Is Artificial Intelligence the “serviceable villain” of layoffs?
King Lear had Oswald, and huge corporations like Meta have Artificial Intelligence to blame for their misdeeds.
Meta joins other companies in saying
Au revoir, auf wiedersehen
You won't see another morning, You won't see another evening
Good night,
Buenos noches o señor Senorita see ya later
Buenos noches bye-bye
To thousands.
But is it really the fault of spending on AI?
Tech veteran, investor, and thinker Om Malik has a perspective that I think is worth exploring. Om writes:
I have been watching companies make announcement after announcement, and all I see are the sins of their past. Meta is laying off another 8,000 people. So many of them are coming from ill-fated projects like Reality Labs. It is a company that got bloated, over-hired, and, believe it or not, didn’t have a clear idea of its own sprawl.
For context, Meta has cut close to 36,000 jobs since 2022. The first rounds were honest about pandemic over-hiring. The 8,000 being slashed in May, plus 6,000 open roles closed, are now being sold as an AI story. The company still has 78,000 employees, give or take a few hundred. Same problem, new script.
Meta lost $4 billion in Reality Labs in the first quarter of this year alone. CNBC reports the unit has accumulated over $80 billion in operating losses since late 2020. That tells you how bad things are from a management and strategy standpoint. I don’t even need to call an insider to confirm the mess.
As I have said before, the greatest myth in this business is that the technology industry is some kind of mystical master of efficiency and modern management.
I’m not criticizing pandemic over-hiring, but that bill has come due. Smart Steve told me “since everyone worked from home during COVID, the costs of office space and effective onboarding for new staff were nil. So, like a bear getting fat before winter we saw companies staffing up (over staffing) as a hedge against an unknown.”
Friends, I’m retired but I live on my investments. So I try to stay tuned into what’s happening and it’s no surprise to me that companies are lying to us about the immediate impact of Artificial Intelligence on their performance. It sounds better than “we mistakenly hired thousands of people and failed to make them productive.”
If you find yourself looking for work, please don’t despair. You may end up working in a field you never before considered. But you will find work. Unless you’re a cold blooded Wharton finance bro bound for Singapore, the USA remains the last good place to work and live. Please also acknowledge that believe it or not, our country is now at war and that impacts many parts of our economy.
Om Malik writes at
Meditations on technology, science, future, life, and photography Hi, I am Om. Photo by Chris Michel I am a San Francisco-based writer, pho
Smart Steve writes regularly on LinkedIn, but he’s practically family and giving out his information kills the anonymity I enjoy around here.
"You're clueless, you know that?" - Reader x Eddie Munson & Reader x Steve Harrington (fake)
Summary: You agree to accompany Steve to Enzo's for Valentine's Day with only one shared goal in mind - to make Eddie so jealous he has no choice but to have the one conversation he's being avoiding.
Pairings: F!Reader x Steve Harrington & F!Reader x Eddie Munson.
Chapter: 1 of 1.
W/C: 2314.
A/N: Happy Valentines Day, besties! This trope paired with Steve and Eddie has had me in a chokehold for a while now and I'm so happy that the lil ADHD gremlin in my brain has finally let me write the damn thing. <3
This one-shot can also be found on AO3 here.
“You really think that’ll work? Pretending to go on a date with you?” you asked, leaning against the counter at Family Video.
“It better work. Personally, I’m sick of hearing you pine over him. He’s had a thing for you ever since you joined Hellfire but he’s completely clueless when it comes to all the hints you’ve dropped,” Robin chimed in without looking up from the ‘returns’ pile of videotapes she was sorting through.
Clueless didn’t even begin to cut it.
You’d known about Eddie’s crush on you for months now, ever since Dustin slipped up and spilled the beans at lunch one day. The poor kid made you swear on your own life that you wouldn’t tell Eddie you knew.
True to your word, you kept the secret and began dropping hints instead. Eddie couldn’t read the room to save his life.
Any time you caught him staring, he’d break eye contact before you could smile back at him. Any time your hands accidentally touched, he’d move his hand away and play it off if you didn’t keep your hand perfectly still.
“I think it’s perfect,” Steve smiled. “There’s nothing like a bit of jealously to make you realise what you want.”
“I dunno,” you mumbled, chewing your cheek while you weighed up your options.
“When he sees you all dolled up, thinking it’s for me, the dots will connect. Trust me.”
“Fine, I’ll find out when he’s working.”
-
Steve’s plan had been in the back of your mind the whole time you’d been sitting around the table with your fellow Hellfire members. It was a long game of highs and lows all night. Despite the distraction, you’d manage to come out of the battle victorious with a mere five health points left. The party, albeit a little bruised and battered, was one step closer to defeating Myrkul and Eddie was in a good mood.
It took the usual fifteen minutes to pack up Eddie’s maps, dice, tokens, and other various game pieces before you climbed into the passenger side of his van. “Sorry for the mess,” Eddie apologised.
“You say that every week and yet you never clean it.”
“I do, it just gets messy again,” he smirked.
You were halfway home when you glanced over at Eddie. His hair was frizzy, sticking up in places from all the near misses in battle where he’d had his hands running through it. The rings on his left hand were glowing gently from the reflection of his lit cigarette as he used it to control the steering wheel. His right hand was methodically fiddling with the busted cassette player that he’d been meaning to fix for months. As always when Eddie was concentrating, his tongue was sticking out and resting against his top lip.
“Got it!” he exclaimed as Rainbow in the Dark started blasting from the speaker, a huge grin spread across his face.
“When are you going to buy a new one?” you chuckled, prodding at the battered box.
“Stop touching it,” he slapped your hand away. “It’ll start crackling again. I’ve picked up some overtime next weekend, I’m hoping the gents will be tipping big to impress their dates.”
“No Valentine’s plan with anyone special then?”
“Nope, just work. Doubt there’s anyone out there who would want to spend their Valentine’s Day with the ‘Freak of Hawkins’ anyway.”
“You’d be surprised, some people like their men a little freaky.”
“What about you? Any plans?” he asked, the change in tone rather subtle.
For a moment, you weren’t sure if you were going to go through with the plan. Steve’s words echoed through your mind listed the pros and cons. ‘Trust me.’
“Yeah, I’ve got a date at Enzo's. At least I don’t have to worry about it going bad now if you’re working, you can come over and scare him off for me.”
“That’s great. Wow, a date. Um, yeah, I’ll fend him off for you if things go pear-shaped. Do I, uh, know the guy?” he stuttered.
“I don’t want to jinx it,” you answered, remembering Robin's claims that a little bit of mystery would be the key to the whole plan working.
“Of course,” Eddie agreed, a sarcastically dumb look plastered on his face. You couldn’t help but notice that this was exactly how he used to act when Dustin mentioned Steve. “Would you look at that? Here we are. Once again, dropped off in one piece, as requested.”
“You okay, Ed?” you ask, one eyebrow raised.
“Yep. Fine. Tired,” he mumbled through an unconvincing yawn. “Long game. I’m gonna go and, uh, get some sleep. Night.”
-
“And he said it exactly like that?” Steve asked.
“Yes, Steve, how many times do I have to go through it? He basically kicked me out of the van,” you answered.
“It’s definitely working.”
“Are you sure?”
“One hundred percent. Wait until he finds out it’s me, he’s gonna freak.”
“He might not react at all. Believe it or not, he is professional at work.”
“Bet on it?”
“Shut up.”
-
Eddie had been an asshole all week.
Jeff and Gareth got the worst of it. You, however, had been getting the silent treatment. It was Thursday lunchtime when Eddie finally acknowledged you again.
“So, what are your plans this weekend?” Dustin asked Mike.
“Movies with El then dinner, you?”
“Arcade with Will. What about you, Eddie?”
“Work and band, why?”
“It’s called small talk,” Dustin answered. “What is with you this week?”
“Nothing, I’m fine,” he snapped.
“Tell your face that, man,” added Jeff.
“Lay off it. Why don’t you ask her what she’s doing this weekend instead and leave me alone?” Eddie prompted, gesturing in your direction. He did not stick around to hear the answer, walking away dramatically.
“Well, what are you doing?” asked Dustin.
“I’ve got a date,” you answered quickly and quietly, sinking into your seat as a sense of guilt began to creep up on you.
“You what?!” asked Gareth.
“I said I’ve got a date.”
“Yeah, I heard you. The fuck do you mean you’ve got a date? With who?”
“Does it matter?” you ask asked.
“Evidently it does. I’ve been taking the brunt of his crap all week and you’re telling me it’s because you’re going on a date?”
“How was I supposed to know he’d react like this?” you quickly try to defend yourself.
“Are you blind?” Jeff asks.
“No, but he is. I’ve dropped hints. Lots of them. If he doesn’t want to acknowledge it then that’s on him.”
-
“Wow,” smiled Steve, looking you up and down. He took your hand, albeit rather dramatically, and began leading you to the car.
“Save it for the restaurant, you dingus. Does this look okay then?” you ask.
“The dress alone might kill him, never mind the heels and hair.”
Ten minutes later, Steve parked up outside Enzo's.
“When we get in there, sit with your back to the bar. You’re about to get the full Harrington charm, okay?” he asked.
“Got it.”
“Hi there, table for two under Harrington,” Steve told the hostess.
“Follow me.”
“Here we are,” the hostess said as she gestured to a small table. “Here are your menus, the waiter will be over to take your order shortly.”
“Thank you,” you replied, taking the seat that Steve had pulled out for you.
“So,” you began.
“So,” Steve replied with a grin.
“I’m not going to lie, Steve, I feel really awkward.”
“I can tell,” he responded. “Relax. We’re just two friends, dressed up, and having a nice meal. Loosen up a little and have fun, or this isn’t going to work.”
You tried to relax, really, you did. But you couldn’t help shake the feeling that Eddie was burning holes into the back of your head with his staring.
“Welcome to Enzo's, my name is Ruben and I’ll be your server this evening. Any drinks to start?”
“Sparkling water for me, and…” Steve prompted.
“Lemonade, please.”
“Awesome, I’ll get that put in at the bar for you. Any starters today?”
“Do you-” Steve began, turning his attention back to you.
“More of a dessert person,” you answer.
“Me too,” smiled Ruben. “What mains would you like?”
“Lasagne for me, please,” answered Steve.
“Chicken Alfredo, please.”
“Awesome. I’ll get all that put in for you, enjoy your evening.”
“Thank you, ‘preciate that,” Steve told him before he left the table.
After a couple of minutes of the usual “how was work?” and “how was school?” small talk, Steve’s gaze quickly shot behind you as he sat up a little bit straighter.
“Here’s your lemonade,” Eddie announced, placing the glass down in front of you.
“Thanks, Eddie. How’s your shift?” you asked with a smile.
“So-so. Started going downhill about twenty minutes ago,” he answered.
“Nothing worse than a shitty Friday shift,” Steve chimed in.
“Evening rush,” Eddie responded, unwilling to meet Steve’s gaze. “Everything okay over here?”
“Great, thank you,” you respond.
“Harrington,” Eddie muttered, placing Steve’s water in front of him with a little bit more force than he did the lemonade, before heading back to the bar.
“He won’t even look at me, this is working even better than I thought,” Steve chuckled.
-
One hour and one chicken alfredo later, Ruben returned.
“Well you two are looking cosy over here,” he told you. Steve had been giving you cues on how to sit and when to laugh all evening. “How about that dessert? I highly recommend the ‘brownie and ice cream for two.’ Chef special tonight.”
“Sounds perfect,” answered Steve.
“Alrighty, that’ll be about ten to fifteen minutes. Any more drinks?”
“The same again, please,” you answer.
A couple of minutes later, Steve gave another instruction.
“Rest your left arm on the table.”
“What?”
“Now.”
Steve let out a sudden laugh and adjusted himself in his seat. He placed his arm on the table, his fingertips slightly brushing against your own.
A loud crashing noise from behind you had heads rolling to see what was going on. Every pair of eyes in the restaurant landed on Eddie.
“Sorry folks,” he announced. Eddie quickly began picking up the larger shards of glass whilst another bartender brought over cloths and a broom.
“Hook, line, and sinker,” Steve whispered, loud enough for only you to hear.
-
You really were getting the full Harrington charm, as promised. Steve had been feeding you brownie on and off for ten minutes, his glancing over to Eddie quickly now and again.
“It’s almost time,” Steve whispered.
“Time for what?”
“The grand finale.”
Steve leaned in slightly and wiped the side of your mouth gently with his thumb. “Ice cream,” he smirked.
“Is that really necessary?”
“One hundred percent. On my cue, you’re going to excuse yourself to go to the bathroom,” he began.
“But-”
“If this whole fake date has gone to plan, which by the way has been lovely, then I do believe Munson won’t let you make it that far. Go now.”
As instructed, you excused yourself from the table and made your way towards the bathroom. Just as you got to the door you felt a hand close softly around your wrist.
“Hey, can we talk?” Eddie asked.
“Everything okay?”
“No, actually, it’s not,” he answered. Eddie glanced around before pulling you through a door labelled ‘staff only’.
“Eddie, wha-”
“You can’t date Steve.”
“I can date whoever I like Eddie,” you respond.
“Why him?” he asked, his hand still wrapped lightly around your wrist.
“Why not?”
“Because,” he began, pausing in thought. “Because he’s… he’s got a reputation. Surely you’ve heard all the rumours?”
“And we both know him well enough to know he’s not that person anymore,” you answer, your gaze locking with Eddie’s who, surprisingly, held it.
“You just can’t, please,” he pleaded.
“Give me a good enough reason as to why I shouldn’t go back out there and I won’t.”
Eddie stayed silent for a few moments, his big, brown eyes locked on yours. The small staff room became stuffy all of a sudden, the air so thick it felt like you could barely breathe. You held your ground, waiting for him to speak, but he didn’t. You stared back at Eddie, your eyes pleading with him to just say something. Anything.
You broke your gaze from Eddie’s and turned towards the door, ready to give up and go home. Eddie’s grip on your wrist tightened and he pulled you back towards him, using his free hand to cup your face as his lips met yours.
You weren’t sure how long you’d been there, Eddie kissing you, but it felt like forever. The tension in the air vanished, leaving you with a cozy feeling deep in your stomach, where the butterflies used to live.
“You can do better than him. You deserve better than him. You deserve someone who knows that you take extra sugar in your coffee when you’re studying. Someone who knows that you’re a completely evil genius in the best way possible when it comes to D&D. Someone who knows you’d rather be in bed with a book at-” he glanced at his watch, “nine o’clock at night. Someone who apparently isn’t very good at making the first move.”
“You’re clueless, you know that?”
“I am?”
“Yeah,” you replied, leaning in to kiss him again.
If it wasn’t for Ruben who knows how long you would have stood there, entwined together, lost in the moment.
“Hey man, you heading home?” Eddie asked casually, placing a little distance between the two of you.
“I was, but turns out I’m staying late. Guy with the hair on table twelve tipped me a hundred bucks to finish your bar shift and fetch a fresh brownie out. Said you ‘owe him one’ and you can ‘square it up later’. Brownie will be out in five. Enjoy.”
Maybe I’m reading too much suits fic but what if Steve had an eidetic memory after getting hit in the head so much. Like yes he has hearing loss but it clicked something in his brain and now he can remember like everything. But he hides it cause he doesn’t want people to bug him about it so he pretends to still be dumb but in reality he’s like super smart.
Robin figured it out at the video store at first she’s sneaky trying to test him with where videos are and stuff and then she confronts him and is like?? Wtf? And he’s like please don’t say anything to the kids I can’t deal with that.
And Eddie finds out cause they’re having a movie date night and he hears Steve muttering the lines of the movie. They’re rewatching some movie Steve said he’d watched once at the store and thought Eddie would like. So Eddie watches him quote the entire movie and he’s like “why do you let people think you’re stupid”
Steve freezes. “What do you mean?”
“You said you saw that movie once at the video store and you know every word, babe.”
“I just really liked it…?” He tries to play it off.
Eddie just gives him a don’t even try look.
“Okay,” he relents “I have this weird memory I don’t even know how to explain it but I don’t forget stuff anymore. Ever since the Russians. I guess when you get your head beat in enough you can get some pretty interesting results.”
“Baby, you’re like a genius why didn’t you say?”
“Because how do you explain going from barely passing high school and not even getting into college to being some freaky smart guy?”
“Okay I guess that makes sense. But why didn’t you tell me?” Eddie asks a little sadly.
“Eds, it’s not that I didn’t want to tell you but I was scared you would think it’s weird or something or maybe it will go away and then I’ll be back to being dumb then what will I do. You’d get bored or something” Steve is getting emotional he didn’t want to keep it from Eddie but he was just scared.
Eddie reaches out to him and grabs his face in his hands and peppers his face with kisses between sweet names “baby,” kiss “sugar” kiss “sweetheart” kiss he leans back to look in Steve’s eyes “I will never get bored of you and you were never dumb. If anything I’m the dumb one it only took me 3 years and an apocalypse to graduate.”
“Eddie no-“ steve starts but gets interrupted.
“See the way you feel about me talking about my own shit is the way I feel when you call yourself stupid. Or when you let the kids do it. I fucking hate that shit, baby. You can’t let them do that anymore okay?”
Steve nods. “I don’t think I’m gonna tell them really yet especially since I don’t even truly understand it but I’m gonna stop dumbing myself down. I promise.”
“Good. I’m so proud of you. Crazy memory or not. I also may love you a little” Eddie says while making a bringing his thumb and finger a short distance apart.
“Just a little?” Steve giggles.
“Maybe more than a little” Eddie says kissing him.
“I’m gonna remember that” Steve says catching his breath.
So, I’m working out some details for this story that I’m writing, Take Up Your Shield and Follow Me. I’m at the point where I’m puzzling out the details of a section after Bucky’s been recovered, and he’s got a number of physiological and psychological issues as a result of injuries, being weaned off drugs Hydra used to keep him compliant, and some other stuff that I won’t go into here (spoilers, Sweetie!).
In order to treat Bucky in situ, there will be therapists and specialists traipsing through Stark Tower on a regular basis, but they won’t be there 24/7. So Steve and the Avengers – mostly Steve, since the rule of “you bring it home, you paper train it and clean up after it” applies here – all have to meet with various specialists and therapists to get trained on the do’s, don’t’s, and hell-no-you’d-never-do-that’s. The care and feeding of a recovering Winter Soldier.
And every therapist and specialist always repeats instructions, asks Steve to repeat back what he’s been told, and asks if he’s got that, or if he can handle it, or will he remember that, etc. Finally, Steve’s had enough. Yes, even Steve Rogers can reach the end of his Olympian patience.
“Look, I know that everyone in the Avengers thinks of me as their idiot cousin from Passaic. But they’re wrong. I ain’t an idiot, and I sure ain’t from Passaic. But I was always a smart guy – not first in my class, but right up there. Valedictorian was the only person in our class less popular than me. Thing is, I probably could have avoided a lot of fights over the years if I’d been willing to do the big lug’s homework. But the serum? That didn’t just enhance my body. It enhanced my brain. I can remember things. I can remember what I had for breakfast on December 21, 1942. I can’t forget the look on Bucky’s face when he fell from the train into that ravine. I probably could triangulate and calculate the distance he fell from memory, but I would never want to do that.
“I can’t help but remember. The serum gave me an eidetic memory. So, can I remember some instructions, in the right order? Pretty sure I got that. Remembering is easy. It’s forgetting that’s impossible.
“And as for handling stuff? I’m not fragile, and I’m no porcelain doll. No matter what Tony Stark thinks or says. I survived the Depression, losing both my parents, more near-death experiences than you’ve had hot lunches,” he added pointedly, glancing at the therapist’s rail-thin physique. “Not to mention having my body taken apart down to the cellular level and my bones ground to dust to make this,” he waved impatiently at his body. “I’ve planned and executed more successful military campaigns against Hydra and the Nazis than any other military commander in the War – I checked. And let’s not forget the Chitauri. I won’t ever be able to forget the Chitauri. If you can, you’re luckier than I am.
“And if you’re concerned about me projecting on him, pushing my agenda on him, you can forget that too. I’m used to putting my own needs behind the needs of the mission. The mission always comes first. And now, my mission is to help Bucky recover, whatever that means. So, whatever he needs, that’s the mission, and that takes precedence over anything I need.
“So, if you’re questioning if I can remember, if I can follow instructions, if I can be observant and recognize the triggers and tells and do what I can to head off an attack before it starts, and if I can cope, the answer is hell yeah. I’m playing the long game, and I’m in this ‘til … well, I’m in it to win it,” he concludes, not falling back on that phrase that means so much to him and Buck. But it was true. He was in this to win this.
Coda
"Well, Captain Rogers, thank you. That helps a lot. But if I may ... if the serum enhanced your brain as you say, why is it that you still struggle with modern technology?"
Steve looked at her quizzically, then huffed a laugh, smiling into a chuckle. "I don't struggle. I don't like it. It does all kinds of amazing things, but people spend so much time on their tablets and their phones and their laptops and everything, they've lost the fine art of conversation. Look at you," he nodded toward her fingers that twitched ever so slightly. "You can't wait to get back to it, and yet you're sitting here talking to me. Am I not interesting? Do you not have a responsibility to be 'in the moment' with me now?"
"Well, I -"
"Plus, it really pisses Tony Stark off. That's a bonus." His smile grew incandescent. "Guy's gotta have a hobby."
