Former DreamWorks CEO Jeffrey Katzenberg co-leads $15.5M Series A for AI video ad platform

DreamWorks co-founder Jeffrey Katzenberg's venture fund WndrCo co-led a $15.5 million Series A round for Creatify, an AI video ad platform.
Creatify's AdMax platform uses AI to quickly generate dozens of video advertisements, which are geared toward social media marketing -- AdMax analyzes high-performing social video campaigns on apps like TikTok and Instagram to shape its output.
Tech industry titans have been bullish on AI advertising. Meta CEO Mark Zuckerberg recently spoke about his ambitions to automate all of advertising with an AI ad tool, which would test thousands of ads on Facebook, Instagram, and Threads users.
This degree of automation may seem drastic, but it is not a foregone conclusion. While Katzenberg has been an entertainment industry executive since before DVDs were invented, his bets are not always correct -- he was also the founder of Quibi, the short video platform that infamously raised $1.75 billion and shut down six months later.

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Miami Herald

an hour ago

• Miami Herald

McDonald's to suffer massive boycott from customers

Over the past year, McDonald's (MCD) has struggled to resonate with consumers after facing backlash for dramatically hiking its menu prices during inflation. To add fuel to the fire, it also suffered a temporary E. coli outbreak in a few of its restaurant locations in October, further scaring away customers. Amid these challenges, McDonald's sales have declined over the past few financial quarters, despite its efforts to win back customers with menu changes and deals, and the trend continued during the first few months of this year. Don't miss the move: Subscribe to TheStreet's free daily newsletter McDonald's first-quarter earnings report for 2025 revealed that its U.S. comparable sales decreased by 3.6% year-over-year. This contributed to the company facing a 3% year-over-year decline in its operating income, which is its profit after paying operating expenses. Related: McDonald's CEO sounds alarm on major customer problem Also, according to recent data from the number of customers that visited McDonald's stores during the quarter fell by 2.6%. During an earnings call on May 1, McDonald's CEO Chris Kempczinski said that the "impact of inflation and heightened anxiety about the economic outlook" impacted sales during the quarter. "We entered 2025 knowing that it would be a challenging time for the QSR industry due to macroeconomic uncertainty and pressures weighing on the consumer," said Kempczinski. "During the first quarter, geopolitical tensions added to the economic uncertainty and dampened consumer sentiment more than we expected." As McDonald's struggles to attract customers to its restaurants, it has another major problem on its hands that threatens to impact sales. Between June 24 and June 30, the fast-food chain will face a major boycott from customers, which The People's Union USA is organizing. The group previously organized boycotts of Amazon, Walmart, and Target earlier this year. In a recent Instagram post, The People's Union USA founder John Schwarz said that the group is calling for a boycott of McDonald's for five reasons. First, he alleges the fast-food chain pays "less in taxes than the people serving their food." "McDonald's benefits from loopholes and offshore tax havens, allowing them to pay a fraction of what they should," he wrote in the post. "Meanwhile, their minimum wage employees pay more in effective taxes than the billion-dollar corporation they work for." Related: McDonald's announces major store change to win back customers Second, he claims McDonald's is "one of the worst offenders of price gouging" as it has "dramatically raised prices in the last few years," despite raking in record profits. Third, Schwarz claims McDonald's "has a long history of anti-union tactics, silencing employees, and avoiding accountability." "They use franchise loopholes to dodge direct responsibility while lobbying against higher wages and benefits," wrote Schwarz. Fourth, he alleges that McDonald's exploits "global supply chains and environmental loopholes" as its supply chain is connected to "deforestation, poor labor conditions, and unsustainable agricultural practices." Fifth, he said McDonald's likes to "perform DEI for the cameras but fund the opposite." "While McDonald's runs DEI-focused ads, their political donations and lobbying often support candidates and legislation that undermine equity, labor rights, and marginalized communities," he wrote. The People's Union USA has been organizing "economic blackouts" of large corporations since February. So far, it has organized specific weeklong boycotts aimed at Amazon, Walmart, General Mills, and Target. Starbucks, Home Depot, and Lowe's are next on its list. According to the group's website, it aims to "expose corruption and exploitation" and "hold corporations accountable" through these boycotts. More Food + Dining: Domino's Pizza unveils generous deal amid alarming consumer trendSteak 'n Shake's beef tallow fries aren't as healthy as they appearThe Cheesecake Factory makes bittersweet changes to its menu "We're building a people-powered force that's not just pushing back, but preparing to take power back from the corporations, the billionaire class, and the political parasites that have been feeding off our work, our wages, and our rights for far too long," said The People's Union USA on its website. Amid heightened political tensions, more consumers nationwide are opting to protest with their wallets. According to a recent survey from CLYDE/Ipsos, 53% of Americans said that if a company takes a stand on an issue they disagree with, they are less likely to buy their products or use their services. Related: Dollar General suffers major boycott from customers The Arena Media Brands, LLC THESTREET is a registered trademark of TheStreet, Inc.

Atlantic

2 hours ago

• Atlantic

The Perverse Pride of Having Never Owned a Smartphone

This article was featured in the One Story to Read Today newsletter. Sign up for it here. Unlike nearly 98 percent of Americans under the age of 50, I don't have a smartphone. Actually, I've never had a smartphone. I've never called an Uber, never 'dropped a pin,' never used Venmo or Spotify or a dating app, never been in a group chat, never been jealous of someone on Instagram (because I've never been on Instagram). I used to feel ashamed of this, or rather, I was made to feel ashamed. For a long time, people either didn't believe me when I told them that I didn't have a smartphone, or reacted with a sort of embarrassed disdain, like they'd just realized I was the source of an unpleasant odor they'd been ignoring. But over the past two years, the reaction has changed. As the costs of being always online have become more apparent, the offline, air-gapped, inaccessible person has become an object of fascination, even envy. I have to confess that I've become a little smug about being a Never-Phoner—a holdout who somehow went from being left behind to ahead of the curve. How far ahead is difficult to say. I think I've avoided the worst effects of the smartphone: the stunned, preoccupied affect; the social atrophy; the hunched posture and long horizontal neck creases of the power scroller. I'm pretty sure my attention span is better than many others', based on the number of people I've observed in movie theaters who either check their phone every few minutes (about half) or scroll throughout the entire movie (always a handful). I will, by the way, let you know if I witness you engaging in similar behavior: If you look at your phone more than once an hour, I will call you an 'iPad baby'; if you put on an auto-generated Spotify playlist, I'll call you 'a hog at the slop trough.' Being phoneless has definitely had downsides. The pockets of every jacket I own are filled with maps scrawled on napkins, receipts, and utility bills torn in half to get me to unfamiliar places. I once missed an important job interview because I'd mislabeled the streets on my hastily sketched map. At the end of group dinners, when someone says, 'Everyone Venmo me $37.50,' the two 20s I offer are taken up like a severed ear. And I'd be lying if I said I didn't occasionally get wistful about all the banter I'm probably missing out on in group chats. Still, I've held out, though it's hard to articulate exactly why. The common anti-smartphone angles don't really land with me. The cranky 'Get off your darn phone!' seems a little too close to 'Get off my lawn!'—a knee-jerk aversion to new things is, if not the root of all evil, then the root of all dullness. The popular exhortations to 'be fully present in the moment' also seem misguided. I think the person utterly absorbed in an Instagram Reel as they shuffle into the crosswalk against the light, narrowly saved by the 'Ahem, excuse me' double-tap on the horn that bus drivers use to tell you that you're a split second from being reunited with your childhood dog, is probably living in the moment to a degree usually achieved only by Buddhist monks; the problem is just that it's the wrong moment. Read: Why are there so many 'alternative devices' all of a sudden? Mostly, I think the reason I don't opt for the more frictionless phone life is that I can't help noticing how much people have changed in the decade or so since smartphones have become ubiquitous. I used to marvel at the walking scroller's ability to sightlessly navigate the crowd, possibly using some kind of batlike sonar. But then, on occasion, whether out of a vague antisocial impulse (not infrequent) or simple necessity (as in navigating a narrow aisle at the grocery store), I'd play a game of chicken with one of these people, walking directly toward them to see when they'd veer off. A surprising percentage of the time, they didn't, and after the collision, they'd always blame me. Eventually, I realized they're not navigating anything; they've just outsourced responsibility for their corporeal self to everyone else around them, much as many people have outsourced their memory to their phone. You're probably saying, well, at least they're on foot, and not driving a car. But many people look at their phones behind the wheel too. At a four-way stop, oftentimes the driver who yields to the crossing vehicle will steal a half-second look at their phone while they wait. At red lights, I see people all the time who don't look up from their phone when the light turns green—they just depress the gas when the car in front of them moves. Less hazardous but somehow more disturbing are the people I see scrolling in parked cars late at night. When I glance over—startled by the sudden appearance of a disembodied, underlit face on an otherwise deserted block—these people typically glare back, looking aggrieved and put-upon, as if I've broken a contract I didn't know I'd agreed to. I try to give them the benefit of the doubt; maybe they share a bed with a light sleeper, or have six annoying kids bouncing off the walls at home. But it happens often enough that I've come to think of them as the embodiment of contemporary alienation. Twenty-five years ago, we had Bowling Alone; today, we have scrolling alone. Of course, a phone is just a medium, no different on some level from a laptop or a book, and the blanket 'phone bad' position elides the fact that people could be doing a nearly infinite number of things on them, many of them productive. The guy hunched intently over his phone at the gym might be reading the latest research on novel cancer treatments. But probably not. Once, a guy at my gym, whose shoulder I looked over as he used the stationary bike in front of me, was talking to an AI-anime-schoolgirl chatbot on his phone. She was telling him, in a very small, breathy voice, how she'd been in line at the store earlier, and when someone had cut in front of her, she'd politely spoken up and asked them to go to the back of the line. 'That's great, baby,' he said. 'I'm so proud of you for standing up for yourself.' This is more or less typical of the stuff I spy people doing on their phone—self-abasing, a devitalized substitute for some real-life activity, and incredibly demoralizing, at least in the eyes of a phoneless naif. Many times, I've watched friends open a group chat, sigh, and go through a huge backlog of unread messages, mechanically dispensing heart eyes and laughing emoji—friendship as a data-entry gig you aren't paid for, yet can't quit. I have a girlfriend, but one of my friends often lets me watch as he uses the dating apps. Like most men (including myself), he overestimates his attractiveness while underestimating the attractiveness of the women he swipes on. 'I guess I'll give her a chance,' he'll say, swiping right on a woman whom ancient civilizations would've gone to war over. As long as this friend does his daily quota of swipes, he's 'out there and on the market,' he tells me, and there's 'nothing more he can do.' Yet we go to the same coffee shop, and several times a week, we see a woman who seems to be his perfect match. Each day, he comes in, reads his little autofiction book, then takes out his laptop to peck away at a little autofiction manuscript. Each day, she comes in, reads her little autofiction book, then takes out her laptop to peck away at what we've theorized must also be a little autofiction manuscript. Sometimes they sit, by chance, at adjacent tables, so close that I'm sure he can smell her perfume. On these occasions, I try to encourage him from across the room—I raise my eyebrows suggestively, I subtly thrust my hips under the table. After she leaves, I go over and ask why he didn't talk to her; he reacts as if I suggested a self-appendectomy. 'Maybe I'll see her on the apps,' he says, of the woman he's just seen in real life for the 300th time. I don't blame him. He's 36 and has only ever dated through apps. Meeting people in public does seem exponentially harder than it was just 10 years ago. The bars seem mostly full of insular friend groups and people nervously awaiting their app dates. (Few things are more depressing than witnessing the initial meeting of app users. 'Taylor … ? Hi, Riley.' The firm salesmanlike handshake, the leaning hug with feet kept at maximum distance, both speaking over each other in their job-interview voices.) I often see people come into a bar, order a single drink, sit looking at their phone for 20 to 30 minutes, and then leave. Maybe they're being ghosted. Or maybe they're doing exactly what they intended to do. But they frequently look disappointed; I imagine that their visit was an attempt at something—giving serendipity an opportunity to tap them on the shoulder and say, Here you go, here's the encounter that will fix you. Witnessing all of this, I sense that a huge amount of social and libidinal energy has been withdrawn from the real world. Where has it all gone? Data centers? The comments? Many critics of smartphones say that phones have made people narcissists, but I don't think that's right. Narcissists need other people; the emotional charge of engagement is their lifeblood. What the oblivious walking scroller, the driving texter, the unrealistic dating-app swiper have in common is almost the opposite—a quality closer to the insularity of solipsism, the belief that you're the one person who actually exists and that other people are fundamentally unreal. Solipsism, though, is a form of isolation, and to become accustomed to it is to make yourself a kind of recluse, capable of mimicking normalcy yet only truly comfortable shuffling among your feeds, muttering darkly to yourself. I know that my refusal to get a smartphone is an implicit admission that I would become just as addicted to it as anyone else. Recently, my girlfriend handed me her phone and told me to put on music for sex; a few minutes later, she leaned over to see what was taking so long. I had been looking at the Wikipedia page for soft-serve ice cream. I have no idea why I was looking at that or even how I'd gotten there. It's like the sudden availability of unlimited information had sent me into a fugue state, and I just started swiping and scrolling. I guess I looked into the void and fell in. I won't lie; it felt kind of nice, giving up.

Business Insider

4 hours ago

• Business Insider

From Elon Musk to Mark Zuckerberg, these are the high-profile billionaires who have founded schools

Several billionaires have started schools, to varying degrees of success. The ventures stretch from preschools to high schools, and many are founded by tech billionaires. Some are scheduled to close, and some have yet to open. Billionaires can seem everywhere these days, and the school system is no different. In recent years, a number of the country's wealthiest have founded schools, to varying degrees of success. As the education system is undergoing potentially profound changes under President Donald Trump 's second administration and some schools face privatization, billionaires have thrown their hats — and dollars — into the educational ring. From Elon Musk to Mark Zuckerberg, here are some of the billionaires who have founded schools in recent years. Elon Musk The Tesla CEO and the world's richest man has founded multiple schools. His latest, a private preschool called Ad Astra, is scheduled to open in the fall of 2025, according to its website. Ad Astra is in Bastrop, Texas, close to Starbase, the city Musk founded near his SpaceX complex. The school is accepting applications for kids between the ages of three and nine. It's not a Montessori school but draws on similar principles, focusing on child-centered learning, according to the website. The curriculum focuses on STEM subjects — fitting since Ad Astra is Latin for "to the stars." According to the school's site, Ad Astra will subsidize tuition in the opening year and will later cost around as much as local private schools. A permit from the Texas Health and Human Services Department allowing Ad Astra to open in 2025 specified that it can enroll 21 students in its first year. The application materials, first reported by Bloomberg, said the school aims to expand into a STEM-focused university. None of the application materials to the state include Musk's name, but his foundation donated $100 million to the preschool, according to tax filings, as BI previously reported. In 2014, Musk opened a different school in California named Ad Astra for his children and the kids of SpaceX employees. That venture evolved into a largely online school called Astra Nova. According to its website, Astra Nova serves around 300 students between the ages of 10 and 14. Class offerings on the site range from special relativity to songwriting to ethical hacking. Mark Zuckerberg Mark Zuckerberg and his wife Priscilla Chan created The Primary School in 2016 through their philanthropy, the Chan Zuckerberg Initiative. The tuition-free private school said in April 2025 that it would close by the end of the 2026 academic year. The Primary School is a tuition-free private school with locations in East Palo Alto and East Bay, California. According to its website, it serves hundreds of students and works to more closely connect parents, teachers, and medical and mental health professionals. The school's website highlights diversity, equity, and inclusion, and its closure was announced at the same time some of Zuckerberg's other ventures rolled back DEI efforts. Meta dropped many of its DEI initiatives in January 2025, and the Chan Zuckerberg Initiative ended its own DEI efforts one month later. A message announcing the closure on the school website says that the Chan Zuckerberg Initiative will invest $50 million in surrounding communities in the coming years, including savings plans for soon-to-be former students and "transition specialists" for families. Zuckerberg was worth $235.6 billion at the time of writing, according to Forbes. Jeff Bezos Amazon founder and executive chairman Jeff Bezos founded a whole network of preschools called Bezos Academy. He started the schools through the Bezos Day One Fund, and the first location opened in 2020. Bezos Academy runs "Montessori-inspired preschools in under-resourced communities," according to its website. Bezos attended a Montessori school himself. The schools are tuition-free and serve children between the ages of three and five. The website lists schools in Arizona, Florida, Hawaii, Kentucky, Texas, and Washington. Bezos was worth $226.8 billion at the time of writing, according to Forbes. Oprah Winfrey Oprah Winfrey opened the Oprah Winfrey Leadership Academy for Girls, a boarding school in South Africa, in 2007. More than 525 girls have graduated, according to the Oprah Foundation website. The school serves students from 8th to 12th grade and has a 1% acceptance rate, per the Oprah Foundation. Oprah posted on Instagram about attending graduation at the school in 2024, saying in the caption that she had been to 22 of the ceremonies. Oprah was worth $3.1 billion at the time of writing, according to Forbes. LeBron James Los Angeles Lakers star Lebron James founded a school in his hometown of Akron, Ohio, in 2018, in partnership with the local public school system. The LeBron James Family Foundation backed the I Promise School, which is "dedicated to those students who are already falling behind and in danger of falling through the cracks," according to its website. As a public school, I Promise is funded by the Akron Public Schools district, but receives addition funds from James' foundation, according to Case Western University. It serves students between first and eighth grade and provides wraparound services, including a longer school day. James was worth $1.2 billion at the time of writing, according to Forbes. Laurene Powell Jobs Unlike the other billionaires on this list, investor Laurene Powell Jobs hasn't started one individual school but an independent nonprofit that distributes money to high schools across the country. According to its website, XQ Institute is "rethinking high school " and is based on the idea that the rapidly changing workplace and technological world demand a new educational approach. Powell Jobs, widow of Steve Jobs, co-founded XQ Institute in 2015. Powell Jobs' organization, the Emerson Collective, has invested $300 million in XQ Institute, which has also granted grants to schools across the country. However, as BI previously reported, XQ Institute has encountered some controversies over its data and efficacy in recent years. Powell Jobs was worth $13.9 billion at the time of writing, according to Forbes.