I’d wager everyone has a rehearsed response to what’s absolutely one of the world’s worst interview questions: “What’s your biggest weakness?” Whenever I’ve gotten it, I take a slow—even pensive—breath and rattle off my line: “I say no to myself too much.” 

I won’t lie. It’s a bit shameless—a definite humblebrag. I’m a systems thinker: When an idea pops up, I immediately spin up a feasibility assessment in my head. I run lists, plot timelines, and tally budget line items. Sometimes a rough Gantt chart starts to take shape. (I’m a gas at parties, as you can surely tell.)

My brain, throughout my 20-plus-year career as a science and tech journalist, has played host to a near ­constant tug-of-war between ambition and reality. Learning to find that balance is a big part of what’s helped me survive in this industry and, ultimately, led me here. This past spring, I had the great privilege of joining the incredible team of journalists behind MIT Technology Review to take the reins of the print magazine. 

If you’ve been reading along with us for the last handful of issues, you may have noticed a few changes starting to materialize. We’ve brought back a regular roster of lists and infographics (both things that magazines do particularly well). But the biggest change is only just beginning to take shape, which is why Mat Honan, our editor in chief, asked me to hop in to introduce myself—and the issue you’re holding in your hands right now. 

We’re giving ourselves permission to play around and experiment. To be a little … audacious. 

Because, practical though I may be, I do still have plenty of ideas. It’s just that I sometimes need a reminder to stop blocking myself and do the thing. That’s the spirit driving this issue in particular. 

We wanted to end 2026 with a slate of stories that check in on impossible ideas. Why? Because it’s frankly a lot of fun to dream about living on the moon or uploading our brains. Because losing sight of ambition is all too easy when it feels as if we’re playing whack-a-mole with the world’s problems. But also because the scientists and engineers who absolutely refuse to give up on even the most daring endeavors—like making synthetic blood or decoding animals’ speech—remind us what this whole technology thing is supposed to do to begin with. 

It’s supposed to take cutting-edge research and development and apply it to make life better, safer, healthier, even more joyful. And when we eff up and make things worse (see: forever chemicals, traffic deaths, and AI that encourages potentially dangerous user behavior), we’re supposed to dig back in, assess the damage, and find ways to fix what we’ve broken. Even when unraveling the mess might itself seem impossible. 

Right before I came to MIT Technology Review, I edited a newsletter about individual actions that can help address the climate crisis, which some would call—and have called—a fool’s errand, given the sheer scale of the problem. They might say it’s as implausible as an AI kill switch, practical nuclear fusion, or a superconductor that works at room temperature. But if I learned nothing else from three years spent finding ways for li’l old me (or li’l old you!) to chip away at one of humanity’s biggest existential threats, it’s that focusing on what we can’t do only makes the darkness darker. 

So yeah, this one’s for the folks who have the audacity to try, and who refuse to let anyone—themselves included—tell them no.

I hope you enjoy the ride.