The magazine you now hold in your hands is 125 years old. Not this actual issue, of course, but the publication itself, which launched in 1899. Few other titles can claim this kind of heritage—the Atlantic, Harper’s, Audubon (which is also turning 125 this year), National Geographic, and Popular Science among them.
MIT Technology Review was born four years before the Wright brothers took flight. Thirty-three before we split the atom, 59 ahead of the integrated circuit, 70 before we would walk on the moon, and 90 before the invention of the World Wide Web. It has survived two world wars, a depression, recessions, eras of tech boom and bust. It has chronicled the rise of computing from the time of room-size mainframes until today, when they have become ubiquitous, not just carried in our pockets but deeply embedded in nearly all aspects of our lives.
As I sit in my air-conditioned home office writing this letter on my laptop, Spotify providing a soundtrack to keep me on task, I can’t help but consider the vast differences between my life and those of the MIT graduates who founded MIT Technology Review and laid out its pages by hand. My life—all of our lives—would amaze Arthur D. Little in countless ways.
(Not least is that I am the person to write this letter. When MITTR was founded, US women’s suffrage was still 20 years in the future. There were women at the Institute, but their numbers were small. Today, it is my honor to be the CEO and publisher of this storied title. And I’m proud to serve at an institution whose president and provost are both women.)
I came to MIT Technology Review to guide its digital transformation. Yet despite the pace of change in these past 125 years, my responsibilities are not vastly different from those of my predecessors. I’m here to ensure this publication—in all its digital, app-enabled, audio-supporting, livestreaming formats—carries on. I have a deep commitment to its mission of empowering its readers with trusted insights and information about technology’s potential to change the world.
During some chapters of its history, MIT Technology Review served as little more than an alumni magazine; through others, it leaned more heavily toward academic or journal-style publishing. During the dot-com era, MIT Technology Review invested large sums to increase circulation in pursuit of advertising pages comparable to the number in its counterparts of the time, the Industry Standard, Wired, and Business 2.0.
Through each of these chapters, I like to think, certain core principles remained consistent—namely, a focus on innovation and creativity in the face of new challenges and opportunities in publishing.
Today, MIT Technology Review sits in a privileged but precarious position in an industry struggling for viability. Print and online media is, frankly, in a time of crisis. We are fortunate to receive support from the Institute, enabling us to report the technology stories that matter most to our readers. We are driven to create impact, not profits for investors.
We appreciate our advertisers very much, but they are not why we are here. Instead, we are focused on our readers. We’re here for people who care deeply about how tech is changing the world. We hope we make you think, imagine, discern, dream. We hope to both inspire you and ground you in reality. We hope you find enough value in our journalism to subscribe and support our mission.
Operating MIT Technology Review is not an inexpensive endeavor. Our editorial team is made up of some of the most talented reporters and editors working in media. They understand at a deep level how technologies work and ask tough questions of tech leaders and creators. They’re skilled storytellers.
Even from its very start, MIT Technology Review faced funding challenges. In a letter to the Association of Class Secretaries in December 1899, Walter B. Snow, an 1882 MIT graduate who was secretary and leader of the association and one of MITTR’s cofounders, laid out a plan for increasing revenue and reducing costs to ensure “the continuation of the publication.” Oof, Walter—have I got some stories for you. But his goal remains my goal today.
We hope you experience the thrill and possibility of being a human alive in 2024. This is a time when we face enormous challenges, yes, and sometimes it feels overwhelming. But today we also possess many of the tools and technologies that can improve life as we know it.
And so if you’re a subscriber, thank you. Help us continue to grow and learn: Tell us what you like and what you don’t like (feedback@technologyreview.com; I promise you will receive a reply). Consider a gift subscription for a friend or relative by visiting www.technologyreview.com/subscribe. If you bought this on the newsstand or are reading it over the shoulder of a friend, I hope you’ll subscribe for yourself.
The next 125 years seem unimaginable—although in this issue we will try our best to help you see where things may be headed. I’ve never been an avid reader of science fiction. But by nature I’m an optimist who believes in the power of science and technology to make the world better. Whatever path these next years take, I know that MIT Technology Review is the vantage point from which I want to view it. I hope you’ll be here alongside me.
