. The most counterintuitive rule is the second: according to Isaacson’s account, if you do not end up adding back at least 10% of what you deleted, you did not delete enough.

Its origin is an expensive lesson. During the Model 3 “production hell” in 2018, Tesla automated before debugging the process. Musk acknowledged this publicly in April 2018: excessive automation was a mistake, his own, and humans are underrated. In most large organizations every requirement has an owner and nobody has an incentive to erase it. Musk inverts the incentive: the sin is not deleting too much, but keeping too much.

Jon McNeill, a former Tesla president, turned the method into a book in 2026. He is an interested source, but his book suggests the practice is transferable beyond Musk’s orbit.

3. The chief engineer and authority by proximity

While many chief executives delegate technical matters to a chief technology officer, Musk defines himself as SpaceX’s chief engineer and takes design decisions. The biographies by Vance and Isaacson describe him on the factory floor, reviewing manufacturing problems and demanding that whoever raises a problem know the exact data. Information should travel by the shortest path, not through the chain of command.

The result is an organization with few layers between the problem and the decision-maker, but with a notable dependence on one person’s attention. When the bottleneck is an individual, the company’s decision speed is that individual’s speed.

4. Impossible deadlines and visible failure

Musk sets deadlines that will probably not be met, as a tool to compress the cycle. It works when the deadline disciplines the algorithm; it fails when it becomes an unsupported public promise, as has happened with his statements on autonomous driving. It is complemented by an unusual tolerance for visible failure: SpaceX develops hardware by iterating through tests that may end in explosions, on the logic that learning in flight beats exhaustive analysis on the ground. Compared with traditional contractors, accustomed to arrangements where public failure is unacceptable, that stance is a competitive advantage.

The same urgency, applied to Twitter (now X) after its 2022 acquisition, had a different outcome. Isaacson recounts that Musk demanded employees accept “extremely hardcore” work or leave, and headcount fell sharply. What is discipline in a rocket factory had widely reported commercial consequences at a platform that depends on advertiser trust and content moderation.

5. Capital and control as strategy

The fifth trait is the least discussed in the management literature: Musk treats capital structure as a strategic tool. In January 2026, Bloomberg reported that SpaceX was weighing a combination with xAI (which had already absorbed X) or with Tesla. Financial press reported that SpaceX completed its purchase of xAI in February 2026, and that it debuted on Nasdaq in June 2026 with dual-class shares that would leave Musk, according to an encyclopedic summary based on press reports, with 82% to 85% of voting power.

The logic is clear: finance capital-intensive projects (AI compute, Starship) with the valuation of strong assets, while keeping unilateral decision rights. The counterpoint is corporate governance: conflicts of interest among companies that finance one another, and concentration of power without checks. That tension, not the technique, is perhaps the model’s greatest systemic risk.

One method, four contexts

The test of a management style is its performance outside the terrain where it was born. At SpaceX the method fits almost perfectly: the product is physical, the test cycle is short, and the main customers (public agencies and satellite operators) value reliability and cost per launch. At Tesla it fits with nuances: deleting steps and giant castings reduced complexity, but the Model 3 episode showed what happens when the algorithm’s order is violated.

At X the fit is worse. A social network is not reducible to physical constraints; its value depends on users, advertisers, and moderation rules, variables that cannot be “deleted” without consequences. At xAI, the logic of speed and capital scale is coherent with competition in artificial intelligence, but reports on its cash burn and the controversies around its assistant Grok are reminders that fast execution does not replace quality controls. The pattern is consistent: the method pays off more the more physical, measurable, and short-cycle the problem is.

The costs of the model

Four costs deserve attention. First, key-person risk: strategy, capital allocation, and the reputation of several companies depend on a single person. Second, fatigue: a culture of permanent urgency erodes talent retention. Third, credibility: missed deadlines accumulate a trust debt with customers and investors. Fourth, financial volatility: according to press summaries, SpaceX shares reportedly fell about 50% from their peak by late July 2026, and xAI reportedly burns more than a billion dollars a month, figures that should be checked against primary sources.

What sets him apart from competitors

Competitors, in essence, manage with different keywords. Amazon systematizes debate through written documents; traditional automakers optimize by platform and supplier; classic aerospace contractors optimize by contract and compliance. Musk manages by constraint: what do physics and economics say, and what can we delete? He also manages by proximity, with decisions close to the problem, and by control, with capital structures designed so that no one can stop him. Each element exists at other companies; the combination, applied simultaneously across several sectors and sustained by a shareholding control that shields the leader from quarterly pressure, is what is singular. Competitors can copy the algorithm, but they can hardly replicate the risk tolerance that this control makes possible.

Implications for executives

First, institute a periodic requirements review with the rule that whoever defends a requirement must justify it with data. Second, order the sequence: delete before optimizing and optimize before automating. Third, bring technical decisions closer to the problem, but distribute decision-making capacity so as not to replicate the single-person bottleneck. Fourth, treat aggressive deadlines as an internal tool, not an external promise. And fifth, design governance checks proportional to the power that leadership concentrates. From Musk’s model one can learn the method without imitating the persona, and above all without replicating its risks. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Glossary

Algorithm (Musk’s). Five-step sequence: question requirements, delete, simplify and optimize, accelerate the cycle, and automate, in that order.

Learning cycle. Time between formulating a design hypothesis, testing it, and obtaining evidence that allows correction.

Cost-plus. Contract in which the customer reimburses costs plus a margin, which can weaken the incentive to reduce costs.

Dual-class shares. Structure in which one class carries more voting rights than another, allowing founders to control the company with a smaller economic stake.

Gigacasting. Manufacturing technique that replaces dozens of stamped parts with a single large cast piece.

Production hell. Expression used by Musk for the 2017–2018 period when Tesla struggled to build the Model 3 at the promised pace.

Chief engineer. Role in which the leader takes technical design decisions, not just general management.

Vertical integration. Producing in-house components or services that others buy from suppliers.

Key-person risk. Risk that a company depends disproportionately on one individual.

First principles. Reasoning method that starts from fundamental physical or economic truths instead of analogies with what already exists.

Reusability. Recovering and relaunching rocket stages to reduce cost per launch.

References

Berger, E. (2021). Liftoff: Elon Musk and the Desperate Early Days That Launched SpaceX. William Morrow.

Bloomberg (January 30, 2026). “Elon Musk’s SpaceX Said to Consider Merger With Tesla or xAI.” bloomberg.com/news/videos/2026-01-30/spacex-said-to-consider-merger-with-tesla-or-xai-video-ml1gtvp1

Higgins, T. (2021). Power Play: Tesla, Elon Musk, and the Bet of the Century. Doubleday.

Isaacson, W. (2023). Elon Musk. Simon & Schuster.

McNeill, J. (2026). The Algorithm. Ebury Edge (Penguin Random House UK).

Musk, E. [@elonmusk] (April 13, 2018). Post on X/Twitter on excessive automation at Tesla.

Reuters / Financial Times (January 28, 2026). “SpaceX weighs June 2026 IPO at $1.5 trillion valuation, FT says.” finance.yahoo.com/news/spacex-weighs-june-2026-ipo-050656741.html

Vance, A. (2015). Elon Musk: Tesla, SpaceX, and the Quest for a Fantastic Future. Ecco.

Wikipedia (accessed October 28, 2026). “Initial public offering of SpaceX.” en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Initial_public_offering_of_SpaceX (secondary source; cross-check against the SEC filing).

Apple's New Era

Apple's New Era

John Ternus takes the helm of the world's second most valuable company with a foldable phone in hand and an artificial intelligence question to answer

Analysis based on the report by Andrew R. Chow, TIME, October 26, 2026

One September morning in Silicon Valley, John Ternus's hands were shaking beneath the broad smile he wore all day. It was the unveiling of the Duo, Apple's first foldable iPhone, and the new CEO, in the job since September 1, was surrounded by celebrities and reporters who had come from around the world. The influencer IShowSpeed was livestreaming the encounter to his 61 million subscribers, and viewers noticed the tremor as Ternus tried to drag a photo into a text message. He explained afterward that he had barely slept, running on adrenaline, caffeine and excitement.

The anecdote sums up the company's moment. Ternus inherits a colossal business, with some 2.5 billion active devices and revenue approaching $500 billion a year, just as the whole industry turns toward artificial intelligence and Apple is not at the frontier of that race. His tenure will be judged by how he resolves that tension.

An Engineer on the Throne of Visionaries

Ternus was born in 1975 in Orange County, California. When he was eight, his father bought an Apple II; a decade later he took the family's Mac SE to the University of Pennsylvania, where he studied mechanical engineering. In 2001, at 26, he left a virtual reality company to join Apple as an engineer, and he has now spent half his life there. His rise is explained by an uncommon habit: thinking at once about how a product is made and how the person using it will experience it.

The contrast with his predecessors is plain. Tim Cook was a political and logistical operator, skilled at navigating governments, markets and supply chains; Jobs was the charismatic visionary who sold the almost spiritual dimension of technology. Ternus is a reserved, detail-obsessed engineer, barely known outside the company until he took over hardware in 2021. He has devoted much of his early tenure to design, spending several days a week in the studio. His appointment also carries strategic meaning: after years of emphasizing services such as iCloud and the App Store, whose growth has moderated, promoting a hardware man signals a return to the company's roots. Cook, meanwhile, remains executive chairman and keeps representing Apple before world leaders.

The Duo: A Hardware Bet

The product that opens this era is the most radical design change to the iPhone since 2007. About the size of an open passport, it unfolds into a powerful tablet; it starts at $1,999 and goes on sale October 23. The idea is old inside the company: in 2011, when many people still carried flip phones, Ternus and five other engineers filed a patent application for foldable devices.

Apple arrived late to the category and used the delay to its advantage. Rivals' first foldables were fragile and showed an obvious crease down the middle. The team built a display engine that enables seamless transitions between the inner and outer screens, and redesigned iOS to move the main controls to the right side, within thumb's reach. The surface, a custom polymer set atop a hinge of more than a hundred tiny components, leaves early users barely able to detect the crease. According to Richard Dinh, vice president of product design, Ternus urged the team to wait for the right solution rather than settle for a material similar to competitors'.

The risk, however, is real. Apple has had flops such as the car that never shipped and the Vision Pro, with very low sales, and many buyers will balk at a price above $2,000. In the Duo's favor are glowing early reactions and strong demand for Samsung's Galaxy Z Fold8, a sign that the category is growing, especially in Asia.

Memory, Politics and Kids: Hard Choices

Ternus faces three thorny fronts. The first is the global memory chip shortage, which raises costs and delays production. In July it was reported that Apple was testing memory from a Chinese company to expand supply, and a bipartisan group of senators warned of a national security risk. Ternus called the shortage a crisis and said all options should be on the table.

The second is political power. Cook cultivated a relationship with Donald Trump, including the widely mocked presentation of a disc with a 24-karat gold base in 2025, and won relief from some tariffs. Ternus is tight-lipped about his own style; he says he has met with members of the administration, but Cook still does the diplomatic work. The third is child safety: governments from Australia to the U.K., California and New York are restricting minors' use of social media, AI and phones, and pressuring Apple. In September the company redesigned Screen Time to give parents more control, and Ternus promises child safety will be central.

The Big Question: Artificial Intelligence

Here is the real exam. Apple unveiled Apple Intelligence in June 2024, eighteen months after ChatGPT, and spent more than two years trying to deliver the personalized Siri it had promised. In 2025 it scrapped the existing architecture. The new Siri, launched in the U.S. in September, runs on an Apple model that leverages Google's Gemini technology. It is an unusual position: relying on a rival for a key component, something that would have angered Jobs, who favored owning the whole widget.

Ternus rejects the idea that this is a retreat. Apple already depends on suppliers for screens, memory and modems, he argues, and it makes the things where it can truly differentiate. The underlying thesis is that AI's value comes less from raw power than from what surrounds it: the chip, the operating system and the knowledge of the user. The report concedes that the new Siri cannot code like OpenAI's Codex or write like Anthropic's Claude, but with the user's permission it connects messages, emails, calendars and documents to prepare for a meeting or interpret Apple Watch health data.

Executives also turn limitations into virtues. Lilian Rincon, who leads AI product efforts, says Siri was designed not to be a companion or replace human connection. Privacy is the other pillar: requests are processed on-device where possible, and more demanding ones go to Private Cloud Compute, a system designed not to store queries and partly open to independent researchers, who praise the approach while noting limits to its transparency. Apple, says Greg Joswiak, is aiming at everyday people, not those chasing superintelligence.

Competition and a Thesis Under Test

Some investors already treat Apple as a hedge against the AI companies dominating the Nasdaq. And if small but capable models soon run on devices, the scarce asset would be the device and personal context, not the chatbot. There was a preview: hobbyists bought Mac Minis to run agents with the OpenClaw project, drawn by Apple's efficient silicon, and some models were unavailable for months. But hardware competition is growing: OpenAI acquired Jony Ive's startup, and in July Apple sued it over alleged theft of trade secrets, which OpenAI calls baseless.

A Critical Reading

Apple's narrative is coherent: technological modesty, personalization and privacy as differentiators, and hardware that remains central to daily life. But it rests on assumptions not yet proven. First, that depending on Gemini is temporary rather than a structural weakness. Second, that restraint in AI is a strategic choice and not an elegant way to justify years of lag. Third, that a nearly $2,000 phone will expand the market rather than merely satisfy the most loyal. Add a leadership challenge: Ternus shines inside the company, but he must now talk to shareholders, regulators, presidents and rivals, terrain where Cook still plays the main role.

Even so, the bet is honest about the company's strengths. While others compete for the biggest model, Apple wants to be the place where AI becomes everyday. If the device, the system and personal context prove to be the decisive asset, this era will be remembered as wise; if not, the Duo will be one more brilliant product from a company that looked the other way.

Co-Existence: The Next Phase of AI

By Ethan Mollick
Portfolio / Penguin Random House, October 2026
240 pages

In an era saturated with AI hype on one side and existential dread on the other, Ethan Mollick offers something rarer and more useful: a clear-eyed, practical field guide to living and working with machines that are sometimes—but not always—smarter than we are. Co-Existence: The Next Phase of AI, the sequel to his 2024 bestseller Co-Intelligence, arrives at exactly the right moment. The chatbot era has given way to agentic systems capable of multi-step, financially valuable work, yet true artificial general intelligence remains (for now) over the horizon. Mollick, a Wharton professor, Academic Director of the Generative AI Labs, and author of the widely read “One Useful Thing” newsletter, focuses squarely on the strange in-between years we actually inhabit.

The book’s central organizing idea is the “jagged frontier.” AI capability is not a smooth, steadily rising curve. The same system that writes elegant code, produces sophisticated strategic analysis, or tutors a student with remarkable patience can invent facts, miss obvious context, or fail spectacularly on tasks that look trivial to humans. This unevenness, Mollick argues, is the defining feature of our current technological moment. Leaders and knowledge workers who treat AI as either an all-powerful oracle or a mere parlor trick will systematically underperform. Those who learn to map the frontier daily, to recognize where the machine is strong and where it is weak, will build a durable advantage.

Mollick moves well beyond the now-familiar territory of prompt engineering. He proposes three practical modes of collaboration that reflect different degrees of integration between human and machine. “Centaur work” involves relatively clean handoffs: the human defines the problem, sets constraints, and evaluates the final output while the AI executes the bulk of the intermediate work. “Cyborg work” is continuous interleaving—human and AI iterating in real time, each refining the other’s contributions. “Conjurer work” delegates greater autonomy, allowing the system to explore solution spaces with lighter human oversight. Each mode has distinct strengths and failure modes. Mollick illustrates them with concrete experiments drawn from his research and his own writing process, including cases in which the AI produced passages he wished he had written himself and others that were flatly uninspired. The tone throughout is warm, lightly humorous, and refreshingly free of both techno-utopianism and doom-mongering.

A recurring and important theme is the risk of cognitive offloading. Large language models trained with reinforcement learning from human feedback are optimized to be helpful, agreeable, and persuasive—sometimes to the point of sycophancy. The danger is not merely that they will hallucinate facts; it is that they will gradually erode our own capacity for judgment, originality, and critical detection of nonsense. Mollick is blunt: the lasting human advantage lies in remaining the final arbiter of quality, context, values, and taste. He offers concrete practices for preserving that edge—structured verification routines, deliberate introduction of friction into workflows, and intentional periods of unaided thinking. These recommendations feel especially urgent for educators and parents concerned about the development of young minds, and for managers responsible for the intellectual capital of their organizations.

The organizational chapter is among the book’s strongest. Mollick contends that simply “adding AI” on top of existing processes rarely produces transformative results. Individual productivity gains are real and measurable, yet organizations designed for a pre-AI world tend to absorb those gains without converting them into collective performance improvement. He sketches a practical leadership–lab–crowd model. Senior leadership must engage deeply with the technology rather than delegating AI strategy to a distant digital or innovation team. Dedicated “labs” must run continuous, rigorous experiments on how the technology can reshape core processes. And the broader workforce—the “crowd”—must be both empowered and expected to surface use cases and surface problems. In a world of increasingly agentic systems, the human role shifts toward goal-setting, oversight of complex multi-step workflows, integration of social and political context, and the ethical judgment that machines still lack. “Things are very weird,” Mollick observes. “They may get weirder.”

Co-Existence is deliberately not a technical treatise. Readers seeking detailed discussions of transformer architectures, scaling laws, or speculative timelines for superintelligence will find the book wanting. Its strength is its disciplined focus on the practical, present-tense questions that most managers, professionals, consultants, and educators actually face right now: How do I productively work alongside something that occasionally outperforms me in my own domain? How do I protect my own thinking from systems designed to finish my sentences? How should institutions—companies, schools, governments—adapt their structures and incentives? The prose is accessible without being simplistic, grounded in peer-reviewed research and real-world experiments yet free of academic denseness or jargon for its own sake.

For Harvard Business Review readers, the book’s greatest contribution is its refusal of false dichotomies. AI will neither replace knowledge workers wholesale in the near term nor remain a peripheral productivity tool. The competitive edge will belong to individuals and organizations that treat coexistence as a craft—mapping the jagged frontier every day, choosing the appropriate mode of collaboration for each task, and deliberately preserving human agency and judgment. At 240 pages, Co-Existence is concise enough for busy executives yet substantive enough to shape strategy discussions at the highest levels. It is the rare technology book that feels simultaneously urgent and measured, optimistic about human potential without being naïve about technological power. Highly recommended for anyone whose work involves thinking, deciding, or leading in the age of intelligent machines.

Mind Map of Co-Existence

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Glossary

• Jagged frontier: The uneven, unpredictable boundary of AI capabilities—strong in some domains, weak or unreliable in others that appear similar to humans.
• Centaur work: Collaboration mode with clean handoffs between human and AI.
• Cyborg work: Continuous, interleaved collaboration between human and AI.
• Conjurer work: Mode in which humans delegate substantial autonomy to AI systems.
• Cognitive offloading: The tendency to transfer mental effort to AI, potentially at the cost of one’s own judgment and skill.
• Agentic AI: Systems capable of planning and executing multi-step tasks with limited human intervention.
• Leadership–lab–crowd model: Organizational framework requiring engaged senior leadership, dedicated experimentation units, and broad employee participation.

The 10 AI Applications That Will Set the Trend

The 10 AI Applications That Will Set the Trend

Outlook for the short term (2026–2027) and the medium term (2028–2030)

Artificial intelligence has stopped being a laboratory promise and become working infrastructure. In October 2026 the conversation is no longer about which model is largest, but about which applications deliver measurable value, at what cost and under what controls. This text selects ten applications that, given their technical maturity, business traction and likely impact, will set the agenda through 2030. These are reasoned projections, not certainties: figures from firms such as Gartner are market estimates and should be read with caution, since the history of technology is full of forecasts that arrived earlier or later than expected.

1. Autonomous agents and agentic workflows

This is the dominant trend. An agent does not merely answer: it plans steps, uses tools, carries out actions across different systems and hands the work over for review. Gartner projects that by the end of 2026 about 40% of enterprise applications will include task-specific agents, up from under 5% in 2025, and that by 2028 a third of enterprise software will have agentic capabilities. In the medium term the leap will be toward ecosystems of several agents collaborating with one another. The warning carries equal weight: it is estimated that more than 40% of these projects could be cancelled by 2027 because of weak governance or unclear value. The winners will start with narrow processes, clear metrics and human oversight.

What to watch: the share of tasks resolved without human intervention, the cost per task compared with the manual process, and the number of incidents caused by unauthorized actions. These signals will separate useful pilots from expensive demonstrations.

2. Coding assistants and software agents

Software development is where generative AI shows its most visible return. The shift is from autocomplete to agents that read a repository, propose changes, run tests and open pull requests. The programmer’s role moves toward specifying, reviewing and orchestrating. In the short term, automated code review, legacy-system migration and test generation will grow; in the medium term, the question will be how to ensure quality and security when much of the code is not written by a person. The phenomenon will also reach non-programmers: analysts and business professionals building their own tools by describing them in natural language.

What to watch: the rate of defects and vulnerabilities in generated code, and whether teams keep rigorous review practices despite the pressure for speed. Productivity gains that ignore maintenance costs may prove illusory over time.

3. Multimodal AI and voice as an interface

Text, image, audio and video are converging in a single model. Gartner anticipates that close to 40% of generative AI solutions will be multimodal by 2027. This enables fluid voice assistants, analysis of documents with tables and charts, visual inspection in industry, and customer service that understands a photo of the problem. In the medium term, voice and camera will be everyday interfaces on phones and wearable devices, reducing reliance on the keyboard and the traditional screen.

What to watch: the quality of speech recognition in Latin American Spanish and indigenous languages, where data gaps remain notable, and how quickly wearable devices move from novelty to routine tool.

4. Small, specialized and on-device models

Not every task needs the largest model. Gartner estimates that more than 50% of enterprise generative AI models will be specific to an industry or function by 2027, compared with about 1% in 2023. Small models are cheaper, faster and easier to audit, and they can run on the device itself or on internal servers, which protects sensitive data. The cost of production inference, more than experimentation, will be the line item that forces this efficiency. A mixed architecture is expected: a large model for complex reasoning and small models for repetitive tasks.

What to watch: the performance gap between small and large models, and progress in low-power chips for phones and laptops. If the gap keeps narrowing, much of today’s cloud spending will migrate closer to the user.

5. AI in finance, banking and compliance

The financial sector combines abundant data, regulated processes and a high cost of error, which makes it fertile ground. In the short term we will see reconciliations, analysis of reports and contracts, fraud detection, customer service, and assistants for credit and risk analysts. In audit and compliance, AI will allow a move from sampling to reviewing entire populations and to continuous monitoring. The challenge is explainability: supervisors and auditors will demand traceability for every automated decision, opening a professional field for those who master both internal control and artificial intelligence.

What to watch: regulators’ guidance on automated models, and each institution’s ability to document every decision for an audit. Firms that build this discipline early will face fewer surprises when scrutiny arrives.

6. Healthcare and scientific discovery

In medicine, AI already supports image reading, clinical documentation and patient prioritization. In the short term, reducing administrative burden, through transcription and summaries of consultations, will be the most widespread application. In the medium term, the greatest potential lies in science: protein and drug design, new materials, and laboratories where agents propose hypotheses and plan experiments. Regulatory timelines and the need for clinical validation will moderate the pace, but the cumulative effect could be profound.

What to watch: results of clinical studies that compare AI with standard practice, and the first regulatory approvals of AI-based diagnostic support tools. Evidence, not enthusiasm, will determine how fast hospitals adopt them.

7. Education and personalized tutoring

AI tutors adapt explanations, pace and exercises to each student and give immediate feedback. For teachers, they automate planning, rubrics and a first round of grading. The short term will bring integration into educational and corporate training platforms; the medium term, continuous learning paths tied to job skills. The risks are familiar: dependency, plagiarism and unequal access. Institutions that redesign assessment around reasoning and application, rather than banning the tools, will be better positioned.

What to watch: rigorous evidence of improved learning, not just student satisfaction, and clear acceptable-use policies in schools and universities. Without them, adoption will be uneven and contested.

8. AI-assisted cybersecurity

AI widens both defense and attack. On defense, agents that triage alerts, investigate incidents and prioritize vulnerabilities relieve understaffed teams. On offense, personalized phishing, voice and video impersonation, and automated intrusions lower the cost for criminals. Moreover, the agents themselves become an attack surface: prompt injection, data leakage and abuse of permissions. Expect a sustained arms race and strong demand for identity management, least-privilege permissions and monitoring of non-human systems.

What to watch: mean time to detect and respond to incidents, and the emergence of specific standards for protecting agents with access to critical systems. Organizations should treat every agent as a privileged user.

9. Physical AI: robotics and autonomous vehicles

Advances in models that perceive and reason are reaching robots in warehouses, factories and logistics, and autonomous vehicles in selected cities. In the short term, controlled environments and repetitive tasks will predominate; in the medium term, more general and cheaper robots. The main brake is not only software but hardware, safety and economies of scale. For Latin America, the first opportunity lies in mining, agribusiness and logistics.

What to watch: the unit cost of robots, their reliability in continuous operation, and workplace safety frameworks for sharing space with people. Each of these determines whether pilots become fleets.

10. AI governance, security and trust

As AI acts rather than merely opines, the need to govern it grows: model inventories, continuous evaluation, observability, traceability, data controls and regulatory compliance. Many companies are adopting a central layer, or “AI gateway,” between applications and models to enforce policies, control costs and log activity. Regulation advances unevenly across regions, but the trend points toward greater demands for transparency and accountability. In the medium term, trust will be a competitive advantage: whoever can show that their AI is safe, auditable and useful will scale faster.

What to watch: convergence of international standards, adoption of AI risk-management frameworks, and the demand for independent audits. Boards will increasingly ask for evidence rather than assurances.

Conclusion: three common threads

Three threads emerge from the whole. First, the move from tools that converse to systems that act, with autonomy growing as far as control allows. Second, economics: inference, energy and chips determine what is viable; Broadcom, for instance, projects AI chip revenue of about 115 billion dollars in fiscal 2027. Third, the human factor: organizations that train their people, redesign processes and measure results will capture the value, while those that merely buy technology risk adding to the count of cancelled projects. The practical advice is to start small, measure, govern and then scale. For those working in finance, audit or education, the advantage will lie in combining expert judgment with mastery of these tools: the technology is becoming widely accessible, while good judgment remains scarce. That scarcity, more than any model, is what organizations and professionals should invest in over the coming years.

Sources for the figures: Gartner estimates (applications with agents, industry-specific models, multimodal AI) and a Broadcom projection, as reported by industry coverage consulted in October 2026.

The Mortgaged Empire by Foreign Affairs (2026)

ANALYSIS · THE GEOPOLITICS AND FINANCE OF AI

The Mortgaged Empire

When the geopolitical race for artificial intelligence meets its financial bubble

A joint reading of “Empires of AI” (Niall Ferguson, Lisa Klaassen, and Eric Schmidt) and “The Global AI Bust” (Ruchir Sharma), Foreign Affairs, November/December 2026

Two essays in the same issue of Foreign Affairs describe the same race from angles that are rarely read together. Ferguson, Klaassen, and Schmidt argue that artificial intelligence has given Washington and Beijing a new form of empire, and that the decisive question may not be who reaches artificial general intelligence first, but who can bankroll the race. Sharma answers, from the standpoint of finance, that the race is being paid for with a bubble: real in its technology, fragile in its structure of debt and subsidy. Read together, the two texts suggest a thesis neither fully states: the AI empire is mortgaged, and the date that mortgage comes due will be set less by generals or engineers than by the debt markets.

1. Two diagnoses, one variable

For Ferguson and his coauthors, AI is an imperial technology for a concrete reason: it brought scarcity back to a sector that had ignored it for decades. According to the scaling laws, progress depends on energy, critical minerals, chips, and capital on a massive scale, and once a technology’s frontier depends on scarce inputs, its production becomes a matter of geopolitics. Of all those inputs, capital is the one most likely to constrain both empires. The largest U.S. technology firms have committed more than $600 billion in capital expenditure for 2026, while Beijing, according to a draft plan reported by Bloomberg, intends to spend $295 billion over five years, funded mainly through long-dated government bonds (pp. 71–72).

Sharma looks at the same capital from the inside. Technology spending on plants and equipment now stands at 6.3 percent of U.S. GDP, above the 6.0 percent reached at the peak of the Internet bubble. Of the five hyperscalers, only Microsoft still generates surplus cash flow; four have increased their net debt by issuing bonds, and leases and off-balance-sheet arrangements could add roughly $3 trillion to their debt over the next decade (pp. 85–87). What Ferguson presents as the grand strategic wager of two powers, Sharma presents as a familiar cycle: companies spending more than they can recover, investors borrowing to buy their shares, and prices drifting away from any profits the technology can support.

The point of contact is public debt. Ferguson notes that the United States crossed what he calls the “Ferguson limit” in 2024, paying more in interest (about $881 billion) than on defense (about $874 billion), and that on the current trajectory interest will be double the defense budget by 2036 (p. 72). Sharma identifies that same debtor as the signal that matters: bubbles pop when liquidity tightens, and the players to watch are now less central bankers than the “bond vigilantes,” who punish free-spending governments by selling their bonds (p. 88). The joint reading is uncomfortable: the same debt that narrows the empire’s fiscal room is what can close the tap that feeds the AI expansion.

2. The shared architecture: the stack as empire and as chain of contagion

Ferguson describes AI as a lattice of chokepoints—chips, minerals, models—that the metropoles can switch on or off at will. The text cites a recent example: in June, the U.S. Commerce Department told Anthropic to suspend foreign nationals’ access to its two most capable models (p. 69). There the center decides who gets what; the periphery supplies minerals and cheap labeling work and receives the refined product back at a markup.

Sharma traces the same web, but as a map of economic dependence. TSMC, SK Hynix, and Samsung weigh more in their local indexes than big tech does in the U.S. index; South Korea’s market value rose from $1.5 trillion to more than $5 trillion between early 2025 and this summer; Taiwan’s economy has grown at near double-digit rates; high tech accounts for as much as half of Israel’s growth. Further down the chain, Singapore, Malaysia, Mexico, and Vietnam are receiving data centers and server plants, and suppliers of nickel, lithium, and copper close the chain (pp. 81–82).

What is geopolitical dependence for Ferguson is a transmission channel for Sharma. And both converge on the same node: Taiwan. Ferguson identifies it as the most likely scenario for great-power war, because TSMC sits roughly 90 miles off the Chinese coast and capturing the island would be enough to blunt the supremacy of American models (p. 76). Sharma shows it as one of the most extreme stock market concentrations in the world. A military shock and a financial bust would therefore strike the same point; this coincidence, which neither author stresses, is probably the most important finding of reading them together.

3. The dollar: advantage and exposure

Ferguson argues that the dollar and Wall Street underwrite the American AI empire: owning the reserve currency lets Washington fund its data center build-out with other people’s savings, while China must finance from within, through a state-directed banking system (p. 71). Sharma supplies the other side of that privilege. Foreigners now hold more than $20 trillion in U.S. stocks, up from under $2 trillion after the dot-com bust, with much of the increase coming after ChatGPT’s launch. American households keep more than 30 percent of their wealth in stocks, above the 27 percent of 2000, mostly through passive funds tracking an index dominated by AI (p. 85).

Public support adds to this. According to Sharma, the deficit, above 6 percent of GDP, accounts for more than half of U.S. corporate profits this decade, twice the dot-com level, and the Federal Reserve holds its rate a full point below what academic guidelines would advise (p. 87). Ferguson adds a feedback loop: the capital demands of AI are already pushing interest rates higher and worsening the debt (p. 73). Our reading, which combines the two arguments, is of a circle: the reserve-currency privilege finances the empire and at the same time globalizes its fragility, so the periphery does not merely supply inputs; it also holds the paper that funds the expansion.

4. China: the rival that compresses margins

Ferguson observes that Beijing is following the latecomer path that carried challengers past Britain in the nineteenth century: investing where Washington lacks an edge or cannot match the cost—energy, manufacturing, robotics, and open-weight models at or near the frontier—so that the United States must spend lavishly to defend its lead in a sector China is commoditizing (p. 74). Sharma notes that Chinese models are cheaper and perform nearly as well, and that net exports, mainly of AI-related goods, now account for a third of China’s growth, in a domestic economy weighed down by bad debts and a shrinking labor force (p. 81).

Two consequences follow from combining them. First, competition from cheap models limits the pricing power that Western valuations assume; Sharma points out that two frontier labs charge subscribers less than it costs to train and run their models, yet analysts value each at well over a trillion dollars (p. 84). This is our inference, not a claim by the authors. Second, China is no safe harbor: its economy depends on AI through exports, and Ferguson warns that its own crisis could be set off by overcapacity and the margin-destroying competition known as neijuan, with high youth unemployment and local governments already borrowing solely to roll over old debt (pp. 72–73). A bust would not be an American matter alone.

5. The political ceiling: a bust without a safety net

Ferguson sums up the historical dilemma of empires in what he calls the “imperial trilemma”: a power can do two of three things—defend its dominions, maintain technological primacy, or provide generous welfare to the metropole—but not all three (p. 75). Sharma adds the context of a world without a cushion: global debt has surpassed $350 trillion, more than three times the size of the world economy, and few governments will have the money to stimulate battered economies or bail out businesses (p. 90).

Moreover, it is doubtful the public would allow it. Sharma cites that most Americans say they are more concerned than excited about AI, that seven in ten expect fewer jobs, and that local opposition blocked or delayed data center projects worth some $130 billion in the first quarter alone (p. 90). Ferguson records the same backlash, even in Republican-led states such as Texas and Utah (p. 75). The combination suggests that in 2008 and 2020 the state absorbed the blow, and that in an AI bust it may be unable or unwilling to do so. A bursting bubble would thus work as a stress test for the empire: growing deficits, shrinking room, and military commitments that do not go away, just when Ferguson warns that American overextension in the Middle East may tempt Beijing (pp. 76–77).

6. Where they disagree

The authors do not agree on the essentials of the outcome. Ferguson sees in AI a durable imperial resource whose main threat is overreach, rivalry, and, at the extreme, war; his way out is a form of détente that limits the race through agreements, for example by setting capability thresholds for models with cyber-offensive or biological potential (p. 78). Sharma sees a “good” speculative episode, comparable to the Internet or the railroads: after the crash a more streamlined network of survivors will remain, and the technology will keep advancing (p. 91).

The underlying question is whether the bust is the threat or the purge. Our reconciling hypothesis is that the crash would not end the technology (Sharma), but could change who is able to sustain the imperial order built upon it (Ferguson). The survivors would be those with access to the deepest and cheapest capital, whether dollar-financed or backed by the Chinese state. The bust would act as a selection mechanism among firms and also among empires. There is also an important agreement: neither believes AI is a magic card against fiscal problems. Ferguson warns that productivity gains may arrive too late to avoid the debt trap; Sharma recalls that technologies usually lift productivity decades after they appear, and that current forecasts range from 0.1 to nearly 2 percentage points a year (pp. 73, 91).

7. What to watch

•         Long-term bond yields and episodes of “bond vigilantes” in the United States, Europe, and Japan: the liquidity signal that, according to Sharma, precedes busts.

•         Circular funding and “other income” at the hyperscalers, along with off-balance-sheet leases: they measure how much of the earnings is real.

•         Initial public offerings of the frontier labs, with prices below cost and valuations without profits.

•         Semiconductor volatility in Korea, Taiwan, and Japan, and any sign of tension in the Taiwan Strait.

•         Refinanced Chinese local debt and signs of neijuan in subsidized sectors.

•         Local opposition to data centers and governments’ fiscal response to a potential shock.

8. A view from the periphery: a reading for the Andes

Both texts place the region in the supply chain. Sharma lists copper from Chile, Peru, and the Democratic Republic of the Congo among the inputs that will sustain years of demand from the worldwide AI construction project, and warns that the shock of a bust would reach, at the end of the chain, miners and power producers (pp. 82, 89). Ferguson describes the pattern of extraction in the periphery and refining and resale in the metropole (p. 66). A reading of our own, not the authors’: economies such as Peru’s have high exposure to the AI demand cycle and low participation in its rents, so their best defense lies in following global liquidity indicators more closely than technology announcements. Sharma adds that countries such as India and the Philippines are doubly exposed, left out of the investment wave and at risk of displacement in their back-office services (p. 82).

Conclusion

Ferguson, Klaassen, and Schmidt explain why AI is a contest between empires; Sharma explains why that contest rests on a financial foundation that looks too much like those of earlier bubbles. Together they draw a double risk: a war over one node, Taiwan, and a financial bust with that same node at its epicenter, in a world where states have little room to cushion the fall. The lesson they share is an old one: empires seldom fall for lack of ambition, but because they cannot pay for what they aspire to. What is new is the speed. And AI, unlike the railroad, offers no decades in which to learn how to pay for itself.

Methodological note. This text was prepared from a full reading of both articles. Figures and facts are attributed to the authors and were not independently verified. Readings that combine or extend the two texts (the Taiwan node coincidence, the dollar circle, margin compression, the selection hypothesis among empires, and the Andean reading) are inferences of this analysis and are flagged as such. Page numbers refer to the printed edition.

Sources

Ferguson, N., Klaassen, L., & Schmidt, E. (2026). Empires of AI: The Rise and Fall of a New Global Order. Foreign Affairs, 105(6), 62–78.

Sharma, R. (2026). The Global AI Bust: What Will Survive When the Boom Ends. Foreign Affairs, 105(6), 79–91.