Shaoyu Yuan, Rutgers University – Newark and Jun Xiang, Rutgers University – Newark

It may sound far-fetched, but the future of global technology supremacy could hinge on a video game.

Black Myth: Wukong, China’s latest blockbuster, isn’t just breaking gaming records – it could be driving a critical shift in the global balance of technological power. What seems like just another action-packed video game is, in reality, a vital component in Beijing’s larger strategy to challenge Western dominance in the tech industry.

The game, released by Chinese company Game Science on Aug. 19, 2024, is based on the legendary 16th century Chinese novel “Journey to the West.” The novel tells the story of a monk, Xuanzang, who journeys to India in search of Buddhist scrolls. The monkey Sun Wukong protects the monk by confronting and battling various demons and spirits.

Black Myth: Wukong has captivated millions with its stunning visuals and storytelling. It quickly became a cultural sensation in China and abroad, attracting widespread attention and praise for its graphic fidelity and technological sophistication.

As global affairs scholars, we see that the game’s success goes beyond the number of downloads or accolades. It’s what this success is driving within China’s technology sector that has far-reaching consequences.

Video games and global power

For years, China has been playing catch-up in the tech race, particularly in the production of semiconductors – the tiny microchips that power everything from smartphones to advanced artificial intelligence systems. The United States has maintained its dominance in this field by limiting China’s access to the most advanced chip-making technology.

As of 2024, China has shifted away from its aggressive “wolf warrior” diplomacy to a more cooperative approach in order to rebuild international ties. The government has also issued mandates for companies like Huawei to develop domestic chips. However, China’s success in boosting semiconductor development and production using these approaches has been limited.

Historically, video games have played a significant role in driving technological innovation in the semiconductor industry. From the early days of the 8-bit Nintendo Entertainment System to the modern PlayStation 5, gaming has always pushed chipmakers to develop faster, more efficient processors and graphics processing units, or GPUs. The intense graphical requirements of modern games – high resolutions, faster frame rates and real-time rendering – demand the most advanced semiconductor technology. The development of advanced GPUs by companies like NVIDIA was directly influenced by the gaming industry’s needs.

Gamers require advanced processors to enjoy Black Myth: Wukong’s high-end visual and gameplay experience. Built using the state-of-the-art Unreal Engine 5 video game development tool, the game is a visual spectacle featuring lifelike graphics, seamless open-world environments and complex combat systems. The game is available for PlayStation 5 and PCs, and Game Science plans to release an Xbox version.

As Black Myth: Wukong sweeps across gaming platforms, it not only puts pressure on China’s semiconductor makers to build more and better chips, but it also reveals the vast market potential for high-performance hardware, especially for gaming PCs equipped with powerful GPUs. The game’s success showcases just how big the demand is.

Market analysts expect the Chinese video game industry to reach revenues of US$66.13 billion in 2024, compared with $78.01 billion in the U.S. Analysts predict the game will have annual sales of 30 million to 40 million copies in 2024.

China’s gaming industry has surged into a global powerhouse, yet it remains dependent on foreign-made chips. Coupled with the West‘s restrictions on chip exports, Wukong has become a key catalyst for China’s semiconductor development, and domestic companies now face growing pressure to innovate.

This pressure aligns with Beijing’s broader technological ambitions. The government’s “Made in China 2025” plan calls for technological self-reliance, particularly in sectors like semiconductors, where China lags behind. And advanced GPUs haven’t been confined to the entertainment industry. They have become integral to advances in AI, including deep learning and autonomous systems.

Flexing China’s cultural muscle

While it might seem strange to link video games with geopolitics, Black Myth: Wukong is more than just entertainment. It’s a tool in China’s soft power arsenal. Soft power is nations influencing each other through cultural exports. For decades, the West, particularly the U.S., dominated global culture through Hollywood, music and video games.

Now, China is flexing its cultural muscle. The success of Black Myth: Wukong abroad, where it has been hailed as a game-changing title, is part of Beijing’s strategy to export its culture and technological prowess. Millions of gamers around the world are now being exposed to Chinese mythology, art and storytelling through a highly sophisticated digital medium.

But Black Myth: Wukong isn’t just a cultural triumph for China; it’s a warning shot. The country is taking advantage of its booming gaming industry to drive advances in a field that will define the future of technology. This game not only exports Chinese culture but also strengthens its tech base by accelerating the demand for domestic semiconductors.

While Black Myth: Wukong entertains millions, it also shows China’s growing influence in the digital realm. In the future, we might not look back at Black Myth: Wukong as just a successful video game, but as a catalyst that helped China close the technological gap with the West. Beijing is playing a long game, and video games like Black Myth: Wukong are turning out to be effective weapons.

Shaoyu Yuan, Dean’s Fellow at the Division of Global Affairs, Rutgers University – Newark and Jun Xiang, Professor of Economics and Global Affairs, Rutgers University – Newark

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

R. Alexander Bentley, University of Tennessee

In my research focused on early farmers of Europe, I have often wondered about a curious pattern through time: Farmers lived in large dense villages, then dispersed for centuries, then later formed cities again, only to abandon those as well. Why?

Archaeologists often explain what we call urban collapse in terms of climate change, overpopulation, social pressures or some combination of these. Each likely has been true at different points in time.

But scientists have added a new hypothesis to the mix: disease. Living closely with animals led to zoonotic diseases that came to also infect humans. Outbreaks could have led dense settlements to be abandoned, at least until later generations found a way to organize their settlement layout to be more resilient to disease. In a new study, my colleagues and I analyzed the intriguing layouts of later settlements to see how they might have interacted with disease transmission.

Earliest cities: Dense with people and animals

Çatalhöyük, in present-day Turkey, is the world’s oldest farming village, from over 9,000 years ago. Many thousands of people lived in mud-brick houses jammed so tightly together that residents entered via a ladder through a trapdoor on the roof. They even buried selected ancestors underneath the house floor. Despite plenty of space out there on the Anatolian Plateau, people packed in closely.

For centuries, people at Çatalhöyük herded sheep and cattle, cultivated barley and made cheese. Evocative paintings of bulls, dancing figures and a volcanic eruption suggest their folk traditions. They kept their well-organized houses tidy, sweeping floors and maintaining storage bins near the kitchen, located under the trapdoor to allow oven smoke to escape. Keeping clean meant they even replastered their interior house walls several times a year.

These rich traditions ended by 6000 BCE, when Çatalhöyük was mysteriously abandoned. The population dispersed into smaller settlements out in the surrounding flood plain and beyond. Other large farming populations of the region had also dispersed, and nomadic livestock herding became more widespread. For those populations that persisted, the mud-brick houses were now separate, in contrast with the agglomerated houses of Çatalhöyük.

Was disease a factor in the abandonment of dense settlements by 6000 BCE?

At Çatalhöyük, archaeologists have found human bones intermingled with cattle bones in burials and refuse heaps. Crowding of people and animals likely bred zoonotic diseases at Çatalhöyük. Ancient DNA identifies tuberculosis from cattle in the region as far back as 8500 BCE and TB in human infant bones not long after. DNA in ancient human remains dates salmonella to as early as 4500 BCE. Assuming the contagiousness and virulence of Neolithic diseases increased through time, dense settlements such as Çatalhöyük may have reached a tipping point where the effects of disease outweighed the benefits of living closely together.

A new layout 2,000 years later

By about 4000 BCE, large urban populations had reappeared, at the mega-settlements of the ancient Trypillia culture, west of the Black Sea. Thousands of people lived at Trypillia mega-settlements such as Nebelivka and Maidanetske in what’s now Ukraine.

If disease was a factor in dispersal millennia before, how were these mega-settlements possible?

This time, the layout was different than at jam-packed Çatalhöyük: The hundreds of wooden, two-story houses were regularly spaced in concentric ovals. They were also clustered in pie-shaped neighborhoods, each with its own large assembly house. The pottery excavated in the neighborhood assembly houses has many different compositions, suggesting these pots were brought there by different families coming together to share food.

This layout suggests a theory. Whether the people of Nebelivka knew it or not, this lower-density, clustered layout could have helped prevent any disease outbreaks from consuming the entire settlement.

Archaeologist Simon Carrignon and I set out to test this possibility by adapting computer models from a previous epidemiology project that modeled how social-distancing behaviors affect the spread of pandemics. To study how a Trypillian settlement layout would disrupt disease spread, we teamed up with cultural evolution scholar Mike O’Brien and with the archaeologists of Nebelivka: John Chapman, Bisserka Gaydarska and Brian Buchanan.

Simulating socially distanced neighborhoods

To simulate disease spread at Nebelivka, we had to make a few assumptions. First, we assumed that early diseases were spread through foods, such as milk or meat. Second, we assumed people visited other houses within their neighborhood more often than those outside of it.

Would this neighborhood clustering be enough to suppress disease outbreaks? To test the effects of different possible rates of interaction, we ran millions of simulations, first on a network to represent clustered neighborhoods. We then ran the simulations again, this time on a virtual layout modeled after actual site plans, where houses in each neighborhood were given a higher chance of making contact with each other.

Based on our simulations, we found that if people visited other neighborhoods infrequently – like a fifth to a tenth as often as visiting other houses within their own neighborhood – then the clustering layout of houses at Nebelivka would have significantly reduced outbreaks of early foodborne diseases. This is reasonable given that each neighborhood had its own assembly house. Overall, the results show how the Trypillian layout could help early farmers live together in low-density urban populations, at a time when zoonotic diseases were increasing.

The residents of Nebilevka didn’t need to have consciously planned for their neighborhood layout to help their population survive. But they may well have, as human instinct is to avoid signs of contagious disease. Like at Çatalhöyük, residents kept their houses clean. And about two-thirds of the houses at Nebelivka were deliberately burned at different times. These intentional periodic burns may have been a pest extermination tactic.

New cities and innovations

Some of the early diseases eventually evolved to spread by means other than bad foods. Tuberculosis, for instance, became airborne at some point. When the bacterium that causes plague, Yersinia pestis, became adapted to fleas, it could be spread by rats, which would not care about neighborhood boundaries.

Were new disease vectors too much for these ancient cities? The mega-settlements of Trypillia were abandoned by 3000 BCE. As at Çatalhöyük thousands of years before, people dispersed into smaller settlements. Some geneticists speculate that Trypillia settlements were abandoned due to the origins of plague in the region, about 5,000 years ago.

The first cities in Mesopotamia developed around 3500 BCE, with others soon developing in Egypt, the Indus Valley and China. These cities of tens of thousands were filled with specialized craftspeople in distinct neighborhoods.

This time around, people in the city centers weren’t living cheek by jowl with cattle or sheep. Cities were the centers of regional trade. Food was imported into the city and stored in large grain silos like the one at the Hittite capital of Hattusa, which could hold enough cereal grain to feed 20,000 people for a year. Sanitation was helped by public water works, such as canals in Uruk or water wells and a large public bath at the Indus city of Mohenjo Daro.

These early cities, along with those in China, Africa and the Americas, were the foundations of civilization. Arguably, their form and function were shaped by millennia of diseases and human responses to them, all the way back to the world’s earliest farming villages.

R. Alexander Bentley, Professor of Anthropology, University of Tennessee

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

Aman Agrawal, University of Chicago Pritzker School of Molecular Engineering

Billions of years of evolution have made modern cells incredibly complex. Inside cells are small compartments called organelles that perform specific functions essential for the cell’s survival and operation. For instance, the nucleus stores genetic material, and mitochondria produce energy.

Another essential part of a cell is the membrane that encloses it. Proteins embedded on the surface of the membrane control the movement of substances in and out of the cell. This sophisticated membrane structure allowed for the complexity of life as we know it. But how did the earliest, simplest cells hold it all together before elaborate membrane structures evolved?

In our recently published research in the journal Science Advances, my colleagues from the University of Chicago and the University of Houston and I explored a fascinating possibility that rainwater played a crucial role in stabilizing early cells, paving the way for life’s complexity.

The origin of life

One of the most intriguing questions in science is how life began on Earth. Scientists have long wondered how nonliving matter like water, gases and mineral deposits transformed into living cells capable of replication, metabolism and evolution.

Chemists Stanley Miller and Harold Urey at the University of Chicago conducted an experiment in 1953 demonstrating that complex organic compounds – meaning carbon-based molecules – could be synthesized from simpler organic and inorganic ones. Using water, methane, ammonia, hydrogen gases and electric sparks, these chemists formed amino acids.

Scientists believe the earliest forms of life, called protocells, spontaneously emerged from organic molecules present on the early Earth. These primitive, cell-like structures were likely made of two fundamental components: a matrix material that provided a structural framework and a genetic material that carried instructions for protocells to function.

Over time, these protocells would have gradually evolved the ability to replicate and execute metabolic processes. Certain conditions are necessary for essential chemical reactions to occur, such as a steady energy source, organic compounds and water. The compartments formed by a matrix and a membrane crucially provide a stable environment that can concentrate reactants and protect them from the external environment, allowing the necessary chemical reactions to take place.

Thus, two crucial questions arise: What materials were the matrix and membrane of protocells made of? And how did they enable early cells to maintain the stability and function they needed to transform into the sophisticated cells that constitute all living organisms today?

Bubbles vs droplets

Scientists propose that two distinct models of protocells – vesicles and coacervates – may have played a pivotal role in the early stages of life.

Vesicles are tiny bubbles, like soap in water. They are made of fatty molecules called lipids that naturally form thin sheets. Vesicles form when these sheets curl into a sphere that can encapsulate chemicals and safeguard crucial reactions from harsh surroundings and potential degradation.

Like miniature pockets of life, vesicles resemble the structure and function of modern cells. However, unlike the membranes of modern cells, vesicle protocells would have lacked specialized proteins that selectively allow molecules in and out of a cell and enable communication between cells. Without these proteins, vesicle protocells would have limited ability to interact effectively with their surroundings, constraining their potential for life.

Coacervates, on the other hand, are droplets formed from an accumulation of organic molecules like peptides and nucleic acids. They form when organic molecules stick together due to chemical properties that attract them to each other, such as electrostatic forces between oppositely charged molecules. These are the same forces that cause balloons to stick to hair.

One can picture coacervates as droplets of cooking oil suspended in water. Similar to oil droplets, coacervate protocells lack a membrane. Without a membrane, surrounding water can easily exchange materials with protocells. This structural feature helps coacervates concentrate chemicals and speed up chemical reactions, creating a bustling environment for the building blocks of life.

Thus, the absence of a membrane appears to make coacervates a better protocell candidate than vesicles. However, lacking a membrane also presents a significant drawback: the potential for genetic material to leak out.

Unstable and leaky protocells

A few years after Dutch chemists discovered coacervate droplets in 1929, Russian biochemist Alexander Oparin proposed that coacervates were the earliest model of protocells. He argued that coacervate droplets provided a primitive form of compartmentalization crucial for early metabolic processes and self-replication.

Subsequently, scientists discovered that coacervates can sometimes be composed of oppositely charged polymers: long, chainlike molecules that resemble spaghetti at the molecular scale, carrying opposite electrical charges. When polymers of opposite electrical charges are mixed, they tend to attract each other and stick together to form droplets without a membrane.

The absence of a membrane presented a challenge: The droplets rapidly fuse with each other, akin to individual oil droplets in water joining into a large blob. Furthermore, the lack of a membrane allowed RNA – a type of genetic material thought to be the earliest form of self-replicating molecule, crucial for the early stages of life – to rapidly exchange between protocells.

My colleague Jack Szostak showed in 2017 that rapid fusion and exchange of materials can lead to uncontrolled mixing of RNA, making it difficult for stable and distinct genetic sequences to evolve. This limitation suggested that coacervates might not be able to maintain the compartmentalization necessary for early life.

Compartmentalization is a strict requirement for natural selection and evolution. If coacervate protocells fused incessantly, and their genes continuously mixed and exchanged with each other, all of them would resemble each other without any genetic variation. Without genetic variation, no single protocell would have a higher probability of survival, reproduction and passing on its genes to future generations.

But life today thrives with a variety of genetic material, suggesting that nature somehow solved this problem. Thus, a solution to this problem had to exist, possibly hiding in plain sight.

Rainwater and RNA

A study I conducted in 2022 demonstrated that coacervate droplets can be stabilized and avoid fusion if immersed in deionized water – water that is free of dissolved ions and minerals. The droplets eject small ions into the water, likely allowing oppositely charged polymers on the periphery to come closer to each other and form a meshy skin layer. This meshy “wall” effectively hinders the fusion of droplets.

Next, with my colleagues and collaborators, including Matthew Tirrell and Jack Szostak, I studied the exchange of genetic material between protocells. We placed two separate protocell populations, treated with deionized water, in test tubes. One of these populations contained RNA. When the two populations were mixed, RNA remained confined in their respective protocells for days. The meshy “walls” of the protocells impeded RNA from leaking.

In contrast, when we mixed protocells that weren’t treated with deionized water, RNA diffused from one protocell to the other within seconds.

Inspired by these results, my colleague Alamgir Karim wondered if rainwater, which is a natural source of ion-free water, could have done the same thing in the prebiotic world. With another colleague, Anusha Vonteddu, I found that rainwater indeed stabilizes protocells against fusion.

Rain, we believe, may have paved the way for the first cells.

Working across disciplines

Studying the origins of life addresses both scientific curiosity about the mechanisms that led to life on Earth and philosophical questions about our place in the universe and the nature of existence.

Currently, my research delves into the very beginning of gene replication in protocells. In the absence of the modern proteins that make copies of genes inside cells, the prebiotic world would have relied on simple chemical reactions between nucleotides – the building blocks of genetic material – to make copies of RNA. Understanding how nucleotides came together to form a long chain of RNA is a crucial step in deciphering prebiotic evolution.

To address the profound question of life’s origin, it is crucial to understand the geological, chemical and environmental conditions on early Earth approximately 3.8 billion years ago. Thus, uncovering the beginnings of life isn’t limited to biologists. Chemical engineers like me, and researchers from various scientific fields, are exploring this captivating existential question.

Aman Agrawal, Postdoctoral Scholar in Chemical Engineering, University of Chicago Pritzker School of Molecular Engineering

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.