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    Silicon Valley Bank’s Collapse Causes Strain for Young Companies

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    Young companies raced to get their money out of the bank, which was central to the start-up industry. Some said they could not make payroll.Ashley Tyrner opened an account with Silicon Valley Bank for her company, FarmboxRx, two years ago. She was setting out to raise venture capital and knew the bank was a go-to for the start-up industry.On Thursday, after reading about financial instability at the bank, she rushed to move FarmboxRx’s money into two other bank accounts. Her wire transfers didn’t go through. And on Friday, Silicon Valley Bank collapsed, tying up cash totaling eight figures for her company, which delivers food to Medicare and Medicaid participants.“None of my reps will call me back,” Ms. Tyrner said. “It’s the worst 24 hours of my life.”Her despair was part of the fallout across the start-up ecosystem from the failure of Silicon Valley Bank. Entrepreneurs raced to get loans to make payroll because their money was frozen at the bank. Investors doled out and asked for advice in memos and on emergency conference calls. Lines formed outside the bank’s branches. And many in the tech industry were glued to Twitter, where the collapse of a linchpin financial partner played out in real time.The implosion rattled a start-up industry already on edge. Hurt by rising interest rates and an economic slowdown over the past year, start-up funding — which had been supercharged by low interest rates for years — has shriveled, resulting in mass layoffs at many young companies, cost-cutting and slashed valuations. Investments in U.S. start-ups dropped 31 percent last year to $238 billion, according to PitchBook.On top of that, the fall of Silicon Valley Bank was especially troubling because it was the self-described “financial partner of the innovation economy.” The bank, founded in 1983 and based in Santa Clara, Calif., was deeply entangled in the tech ecosystem, providing banking services to nearly half of all venture-backed technology and life-science companies in the United States, according to its website.Silicon Valley Bank was also a bank to more than 2,500 venture capital firms, including Lightspeed, Bain Capital and Insight Partners. It managed the personal wealth of many tech executives and was a stalwart sponsor of Silicon Valley tech conferences, parties, dinners and media outlets.The bank was a “systemically important financial institution” whose services were “immensely enabling for start-ups,” said Matt Ocko, an investor at the venture capital firm DCVC.On Friday, the Federal Deposit Insurance Corporation took control of Silicon Valley Bank’s $175 billion in customer deposits. Deposits of up to $250,000 were insured by the regulator. Beyond that, customers have received no information on when they will regain access to their money.That left many of the bank’s clients in a bind. On Friday, Roku, the TV streaming company, said in a filing that roughly $487 million of its $1.9 billion in cash was tied up with Silicon Valley Bank. The deposits were largely uninsured, Roku said, and it did not know “to what extent” it would be able to recover them.Josh Butler, the chief executive of CompScience, a workplace safety analytics start-up, said he was unable to get his company’s money out of the bank on Thursday or before the bank’s collapse on Friday. The last day, he said, had been nerve-racking.“Everyone from my investors to employees to my own mother are reaching out to ask what’s going on,” Mr. Butler said. “The big question is how soon will we be able to get access to the rest of the funds, how much if at all? That’s absolutely scary.”CompScience was pausing spending on marketing, sales and hiring until it solved more pressing concerns, like making payroll. Mr. Butler said he had been prepared for a big crunch, given the doom and gloom swirling around the industry.But “did I expect it to be Silicon Valley Bank?” he said. “Never.”Camp, a start-up selling gifts and experiences for children, added a banner to its website on Friday that read: “OUR BANK JUST CLOSED — SO EVERYTHING IS ON SALE!”The site offered 40 percent off with the promo code “bankrun” alongside a meme that included the words “i never liked the bay area” and “how could this happen.” A Camp representative said the sale was related to Silicon Valley Bank’s collapse and declined to comment further.Sheel Mohnot, an investor at Better Tomorrow Ventures, said his venture firm advised its start-ups on Thursday to move money into Treasuries and open other bank accounts out of prudence.“Once a bank run has started, it’s hard to stop,” he said.Some of the start-ups that Mr. Mohnot’s firm has invested in chose not to move their money, while others were unable to act in time before the bank failed, he said. Now their biggest concern was making payroll, followed by figuring out how to pay their bills, he said.Haseeb Qureshi, an investor at Dragonfly, a cryptocurrency-focused venture capital firm, said his firm was counseling several of its start-ups that had funds tied up in Silicon Valley Bank.“The first thing you think about is survival,” he said. “It’s a harrowing moment for a lot of people.”Other start-ups were benefiting from the bank’s collapse. On Friday afternoon, Brex, a provider of financial services to start-ups, unveiled an “emergency bridge line of credit” for new customers migrating from Silicon Valley Bank. The service was aimed at helping those start-ups shore up expenses like payroll.For part of Thursday, Brex received billions of dollars in deposits from several thousand companies, a person with knowledge of the situation said. The company rushed to open accounts as fast as possible to meet demand, with its chief executive reviewing applications, the person said.But by Thursday afternoon, the incoming deposits to Brex slowed to a halt, as founders began reporting that Silicon Valley Bank’s online portal had frozen and customers were no longer able to access their money, the person said.A man trying to enter a Silicon Valley Bank branch in Manhattan on Friday. David Dee Delgado/ReutersMany venture capital firms had also used lines of credit with Silicon Valley Bank to make investments quickly and smoothly, Mr. Ocko of DCVC said. Those lines of credit are now frozen, he said.Mr. Ocko added that he did not foresee systemic collapse among start-ups and tech, but predicted “pain and friction and uncertainty and complexity in the middle of what’s already a painful macro environment for start-ups.”To stave off any taint from Silicon Valley Bank, some venture funds blasted updates to their backers. Sydecar, a service that facilitates venture capital deals, shared a list of the banks it uses that were not affected. Origin Ventures promised to help companies “create contingency plans around working capital.”Another venture firm outlined its exposure to Silicon Valley Bank and apologized in a memo, saying, “This is the worst email I’ve ever had to write to you.” The memo was seen by The New York Times.Entrepreneurs also weighed into group chats with the dollar amounts that they could no longer tap at Silicon Valley Bank or what they had managed to pull out, ranging from hundreds of thousands to tens of millions, according to communications viewed by The Times.A trickle of customers walked up to Silicon Valley Bank’s branch in Menlo Park, Calif., on Friday afternoon and discovered that its doors were locked. Some read an F.D.I.C. notice, taped by the entrance, that said the regulator was in control.One person who tried the doors was carrying a Chick-fil-A bag. A woman in the office cracked a door open, asked who the person was and then took the bag with a smile. Then she pulled the door shut.Reporting was contributed by More

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    The Furniture Hustlers of Silicon Valley

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    As tech companies cut costs and move to remote work, their left-behind office furniture has become part of a booming trade.Brandi Susewitz touched the curved stitching on a pair of bright red Arne Jacobsen Egg Chairs and announced they were worth around $5,000 each. The chairs were in pristine condition, perched in the reception area of the software company Sitecore’s office in downtown San Francisco.Trisha Murcia, Sitecore’s workplace manager, said she was likely the only person who ever sat on them. “It’s really sad,” she said. “They opened this office in 2018 and then Covid happened.”Ms. Murcia led Ms. Susewitz around Sitecore’s office, pointing out bar stools that had never been used, 90-inch flat screens, shiny conference room tables and accent chairs from the retailer Blu Dot. The whiteboard walls, outfitted with markers and erasers, were spotless. And rows upon rows of 30-by-60 inch, height-adjustable Knoll desks with Herman Miller Aeron chairs sat collecting dust.Ms. Susewitz measured and snapped photos, identifying designer brands and models. Her office furniture resale business, Reseat, would take all of it, she declared. “We can find a home for this,” she said. “We have time.”Brandi Susewitz looked at two red Arne Jacobsen Egg Chairs during a visit to the Sitecore office in San Francisco last month.Jason Henry for The New York TimesSitecore was reducing its office space because the pandemic meant more employees worked remotely.Jason Henry for The New York TimesMs. Susewitz, who started Reseat in 2020, is one of an increasing number of behind-the-scenes specialists in the Bay Area who are carving out a piece of the great office furniture reshuffling. There are professional liquidators, Craigslist flippers and start-ups spouting buzzwords like “circular economy.” And a few guys with warehouses full of really nice chairs.All of them are capitalizing on a wave of tech companies that are drastically shrinking their physical footprints in the wake of the pandemic-induced shift to remote work and the recent economic slowdown.Nowhere is the furniture glut stronger than in San Francisco. Tech workers have been slowest to return to the office in the city, where commercial vacancy rates jumped to 28 percent last year, up from 4 percent in 2019, according to the real estate firm CBRE. Occupancy in San Francisco in late January was 4 percent below the average of the top 10 U.S. cities, according to the building security firm Kastle. And companies of all sizes, including PayPal, Block and Yelp, are giving up their expensive downtown headquarters or downsizing their office space.Add to that the tech industry’s recent U-turn from optimistic hypergrowth to fear and penny pinching. That has led tech giants such as Google and Salesforce, along with smaller companies like DoorDash and Wish, to carry out widespread layoffs, cutting more than 88,000 workers in the Bay Area over the last year, according to Layoffs.fyi.Some start-ups have abruptly gone under, including the flying car company Kittyhawk, the autonomous vehicle start-up Argo AI and the interior design start-up Modsy. Others have slashed spending, starting with their dusty, rarely-used offices full of designer furniture.Ms. Susewitz checked out an Aeron chair during her visit to Sitecore. She toured the office with Trisha Murcia, Sitecore’s workplace managerJason Henry for The New York TimesMs. Susewitz measured office furniture at Sitecore’s office in downtown San Francisco.Jason Henry for The New York TimesLast month, Twitter held a public auction for some of its furniture, hawking dry erase boards, conference tables and a three-foot blue statue of its bird logo. The social media company, which is owned by Elon Musk, at one point stopped paying the rent on some of its office leases.Layoffs in Big TechAfter a pandemic hiring spree, several tech companies are now pulling back.A Growing List: Alphabet, Microsoft and Zoom are among the latest tech giants to cut jobs amid concerns about an economic slowdown.Salesforce: The company said it would lay off 10 percent of its staff, a decision that seemed to go against the professed commitment of its co-founder and chief executive, Marc Benioff, to its workers.New Parents Hit Hard: At tech companies that spent recent years expanding paid parental leave, parents have felt the whiplash of mass layoffs in an especially visceral way.Tech’s Generational Divide: The recent cuts have been eye-opening to young workers. But to older employees who experienced the dot-com bust, it has hardly been a shock.Martin Pichinson, a founder of Sherwood Partners, an advisory firm that helps restructure failing start-ups, said he was staffing up to handle increased demand. Today’s reckoning was not as severe as that of the dot-com bust in the early 2000s when dozens of tech companies collapsed, he said, but “everyone is acting as if businesses are falling apart.”That’s led to a lot of expendable furniture, much of it hewing to a specific youthful aesthetic of Instagrammable bright colors and midcentury modern shapes. That look, complemented by plant walls of succulents and kombucha on tap, was a hallmark of the tech talent wars over the past two decades, telegraphing a company’s success and sophistication.Then there’s the Aeron chairs. The $1,805 black roller-wheel desk chairs are a closely-watched barometer of tech excesses. Their sleek design makes them a work of art, according to the Museum of Modern Art. And in the tech industry, where workers are used to being pampered while chained to their desks, they are ubiquitous.When internet companies imploded in 2000, liquidators filled their warehouses with the “dot-com thrones.” Now any whiff of empty Aerons piling up conjures memories of that slump and sets off fears that another is imminent.The Bay Area’s Craigslist currently has gobs of the chairs for sale, photographed in warehouses, lined up in corners of conference rooms and wrapped in plastic outside a storage unit. Some are selling for as cheap as a few hundred bucks.The listings are a reminder: Silicon Valley is a place of booms and busts, with enterprising hustlers who see nothing but opportunity, even in the rubble.Mr. Norbu’s furniture reselling business, called Enliven, has expanded to include a van, three employees and a warehouse.Jason Henry for The New York TimesA trail of Dropbox furnitureFor furniture specialists, it all starts with supplies from tech companies like Dropbox.In 2019, the file storage company moved into its 735,000-square-foot headquarters in San Francisco. Its 15-year lease was the largest in the city’s history at the time. Dropbox’s old office was rented to other companies, and last year, a cache of furniture — futuristic-chic chairs, couches and tables — from that office made its way to a liquidator.The inventory included several emerald green velvet Jean Royère-style Polar Bear chairs that cost roughly $10,000 to custom make in 2016, according to their maker, Classic Design LA.Three of those chairs sold to Tenzin Norbu, a furniture reseller in Richmond, Calif., who paid around $1,000 for each. Mr. Norbu, 25, started buying and selling high-end furniture on online marketplaces early in the pandemic, when people were eager to redecorate the homes they were stuck inside and stymied by supply chain delays on furniture.Since then, his business, called Enliven, has expanded to include a van, three employees, a 4,000-square-foot warehouse and annual revenue in the mid-six figures.The tech talent wars, with companies competing to out-perk one another with the fanciest offices, were good for designer furniture. The retreat from that battle has been just as good for resellers.Last year, Mr. Norbu scored some lounge chairs and couches from Fast, a payments start-up that collapsed in the spring. He also paid “tens of thousands” of dollars, he said, to fill a 20-foot truck of still-in-the-box furniture that WeWork, whose valuation had plummeted, had kept in storage since 2019. The trove included dining chairs, lamps, couches and a chunky red Bollo armchair by the Swedish designer Fogia.Mr. Norbu’s inventory included three green Polar Bear chairs that were custom made for Dropbox.Jason Henry for The New York TimesMr. Norbu said he planned to buy furniture from more tech start-ups as his business grows.Jason Henry for The New York TimesOn a recent tour of his warehouse, Mr. Norbu pointed out a pair of never-used felt poufs from a start-up, two glass coffee tables from Delta Air Lines, some gray lounge chairs that were “probably from Google” and plants from a venture capital firm.Mr. Norbu aims to target more tech start-ups as his business expands. The companies are always acquiring or shedding furniture, since they tend to grow quickly and shut down abruptly. Many of his buyers also work in tech, he said, which means they could find themselves eating dinner at the very conference table they once gathered around for meetings.Last year, Mr. Norbu sold one of the Polar Bear chairs that had been owned by Dropbox to a fellow furniture flipper, Nate Morgan, for $1,400. Mr. Morgan started trading furniture in the fall after he was laid off from a business development job at Meta, which owns Facebook and Instagram. He said he quickly discovered the Bay Area contains “crazy pockets of massive amounts of furniture.”Mr. Morgan’s business, Reclamation, recently worked with a wealthy tech entrepreneur who had bought a second San Francisco home to live in while his main home was being renovated. The entrepreneur furnished the 4,000-square-foot second home with new goods from Restoration Hardware. Nine months later, when the entrepreneur moved into his main home, Mr. Morgan bought all of the second home’s furniture for 10 percent of its retail price.Mr. Morgan, 44, said the furniture business was a welcome shift from the 15 years he spent working in tech. “It feels really good to be building a local community business that’s tied to this geographic area,” he said.Outside Mr. Norbu’s 4,000-square-foot furniture warehouse.Jason Henry for The New York TimesMr. Morgan later sold the Polar Bear chair that had been at Dropbox for a profit to an interior designer in Los Angeles, who then sold it to a client in the Hollywood Hills. From the liquidator, to Mr. Norbu, to Mr. Morgan, to the interior designer, each person in the chain made a little money.Dropbox declined to comment. During the pandemic, the company shifted to remote work and made plans to sublet 80 percent of its headquarters. Takers have been slow; the company recently lowered its expected rate, pushed out its target for finding tenants by two years and recorded a $175 million charge on its real estate holdings in 2022.Dropbox’s remaining space has been converted into what the company calls a “studio” instead of an “office,” designed for meetings and “touchdown spots,” or cafes and libraries for people to sit, chat and work briefly. There are no more desks.‘It was a ghost town’Ms. Susewitz, 49, has worked in office furniture since 1997, when she became a customer service representative at Lindsay-Ferrari, a Bay Area furniture dealer now known as One Workplace.The furniture industry’s wastefulness always bugged her, she said, with companies discarding durable, commercial-grade items that were built to last decades every time they moved. Companies waited until the last minute to deal with the furniture, she said, increasing the odds it wound up in the trash.In the late 1990s dot-com boom, Ms. Susewitz created a business plan to build an online marketplace for used office furniture. She abandoned it when eBay took off, thinking the company would eventually solve the problem. “But that never happened,” she said.Over the next two decades, she worked in sales and business development, outfitting Bay Area businesses with goods from “the big five” of workplace furniture — Steelcase, MillerKnoll, Haworth, Allsteel and Teknion.Before the pandemic, Sitecore was expanding its space so rapidly that it had leased another half of a floor in its office tower.Jason Henry for The New York TimesWhen the pandemic hit, Ms. Susewitz’s livelihood of new office furniture screeched to a halt. She watched with disgust as companies tossed out barely-used desks and chairs.“Perfectly good, brand-new furniture is just being carted off to landfills,” she said. So she created Reseat to help businesses liquidate furniture. The company uses an inventory management system that tracks the items’ “life cycles” so it can quickly share the specifications for the furniture, making the goods easier to sell. Given enough time, sellers can expect 20 cents on the dollar for their furniture, she said. Reseat, which has 14 employees, has worked with more than 100 companies and sold more than eight million pounds of furniture.“Our goal is to sell it standing,” Ms. Susewitz said. “Once it ends up in a warehouse, it loses value and ends up collecting dust.”In December, Reseat was hired to liquidate more than 900 work stations, 96 office chairs, 40 work benches, 24 sofas and 84 file cabinets at an office in Santa Clara, Calif. Analog Devices, the semiconductor company that had moved out, hardly used the space during the pandemic. But Pure Storage, the data storage company moving in, didn’t want those pieces. Reseat had just four weeks to sell the items.“It just ate me up inside,” Ms. Susewitz said. That she found buyers in time was “a miracle,” she added.Pure Storage said it was reusing a “substantial” amount of Analog Devices’s furniture, including desk chairs and conference room items, but it planned to install its existing desks “to better suit how Pure employees work in a more open office environment.” An Analog Devices representative declined to comment.Ms. Susewitz was excited about the furniture at Sitecore because the company had contacted Reseat months ahead of its move, setting it up to easily find a home for its goods. At Sitecore’s office, she showed off how to identify the size of an Aeron chair. Each one has a set of plastic bumps hidden on its back. Two bumps indicate the most common size, a “B.”There were 16 size Bs around a wooden conference table that Sitecore had built using wood from a houseboat that was in Sausalito, Calif. In the center, a basin filled with Legos was flanked by the universal emblems of the pandemic: a bottle of Purell and a package of Clorox wipes.Ms. Susewitz said she would take everything from Sitecore’s kitchen area, except for the plates and silverware.Jason Henry for The New York TimesBefore the pandemic, Sitecore was expanding its space so rapidly that it had leased another half of a floor in its office tower. But “once the pandemic hit, it was a ghost town,” said Brad Hamilton, the company’s head of real estate and facilities.Sitecore plans to downgrade to 30 desks from 170. “We’re paying an outrageous amount of money for a floor that nobody uses,” he said.Toward the end of the office tour, Ms. Susewitz surveyed Sitecore’s empty kitchen area, outfitted with a Ping-Pong table, a Ms. Pac-Man machine and two curved, six-foot privacy coves. Ms. Susewitz said she would take everything, except for the plates and silverware.Chair influencersOne result of the furniture trading is a lot more people logging into Zoom meetings from very nice chairs — and not only in the Bay Area.In January, Gilad Rom, a software engineer in Los Angeles, decided to upgrade his work station at home. He searched Craigslist and found a seller with 500 Aeron chairs — apparently acquired from a SiriusXM office that had shifted to remote work — in Culver City, Calif.When he posted a picture of the chairs gathered in a room, their black foam arms intertwined, the reaction was explosive. Some people wanted to score their own cheap Aeron. Many more wanted to reminisce about what the empty chairs represented — corporate excess gone awry.“I think it brought back a lot of memories,” Mr. Rom, 43, said. “Flashbacks from 2008 and 2000.”The seller, a secondhand furniture shop called Wannasofa, was so overwhelmed with calls after Mr. Rom’s tweet that the store gave him a 25 percent discount. “Apparently I’m a chair influencer now,” he said.The reaction also gave him an idea.“Maybe I should build an app that helps people find cheap luxury furniture,” he said. “Maybe there’s something there.” More

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    What Comes Next for the Most Empty Downtown in America

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    The coffee rush. The lunch rush. The columns of headphone-equipped tech workers rushing in and out of train stations. The lanyard-wearing visitors who crowded the sidewalks when a big conference was in town.There was a time three years ago when a walk through downtown San Francisco was a picture of what it meant for a city to be economically successful. Take the five-minute jaunt from the office building at 140 New Montgomery Street to a line-out-the-door salad shop nearby.The 26-story building, an Art Deco landmark that was once the tallest in the city, began its life as the headquarters for the Pacific Telephone & Telegraph Company. Decades later, it served as the home of the local search company Yelp. The nearby salad store was part of a fast-growing chain called Mixt.Yelp and Mixt had little more than proximity in common, which at that time was enough. Yelp was an idea that became billions of dollars in value on the internet. Mixt was a booming business serving lunchtime salads to the workers who traveled on electrified trains and skateboards to their jobs in downtown cubicles.Their virtuous cycle of nearness, of new ideas becoming new companies, feeding other ideas that become other companies, was the template for urban growth.Businesses like Yelp took root in the high-energy, high-density city; chains like Mixt flourished alongside them as their workers ventured out for lunch. As downtowns have emptied out, their once-symbiotic relationship is coming undone.“This area was always packed with people,” recalled Maria Cerros-Mercado, a Mixt manager who built her career in food service downtown. “People would get off the BART, buy coffee, buy this, buy that. There was always just so much walking.”Today San Francisco has what is perhaps the most deserted major downtown in America. On any given week, office buildings are at about 40 percent of their prepandemic occupancy, while the vacancy rate has jumped to 24 percent from 5 percent since 2019. Occupancy of the city’s offices is roughly 7 percentage points below that of those in the average major American city, according to Kastle, the building security firm.Yelp had its offices in this 26-story building at 140 New Montgomery Street in San Francisco but left after the pandemic began.More ominous for the city is that its downtown business district — the bedrock of its economy and tax base — revolves around a technology industry that is uniquely equipped and enthusiastic about letting workers stay home indefinitely. In the space of a few months, Jeremy Stoppelman, the chief executive of Yelp, went from running a company that was rooted in the city to vacating Yelp’s longtime headquarters and allowing its roughly 4,400 employees to work from anywhere in their country.“I feel like I’ve seen the future,” he said.Decisions like that, played out across thousands of remote and hybrid work arrangements, have forced office owners and the businesses that rely on them to figure out what’s next. This has made the San Francisco area something of a test case in the multibillion-dollar question of what the nation’s central business districts will look like when an increased amount of business is done at home.“Imagine a forest where an entire species suddenly disappears,” said Tracy Hadden Loh, a fellow at the Brookings Institution who studies urban real estate. “It disrupts the whole ecosystem and produces a lot of chaos. The same thing is happening in downtowns.”The city’s chief economist, Ted Egan, has warned about a looming loss of tax revenue as vacancies pile up. Brokers have tried to counter that narrative by talking up a “flight to quality” in which companies upgrade to higher-end space. Business groups and city leaders hope to recast the urban core as a more residential neighborhood built around people as well as businesses but leave out that office rents would probably have to plunge for those plans to be viable.Below the surface of spin is a downtown that is trying to adapt to what amounts to a three-day workweek. During a recent lunch at a Mixt location in the financial district, the company’s chief executive, Leslie Silverglide, pointed to the line of badge-holding workers and competition for outdoor tables. It was also, she noted, a Wednesday — what passes for rush hour. On Wednesdays, offices in San Francisco are at roughly 50 percent of their prepandemic levels; on Fridays, they’re not even at 30 percent.A park in downtown San Francisco. On any given week, office buildings are at about 40 percent of their prepandemic occupancy.The lunchtime business downtown is not, and may never, be what it used to be. But if workers aren’t going to return to buying their $17 salads downtown, Mixt will follow them home.Which is why on a recent Wednesday morning, one of Mixt’s managers, Ms. Cerros-Mercado, 35, stood on a mostly empty sidewalk waiting for an Uber (another company that told most of its employees they can work half their time from home).More on CaliforniaBan on Flavored Tobacco: The Supreme Court refused to block a California law banning flavored tobacco, clearing the way for the ban to take effect.L.A.’s New Mayor: Vice President Kamala Harris swore in Karen Bass as the first female mayor of the nation’s second-largest city in a ceremony that celebrated her historic win but also underscored the obstacles ahead.Employee Strike: Postdoctoral students and academic researchers at the University of California said that they would return to work, partly ending a weekslong strike to demand higher pay. Some 36,000 workers remain on strike.A Piece of Black History Destroyed: Lincoln Heights — a historically Black community in a predominantly white, rural county in Northern California — endured for decades. Then came the Mill fire.Ms. Cerros-Mercado lives in San Francisco and used to walk downtown for work but now manages a Mixt branch in Mill Valley, a Marin County suburb that has 14,000 people and $2 million starter homes.Many of the former office workers who live there have yet to return downtown en masse, but their purchases over the past three years have shown that they still want downtown perks and services like a freshly prepared lunch. Mixt opened the Mill Valley location this year as part of a push to generate more business in residential neighborhoods and suburbs.Just before 7:30 a.m. on that recent Wednesday, Ms. Cerros-Mercado watched her Uber pull up outside a downtown Whole Foods so she could start her commute to the suburbs. It proceeded along the sleepy streets where she used to work — past coffee-shops and dim sum restaurants, past the glass towers and the boarded-up storefronts — and sped across the Golden Gate Bridge toward Marin.The Creative ClassAs it happens, Yelp was inspired by a flu.Mr. Stoppelman, 45, contracted the virus shortly after returning to the Bay Area from business school. This was in 2004, back when the internet had enough information that you could find something about anything, yet was also still new enough that the information was rarely more detailed than what you could find in the Yellow Pages. When Mr. Stoppelman went online to find a doctor and was confronted by a bunch of phone and suite numbers but little about the actual physicians, it gave him an idea.Jeremy Stoppelman, chief executive of Yelp, decided to allow its 4,400 employees to work from anywhere in the country.Aaron Wojack for The New York TimesYelp began as a word-of-mouth email service before morphing into the local review and directory site that is now worth about $2 billion. That he had a good idea was less important to the company’s success than the Bay Area’s tech ecosystem — the experience and social connections Mr. Stoppelman gained from his previous job at PayPal helped him procure $1 million in start-up funding.Another factor, Mr. Stoppelman said, was a crucial decision, unusual at the time, to locate the company in a San Francisco office building instead of a Silicon Valley office park.“I’m not sure that Yelp would have succeeded if we weren’t in the city,” he said. “When you’re in a city, there’s lots of places you might go, and an efficient way to sort through the possibilities is important. Yelp was a killer app for the city.”San Francisco is about 40 miles from the heart of Silicon Valley, which for the most part consists of low-slung suburban cities that sit along U.S. 101 and have sprawling office campuses surrounded by acres of parking. Until fairly recently, however, the city was considered a subpar place for start-ups.The downtown business district had historically revolved around banks and insurance companies. And the wave of tech companies that sprouted up in San Francisco during the dot-com boom of the late 1990s became symbols of that period’s delusions when they went out of business during the dot-com bust. Mr. Stoppelman said the surplus of fly-by-night companies gave credence to a joke that circulated around PayPal: Start-ups do better in the suburbs because their workers have less to do outside the office.But the bust provided an opportunity in the form of cheap office space that proliferated through the city’s South of Market neighborhood, which sits next to the financial district. Besides, for a new generation of start-up founders like Mr. Stoppelman, who was in his 20s and single when Yelp started, the city just seemed more fun.In San Francisco, and around the country, a growing preference for urban living was showing up in surveys, condo prices and pour-over coffee shops. Economists like Edward Glaeser at Harvard and Richard Florida at the University of Toronto distilled this movement into a sort of new urban theory that said cities were benefiting from several converging trends, including a more tech-driven economy, plunging crime rates and the bubble of young millennials entering the work force.Downtown San Francisco in December. Until 2020, the area was packed with people.In his 2002 book, “Rise of the Creative Class,” Mr. Florida posited that instead of seeking lower taxes and operating costs or locating near suburban enclaves with good schools, companies like Yelp were sprouting in cities rich with the design and engineering workers their businesses needed to grow. He parlayed the book’s success into a consulting firm, the Creative Class Group, which advises cities on strategies for attracting young workers.The advice — find educated workers, create dense fun neighborhoods and embrace social liberalism — could be reduced, effectively, to “become more like San Francisco.”An irony of San Francisco’s emerging status as an economic bellwether was that until the Great Recession, when a plunge in tax revenue prompted the local government to go scrambling for ways to stimulate growth, the city had made no special effort to attract tech companies. In the wake of the downturn, however, the city altered its tax code to be more welcoming to start-ups, while office owners started offering the shorter leases start-ups desire and open floor plans that allow companies to cram more people together.Less than a decade later, a city that was never more than a Silicon Valley satellite was the epicenter of a new boom, with companies like Twitter, Lyft, Uber, Dropbox, Reddit and Airbnb all setting up inside the city limits. And the employees who worked there needed lunch.Ms. Cerros-Mercado, who grew up in the city, watched this unfold while building her career at Specialty’s, a local cafe and sandwich chain known for its giant cookies. She started working there for about $10 an hour and regarded it as a stopping off point that would help support her children as she went through college, with the hopes that she would later go to nursing school.But she came to like it and rose from being a cashier to a kitchen manager and then general manager who made $80,000 with time off, along with dental and health benefits. The main location where she worked was downtown, next to a Mixt restaurant whose lines spilled onto the street.The Creative Class and Its DiscontentsEmpty seats at a restaurant in downtown San Francisco, perhaps the most deserted business district in America.For the optimized office worker looking for the trifecta of fast, healthy and filling, few meals are more efficient than a pile of veggies and some dressing swirled with tofu or grilled chicken. Unfortunately, the aspirations of a salad are often dashed by the difficulty of making one that is actually good. The ingredients come from every corner of the supermarket, and if they aren’t combined in the right proportions, or if they are made too far in advance, every bite is a drag.Ms. Silverglide, 42, the chief executive of Mixt, tried to solve this problem with a setup in which customers proceeded down a counter and called out ingredients like grilled chicken and roasted brussels sprouts while stipulating exactly how much dressing they wanted. She said the naysayers of the time told her that there weren’t enough salad eaters to sustain her company, or that only women would eat there.Instead, lines extended down the block, and Yelp’s users gave the business three and a half stars. People like Mike Ghaffary discovered a healthier kind of lunch in a restaurant where customization was encouraged.Mr. Ghaffary is a former Yelp executive and serial optimizer who went to Mixt in search of a vegan meal that was high in protein and low in sugar. The salad he came up with paired lentils, chickpeas and quinoa with greens and a cilantro jalapeño vinaigrette.Over the next several years, as Yelp grew and went public, Mixt thrived alongside it, adding a dozen locations through downtown and other city neighborhoods. Mr. Ghaffary became something of a Mixt evangelist (“He was very proud of the beany salad he came up with,” Mr. Stoppelman said) and ordered his vegetal concoction so frequently that the salad was added to the permanent menu and still sits on the board under the name “Be Well.”In the city, however, well-being was taking a hit.The tech companies that San Francisco had tried so hard to attract were now the target of regular protests, including some by demonstrators who at the end of 2013 began blocking commuter buses from Google and other companies to show their rage at rents that now sit at a median of $3,600. This was an opening gesture in what would become an ongoing debate about gentrification and the effect of tech companies on the city — a debate that played out in arguments over homeless camps, votes to stop development and countless more protests.All of this was rooted in the cost of housing, which had been expensive for decades but had morphed into a disaster. A local government that had all but begged tech companies to set up shop there was now pushing a raft of new taxes to deal with its spiraling affordable housing and homelessness problems. In 2017, the year the Salesforce Tower eclipsed the Transamerica Pyramid as the city’s tallest skyscraper, Mr. Florida published another book. It was called “The New Urban Crisis.”Ramps to the Salesforce Transit center in San Francisco. The vacancy rate for downtown offices has risen to 24 percent from 5 percent since 2019.An axiom of the post-Covid economy is that the pandemic didn’t create new trends so much as it accelerated trends already in place. Such is the case with Yelp, which long ago started moving employees in response to San Francisco’s rising cost of living, opening sales offices around the country and new engineering hubs in London and Toronto.Still, it was hard to see how that might pose any kind of threat to the city, whose greatest challenge seemed to be dealing with the too many jobs it already had.Expansions aside, Yelp was still ensconced in its headquarters at 140 New Montgomery, and by early 2020, it had every intention of signing a new lease. The company’s ties to San Francisco, the hold of the creative class and all that, were too strong to imagine anything in its place.Headquartered in the Cloud“Have you heard about Covid?”Ms. Cerros-Mercado remembers asking a regional manager at Specialty’s that question sometime in February or early March of 2020. The virus had been in the news for weeks, but it didn’t seem like more than a seasonal bug until her 19-year-old daughter’s school trip to Spain was canceled. The manager she asked wasn’t so sure.“He’s like, ‘Oh, it’s just a flulike virus; it will go away,” she said. “And I’m looking at him and telling him, ‘No, this is actually really serious.’”Ms. Cerros-Mercado described the following weeks as a blur of plunging sales and eerie moments like standing in a coffee shop with no customers or hearing from a janitor that the offices above them were clearing out. By May, Specialty’s had filed for Chapter 7 bankruptcy after a conference call in which she and other managers were thanked for their service and told they would be employed for three more days, during which they would deliver the news they had just received to the people who worked for them.“One of the hardest conversations was having to talk to my team,” she said. “I had some team members that were crying because they weren’t sure where their income was going to come from.”In that moment, the question was when life would return to how it was. But as Mr. Stoppelman discovered that he could run a publicly traded company from his home with no loss of business, he decided that for his company, anyway, the new normal was better. Yelp abandoned its headquarters when the lease at 140 New Montgomery lapsed, joining a growing list of tech companies that had replaced free cafeterias and Ping-Pong breakrooms — which for more than a decade had been rationalized by a belief that a social company was a more innovative company — with slogans like “headquartered in the cloud.”Yelp ended up adding back about 50,000 feet for employees who want an occasional desk, but for the city that figure is even smaller than it seems. The new offices are one-third of its former footprint; Yelp subleased the space from Salesforce — the city’s largest private employer, which is also cutting back on local offices.The emptying of American downtowns after Covid was followed by a boom in exurban housing and in cities like Austin and Spokane, trends reflected in where Yelp’s work force has landed. Cortney Ward, 41, a Yelp product designer, bought a home in Austin after leaving her one-bedroom apartment in San Francisco’s Nob Hill. Yelp workers also invented new habits and left holes in the businesses that relied on them. When Diego Waxemberg, 30, a software engineer, left the Bay Area for Charlotte, N.C., he started lunching on leftovers instead of sometimes buying a $17 Mixt salad with tri-tip steak. Mackenzie Bise, 30, who works in user operations, moved to the Sacramento area, and during a recent online search discovered that her favorite San Francisco lunch spot had gone out of business.Maria Cerros-Mercado preparing the Mixt salad shop in Mill Valley to open for the day.During the height of the pandemic, Ms. Cerros-Mercado went through a spell of unemployment before landing at another restaurant chain and later at Mixt. But downtown business was still somewhere between lagging and nonexistent. Mixt laid off hundreds of workers, closed most downtown stores for more than a year and subsisted on business from neighborhood and suburban stores.“If we didn’t have the neighborhood restaurants, we wouldn’t have survived — point blank,” Ms. Silverglide said.But for all the daily rhythms that were upended by home offices, the desire for a specially prepared lunch seems to have endured. Consider Mr. Ghaffary, creator of the Be Well salad, who used the pandemic as a challenge to recreate Mixt’s setup in the kitchen of his Marin County home. He started with fresh ingredients but got tired of his frequent trips to the grocery store and shifted to preparing them in bulk.“I’d make like four or five days of Tupperware,” he said. “First I tried making the whole salad, and then it would get soggy. Then I made half the salad and would finish the rest at the end.”“I was very proud of my streamlined production methods,” he continued. “And then I was kind of like, ‘I don’t want to be making these salads.’”Mr. Ghaffary told this story over salad at Mixt’s Mill Valley store, the one Ms. Cerros-Mercado manages, which opened in July and had lines of customers in athleisure. Operations are slightly more difficult because some employees commute an hour or more to get there, most relying on buses and one sometimes trying to catch a ride in Ms. Cerros-Mercado’s Uber. When a worker misses the bus, Ms. Cerros-Mercado spends her morning trying to cover for holes in the setup line.But the business was steady, and according to Ms. Silverglide it extends until 9 at night, catering to families and a growing salad-for-dinner segment that pairs plates of greens with the various wines and craft beers recently added to the menu. She is fairly confident that Mixt’s “neighborhood locations,” like the Mill Valley one, will drive the business’s expansion. Business in downtown San Francisco has been picking up — but it’s unclear how long that will last, or how close to prepandemic traffic it will ever reach. The offices, after all, haven’t even hit 50 percent.Better TogetherThe building at 140 New Montgomery Street is empty but still an Art Deco landmark.A wood reception desk that used to greet Yelp’s visitors sits empty in its former office. The mounted iPad where visitors once checked in is gone, along with the bright jars of candy and the rows of desks that sat beyond them. But there are still views.“You can see that you get good natural light all around,” said Stacey Spurr, a regional director for Pembroke, which owns 140 New Montgomery, during a recent tour of the quiet and empty but still quite gorgeous building.Ms. Spurr began the tour by pointing out the gold ceilings in the lobby before proceeding to the basement, where there are showers and bike racks. The empty floors upstairs are layered with boastful stickers like the one about the building’s A-plus air filtration system.The nearly 160,000 square feet that Yelp left empty is about half of the building’s space, and about half of that has been re-leased. The good news for Pembroke seems less good for the city. Some of the new tenants are finance and venture capital firms that have clung to the gravitas of a physical office for client meetings and the occasional conference but are unlikely to contribute regular foot traffic, according to building owners across the city.In a typical downturn, the turnaround is a fairly simple equation of rents falling far enough to attract new tenants and the economy improving fast enough to stimulate new demand. But now there’s a more existential question of what the point of a city’s downtown even is.Downtown San Francisco is trying to adapt to what amounts to a three-day workweek. On Wednesdays, offices are at 50 percent of their prepandemic levels; on Fridays, they’re not even at 30 percent.The city, and business groups like Advance SF, are trying to reframe the urban core as a more residential and entertainment district that draws from throughout the region and may in the future involve the conversion of office buildings to residential use. The motto is “Better Together,” and Advance SF recently hosted a forum with a guest economist to discuss new ideas for downtown. The guest was Richard Florida.“When I started with the creative class, places didn’t care about young people, they were only trying to attract a family with children to the lovely suburbs, and I’m saying, ‘No, no, no, no, no,’” Mr. Florida said in an interview. “Twenty years later, people forgot about the families. And now here’s a whole generation leaving cities again, for metropolitan or virtual suburbs.”The more businesses invest with that new reality in mind, the more likely that reality becomes self-fulfilling.A year after being consumed by bankruptcy, Specialty’s, the cafe chain where Ms. Cerros-Mercado began her career, was reincarnated. The first new store sits in the Silicon Valley town of Mountain View, and as the company plots its next expansion it is eschewing the office-adjacent locations on which the original company was built for a more delivery-centric business that has a world of half-empty buildings in mind.Back at 140 New Montgomery, the owners are experimenting with new ideas to get office workers to come in. The building has been hosting gatherings like an Oktoberfest celebration that included a raffle to win a beer stein with the building’s logo.On the afternoon of the Oktoberfest party, a cluster of workers from a software company stood around eating sausages and soft pretzels.“We hear a lot of buzz about this building,” said Veronica Arvizu, a senior property manager at the real estate company CBRE. “We hear it’s the busiest in the city.”A few feet away from her, another group of young workers was playing Jenga. One by one, they took blocks away from the structure, making way for the inevitable collapse. More

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    Tech’s Talent Wars Have Come Back to Bite It

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    Hiring the best, the brightest and the highest number of employees was a badge of honor at tech companies. Not anymore as layoffs surge.When Stripe, a payments start-up valued at $74 billion, laid off more than 1,000 employees this month, its co-founders blamed themselves. “We overhired for the world we’re in,” they wrote. “We were much too optimistic.”After Elon Musk, Twitter’s new owner, slashed the company’s staffing in half last week, Jack Dorsey, a founder and former chief executive of the social media service, claimed responsibility. “I grew the company size too quickly,” he wrote on Twitter.And on Wednesday, when Meta, the parent company of Facebook and Instagram, shed 11,000 people, or about 13 percent of its work force, Mark Zuckerberg, the chief executive, blamed overzealous expansion. “I made the decision to significantly increase our investments,” he wrote in a letter to employees. “Unfortunately, this did not play out the way I expected.”The chorus of conceding by tech executives that they hired too many people is ricocheting across Silicon Valley as the industry rushes to make cuts, blaming a worsening economy.But at least part of the surge in layoffs was self-inflicted. When the companies enjoyed soaring profits and a belief that the pandemic-fueled boom times would keep going, they aggressively expanded by hoarding the most fought-over and expensive resource in the software business: talent.Silicon Valley tech companies have long seen hiring as more than just filling openings. The industry’s fierce talent wars showed that companies like Google and Meta were gaining the best and brightest. Ballooning staffs and a long reign atop lists of the most-desired jobs for college graduates were emblems of growth, deep pockets and prestige. And to employees, the work became something larger — it was an identity.The Austin, Texas, campus of Google, a veteran of the tech industry’s hiring wars.Brandon Thibodeaux for The New York TimesThis mentality became ingrained at the largest tech companies, which offer numerous perks on lavish corporate campuses that rival universities. It was echoed by smaller start-ups, which dangle a chance at life-changing wealth in the form of stock options.Now these practices are giving the tech industry indigestion.“When times are flush, you get excesses, and excesses lead to overhiring and optimism,” said Josh Wolfe, an investor at Lux Capital. “For the past 10 years, the abundance of cash led to an abundance of hiring.”More than 100,000 tech workers have lost their jobs this year, according to Layoffs.fyi, a site that tracks layoffs. The cuts range from well-known publicly traded companies like Meta, Salesforce, Booking.com and Lyft to highly valued private start-ups such as the Gopuff delivery service and the Chime and Brex financial platforms.More on Big TechMeta Layoffs: The parent of Facebook said it was laying off more than 11,000 people, or about 13 percent of its work force, in what amounted to the company’s most significant job cuts.Seeking Alternatives: Since Elon Musk bought Twitter, some of its users have sought out other social media platforms. Here is a closer look at Mastodon, one of the most popular alternatives.An Empire in Danger: U.S. lawmakers’ objections to an obscure Chinese semiconductor company and tough Covid-19 restrictions are hurting Apple’s ability to make new iPhones in China.Big Tech’s Slowdown: Amid inflation and rising interest rates, Silicon Valley’s most powerful companies are signaling that tough days may be ahead. Some have already announced hiring freezes and job cuts.Many of the job losses have taken place in tech’s most experimental areas. Astra, a rocket company, cut 16 percent of its staff this week after tripling its head count last year. In the cryptocurrency industry, which has suffered a meltdown this year, high-value companies including Crypto.com, Blockchain.com, OpenSea and Dapper Labs have cut hundreds of workers in recent months.Tech leaders were too slow to react to signs of an economic slowdown that emerged this spring, after many of the companies had already been on hiring sprees for several years, tech analysts said.Meta, whose valuation soared past $1 trillion, doubled its staff to 87,314 people over the past three years. Robinhood, the stock trading app, expanded its work force nearly sixfold in 2020 and 2021.“They’ve charged ahead with these plans that are no longer based on reality,” said Caitlyn Metteer, director of recruiting at Lever, a provider of recruiting software.For many, it’s a moment of shock. “Are we in a bubble” panics in the tech industry over the last decade have always been short-lived, followed by a rapid return to even frothier good times. Even those who predicted that pandemic behaviors enabled by the likes of Zoom, Peloton, Netflix and Shopify would ebb now say they underestimated the extent.Many believe this downturn will last longer because of the macroeconomic factors that created it. For the past decade, low interest rates pushed investors into riskier assets that offered higher returns. Those investors valued fast growth over profits and rewarded companies that took big risks.Jack Dorsey wrote on Twitter, which he helped start, that he had expanded the company too quickly.Marco Bello/Agence France-Presse — Getty ImagesIn recent years, tech companies responded to the flood of cash from investors and a rapidly growing business by pouring money into expansion via sales and marketing, hiring, acquisitions and experimental projects. The excess capital encouraged companies to staff up, adding fuel to the war for talent.“The pressure is to just spend the money quick enough so you can grow fast enough to justify the kinds of investments V.C.s want to make,” said Eric Rachlin, an entrepreneur who co-founded Body Labs, an artificial intelligence software company that Amazon bought.Expanding head count was also a way for managers to advance their careers. “Getting more people on the team is easier than telling everyone to just work super hard,” Mr. Rachlin said.That led the tech industry to gain a reputation for corporate bloat. Rumors often circulated of highly compensated workers who clocked just a few hours of work a day or juggled multiple remote jobs at once, alongside elaborate office perks like free laundry, massages and renowned cafeteria chefs. This spring, Meta scaled back its perks, including laundry service.In the past, tech workers could quickly change jobs or land on their feet if they were cut because of the plethora of open positions, but “I don’t think we know yet if everyone in this wave of layoffs will be able to do that,” Mr. Rachlin said.Some people see a chance to help those entering a difficult job market for the first time. Stephen Courson recently left a career in sales and strategy at Gartner, the research and consulting firm, and Salesforce to create financial content. He initially planned to focus on time management, but after many of his friends went through painful layoffs he began working on a course that helps people prepare for job interviews. It’s a skill that many of today’s job hunters never had to hone in flush times.“This isn’t going to get better quickly,” he said.Amid the drumbeat of layoff announcements, investors see an opportunity. They are quick to point out that well-known successes of the last decade — companies like Airbnb, Uber, Dropbox — were created in the aftermath of the Great Recession.This week, Day One Ventures, a venture capital firm, announced Funded Not Fired, a program that aims to invest $100,000 into 20 new start-ups where at least one founder was laid off from a tech company. Within 24 hours, hundreds of people had applied, said Masha Bucher, founder of the firm.“Some of the people are saying, ‘This is a sign I’ve been waiting for,’” she said. “It really gives people hope.”In the meantime, there may be more layoff announcements — delivered through the now standard form of a letter from the chief executive posted to a company blog.These letters have taken on a familiar format. The bosses explain the grim economic outlook, citing inflation, “energy shocks,” interest rates, “one of the most challenging real estate markets in 40 years” or “probable recession.” They take the blame for growing too fast. They offer up support to those affected — severance, visa help, health care, career guidance. They express sadness and thank everyone.And they reaffirm the company’s mission. More

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    The Long Road to Driverless Trucks

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    Self-driving eighteen-wheelers are now on highways in states like California and Texas. But there are still human “safety drivers” behind the wheel. What will it take to get them out?This article is part of our series on the Future of Transportation, which is exploring innovations and challenges that affect how we move about the world.In March, a self-driving eighteen-wheeler spent more than five straight days hauling goods between Dallas and Atlanta. Running around the clock, it traveled more than 6,300 miles, making four round trips and delivering eight loads of freight.The result of a partnership between Kodiak Robotics, a self-driving start-up, and U.S. Xpress, a traditional trucking company, this five-day drive demonstrated the enormous potential of autonomous trucks. A traditional truck, whose lone driver must stop and rest each day, would need more than 10 days to deliver the same freight.But the drive also showed that the technology is not yet ready to realize its potential. Each day, Kodiak rotated a new team of specialists into the cab of its truck, so that someone could take control of the vehicle if anything went wrong. These “safety drivers” grabbed the wheel multiple times.Tech start-ups like Kodiak have spent years building and testing self-driving trucks, and companies across the trucking industry are keen to reap the benefits. At a time when the global supply chain is struggling to deliver goods as efficiently as businesses and consumers now demand, autonomous trucks could alleviate bottlenecks and reduce costs.Now comes the most difficult stretch in this quest to automate freight delivery: getting these trucks on the road without anyone behind the wheel.Companies like Kodiak know the technology is a long way from the moment trucks can drive anywhere on their own. So they are looking for ways to deploy self-driving trucks solely on highways, whose long, uninterrupted stretches are easier to navigate than city streets teeming with stop-and-go traffic.“Highways are a more structured environment,” said Alex Rodrigues, chief executive of the self-driving-truck start-up Embark. “You know where every car is supposed to be going. They’re in lanes. They’re headed in the same direction.”Restricting these trucks to the highway also plays to their strengths. “The biggest problems for long-haul truckers are fatigue, distraction and boredom,” Mr. Rodrigues explained on a recent afternoon as one of his company’s trucks cruised down a highway in Northern California. “Robots don’t have a problem with any of that.”It’s a sound strategy, but even this will require years of additional development.Part of the challenge is technical. Though self-driving trucks can handle most of what happens on a highway — merging into traffic from an on-ramp, changing lanes, slowing for cars stopped on the shoulder — companies are still working to ensure they can respond to less common situations, like a sudden three-car pileup.As he continued down the highway, Mr. Rodrigues said his company has yet to perfect what he calls evasive maneuvers. “If there is an accident in the road right in front of the vehicle,” he explained, “it has to stop itself quickly.” For this and other reasons, most companies do not plan on removing safety drivers from their trucks until at least 2024. In many states, they will need explicit approval from regulators to do so.But deploying these trucks is also a logistical challenge — one that will require significant changes across the trucking industry.In shuttling goods between Dallas and Atlanta, Kodiak’s truck did not drive into either city. It drove to spots just off the highway where it could unload its cargo and refuel before making the return trip. Then traditional trucks picked up the cargo and drove “the last mile” or final leg of the delivery.In order to deploy autonomous trucks on a large scale, companies must first build a network of these “transfer hubs.” With an eye toward this future, Kodiak recently inked a partnership with Pilot, a company that operates traditional truck stops across the country. Today, these are places where truck drivers can shower and rest and grab a bite to eat. The hope is that they can also serve as transfer hubs for driverless trucks.“The industry can’t afford to build this kind of infrastructure from scratch,” said Kodiak’s chief executive, Don Burnette. “We have to find ways of working with the existing infrastructure.”They must also consider the impact on truck drivers: They aim to make long-haul drivers obsolete, but they will need more drivers for the short haul.Executives like Mr. Burnette and Mr. Rodrigues believe that drivers will happily move from one job to the other. The turnover rate among long-haul drivers is roughly 95 percent, meaning the average company replaces nearly its entire work force each year. It is a stressful, monotonous job that keeps people away from home for days on end. If they switch to city driving, they can work shorter hours and stay close to home.But a recent study from researchers at Carnegie Mellon University and the University of Michigan questions whether the transition will be as smooth as many expect. Truck drivers are typically paid by the mile. A shift to shorter trips, the study says, could slash the number of miles traveled and reduce wages.Certainly, some drivers fear they cannot make as much money driving solely in cities. Others are loath to give up their time on the highway.“There are many drivers like me,” said Cannon Bryan, a 28-year-old long-haul trucker from Texas. “I wasn’t born in the city. I wasn’t raised in the city. I hate city driving. I enjoy picking up a load in Dallas and driving to Grand Rapids, Mich.”Building and deploying self-driving trucks is far from easy. And it is enormously expensive — on the order of hundreds of millions of dollars a year. TuSimple, a self-driving truck company, has faced concerns that the technology is unsafe after federal regulators revealed that one of its trucks had been involved in an accident. Aurora, a self-driving technology company with a particularly impressive pedigree, is facing challenging market conditions and has floated the possibility of a sale to big names like Apple or Microsoft, according to a report from Bloomberg News.If these companies can indeed get drivers out of their vehicles, this raises new questions. How will driverless trucks handle roadside inspections? How will they set up the reflective triangles that warn other motorists when a truck has pulled to the shoulder? How will they deal with blown tires and repairs?Eventually, the industry will also embrace electric trucks powered by battery rather than fossil fuel, and this will raise still more questions for autonomous trucking. Where and how will the batteries get recharged? Won’t this prevent self-driving trucks from running 24 hours a day, as the industry has promised?“There are so many issues that in reality are far more complex than they might seem on paper,” said Steve Viscelli, an economic and political sociologist at the University of Pennsylvania who specializes in trucking. “Though the developers and their partners are putting a lot of effort into thinking this through, many of the questions about what needs to change cannot yet be answered. We are going to have to see what reality looks like.”Some solutions will be technical, others logistical. The start-up Embark plans to build a roaming work force of “guardians” who will locate trucks when things go wrong and call for repairs as needed.The good news for the labor market is that this technology will create jobs even as it removes them. And though experts say that more jobs will ultimately be lost than gained, this will not happen soon. Long-haul truckers will have years to prepare for a new life. Any rollout will be gradual.“Just when you think this technology is almost here,” said Tom Schmitt, the chief executive of Forward Air, a trucking company that just started a test with Kodiak’s self-driving trucks, “it is still five years away.” More

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    From Boom to Gloom: Tech Recruiters Struggle to Find Work

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    Seemingly overnight, the tech industry flipped from aggressive growth, hiring sprees, lavish perks and boundless opportunity to layoffs, hiring freezes and doing more with less.Nora Hamada, a 35-year-old who works with recruiters who hire employees for tech companies, is trying to be optimistic. But the change upended her online business, Recruit Rise, which teaches people how to become recruiters and helps them find jobs.In June, after layoffs trickled through tech companies, Ms. Hamada stopped taking new customers and shifted her focus away from high-growth start-ups. “I had to do a 180,” she said. “It was an emotional roller coaster for sure.”Throughout the tech industry, professional hirers — the frontline soldiers in a decade-long war for tech talent — are reeling from a drastic change of fortune.For years during an extraordinary tech boom, recruiters were flush with work. As stock prices, valuations, salaries and growth soared, companies moved quickly to keep up with demand and beat competitors to the best talent. Amy Schultz, a recruiting lead at the design software start-up Canva, marveled on LinkedIn last year that there were more job postings for recruiters in tech — 364,970 — than for software engineers — 342,586.But this year, amid economic uncertainty, tech companies dialed back. Oracle, Tesla and Netflix laid off staff, as did Peloton, Shopify and Redfin. Meta, Google, Microsoft and Intel made plans to slow hiring or freeze it. Coinbase and Twitter rescinded job offers. And more than 580 start-ups laid off nearly 77,000 workers, according to Layoffs.fyi, a crowdsourced site that tracks layoffs.The pain was acute for recruiters. Robinhood, the stock trading app that was hiring so quickly last year that it acquired Binc, an 80-person recruiting firm, underwent two rounds of layoffs this year, cutting more than 1,000 employees.Now some recruiters are adapting from blindly filling open jobs, known as a “butts in seats” strategy, to having “more formative” conversations with companies about their values. Others are cutting their rates as much as 30 percent or taking consulting jobs, internships or part-time roles. At some companies, recruiters are being asked to make sales calls to fill their time.“Companies are being looked at pretty dramatically differently in the investor market or public market, and now they have to pretty quickly adapt,” said Nate Smith, chief executive of Lever, a provider of recruiting software.It is a confusing time for the job market. The unemployment rate remains low, and employees who outlasted the “Great Resignation” of the millions who quit their jobs during the pandemic became accustomed to demanding more flexibility around their schedules and remote working.Nora Hamada’s program for training recruiters, Recruit Rise, grew quickly after she started it last summer.Leah Nash for The New York TimesBut companies are using layoffs and the specter of a recession to assert more control. Mark Zuckerberg, chief executive of Meta, said he was fine with employees’ “self-selection” out of the company as he set a new, relentless pace of work. Some companies have asked employees to move to a headquarters city or leave, which observers say is an indirect way to trim head count without doing layoffs.Plenty of tech companies are still hiring. Many of them expect growth to bounce back, as it did for the tech industry a few months after the initial shock of the pandemic in 2020. But companies are also under pressure to turn a profit, and some are struggling to raise money. So even the best-performing firms are being more careful and taking longer to make offers. For now, recruiting is no longer a top priority.Recruiters know the industry is cyclical, said Bryce Rattner Keithley, founder of Great Team Partners, a talent advisory firm in the San Francisco Bay Area. There’s an expression about gumdrops — or “nice to have” hires — versus painkillers, who are employees that solve an acute problem, she said.“A lot of the gumdrops — that’s where you’re going to see impact,” she said. “You can’t buy as many toys or shiny things.”Ms. Hamada started Recruit Rise in July last year, when recruiting firms were so overbooked that companies had to call in favors for the privilege of their business. Her company aimed to help meet that demand by offering people — typically midcareer professionals — a nine-week training course in recruiting for technical roles.The program grew quickly, forging relationships with prominent venture capital firms and Y Combinator’s Continuity Fund, which helped funnel students from Ms. Hamada’s program into recruiting jobs at high-growth tech start-ups.In May, emails from companies wanting to hire her students started tapering off. The venture firms she worked with began publishing doom-and-gloom blog posts about cutbacks. Then the layoffs started.Ms. Hamada stopped offering new classes to focus on helping existing students find jobs. She scrambled to contact companies outside the tech industry that were hiring tech roles — like banks or retailers — as well as software development agencies and consulting groups.“It was a scary period,” she said.For Jordana Stein, the shift happened on May 19. Her start-up, Enrich, hosts recurring discussion groups for professionals. In recent years, the most popular one was focused on “winning the talent wars” by hiring quickly. Enrich’s virtual events typically filled up with a wait list. But that day, three people showed up, and they didn’t talk about hiring — they talked about layoffs.“All of a sudden, the needs changed,” Ms. Stein, 39, said. Enrich, based in San Francisco, created a new discussion group focused on employee morale during a downturn.Pitch, a software start-up based in Berlin, froze hiring for new roles in the spring. The company’s four recruiters suddenly had little to do, so Pitch directed them to take rotations on other teams, including sales and research.By keeping the recruiters on staff, Pitch will be ready to start growing quickly again if the market rebounds, said Nicholas Mills, the start-up’s president.“Recruiters have a lot of transferable skills,” he said.Lucille Lam, 38, has been a recruiter her entire career. But after her employer, the crypto security start-up Immunefi, slowed its recruiting efforts in the spring, she switched to work in human resources. Instead of managing job listings and sourcing recruits, she began setting up performance review systems and “accountability frameworks” for Immunefi’s employees.“My job morphed heavily,” she said.Ms. Lam said she appreciated the chance to learn new skills. “Now I understand how to do terminations,” she said. “In a market where nobody’s hiring, I’ll still have a valuable skill set.”Matt Turnbull, a co-founder of Turnbull Agency, said at least 15 recruiters had asked him for work in recent months because their networks had dried up. Some offered to charge 10 percent to 30 percent below their normal rates — something he had never seen since starting his agency, which operates from Los Angeles and France, seven years ago.“Many recruiters are desperate now,” he said.Those who are still working have it harder than before. Job candidates often get stuck in holding patterns with companies that have frozen budgets. Others see their offers suddenly rescinded, leading to difficult conversations.“I have to try to be as honest as possible without discouraging them,” Mr. Turnbull said. “That doesn’t make not being not wanted any easier.”At Recruit Rise, Ms. Hamada restarted classes to train recruiters in late August. Steering her students away from start-ups funded by venture capital has shown promise, even if some of them have started with internships or part-time work instead of a full-time gig.Ms. Hamada is hopeful about the new direction, but less so about the tech companies propped by venture capital funding. “They’re not looking that stable right now,” she said. More

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    F.T.C. Chair Lina Khan Upends Antitrust Standards by Suing Meta

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    Lina Khan may set off a shift in how Washington regulates competition by filing cases in tech areas before they mature. She faces an uphill climb.WASHINGTON — Early in her tenure as chair of the Federal Trade Commission, Lina Khan declared that she would rein in the power of the largest technology companies in a dramatically new way.“We’re trying to be forward looking, anticipating problems and taking fast action,’’ Ms. Khan said in an interview last month. She promised to focus on “next-generation technologies,” and not just on areas where tech behemoths were already well established.This week, Ms. Khan took her first step toward stopping the tech monopolies of the future when she sued to block a small acquisition by Meta, the company formerly known as Facebook, of the virtual-reality fitness start-up Within. The deal was significant for Meta’s development of the so-called metaverse, which is a nascent technology and far from mainstream.In doing so, Ms. Khan upended decades of antitrust standards, potentially setting off a wholesale shift in the way Washington enforces competition across corporate America. At the heart of the F.T.C.’s lawsuit is the idea that regulators can apply antitrust law without waiting for a market to mature to the point where it is clear which companies hold the most power. The F.T.C. said such early action was justified because Meta’s deal would probably eliminate competition in the young virtual-reality market.Since the late 1970s, most federal challenges to mergers have been in large, well-established markets and aim to prevent already clear monopolies. Regulators have mostly rubber-stamped the purchases of start-ups by tech giants, such as Google’s 2006 deal to buy YouTube and Facebook’s 2012 acquisition of Instagram, because those markets were still emerging.As a result, Ms. Khan faces an uphill climb. Regulators have been reluctant to try to stop corporate mergers by relying on the theory that competition and consumers will be harmed in the future. The federal government lost at least two cases that used this strategy in the past decade, including an attempt to block a $1.9 billion merger in 2015 among X-ray sterilization providers that the F.T.C. had predicted would harm future competition in regional markets.The F.T.C.’s lawsuit against Meta in the budding virtual-reality market is a “deliberately experimental case that seeks to extend the boundaries of merger enforcement,” said William Kovacic, a former chair of the agency. “Such cases are certainly harder to win.”The F.T.C.’s action immediately caused a ruckus within antitrust circles and across the tech industry. Silicon Valley tech executives said that moving to block a deal in an embryonic area of technology might stifle innovation and spook technologists from taking bold leaps in new areas.“Regulators predicting future markets is a very, very dangerous precedent and position,” said Aaron Levie, the chief executive of the cloud storage company Box. He warned that venture capitalists and entrepreneurs would become wary of going into new markets if regulators cut off the ability of companies like Meta to buy start-ups.Adam Kovacevich, the president of the trade group Chamber of Progress, which represents Meta, Amazon and Alphabet, also said the lawsuit would have a chilling effect on innovation.Read More on Facebook and MetaA New Name: In 2021, Mark Zuckerberg announced that Facebook would change its name to Meta, as part of a wider strategy shift toward the so-called metaverse that aims at introducing people to shared virtual worlds.Morphing Into Meta: Mr. Zuckerberg is setting a relentless pace as he leads the company into the next phase. But the pivot  is causing internal disruption and uncertainty.Zuckerberg’s No. 2: In June, Sheryl Sandberg, the company’s chief financing officer announced she would step down from Meta, depriving Mr. Zuckerberg of his top deputy.Tough Times Ahead: After years of financial strength, the company is now grappling with upheaval in the global economy, a blow to its advertising business and a Federal Trade Commission lawsuit.“This is such an extreme and unfounded reaction to a small deal that many tech industry leaders are already worrying about what an F.T.C. win would mean for start-ups,” he said.For Ms. Khan, winning the lawsuit may be less of a priority than showing it’s possible to file against a tech deal while it is still early. She has said regulators were too cautious in the past about intervening in mergers for fear of harming innovation, allowing a wave of deals between tech giants and start-ups that eventually cemented their dominance.“What we can see is that inaction after inaction after inaction can have severe costs,” she said in an interview with The New York Times and CNBC in January. “And that’s what we’re really trying to reverse.”Ms. Khan declined requests for an interview for this article, and the F.T.C. declined to comment on Thursday.Mark Zuckerberg, Meta’s chief executive, testifying on Capitol Hill in 2019. He has bet the company on the metaverse, a technology frontier.Pete Marovich for The New York TimesMeta said the F.T.C. was applying antitrust law incorrectly. The lawsuit focuses on how the merger with Within would remove competition, but Meta said the agency was ignoring the large number of companies that also had health and fitness apps.“The F.T.C. has no answer to the most basic question — how could Meta’s acquisition of a single fitness app in a dynamic space with many existing and future players possibly harm competition?” Nikhil Shanbhag, Meta’s vice president and associate general counsel, wrote in a blog post.The company added that it hadn’t decided on whether to challenge the lawsuit, which was filed on Wednesday in U.S. District Court for the Northern District of California.The F.T.C. accused Meta of building a virtual reality “empire,” beginning in 2014 with its purchase of Oculus, the maker of the Quest virtual-reality headset. Since then, Meta has acquired around 10 virtual-reality app makers, such as the maker of a Viking combat game, Asgard’s Wrath, and several first-person shooter and sports games.By buying Within and its Supernatural virtual-reality fitness app, the F.T.C. said, Meta wouldn’t create its own app to compete and would scare potential rivals from trying to create alternative apps. That would hobble competition and consumers, the agency said.“This acquisition poses a reasonable probability of eliminating both present and future competition,” according to the lawsuit. “And Meta would be one step closer to its ultimate goal of owning the entire ‘Metaverse.’”Rebecca Haw Allensworth, a professor of antitrust law at Vanderbilt University, said the F.T.C.’s arguments would face tough scrutiny because Meta and Within did not compete with each other and because the virtual-reality market was fledgling.“The way that merger analysis has stood for at least 40 years is about what kind of head-to-head competition does this merger take out of the picture,” she said.The onus will now be on the agency to convince a judge that its predictions about the metaverse and Meta’s purchase would harm competition.“The burden is on the F.T.C. to show, among other things, reasonable probability that Meta would have entered the V.R.-dedicated fitness apps market, absent its acquisition of Within,” said Diana Moss, president of the American Antitrust Institute.If the court dismisses the case, Ms. Khan may have created a precedent that would make it harder to pursue nascent competition cases, antitrust experts cautioned. That could then embolden tech giants to acquire their way into new lines of businesses.“This is a precedential system which goes both ways — if you win or lose — and sends a signal to the market,” Ms. Allensworth said.The F.T.C. is reviewing other tech deals, including Microsoft’s $70 billion acquisition of the gaming company Activision and Amazon’s $3.9 billion merger with One Medical, a national chain of primary care clinics. In addition, the agency has been investigating Amazon on claims of monopoly abuses in its marketplace of third-party sellers.Ms. Khan appears to be prepared for long legal battles with the tech giants even if the cases do not end up going the F.T.C.’s way.In her earlier interview with The Times and CNBC, she said, “Even if it’s not a slam-dunk case, even if there is a risk you might lose, there can be enormous benefits from taking that risk.” More

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    Loans Could Burn Start-Up Workers in Downturn

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    SAN FRANCISCO — Last year, Bolt Financial, a payments start-up, began a new program for its employees. They owned stock options in the company, some worth millions of dollars on paper, but couldn’t touch that money until Bolt sold or went public. So Bolt began providing them with loans — some reaching hundreds of thousands of dollars — against the value of their stock.In May, Bolt laid off 200 workers. That set off a 90-day period for those who had taken out the loans to pay the money back. The company tried to help them figure out options for repayment, said a person with knowledge of the situation who spoke anonymously because the person was not authorized to speak publicly.Bolt’s program was the most extreme example of a burgeoning ecosystem of loans for workers at privately held tech start-ups. In recent years, companies such as Quid and Secfi have sprung up to offer loans or other forms of financing to start-up employees, using the value of their private company shares as a sort of collateral. These providers estimate that start-up employees around the world hold at least $1 trillion in equity to lend against.But as the start-up economy now deflates, buffeted by economic uncertainty, soaring inflation and rising interest rates, Bolt’s situation serves as a warning about the precariousness of these loans. While most of them are structured to be forgiven if a start-up fails, employees could still face a tax bill because the loan forgiveness is treated as taxable income. And in situations like Bolt’s, the loans may be difficult to repay on short notice.“No one’s been thinking about what happens when things go down,” said Rick Heitzmann, an investor at FirstMark Capital. “Everyone’s only thinking about the upside.”The proliferation of these loans has ignited a debate in Silicon Valley. Proponents said the loans were necessary for employees to participate in tech’s wealth-creation engine. But critics said the loans created needless risk in an already-risky industry and were reminiscent of the dot-com era in the early 2000s, when many tech workers were badly burned by loans related to their stock options.Ted Wang, a former start-up lawyer and an investor at Cowboy Ventures, was so alarmed by the loans that he published a blog post in 2014, “Playing With Fire,” advising against them for most people. Mr. Wang said he got a fresh round of calls about the loans anytime the market overheated and always felt obligated to explain the risks.“I’ve seen this go wrong, bad wrong,” he wrote in his blog post.Start-up loans stem from the way workers are typically paid. As part of their compensation, most employees at privately held tech companies receive stock options. The options must eventually be exercised, or bought at a set price, to own the stock. Once someone owns the shares, he or she cannot usually cash them out until the start-up goes public or sells.That’s where loans and other financing options come in. Start-up stock is used as a form of collateral for these cash advances. The loans vary in structure, but most providers charge interest and take a percentage of the worker’s stock when the company sells or goes public. Some are structured as contracts or investments. Unlike the loans offered by Bolt, most are known as “nonrecourse” loans, meaning employees are not on the hook to repay them if their stock loses its value.This lending industry has boomed in recent years. Many of the providers were created in the mid-2010s as hot start-ups like Uber and Airbnb put off initial public offerings of stock as long as they could, hitting private market valuations in the tens of billions of dollars.That meant many of their workers were bound by “golden handcuffs,” unable to leave their jobs because their stock options had become so valuable that they could not afford to pay the taxes, based on the current market value, on exercising them. Others became tired of sitting on the options while they waited for their companies to go public.The loans have given start-up employees cash to use in the meantime, including money to cover the costs of buying their stock options. Even so, many tech workers do not always understand the intricacies of equity compensation.“We work with supersmart Stanford computer science A.I. graduates, but no one explains it to them,” said Oren Barzilai, chief executive of Equitybee, a site that helps start-up workers find investors for their stock. Secfi, a provider of financing and other services, has now issued $700 million of cash financing to start-up workers since it opened in 2017. Quid has issued hundreds of millions’ worth of loans and other financing to hundreds of people since 2016. Its latest $320 million fund is backed by institutions, including Oaktree Capital Management, and it charges those who take out loans the origination fees and interest.So far, less than 2 percent of Quid’s loans have been underwater, meaning the market value of the stock has fallen below that of the loan, said Josh Berman, a founder of the company. Secfi said that 35 percent of its loans and financing had been fully paid back, and that its loss rate was 2 to 3 percent.But Frederik Mijnhardt, Secfi’s chief executive, predicted that the next six to 12 months could be difficult for tech workers if their stock options decline in value in a downturn but they had taken out loans at a higher value.“Employees could be facing a reckoning,” he said.Such loans have become more popular in recent years, said J.T. Forbus, an accountant at Bogdan & Frasco who works with start-up employees. A big reason is that traditional banks won’t lend against start-up equity. “There’s too much risk,” he said.Start-up employees pay $60 billion a year to exercise their stock options, Equitybee estimated. For various reasons, including an inability to afford them, more than half the options issued are never exercised, meaning the workers abandon part of their compensation. Mr. Forbus said he’d had to carefully explain the terms of such deals to his clients. “The contracts are very difficult to understand, and they don’t really play out the math,” he said. Some start-up workers regret taking the loans. Grant Lee, 39, spent five years working at Optimizely, a software start-up, accumulating stock options worth millions. When he left the company in 2018, he had a choice to buy his options or forfeit them. He decided to exercise them, taking out a $400,000 loan to help with the cost and taxes.In 2020, Optimizely was acquired by Episerver, a Swedish software company, for a price that was lower than its last private valuation of $1.1 billion. That meant the stock options held by employees at the higher valuation were worth less. For Mr. Lee, the value of his Optimizely stock fell below that of the loan he had taken out. While his loan was forgiven, he still owed around $15,000 in taxes since loan forgiveness counts as taxable income.“I got nothing, and on top of that, I had to pay taxes for getting nothing,” he said.The office of Envoy, a start-up that makes workplace software, in San Francisco. The company began a loan program in May.Lauren Segal for The New York TimesOther companies use the loans to give their workers more flexibility. In May, Envoy, a San Francisco start-up that makes workplace software, used Quid to offer nonrecourse loans to dozens of its employees so they could get cash then. Envoy, which was recently valued at $1.4 billion, did not encourage or discourage people from taking the loans, said Larry Gadea, the chief executive.“If people believe in the company and want to double down on it and see how much better they can do, this is a great option,” he said.In a downturn, loan terms may become more onerous. The I.P.O. market is frozen, pushing potential payoffs further into the future, and the depressed stock market means private start-up shares are probably worth less than they were during boom times, especially in the last two years.Quid is adding more underwriters to help find the proper value for the start-up stock it lends against. “We’re being more conservative than we have in the past,” Mr. Berman said.Bolt appears to be a rarity in that it offered high-risk personal recourse loans to all its employees. Ryan Breslow, Bolt’s founder, announced the program with a congratulatory flourish on Twitter in February, writing that it showed “we simply CARE more about our employees than most.”The company’s program was meant to help employees afford exercising their shares and cut down on taxes, he said.Bolt declined to comment on how many laid-off employees had been affected by the loan paybacks. It offered employees the choice of giving their start-up shares back to the company to repay their loans. Business Insider reported earlier on the offer.Mr. Breslow, who stepped down as Bolt’s chief executive in February, did not respond to a request for comment on the layoffs and loans.In recent months, he has helped found Prysm, a provider of nonrecourse loans for start-up equity. In pitch materials sent to investors that were viewed by The New York Times, Prysm, which did not respond to a request for comment, advertised Mr. Breslow as its first customer. Borrowing against the value of his stock in Bolt, the presentation said, Mr. Breslow took a loan for $100 million. More