• by Steven Rosenbaum , Featured Contributor, April 7, 2025

TED has always been about big ideas and unexpected connections. It's where brilliant minds gather to share visions that might actually move us forward. And this year's Vancouver gathering promises exactly what we need right now: a space where technology and politics can find common ground rather than battlegrounds.

The theme "Reimagining Humanity" couldn't be more timely. At a moment when our digital and democratic realities seem to be on a collision course, TED offers something increasingly rare: the promise of constructive collaboration across divides that often seem unbridgeable.

As artificial intelligence gains power at an astonishing pace, the question "What are humans for?" becomes both alarming and illuminating. The five-day event, running April 7-11, brings together voices that might actually help us answer that question -- or at least ask better versions of it.

Take Carole Cadwalladr. Her Polk Award and Orwell Prize-winning journalism pulls back the curtain on the hidden connections between technology and power -- essential knowledge if we're going to build better systems.

Then there's Lenore Skenazy. In an age when both our physical and digital spaces feel increasingly constrained, she's pioneering what freedom might actually look like for the next generation. Her "Free-Range Kids" movement isn't just about parenting -- it's about what kind of citizens we're creating for tomorrow's democracies.

Tristan Harris brings his crucial insights about attention economics to the stage. His Center for Humane Technology represents exactly the kind of bridge-building we need between Silicon Valley innovation and human flourishing. When he briefs heads of state and tech CEOs, he's making connections that could fundamentally reshape our digital landscape.

But it's Deja Foxx who really gets my attention. This woman was homeless as a teen and by 19 was advising a presidential campaign. She represents what Gen Z actually is: resilient digital natives building new models of community and power. Her Gen Z Girl Gang is reimagining connection in an age of digital isolation. When she speaks on the TED stage, she'll be representing voices that rarely get this kind of platform.

And then there's my colleague Bradley Tusk, who's speaking back-to-back with Deja on Thursday morning. He's fascinating precisely because he bridges worlds that rarely communicate effectively: technology, politics, venture capital, and civic engagement. Having run the campaign to legalize Uber, he understands how technology and regulation can either clash or collaborate to create better systems.

Then there's the closing act that's sure to draw both applause and eye-rolls: OpenAI CEO Sam Altman. Few figures in tech embody such contradictions -- the visionary who claims to be building systems for humanity's benefit while simultaneously being accused of rushing toward potentially dangerous artificial general intelligence. Love him or loathe him (and the tech world has plenty in both camps), his presence at a conference themed "Reimagining Humanity" perfectly captures the tension of our moment: Are we witnessing the dawn of unprecedented human flourishing, or sleepwalking toward our own obsolescence?

While the main stage talks get the spotlight, I'm equally excited about hosting two intimate meetups that continue the conversations in smaller settings. "The Future of Truth: How AI Reshapes Reality" will explore how we navigate a world where the line between human and machine-generated content blurs daily. I'm also hosting "The Social Media We Need: Prioritizing Community Over Clicks," a chance to move beyond critique and imagine better alternatives to our engagement-obsessed platforms.

These small group conversations often create lasting friendships and collaborations that extend well beyond the conference -- perhaps the most valuable outcome of all.

This year's conference comes at a pivotal moment for TED itself. After 25 years as TED's curator, Chris Anderson has announced he's stepping down and has "extended an open call for the next leader of TED." Instead of simply selling to the highest bidder, Anderson is searching for "the next bold mind to steer its future" with both vision and resources. This transition makes TED 2025 not just another gathering of big ideas, but potentially a watershed moment for the organization itself.

I'll be paying close attention as these talks drop -- some immediately, others trickling out over the coming months. The full picture won't emerge all at once, but the questions they're raising are exactly what we should be discussing: How can technology strengthen rather than undermine democracy? How might Gen Z leadership reshape our digital landscape? What new collaborations between technologists, journalists, activists, and political strategists might actually move us forward?

Because that's what TED has always done best: create the conversations we didn't know we needed, but now can't imagine living without.