It’s early in the morning on October 4, 2016, and in a few seconds, Rick Osterloh will present Google’s latest gadget portfolio to the world. He’s not even six months into his new job, creating and running the company’s ambitious new hardware division. In April, CEO Sundar Pichai had tasked Osterloh with turning the software giant into a gadget maker that can compete with Apple. Osterloh has barely had enough time to sample all the snacks in the mini-kitchen, much less conceive of and ship a bunch of products. Yet here he is, tall and broad, clad in a gray short-sleeved Henley top, visibly nervous as he enters stage left and greets a roomful of reporters and analysts in a converted chocolate factory at the top of a San Francisco hill.
It can’t help Osterloh’s nerves that minutes earlier, Pichai was out on the same stage making a grand case for the historical significance of this day. “We’re at a seminal moment in computing,” Pichai told the audience, as he explained how artificial intelligence would create a revolution on the scale of the internet or the smartphone. Google’s efforts centered on Google Assistant, a virtual helper that Pichai had first announced a few months earlier. Assistant promised to create a “personal Google” for everyone on earth that would help them find information, get things done, and live life more efficiently and enjoyably. Pichai made clear that Assistant was a bet-the-company kind of product, and that Google was deeply invested in building the gadgets that would put Assistant in people’s hands. Then he introduced the new guy, Osterloh, who was going to make it happen.
Over the next hour, Osterloh and his new coworkers introduce a half-dozen products, including the Pixel phone, the Home smart speaker, and the Daydream View VR headset. None of them were Osterloh’s idea—the folks in Mountain View had been building hardware long before his arrival. It’s just that most of it wasn’t very good or successful.
Google could no longer afford to make ho-hum gadgets. Alphabet, its parent company, had become the world’s second-largest corporation by building software that worked for everyone, everywhere, delivered through apps and websites. But the nature of computing is changing, and its next phase won’t revolve around app stores and smartphones. It will center instead on artificially intelligent devices that fit seamlessly into their owners’ everyday lives. It will feature voice assistants, simple wearables, smart appliances in homes, and augmented-reality gadgets on your face and in your brain.
In other words, the future involves a whole lot more hardware, and for Google that shift represents an existential threat. Users won’t go to Google.com to search for things; they’ll just ask their Echo because it’s within earshot, and they won’t care what algorithms it uses to answer the question. Or they’ll use Siri, because it’s right there in a button on their iPhone. Google needed to figure out, once and for all, how to compete with the beautiful gadgets made by Amazon, Apple, and everyone else in tech. Especially the ones coming out of Cupertino.
Google does have some huge advantages—its software and AI capabilities are unrivaled. But the company has tried over and over to build hardware the same way it builds software and learned every time that that’s simply not how it works. Its supposedly innovative streaming device, the Nexus Q, flopped dramatically. Its “best in class” Nexus phones were eclipsed by competitors—and even its own hardware partners—within months. And Google Glass, well, you know what happened with Google Glass.
Osterloh wasn’t hired to dream up new products. He was brought in to teach a software company how to endure the long, messy, totally necessary process of building gadgets and to change the company’s culture from the inside. It’s not enough to have great software and the industry’s finest collection of artificial intelligence researchers. To take on Apple, Google had to finally learn how to build good hardware.
The man in charge of Google’s hardware renaissance has always had a weakness for gadgets. Growing up in Los Angeles, Osterloh has fond memories of taking apart the junk computers in his dad’s office and trying, unsuccessfully, to reassemble them into one epic supercomputer. Yet his first love was sports. Tall and athletic from an early age, Osterloh was an all-section volleyball and basketball player, and he enrolled in Stanford not because of its Silicon Valley cred but because it was a great school in California where he could keep playing sports.
In his freshman year, however, he sustained two knee injuries that threatened to end his athletic career. Osterloh hit an emotional bottom. “So much of my identity was in athletics, and I had to totally reinvent,” he says. He started seeking other ways to feel the same highs he did in sports: a team working toward a common goal, the thrill of accomplishment, the joy of the daily grind. He found his way into an engineering program and worked hard to make up for his late start in the major. Something about computers engaged the strategic, problem-solving part of his brain that had once been filled with inbounds plays.
Osterloh is still a sports nut—his Google office is easy to find, it’s the one with the huge poster of Warriors star Stephen Curry on the window—but the tech industry quickly became his home. After graduating in 1994, Osterloh landed a consulting gig, but he didn’t like that all he made was documents and presentations. So he went back to Stanford, this time for business school. After a summer internship at Amazon, he took a job at the venture capital firm Kleiner Perkins Caufield Byers, where he researched possible investments in mobile technology. BlackBerry was starting to generate interest, and Osterloh dove into a case study of it. He set up BlackBerry’s first device, the Inter@ctive Pager, and was amazed by how well the little messaging machine worked. He couldn’t stop thinking about it.
Kleiner had a company called Good Technology in its investment portfolio, and it sent Osterloh to help it figure out a business model. Originally, Good’s plan was to build modules for the Handspring Visor, a modular PDA that many thought would be the next big computing platform. Good’s first device was an MP3 player module called SoundsGood. But the Visor never took off, and the SoundsGood sold terribly. Osterloh presented a new idea: Let’s compete with BlackBerry. He thought Good could develop simple syncing and messaging software, and because BlackBerry by this point had become immensely powerful and valuable, any competitive idea was attractive to investors. Good raised millions.
Good was supposed to be a software company, but it needed a vessel for its code. The leadership team met with BlackBerry, which had recently begun making smartphones. Once BlackBerry execs saw what Good had built, “they hated it, because it was way better than their software,” Osterloh says. “And they realized we were an enemy, not a friend.” Palm and Danger were working on smartphones, as was Nokia, but none could match a BlackBerry. It became clear to Osterloh and Good that the only way to give their software a home was to build devices themselves. They began working on a BlackBerry-like gadget they called the G100.
Osterloh lights up remembering the days he spent building the G100. “It was so fun going through the design process, testing it with users,” he says. Everything about it was new and complicated: getting the keyboard just right, tweaking the trackball until it felt perfect, making sure the battery lasted several days. “It was so hard shipping that product,” Osterloh says. “When we shipped that thing, I was like, ‘This is what I want to do forever.’” Not only had he found his calling, he’d learned that the only way to get the most from your software was to build the hardware to match.
Unfortunately for Osterloh, Good didn’t want to make hardware forever. The G100 shipped in 2002 to rave reviews, but others in the company saw it as a mere reference device, a blueprint of sorts for other companies to follow and tweak. They assumed the phone industry would turn out like PCs: Many companies would produce hardware that all ran the same software. Yet there were no good phones to build for. “We went through this desert of terrible device after terrible device that never ran our stuff properly,” Osterloh says. Good built software for every phone it could find, eventually even working with contract manufacturers like HTC to try to improve the experience, but it never again found something that worked as well as the G100. “Businesses would come to us and say, ‘We love your software, but we hate Treos,’” Osterloh says, referring to the smartphone line from Palm. He never forgot that.
In 2006, Good was bought by Motorola, the onetime feature phone giant whose reign was under siege from smartphone makers. Motorola had no real software expertise and no plan for smartphones, and Good came riding in like a white knight. But the timing couldn’t have been worse. Only days after the acquisition closed, Motorola’s Razr, once an incredible cash cow, stopped selling almost overnight. Apple announced the iPhone not long after. Osterloh knew it was coming: Before the Motorola deal, he and Good had worked with Apple to build Good’s software into the new device. He told his bosses, many of whom dismissed Apple’s touchscreen oddity, that they were laughing in the face of the future.
While he’d been meeting with Apple, Osterloh and Good had also been working to integrate their software with an operating system for smartphones called Android. Now, as a Motorola employee, he saw Android as the company’s one defense against the iPhone. Osterloh became convinced that the only hope for Motorola was to produce a competing smartphone as fast as possible, and that meant using Android. Eventually Motorola came around, largely due to the efforts of new CEO Sanjay Jha, who showed up in 2008 and almost immediately shut down every division but its Android one. Osterloh helped create and ship the Cliq and later the Droid, which was the first great Android phone and the device that saved Motorola.
Not long after, Osterloh left for Skype, where he spent two years as head of product. But his break from the hardware world was brief. Google was in the process of buying Motorola for $12.5 billion and was looking to place new leadership at the company. Dennis Woodside, a longtime Google exec who had been chosen to lead Motorola, and Jonathan Rosenberg, a senior vice president at Google and longtime adviser to the company’s founders, called Osterloh to see if he might want to come back and lead Motorola’s product management team.
Google’s offer seemed like a perfect match, a chance to build hardware within Google, working alongside the now wildly successful Android team. With Google controlling both hardware and software, they could at last take on the iPhone.
Except that’s not how it turned out. Terrified of alienating its other Android partners, like Samsung and LG, Google went to great lengths to keep Motorola at arm’s length. “There was effectively no technical integration,” Osterloh says. “And that wasn’t quite what I expected.” He thought he would bring software and hardware together at last, but instead Motorola was treated as a wholly separate company. “It was tantalizingly close to my dream job,” he says. “But it never quite got there.”
Google’s relationship with hardware has always been awkward. Most of the company’s physical products are born the same way: Someone has a great idea for software, but they can’t find the right gear on which to run it. That person then sets out to build the missing gadget with very little help. Google tends to treat these products as reference devices or sources of inspiration, proving that an idea can work and hoping an ecosystem of hardware makers takes it from there. As a result, Google’s list of orphaned products and abandoned ideas—from the Chromebox to the Nexus Q to the Nexus Player—is enough to fill a Circuit City.
That's no surprise: Making hardware runs counter to Google’s entire corporate culture. The company shuns process and management, two things a hardware maker can’t do without. In its software development, Google actually encourages and applauds chaos, inviting anyone at the company to just build something and see if it works. (At one point, Google even experimented with a corporate structure involving no managers whatsoever.)
The company’s most successful products are subject to constant refinement. Former CEO Eric Schmidt calls this system “Ship and Iterate,” and in his book How Google Works he makes a consistent case for not even trying to get things right the first time. “Create a product, ship it, see how it does, design and implement improvements, and push it back out,” Schmidt writes. “Ship and iterate. The companies that are the fastest at this process will win.” When Google became Alphabet, all the company’s longer-term projects broke off, to give them breathing room away from Google’s ruthless product scythe. They were all called “moonshots,” as if anything that takes longer than a year might as well be impossible.
Ship and Iterate simply doesn’t work with hardware. A single tweak can cost weeks and millions of dollars. Every small change ripples through the entire supply chain, changing vendor timelines, requiring new tools, and slowing everything down. If one part is late, you’ll miss your ship date, and it’s not like you can move Black Friday. Oh, you want 50 percent more product than you thought? You’ll get it in six months if you’re lucky. There is no bending the hardware world to your whim.
Even when hardware development was going well, company culture didn’t support those teams in getting the software they needed. “We had to go beg and plead to make all the software teams care,” says Rishi Chandra, the Googler charged with building the failed Google TV platform in 2010 and later with developing Google Home. The engineers working on Chrome or Android were used to building products that would touch millions, even billions of people. They’d ask Chandra, how is your thing going to get that many users? And why should we care until it does? The culture is almost the antithesis of Apple’s. There, the software executives always work with specific products in mind; senior VP of software engineering Craig Federighi’s goal is to make the iPhone great, just like everyone else at the company. Google’s priorities are comparatively all over the map, as it tries to support its own products, its partners, and the whole internet-using universe all at the same time.
At Google, the culture revolves around software. That’s what it's best at and where it makes its billions. With its push for a virtual assistant, that ethos was no different. Except that this time the stakes seemed much higher.
Pichai was certain that this helpful chatterbot would be the way billions of people interacted with Google in the future. Done right, Assistant could be an omnipresent artificial being, able to help with all the tasks and requests people have throughout the day—whether on their phones, a device like Google Home, or the lightbulbs, dishwashers and thermostats that will soon come online. It would connect people with information and services in ways that are more natural, more contextually aware, and more helpful than what is possible with only keyboards and screens. It might even inspire people to use Google more. Oh, and if Google didn’t get it right? Amazon’s Alexa, Apple’s Siri, and Microsoft’s Cortana were ready to swoop in.
In these early days of voice tech, users still struggle to figure out what their assistants can do beyond setting timers and playing music. Yet the only way for Assistant to improve is for Google to convince people that it’s worth interacting with now. Google needs more data to understand more voices, accomplish more tasks, and convince developers to extend its functionality and incorporate Assistant in their own products. A key first step was making sure Assistant was always easily accessible, no matter where you were.
When Google had built hardware in the past, it had done so through partnerships with seasoned manufacturers. But its relationships with its Android partners were souring. Samsung, Android’s most important partner, was developing its own virtual assistant, Bixby, and distancing itself from the Mountain View giant. Google couldn’t even rely on its traditional Nexus program, through which Google would work with a manufacturer like LG or Huawei to build new devices. Those relationships gave Google little control over anything besides aesthetics, and partners would often keep their best tricks for themselves. “Last year, [HTC] helped us build Pixel, and then a few months later, they shipped the U11, and that phone had the best smartphone camera in the industry,” Osterloh says. Virtually every Nexus device was quickly followed by an even better handset from that same partner.
Unfortunately, Google had already divested itself of its own hardware expertise, selling Motorola to Lenovo in 2014 for about $3 billion. Nest, its other giant hardware acquisition, had lost its founder and was embroiled in management and product turmoil. If Google wanted to do hardware, it needed to start over—and this time, to do it all inside Google.
As the company was preparing to bring hardware in-house for real in early 2016, Osterloh was leaving Motorola. He didn’t want to move to China, where Lenovo is headquartered, and he’d landed an offer to become CEO of DocuSign, the electronic document-signing company. He called Jonathan Rosenberg, his longtime adviser and confidant, to thank him for all his help during Osterloh’s time at Google. Rosenberg stopped him in the middle: “You said I was helpful, right?” Yes, absolutely, Osterloh replied. “Well, would you do me a favor and have a conversation with Sundar?” Rosenberg asked. He told Osterloh that Pichai was looking to start a hardware group and wanted some advice. Just advice, nothing else.
Osterloh’s meeting with Pichai quickly turned into a job interview, with lots of questions on both sides. In many hours over a few days, Osterloh realized Pichai was actually, finally, talking about his dream job. He also started to believe that Google was at long last serious about making hardware.
But Osterloh had been burned before. So he tracked down Hiroshi Lockheimer, the head of Google’s Android team, who had worked with him at Good and also happened to be among Osterloh’s closest friends. They spent a whole day together talking about how they might once again be colleagues. Osterloh asked question after question about how hardware and software would integrate, and how building hardware internally could co-exist with the rest of the Android ecosystem. “I didn’t want to join the company if it was going to be like Motorola, where it’s difficult and there’s tension,” Osterloh says. He found the opposite: Google was ready, serious, and prepared to make hardware a priority. So Osterloh called DocuSign and told them that he wouldn’t be taking the CEO job after all. Then he became a Googler again, this time for real.
Immediately upon his arrival, Osterloh set out with Rosenberg to find every hardware project happening at Google, no matter how small. They found more than a dozen projects involving upwards of 1,000 people. Some were working on Nexus phones, others on a new line called Pixel. There were hugely publicized long-term projects like Google Glass and the Project Ara modular smartphone. Some Googlers were building Chromebooks, others were working on a new kind of Wi-Fi router. No centralized structure connected these teams, nor was there an overall plan. Osterloh called it a loose federation, “the European Union of hardware.” And he didn’t mean that in a good way.
Osterloh centralized all that hardware under his leadership, giving 55 percent of those 1,000 employees a new manager. Rather than having an executive in charge of each product, Osterloh chose to implement a “functional” structure, giving his leaders oversight of a larger segment of the Google hardware organization. Ivy Ross, formerly head of Google Glass, was put in charge of all hardware design. Mario Queiroz ran product management. Ana Corrales, a longtime manufacturing exec and Nest’s CFO and COO, was tapped to oversee all things operations and supply chain. The team began to centralize their planning and forecasting, and to streamline their conversations with suppliers. They made five-year plans, which were anathema to Google.
Osterloh’s current and former colleagues describe him as a kind man and a good boss. “The thing I appreciate most with Rick is that he is really about preaching patience,” Chandra says. In conversation he’s voluble and excitable, prone to answering simple questions with a 45-minute response. He is, according to past and present colleagues, perfect for this job: great attention to detail, slow to panic, quick to decisions. Above all, he’s a huge product geek. “He changes phones all the time, and he wants us to change phones all the time,” Corrales says. “I don’t want to change phones all the time!”
Part of the impetus for Osterloh’s new structure was to make sure nobody felt like their job was tied to one product, so they wouldn’t panic if that product were killed. Because Osterloh needed to kill some products.
He went through every hardware initiative at Google, choosing which to continue and which to wind down. None of the decisions was easy, Osterloh says, but two were particularly hard. He’d been around the Ara modular phone project since its beginnings at Motorola and believed fully in its mission: to build a $50 phone with upgradeable parts, which could last longer and be greener than any other device. Yet the device ended up being less modular and more expensive than anyone wanted. “So it was rather like every other phone, except there was an ability to add up to six or so modules to the back,” Osterloh says. He wanted to build one phone, not many, so he shut Ara down.
With Google Glass, too, Osterloh understood the vision but couldn’t figure out how to achieve it quickly. He ticks off the things you’d need to make a great face-worn augmented-reality device that aren’t yet possible: longer-lasting batteries in smaller packages, faster processors that generate less heat, and a populace ready to use such devices. “In the long run, this is going to be a key part of what we do,” he says. “But the timing is a key uncertainty.” In the meantime, Osterloh re-released Glass as an enterprise tool, where it found a surprising niche with factory workers and warehouse employees.
While he was re-writing org charts and culling product lines, Osterloh had also been working with the higher-ups at Google to figure out what, exactly, Google’s hardware strategy should entail. They coined platitudes like “radical helpfulness” and sought ways to communicate humanity and approachability, but mostly they focused on three words, in a very specific order: AI, software, hardware.
He had to embrace the fact that even as Google gets serious about gadgets, the company’s focus is, and always will be, elsewhere. Osterloh is fond of pointing out that Moore’s Law, which famously predicted the rapid rise in computational power, is mostly dead. It’s getting harder and harder to make fundamental leaps in power and capability. Google’s advantage, he says, is in its algorithms and neural networks. Osterloh’s job is to push Google’s AI capabilities more deeply into people’s lives.
For the new hardware team, the task was clear: Find more ways to get Google Assistant in front of people and build a sustainable business around it. Oh, and hurry, because Google is already behind, with Siri and Alexa already entrenched in consumers’ minds. Osterloh poured resources into the Pixel phone, a nascent project between a few Googlers and HTC, in which Google was taking on full responsibility for design and engineering for the first time and HTC was merely the manufacturer. The hope was that with this phone, at last, Google could give its software the physical form it needed. “We have a terrific ecosystem position with Android, but I think no one was really delivering the full Google experience,” Osterloh says.
Designing hardware and software in tandem allows for the detailed decision-making that makes people fall in love with their phones. Seang Chau, an engineering VP on the Google Pixel phone team, gives an example: For scrolling to be smooth and fast requires deep control of such factors as when to turn on the GPU, how to tune the processor, how to manage the power supply, even which cores of the chip run at any given time. “You pick up another phone that hasn’t had all those choices made, all those components chosen,” he says, and you notice the difference. Apple has been touting for years that its products excel because it builds both software and hardware; now Google is following suit.
Osterloh decided to flank the Pixel effort with other devices that were good matches for Assistant. Another team within Google had in the past released two terrific laptops, called Chromebook Pixel, that only saw limited commercial success. Osterloh told the team to go build something even lighter, thinner, and better—and to integrate Assistant. They decided to call it Pixelbook and set off on their way. A different group started working on headphones they called Pixel Buds that would provide access to Assistant without the need for a phone. The Google Home team and the Chromecast crew were also part of the push.
“Eventually, it will be the case that users probably have a constellation of devices to get things done,” Osterloh says. Google’s definitely thinking about tablets, definitely thinking about augmented-reality glasses, definitely thinking about wearables, and many more. But Osterloh speaks of “earning the right” to chase the buyers of those devices, of wanting to prove his team’s viability in existing markets.
With the employees of the hardware division settled into their new roles, Osterloh and his team started working out their production needs. He and Corrales toured manufacturers in Asia, telling them what Google was up to and how they’d be interacting going forward, and they brokered new deals with suppliers. In November 2017, Osterloh oversaw the $1.1 billion acquisition of an HTC division that brought more than 2,000 engineers to Google, many of them the same people who had spent the last decade building Nexus and Pixel devices as outside partners. The deal, Osterloh says, was “very important to help us scale faster. Hiring one at a time takes a long time, and our aspirations are to go faster.” In early 2018, Alphabet brought the entire Nest team under Osterloh's leadership, giving him control of the company's smart-home future as well.
There’s plenty of reason to rush. Apple and Samsung continue to push new competitive software onto their hardware, and new classes of devices are getting better all the time. Yet Osterloh notes time and again (and maybe partly as a reminder to himself) that building hardware is a slow process, that that’s a good thing, and that patience is a virtue. This moment is his chance to prove a career-long thesis about putting hardware and software together, and he wants to get it right. “There’s something big at stake here, both for him and the company,” says Ivy Ross, Google’s head of hardware design and one of Osterloh’s key lieutenants. “When you personally have a reason to drive, you’re just that much better.”
It’s now October 4, 2017, a year to the day since Osterloh first showed off the new generation of Google hardware.
The moment is familiar. Osterloh is wearing that same gray Henley and standing in the wings while Pichai explains that artificial intelligence is the future. This time, however, they’re at the SFJazz Center, a larger and more impressive venue. They’ve been rehearsing for weeks, tweaking the words and order of their presentations to better explain what Google is up to.
The biggest difference, Osterloh says, is that this time he knows the story. In 2016, he was trying to retrofit a grand narrative around many disconnected products that turned out to be well liked but only moderately successful. (Amazon’s Echo was still crushing Google Home, and the Pixel didn’t exactly dent the iPhone’s bottom line.) With 18 months behind him, Osterloh now gets to show the world what Google hardware really looks like.
As he takes the stage, clearly more confident than a year ago, Osterloh starts with another overview. He reminds the audience of the 2016 launch and mentions the recent HTC acquisition. “By working more closely together, we’ll be able to better integrate Google hardware and software,” he says. “And our products,” he continues, with a smile expressing something between joy, relief, and aggression, “have built up a lot of momentum going into our second year.” Then he throws to one of Google’s trademark sizzle reel videos, with everyone from YouTubers to Modern Family’s Phil Dunphy loving their Google Homes and Pixels.
Over the next 90 minutes, Osterloh and his leadership team introduce a litany of new products that have Assistant baked in. At every turn, rather than tout spec sheets, Osterloh explains how artificial intelligence can extract remarkable experiences from ordinary hardware. As he introduces the Pixel 2, he mentions that although it only has one camera, its software includes an algorithm trained on faces that can help it turn standard photos into beautiful portraits. Google tweaked the audio processor inside the Pixel Buds to streamline the experience of using Assistant through headphones and to enable real-time translation. The Home Max can adapt its audio output to any space to improve sound quality. A new camera called Clips identifies snapshot-worthy moments and takes photos and video all on its own. Osterloh and his team went through gadget after gadget, showing with each one how Google could make its products smarter than the competition.
The launch goes well, but not perfectly. Some users have issues with the Pixel 2 XL’s OLED screen, which Google selected to show off its cool, contextually aware software. Others find fault with the touch panel on the Home Mini, which was accidentally turning itself on and recording hours of audio. Reviewers praise the idea behind the Pixel Buds, but not every feature.
All these issues make Osterloh angry—“I lose sleep every time customers aren’t happy,” he says—but they seem to energize him as well. He knows how to handle these kinds of challenges: more rigorous process, tighter management. It’s typical hardware stuff, lessons he learned long ago. Unlike the previous year, however, this time Osterloh has a clear path forward. The products under his watch are part of a story that spans the whole company. With its mission ironed out, Google needs to do more than release devices. It needs to learn how to win.
The long read: Decades worth of research proves that chemicals used to make bacon do cause cancer. So how did the meat industry convince us it was safe?
There was a little cafe I used to go to that did the best bacon sandwiches. They came in a soft and pillowy white bap. The bacon, thick-cut from a local butcher, was midway between crispy and chewy. Ketchup and HP sauce were served in miniature jars with the sandwich, so you could dab on the exact amount you liked. That was all there was to it: just bread and bacon and sauce. Eating one of these sandwiches, as I did every few weeks, with a cup of strong coffee, felt like an uncomplicated pleasure.
And then, all of a sudden, the bacon sandwich stopped being quite so comforting. For a few weeks in October 2015, half the people I knew were talking about the news that eating bacon was now a proven cause of cancer. You couldnt miss the story: it was splashed large in every newspaper and all over the web. As one journalist wrote in Wired, Perhaps no two words together are more likely to set the internet aflame than BACON and CANCER. The BBC website announced, matter-of-factly, that Processed meats do cause cancer, while the Sun went with Banger out of Order and Killer in the Kitchen.
The source of the story was an announcement from the World Health Organization that processed meats were now classified as a group 1 carcinogen, meaning scientists were certain that there was sufficient evidence that they caused cancer, particularly colon cancer. The warning applied not just to British bacon but to Italian salami, Spanish chorizo, German bratwurst and myriad other foods.
Health scares are ten-a-penny, but this one was very hard to ignore. The WHO announcement came on advice from 22 cancer experts from 10 countries, who reviewed more than 400 studies on processed meat covering epidemiological data from hundreds of thousands of people. It was now possible to say that eat less processed meat, much like eat more vegetables, had become one of the very few absolutely incontrovertible pieces of evidence-based diet advice not simply another high-profile nutrition fad. As every news report highlighted, processed meat was now in a group of 120 proven carcinogens, alongside alcohol, asbestos and tobacco leading to a great many headlines blaring that bacon was as deadly as smoking.
The WHO advised that consuming 50g of processed meat a day equivalent to just a couple of rashers of bacon or one hotdog would raise the risk of getting bowel cancer by 18% over a lifetime. (Eating larger amounts raises your risk more.) Learning that your own risk of cancer has increased from something like 5% to something like 6% may not be frightening enough to put you off bacon sandwiches for ever. But learning that consumption of processed meat causes an additional 34,000 worldwide cancer deaths a year is much more chilling. According to Cancer Research UK, if no one ate processed or red meat in Britain, there would be 8,800 fewer cases of cancer. (That is four times the number of people killed annually on Britains roads.)
The news felt especially shocking because both ham and bacon are quintessentially British foods. Nearly a quarter of the adult population in Britain eats a ham sandwich for lunch on any given day, according to data from 2012 gathered by researchers Luke Yates and Alan Warde. To many consumers, bacon is not just a food; it is a repository of childhood memories, a totem of home. Surveys indicate that the smell of frying bacon is one of our favourite scents in the UK, along with cut grass and fresh bread. To be told that bacon had given millions of people cancer was a bit like finding out your granny had been secretly sprinkling arsenic on your morning toast.
Vegetarians might point out that the bacon sandwich should never have been seen as comforting. It is certainly no comfort for the pigs, most of whom are kept in squalid, cramped conditions. But for the rest of us, it was alarming to be told that these beloved foods might be contributing to thousands of needless human deaths. In the weeks following news of the WHO report, sales of bacon and sausages fell dramatically. British supermarkets reported a 3m drop in sales in just a fortnight. (It was very detrimental, said Kirsty Adams, the product developer for meat at Marks and Spencer.)
But just when it looked as if this may be #Bacongeddon (one of many agonised bacon-related hashtags trending in October 2015), a second wave of stories flooded in. Their message was: panic over. For one thing, the analogy between bacon and smoking was misleading. Smoking tobacco and eating processed meat are both dangerous, but not on the same scale. To put it in context, around 86% of lung cancers are linked to smoking, whereas it seems that just 21% of bowel cancers can be attributed to eating processed or red meat. A few weeks after publishing the report, the WHO issued a clarification insisting it was not telling consumers to stop eating processed meat.
Meanwhile, the meat industry was busily insisting that there was nothing to see here. The North American Meat Institute, an industry lobby group, called the report dramatic and alarmist overreach. A whole tranche of articles insisted in a commonsense tone that it would be premature and foolish to ditch our meaty fry-ups just because of a little cancer scare.
Nearly three years on, it feels like business as usual for processed meats. Many of us seem to have got over our initial sense of alarm. Sales of bacon in the UK are buoyant, having risen 5% in the two years up to mid-2016. When I interviewed a product developer for Sainsburys supermarket last year, she said that one of the quickest ways to get British consumers to try a new product now was to add chorizo to it.
And yet the evidence linking bacon to cancer is stronger than ever. In January, a new large-scale study using data from 262,195 British women suggested that consuming just 9g of bacon a day less than a rasher could significantly raise the risk of developing breast cancer later in life. The studys lead author, Jill Pell from the Institute of Health and Wellbeing at Glasgow University, told me that while it can be counterproductive to push for total abstinence, the scientific evidence suggests it would be misleading for health authorities to set any safe dose for processed meat other than zero.
The real scandal of bacon, however, is that it didnt have to be anything like so damaging to our health. The part of the story we havent been told including by the WHO is that there were always other ways to manufacture these products that would make them significantly less carcinogenic. The fact that this is so little known is tribute to the power of the meat industry, which has for the past 40 years been engaged in a campaign of cover-ups and misdirection to rival the dirty tricks of Big Tobacco.
How do you choose a pack of bacon in a shop, assuming you are a meat eater? First, you opt for either the crispy fat of streaky or the leanness of back. Then you decide between smoked or unsmoked each version has its passionate defenders (I am of the unsmoked persuasion). Maybe you seek out a packet made from free-range or organic meat, or maybe your budget is squeezed and you search for any bacon on special offer. Either way, before you put the pack in your basket, you have one last look, to check if the meat is pink enough.
Since we eat with our eyes, the main way we judge the quality of cured meats is pinkness. Yet it is this very colour that we should be suspicious of, as the French journalist Guillaume Coudray explains in a book published in France last year called Cochonneries, a word that means both piggeries and rubbish or junk food. The subtitle is How Charcuterie Became a Poison. Cochonneries reads like a crime novel, in which the processed meat industry is the perpetrator and ordinary consumers are the victims.
The pinkness of bacon or cooked ham, or salami is a sign that it has been treated with chemicals, more specifically with nitrates and nitrites. It is the use of these chemicals that is widely believed to be the reason why processed meat is much more carcinogenic than unprocessed meat. Coudray argues that we should speak not of processed meat but nitro-meat.
If you watched it, you may have noticed an odd banging sound in the background during a few times when the audience stood up and started clapping. That’s Trump clapping at his own words…. into the microphone.
USA Today rounded up some of the moments that Trump clapped in a compilation video:
If you need a refresher on Obama’s etiquette during the SOTU, here’s his last speech in 2016:
Alton Brown reviews dumbest kitchen gadgets
Obama mostly folded his hands or kept his hands at his side while the audience clapped during moments in this State of the Union. At the very least, he seemed to realize that clapping directly into a microphone would produce an uncomfortably loud sound.
Five months ago, mom and writer Cameron Reeves Poynter shared a heartfelt essay on Facebook about the invisible work she does for her family.
“I am the keeper. I am the keeper of schedules. Of practices, games, and lessons. Of projects, parties, and dinners. Of appointments and homework assignments,” she wrote, before diving into a laundry list of chores and responsibilities she takes on for her husband and two sons.
“I am the keeper of emotional security,” wrote the mom, who is based in the Norfolk, Virginia, area. “The repository of comfort, the navigator of bad moods, the holder of secrets and the soother of fears.”
Most of the time, the load is manageable for the former attorney, but other times, it’s too much to bear.
“Sometimes the weight of the things I keep pulls me down below the surface until I am kicking and struggling to break the surface and gasp for breath,” she wrote, before admitting that sometimes, “being the keeper is exhausting. Because you feel like you’re doing it alone.” (Read the entire essay below.)
The post went viral and compelled many readers to reach out to Reeves Poynter with their stories of shouldering the lion’s share of childcare and household work. (In many cases, that’s on top of their day-to-day responsibilities at work.)
“I have heard from hundreds of people ― men and women ― who told me they desperately needed to hear someone say, ‘I see you. What you do matters. You are not alone,’” she told HuffPost. “It’s hard because there is no objective rubric like a grading scale or a performance review to figure out how you’re faring with things like this.”
The mental energy Reeves Poynter described in her viral essay is what therapists call “emotional labor” — the effort it takes to put your game face on when you’re utterly exhausted from managing nearly everything at home. (Originally, the term was applied to workplace interactions, but in recent times, it’s been applied to housework and parenting tasks, too.)
The “keeper” is an apt job title and a good catch-all for the parent who handles almost all of the “invisible work” in the household: The keeper remembers that their 10-year-old has an eye exam on Tuesday, that supplies need to be bought for an upcoming science fair project, that teeth need to be brushed. The keeper takes care of the things that would cause familial chaos if they weren’t done.
It’s not just household logistics, either; the keeper often shoulders the weight of the family’s emotional burdens, too. They’re there for every tantrum, every mini crisis after a friendship spat, every lecture after a bad report card.
For working mothers especially, the so-called “second shift” takes hold once they walk through the door from their day job. It’s relentless, exhausting work and it often puts a strain on the spousal relationship.
“Women ask, ‘Why is it always on me to make sure everyone knows the schedule and responsibilities for each child? Why am I always the one to absorb the worry about our children’s collective well-being?’”
The fear of being perceived as a nag keeps many of them from speaking up, so they simply grin and bear it.
“Instead, they’ll do too much of the housework and become filled with annoyance and resentment,” LaMotte said.
Of course, there are some households where the workload split is a little less lopsided. According to a 2015 Pew Research Center survey of American parents, half of married or cohabiting couples living with at least one child under age 18 said their household chores were split about equally. But 41 percent said the mother did more, while 8 percent said the father did more work.
Then there’s caring for children: In 2015, fathers reported spending, on average, seven hours a week on childcare. That’s almost triple the amount of time they spent on the kids back in 1965, but they’ve got a long way to go before they catch up with their wives: Mothers spent an average of about 15 hours a week caring for the kids in 2015.
The thing is, once women give themselves permission to let go of all the responsibility, they’re usually surprised at how much their husbands do pick up the slack. They might be annoyed that he doesn’t do it the same way she does, but it does get done.”Aaron Anderson, a couples therapist in Denver, Colorado
In a culture that encourages women to “lean in” at work, we’ve also discussed why we don’t ask men to lean in a bit more at home to balance things out. We don’t, in part, because women have been taught to accept their duties and not rock the boat with their partners. And far too many women think, “If I don’t do it, it will never get done,” said Aaron Anderson,a couples therapist in Denver.
“The thing is, once women give themselves permission to let go of all the responsibility, they’re usually surprised at how much their husbands do pick up the slack,” Anderson told us. “They might be annoyed that he doesn’t do it the same way she does, but it does get done, and they end up appreciating their spouses more.”
Indeed, sometimes allowing things to fall apart a bit ― dishes left in the sink, laundry undone ― is a necessary catalyst for change in a marriage, LaMotte said.
“If the over-performing spouse can tolerate refusing to pick up the fallen pieces, the under-performing spouse will almost always function up to the emotional task at hand,” she said. “It’s not easy, but allowing things to fall apart is often the blueprint for authentic change.”
Of course, you can’t let the needs of your crying baby fall to the wayside in the same way you can ignore the pile of trash building up in the kitchen. Most women don’t want to micromanage or dictate a “honey-do” list for their spouses, either. They want a partner with initiative, someone who will schedule the kids’ orthodontist appointments or snuggle them to sleep at night withouthaving to be asked.
But for any lasting change to be made, both partners need to accept that they may have drastically different approaches to housework. Though most men genuinely want to help around the house, they worry about doing a subpar job, said J.D. Moyer, a married science fiction writer from Oakland, California, who has written about emotional labor in the past.
My wife and I have both learned to explicitly ask for praise and acknowledgement when we get something done.”J.D. Moyer, a science fiction writer from Oakland, California
After being married 21 years and having one daughter, Moyer and his wife Kia have worked out most of the kinks of household labor. Shared online docs ― like a shared Evernote grocery list ― take the guesswork out of what needs to be accomplished. And simply recognizing a job well done works wonders too, he said.
“My wife and I have both learned to explicitly ask for praise and acknowledgement when we get something done,” Moyer said. “It’s kind of silly to say, ‘Hey, come take a tour of the clean kitchen!’ but it beats feeling unappreciated and resentful.”
Reeves Poynter also stressed the importance of being an observant, active participant in your household.
“You have to look. Look at your house, your children, your spouse and see their splendors and their failures,” she said. “Look for the chances to help before anyone asks. Look for the moments to say ‘I see you.’”
Once you’re in the practice of actively looking, don’t let yourself slip back into disinterest or disregard.
“Never look the other way,” she said. “Never stop looking with your eyes and with your heart.”
Granted, some tech is better than other tech. No one needs a Wi-Fi-connected juice press that doesn’t actually juice anything. Gadgets that offer real utility—like a smart oven or open source furniture—stand a better chance of becoming ubiquitous. If you’re skeptical, think of it this way: In-home refrigeration was the crazy, newfangled invention of 1913. Now, few among us can imagine living without it.
What will the home of the future look like? We took stock of the most exciting tech-forward home products on the market. It’s only a matter of time until at least some of these come standard in every American home.
The High-Tech Living Room
Thirty-nine million Americans now have a smart speaker in their homes—that’s 1 in 6 people—and all signs indicate this figure will only creep higher with time. In the living room of the future, smart speakers will be a central feature, with newer models connected to every element in your home, from the lightbulbs to the lock on your front door to the thermostat. They will become so essential you won’t think twice about plunking down $400 for one.
Watching TV and movies will be a wildly different experience. Why devote precious square footage in your living room to a giant screen when you could have one that effortlessly rolls up away and out of sight, like the one LG Display debuted at this year’s CES? Or you may choose not to have a TV at all and opt instead for a superhigh-resolution short-throw projector that turns any white wall into your own personal movie theater. Sony’s new $30,000 model would fit the bill, assuming the price tag comes down.
In the coming years, it’ll be much easier to design your living space. Apps and online platforms such as Modsy and Hutch will use virtual and augmented reality to help you visualize how a couch or chair will look in your home. You’ll have lots of options: Modular, open source furniture will dominate interior design trends, taking the lead from Ikea’s Tom Dixon-designed Delaktig couch, which has more than 97 different configurations. Choose wisely, because you’ll be spending more time on the couch than ever: Facebook Inc.’s forthcoming living-room-geared video chat device will reportedly use smart camera technology to make people on both ends feel like they’re sitting in the same room.
Also, expect your living room to be even more of a central hub than it already is. Deliveries will arrive here instead of on your front porch, thanks to Amazon.com’s new Prime service, which will let verified delivery persons carry goods right into your home.
Ultimately, the goal of kitchen technology won’t be to do the cooking for you. It’ll just make you a better cook. Smart ovens such as those from June will be outfitted with cameras and digital thermometers, helping you monitor your food as it bakes. And instead of just hoping the “medium-hot” setting on your gas range is hot enough, smart skillets will take guessing out of the equation by sizzling food at a precise temperature, which you’ll set on a connected app.
Once you’re up and moving, it’s time to get dressed: Your closet will be filled with clothes you don’t just wear. They will actually interact with you, tracking health markers and habits. Among them: MadeWithGlove’s still-in-development smart gloves, which promise to detect skin temperature and provide heat accordingly. Your clothes might even change shape or color based on your feelings, as will the Sensoree mood sweater, now available for preorder.
And if you want a new wardrobe, you won’t have to even leave the house to find the best-fitting clothes: Amazon’s patented mirror will let you virtually try on outfits from the comfort of your own bedroom.
Sound far-fetched? Remember a decade ago, few of us could have imagined being so attached to our smartphones, let alone ordering groceries off the internet or barking commands at a digital assistant. With time, even the strangest things can become normal.
Robots are great at doing what they’re told. But sometimes inputting that information into a system is a far more complex process than the task we’re asking them to execute. That’s part of the reason they’re best suited for simple/repetitive jobs.
A team of researchers at Brown University and MIT is working to develop a system in which robots can plan tasks by developing abstract concepts of real-world objects and ideas based on motor skills. With this system, the robots can perform complex tasks without getting bogged down in the minutia required to complete them.
The researchers programmed a two-armed robot (Anathema Device or “Ana”) to manipulate objects in a room — opening and closing a cupboard and a cooler, flipping on a light switch and picking upa bottle. While performing the tasks, the robot was taking in its surroundings and processing information through algorithms developed by the researchers.
According to the team, the robot was able to learn abstract concepts about the object and the environment. Ana was able to determine that doors need to be closed before they can be opened.
“She learned that the light inside the cupboard was so bright that it whited out her sensors,” the researchers wrote in a release announcing their findings. “So in order to manipulate the bottle inside the cupboard, the light had to be off. She also learned that in order to turn the light off, the cupboard door needed to be closed, because the open door blocked her access to the switch.”
Once processed, the robot associates a symbol with one of these abstract concepts. It’s a sort of common language developed between the robot and human that doesn’t require complex coding to execute. This kind of adaptive quality means the robots could become far more capable of performing a greater variety of tasks in more diverse environments by choosing the actions they need to perform in a given scenario.
“If we want intelligent robots, we can’t write a program for everything we might want them to do,” George Konidaris, a Brown University assistant professor who led the study told TechCrunch. “We have to be able to give them goals and have them generate behavior on their own.”
Of course, asking every robot to learn this way is equally inefficient, but the researchers believe they can develop a common language and create skills that could be download to new hardware.
“I think what will happen in the future is there will be skills libraries, and you can download those,” explains Konidaris. “You can say, ‘I want the skill library for working in the kitchen,’ and that will come with the skill library for doing things in the kitchen.”
One of the most embarrassing political flops of 2017 was Donald Trumps nomination of Kathleen Hartnett White, a longtime fossil-fuel advocate, to direct the White House Council on Environmental Quality (CEQ). Her confirmation hearing was a disaster, captured for posterity on YouTube. While she made it out of committee on party lines, the full Senate declined to consider her nomination as part of a bipartisan deal.
Now, shes back.
To the surprise of Hill-watchers, White has been re-nominated, setting up a showdown with Democrats and Republicans alike. (Per Senate rules, nominees not confirmed at the end of the year must be re-submitted.) One observer called her the most endangered of President Trumps environmental nominees.
What was surprising was how awfully she performed at that hearing.
First, it was revealed that many of her written answers to the committee were apparently cut and pasted, word for word, from the answers submitted by EPA Administrator Scott Pruitt and his assistant Bill Wehrum.
Then came the hearing itself.
At one point, Sen. Sheldon Whitehouse asked White to estimate how much of the excess heat from climate change is stored in the oceansa detailed question for you or me, but pretty standard for a climate-policy person. White said she didnt know, but said there were many opinions and no right answer. Thats the fossil-fuel industrys refrain, of course.
Whitehouse asked if there was a serious scientific opinion that its below 50 percent. White said yes. Whitehouse said, Wow.
Then Sen. Whitehouse asked if White agreed that water expands as it heats, a principle that can be proven on any kitchen stovetop. White said, I do not have any kind of expertise or even much laymans study of the ocean dynamics.
For good measure, White also contradicted the EPAs new policy that its scientists may not attend conferences on climate-change science, and contradicted her own published statement that the IPCCs highly politicized and speculative science [is] increasingly contradicted by empirical evidence, saying at the hearing that the intergovernmental panel of climate-change scientists is a very good source.
Sen. Tom Carper, the top Democrat on the Senate Environment and Public Works Committee, said in a statement, In the 17 years I have been in the Senate, I have never sat through a hearing as excruciating as Ms. Whites.
Nor was the hearing a one-time flub. Heres a 2015 video in which, tripping over her words, White praises the really beneficial impacts of carbon dioxide in our atmosphere. Satellites already show a greening of the earth, in part from very small amount of carbon dioxide involved with using fossil fuels.
There is absolutely no basis in fact for that claim.
Also in 2015, White wrote a piece for TownHall.com exclaiming that:
No matter how many times, [sic] the President, EPA, and press rant about dirty carbon pollution, there is no pollution about carbon itself! As a dictionary will tell you, carbon is the chemical basis of all life. Our flesh, blood, and bones are built of carbon. Carbon dioxide (CO2) is the gas of life on this planet, an essential nutrient for plant growth on which human life depends. How craftily our government has masked these fundamental realities and the environmental benefits of fossil fuels!
The only question is whether White is knowingly deceiving people in such statements, or whether she is indeed so ignorant or brainwashed that she believes this sort of thing. Is she a dupe or a knave? Im not sure.
White is also a conspiracy theorist. Her opinion on climate change isnt just that its not so bad (a position at odds with 99.5 percent of actual climate scientists) but that the whole thing is, as Trump once said, a hoax. In that same Townhall piece, White wrote:
As the evidence for unprecedented warming temperatures, extreme weather events, declining Arctic ice, and rising sea levels wanes, the entrenched warmists grasp for familiar tags such as pollution or environmental protection to sanitize their grand schemes to decarbonize human societies.
Second, theres the conspiracy-mongering: grand schemes to decarbonize human societies. White has made this claim many times: that the entire climate-science field, all around the world, is actually a cabal to undermine fossil fuels.
Why would they want to do so? Leftist totalitarianism. In a 2014 blog post, she wrote, referring to MSNBCs Chris Hayes, Sometimes a single voice throws in hard relief the delusion, misanthropy, and unabashedly totalitarian policy of the Left. These characteristics are particularly embedded in the Left's secular religion: Apocalyptic Anthropogenic Global Warming.
That was also the piece in which White wrote that There is, in fact, a historical connection between the abolition of slavery and humanitys first widespread use of energy from fossil fuels.
(Her point is that industrialization and urbanization were enabled by the use of coal and oil. In fact, the Industrial Revolution increased demand for slave-labor-produced raw materials, making slavery more lucrative. Also, you know, the abolition of slavery may have had other causes as well.)
But look closer. TPPF is part of the State Policy Network, a system of conservative think tanks that are funded by Koch-backed dark-money groups DonorsTrust and Donors Capital Fund, as well as the Koch-backed Claude R. Lambe and Charles G. Koch foundations, and ExxonMobil.
Like many such think tanks, the TPPF is fake. The only thinking that goes on is of thoughts that Big Oil pays for.
When White ran the TCEQ, she voted to build a new coal plant near Dallas, despite opposition from officials in 24 cities and counties; falsified data to help polluters get around water regulations; and, according to a 2003 Texas state audit, did not consistently ensure violators are held accountable for pollution.
This is how one makes a career as a lackey for the fossil-fuel industry: First they pay for your fake job, then they get you into a position of power where you implement their policies.You can coast through for decades without anyone calling your bluff.
But the Senate just might: Just two Republican defections would doom Whites candidacy. Eyes are focused, as usual, on Sen. Susan Collins of Maine, who has a strong environmental record and who voted against confirming Pruitt, as well as senators from agricultural states that stand to lose if White is confirmed.
Of course, the Senate has confirmed Trumps anti-environmental picks beforebut then, none of them were quite as willfully ignorant as Kathleen White.
The number of EU citizens leaving the UK is at its highest level for a decade with 130,000 emigrating in the year to September, figures show.
But far more EU nationals (220,000) moved to the UK in the same period, the Office for National Statistics found.
It means net EU migration – the difference between arrivals and departures – was 90,000, the lowest for five years.
The ONS said Brexit could be a factor in people’s decisions to move.
Nicola White, head of international migration statistics at the ONS, said migration was complicated and could be influenced by lots of different reasons.
The figures also show that more British people are emigrating than are returning to live in the UK.
Of those EU nationals arriving in the UK, fewer were coming for “work-related reasons”, in particular to “look for work”.
By contrast, immigration from countries outside the European Union is going up which means the UK population is continuing to grow at a similar level to early 2014.
Some 285,000 non-EU citizens arrived in the UK in the 12-month period to September, and 80,000 departed.
This gives a net increase of 205,000, the highest for six years.
BBC home affairs correspondent Danny Shaw said this was largely driven by more people coming to study in the UK and an uncharacteristic dip in the previous year’s figures that may have been corrected.
He also speculated whether firms were starting to struggle to recruit or retain people from the EU, forcing them to look outside the EU.
Overall, net migration is estimated to have fallen by 29,000 to 244,000 in the same period.
This includes 73,000 British people coming back to the UK and 125,000 Britons leaving.
The overall net migration figure is still well short of the government’s target to reduce net migration to below 100,000, a pledge made in the 2010, 2015 and 2017 Tory manifestos.
Analysis: A shift away from Britain’s shores
By home affairs correspondent Danny Shaw
What explanation could there be for the decline in EU migration other than Brexit? In the two years before the June 2016 referendum, the number of EU nationals arriving in Britain was stable at about 240,000 to 280,000.
But every quarter since then has recorded falls, from 284,000 to 220,000.
At the same time, the number of EU leavers, which hadn’t risen higher than 100,000 since 2010, began to rise, from 95,000 to 130,000.
Whether it’s a feeling that EU citizens aren’t wanted in the UK, uncertainty about their future or the growing relative strength of other EU economies, there has been a notable shift away from Britain’s shores.
Nevertheless, overall net migration remains at historically high levels, well above the government’s controversial target, with a rise in migration from outside Europe.
Caroline Nokes, immigration minister, said the latest figures demonstrated that the UK was still attracting the “brightest and best people” to come to work and study and described the increase in the number of overseas students as a “huge positive”.
“We are a country that is open for business,” she added.
“We want to have great relations with our European neighbours going forward but at the same time we need to have a sustainable migration system,” she said.
Asked whether falling numbers would adversely affect some sectors, in particular the NHS, Ms Nokes said the independent migration advisory committee was due to report its findings on EU patterns to the government in September so decisions could be made based on evidence.
Labour’s shadow home secretary Diane Abbott said net migration was still double the government’s target and accused the Home Office of turning away qualified doctors despite a recruitment shortage in the NHS.
“This deficit hurts us all and highlights the immigration mess the government has created,” she said.
The ONS figures also show that in 2017, the UK granted asylum, alternative forms of protection or resettlement to almost 15,000 people, 40% of whom were under 18.
Pizza. It’s one of America’s favorite foods, and the possibilities are virtually endless when it comes to what ingredients you can top it with.
Many prefer classic toppings such as pepperoni, mushrooms, sausages, or just plain old cheese, but why limit yourself when there are so many other tasty and unique options? If you’re ready to get a little more adventurous with your food, check out these 15 unusual — but no less delicious — homemade pizza recipes.