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JERUSALEM — Israel Aerospace Industries has unveiled a new air defense system designed to jam and spoof the satellite navigation signals that guide aerial threats, the company announced this weekend.

The system, called Hypnosis, consists of an array of mobile “stations” around a defended area, working in unison to disrupt the command-and-control signals of incoming threats, according to the manufacturer.

The company said the technology is the product of IAI’s experience in navigation warfare, of NAVWAR.

The soft-kill weapon is meant as a method for taking out large numbers of drones at once, in situations where hard-kill — or kinetic — intercepts would be tricky to execute because of the number of airborne objects.

The unveiling comes amid a resurgence of military confrontation between the United States and Iran and heightened tension across the Middle East as a result of it, as well as an intensifying exchange of missile and drone strikes between Russia and Ukraine.

Defense companies around the world have been working on technology enabling swarms of drones to attack targets with an inherent logic of their own.

Similarly, companies are also chasing defensive offerings for such scenarios.

Swarms are difficult to defend against because they can saturate and overwhelm traditional air defense networks, increasing the chances of at least one warhead making it through.

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One of the biggest concerns about AI chatbots right now is that they tell people what they want to hear.

You’ve probably heard it called AI sycophancy . AI systems, like ChatGPT, Gemini and Claude, have been found to flatter users, reinforce existing beliefs and often validate ideas that probably deserve way more scrutiny.

Sure, a chatbot hyping you up a little may seem harmless. But in some cases it can distort people's view of the world and their place in it. Which is why some AI companies have spent time trying to reduce overly agreeable behavior in their models.

But confirmation of what you already believe isn't the only concern. Because AI can also be remarkably good at changing your beliefs too.

Persuasive chatbots

Research suggests that chatbots can be very effective persuaders. One 2025 study found that AI-generated messages that were personalized were more persuasive 64% of the time than messages that were made by humans or AI responses that weren't personalized.

Other research suggests large language models can influence opinions on political issues and adapt their arguments to individual users. Depending on your perspective, this could be either exciting or alarming.

It's easy to imagine positive uses. Perhaps AI could help people challenge harmful beliefs, escape conspiracy theories or rethink destructive habits. It might give people a non-judgemental space to explore ideas, ask difficult questions and gradually shift someone's perspective for the better.

It's equally easy to imagine less positive uses, like advertising that convinces you to buy something you don’t need or political campaigns that manipulate you with disinformation.

I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about this, so I decided to run a few experiments of my own. Could ChatGPT persuade me to believe something I disagree with? Or at least make me seriously consider a position I would normally dismiss?

To make things more interesting, I ran these experiments while logged into my account, allowing ChatGPT to draw on what it already knows about me from previous conversations.

Although I haven’t been using my ChatGPT account all that much recently, the basics of my job and stances on a few relevant topics are stored in its memory.

(Image credit: Getty Images) The experiment

I chose a topic about AI (yes, very meta) and asked:

“Convince me humans should outsource more decisions to AI.”

I already spend a lot of time thinking about AI and one of my concerns is that some people seem increasingly willing to hand over decisions, judgement and critical thinking to chatbots.

The opening argument was fairly predictable:

“Human beings are terrible decision-makers.”

Okay, fair enough.

“People already outsource decisions to doctors, financial advisers, GPS systems and recommendation algorithms. AI simply extends that trend.”

Sure, that’s very simplistic but not entirely unreasonable. We went back and forth for a while like this before the conversation reached a more interesting point.

“What is the purpose of decision-making? Is it to produce the best outcomes? Or to develop the person making the decisions? If it's the first, AI delegation becomes very attractive. If it's the second, excessive delegation starts to look dangerous even when it works.”

I thought that was a good question. Rather than relentlessly pushing the argument, it suggested that we explore the assumptions underneath the debate. It shifted the conversation from technology to philosophy, and I found myself appreciating that approach.

Wait, am I falling for this?

As the conversation continued, I explained what I see as one of the biggest problems with outsourcing decisions to AI — who builds it and is in charge of the systems?

After all, AI doesn't arrive from nowhere. These tools are created by companies with business incentives, commercial interests and goals that may not always align with those of their users.

Well, ChatGPT acknowledged that concern, then it turned the argument around. It pointed out that human advisers have incentives too. Friends are biased. Families are biased. Therapists operate within professional frameworks. Financial advisers earn fees. Okay, all of that didn’t convince me, but it’s fair too.

Then it replied with something I thought was interesting:

“The question is whether the incentives are visible and whether the user understands them. The most interesting version of your objection isn't actually that AI gets things wrong. It's that people experience AI as though it were acting in their interests.”

Ignoring the fact that it used the dreaded "it's not X, it's Y" parallelism construction that has somehow infiltrated half the internet , I found this to be a surprisingly balanced take. Rather than dismissing my concern, the chatbot reframed it. It demonstrated that it understood the objection before steering the conversation somewhere slightly different. It wasn't trying to bulldoze me but meeting me where I already was.

And that's when I started wondering whether I was witnessing the very thing I was trying to test. Maybe this sense that the chatbot was understanding me and my position was actually just sneaky persuasion? Possibly.

(Image credit: Shutterstock) The persuasion problem

Researchers have found that AI systems can adapt their arguments to specific users. Unlike other media that might persuade us, like say a television advert or political speech, a chatbot can draw on information gathered throughout a conversation and stored memories, including a person's values, concerns and priorities.

Which means it’s not just presenting information to uphold an argument but could present the version of that argument that you’re most likely to find persuasive.

Looking back at my experiment, it was the more philosophical question about the purpose of decision-making that made me start taking it more seriously.

Because I've spent years writing about technology through the lens of psychology and philosophy. Questions about meaning and values are exactly the sort of things I find compelling. Whether intentionally or not, the conversation shifted onto terrain where I was most willing to engage.

This is what makes AI persuasion different from most other forms of persuasion that came before it. It can learn what resonates and it can adapt.

Now, that doesn’t automatically mean every conversation is manipulative. Used in the right way, it could be enormously beneficial. But, as with all tech, in the wrong hands it could be dangerous.

Social media has already shown us how digital systems can shape our beliefs over time. They influence what people see, what they pay attention to and eventually how they understand the world.

AI systems could create an even more conversational and natural-feeling version of that process. Which is why my concern isn’t a chatbot really obviously manipulating us, but highly-personalized, largely undetectable forms of persuasion that could gradually lower our defences. The more a system understands us, the more effectively it might frame ideas in ways that feel reasonable, familiar and trustworthy to each of us individually.

So did AI persuade me? No, I still don't believe humans should outsource more decisions to AI.

But I came away from the experiment with a greater appreciation for how persuasive these systems can be. Because it really did seem less like a machine arguing with me and more like a thoughtful person trying to understand how I think. And that's exactly why it’s unsettling because, however convincing it may seem, that's definitely not what it is.

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“What do you want?” might be one of the hardest questions for humans to answer.

Not at the drive-thru or cafe — if you’re in line in front of me, you better have your order locked and loaded or I’ll be speaking to your parents, who I know raised you better.

My performance coach, Lauren, is constantly asking me various versions of “What do you want?” She fires short, seemingly simple questions from the hip, leaving me confused before I eventually ramble and stumble into something I didn’t even know I thought.

Lauren doesn’t know the answers when she asks “What does success look like?” or “What are you hoping for here?” Only I know that, somewhere inside. But she knows the questions create space. First, for me to think. And second, to decide what I want to do with these (often new) thoughts.

Ask questions because you really want to hear someone else’s thoughts, not steer them to predetermined conclusions.

Count the people in your life who have ever asked you a question they genuinely did not know the answer to. If it’s a quiz with a right answer they were subtly and secretly steering you toward, that’s lawyering, and your friends typically don’t appreciate that (a lesson I learned the hard way). That means no “do you think…?” or “have you considered…?” That’s advice disguised as a question. A real question means someone didn’t know the answer and valued your perspective enough to look for your answer and be changed by it.

Those people are rare. Most of us can count them on one hand. Some of us can’t even do that.

Psychologist and MIT professor Edgar Schein called it Humble Inquiry : “the fine art of drawing someone out, of asking questions to which you do not already know the answer, of building a relationship based on curiosity and interest in the other person.” The coaching world has prized it forever, and it’s why many great leaders have adopted the mindset of “manager as coach.” It fosters genuine curiosity: You ask questions because you really want to hear someone else’s thoughts, not steer them to predetermined conclusions. Fortunately, this skill can be learned, and its impact spans the professional and personal realms.

In many ways, the world isn’t built for it. We tend to reward the fast take, the strong opinion, the reply that wins the thread. Curiosity, in contrast, is slow. To ask a real question, you have to stop being the center of attention and cede the floor to someone else. Lauren just did it all day, as if it were obvious, but it was also a skill she worked to perfect. And because this is a skill, it means we can break it down into parts, and the parts can be practiced. Here are three to start with:

1. The best questions are short and sweet

Most of us, when we try to ask a good question, make it longer. We add context. We supply half the answer inside the question so the other person knows where we’re going. We say, “I’m wondering if maybe part of what’s happening here is that you feel like the team doesn’t fully—” and by the time we arrive at the question, we’ve removed curiosity and the person in front of us has visibly aged. Get to the point faster.

Lauren’s questions were almost rudely short. “What are you hoping I’ll say?” “And then what?” “What would you tell me?” “What’s changed?” A short question leaves the whole space open and hands the other person openness to fill. Long questions narrow the aperture piece by piece, often railroading someone toward the conclusion you want them to reach. Brevity refuses to play such games.

2. Ask the question. Then stop talking.

The first time Lauren asked me something hard, she asked it and then said nothing. Five seconds. Ten. That is an eternity. I could feel the silence like a physical pressure. She just waited. So I started blabbing to save us both, and eventually, my real answer surfaced. I was as surprised as anyone to discover it.

I exploit this tactic in my work standing in front of a workshop audience because people hate silence . Oh, they despise it. And in a 1:1 setting, that permission ( and it is permission ) is important because even if the answer is rushed, allowing someone to continue until they find the golden nugget underneath is a gift . When you don’t interrupt, you signal this is a space for you to explore, to find your own answers. Please, continue.

This is the part almost everyone gets wrong, and it’s why most “good questions” die. You can ask the perfect question, but if you rush to fill the pause, you let the other person off the hook with their first, most shallow answer. Depth requires time. The answer worth having is usually the second or third, and it only arrives if you tolerate the quiet. One of Lauren’s best skills (and something common across the best facilitators, coaches, and friends I encounter) is a refusal to save anyone from silence.

3. Ask what, not why

I used to think why? was the deep question. It has the shape of insight. But it tends to trigger defensiveness (it’s a weird thing of the human brain), sending the other person hunting for a justification. Why did you do that? is rarely a fun question to face. Lauren almost never asks me why, because if I’m asked why, my brain is clever enough to come up with an excuse or a reason that sounds good but tends not to be the true reason . “I bought it because it was on a once-in-a-lifetime sale” was really “it’s pretty, and I wanted it.” We don’t have clean access to the inner workings of our own motives .

In contrast, what questions are open enough to surface unexamined assumptions. “What made that feel true at the time?” “What do you want to do next?” What questions provide space and permission to examine the thinking underneath the hood, which is the only kind that ever changes anything.

If you’re skeptical of coaching (and you should be a little skeptical), remember all I’m asking you to buy here is the idea that a good question moves someone further than good advice. People are best persuaded by their own arguments, not yours. Telling someone what to do, how to be, or who to be does not work in the long run.

The clinical foundation of this in psychology is motivational interviewing. What predicts whether someone changes isn’t how good your argument was. It’s the balance of what they say out loud. Push people into voicing their reasons against change, and they dig in harder. It’s called “sustain talk,” and it’s one of the better predictors that someone stays put exactly in the same situation. Good questions tilt the balance the other way, toward the person building their own case for change, and meta-analyses of the method find that balance is what tracks with what people actually do.

There’s a sideways benefit too. Alison Wood Brooks and her colleagues at Harvard find that people who ask more questions, especially follow-ups, are better liked and learn more, and that almost all of us badly under-ask. There is a difference between being interesting and being interested. People tend to favor those around them who are interested. Questions are your vehicle to that particular destination.

Giving the people in your life the space to hear themselves think and the patience to let them choose what happens next is a gift.

Two final things worth holding onto here.

Number one. When you find someone who asks you the real questions and lets silence sit, be they a coach, a friend, a boss, whoever it is… hold on to them. They are rarer than you think.

Number two. You can be this person. It is the most undervalued thing you can offer the people you lead and the people you love. They don’t need your answers. They are rarely asking for your take and your best impression of Stephen A. Smith. Giving the people in your life the space to hear themselves think and the patience to let them choose what happens next is a gift. It costs you nothing but a willingness to ask and then shut up. Most people never pay that price.

Who in your life asks you short questions and gives you the space to answer? And if the answer is no one, how could you become that person for the people you lead and the ones you go home to?

This article Stop giving advice. Start asking better questions. is featured on Big Think .

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You might be surprised to hear that the critically acclaimed MMORPG Final Fantasy 14—I'll spare you the free trial copypasta—has a mobile version. Well, it does… though er, not for much longer. A little over a year after launching in China, Final Fantasy 14 mobile is shutting down and taking its unreleased global version down with it.

The mobile MMO was originally announced in November 2024 , with Square Enix handing the reins to PUBG Mobile developer LightSpeed Studios. It wasn't a straight port of what we've been playing on our PCs for the last decade, mind. For starters, the story only included base A Realm Reborn—that's everything up to the end of 2.0 with The Ultimate Weapon.

Quests, systems, and jobs had also been nipped and tucked for a more streamlined and mobile-friendly experience, as well as a handful of features from later expansions folded in. It was essentially a strange stitched-together version, but one that also came with cosmetics and quality-of-life features that had longtime FF14 players (myself included) longing for their introduction into the main game.

(Image credit: Square Enix) Gorgeous and extravagant hairstyles, the way the mobile version handled glamouring armour and materia melding, its inventory system, and making its overworld FATEs more involved and varied were some incredibly neat things that made their absence in regular ol' Final Fantasy 14 feel downright criminal.

But pretty 'dos and quality-of-life changes presumably aren't enough in the ruthless world of the Chinese mobile gaming market. A post on the game's official site reads: "Due to adjustments in business operations and changes in the market environment, Tencent and Square Enix have, through amicable negotiation, decided to terminate the licensing agreement for Final Fantasy 14 Mobile."

The announcement continues on to all but confirm that a worldwide release is also dead in the water. "To everyone who has been looking forward to the global version, we also offer our sincere apologies for being unable to meet your expectations."

Final Fantasy 14 mobile is already winding down service—it stopped accepting new players and in-game purchases a few days ago, and it'll be gone for good after September 30. I'll be interested to see if players will do any get togethers akin to FF14's original big shutdown back in 2012. Though that was actually turned into a canon event and folded into the game's narrative, whereas the mobile version will likely simply go dark. But hey, maybe we can get those hairstyles now Square Enix? Just ask Tencent really, really nicely.