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Because of the fast pace of social life, a good sleep is sometimes beyond our reach. Maybe you didn't get enough sleep last night, but chances are you're still doing better than the (type) northern elephant seal. Scientists (discover) the massive creatures are often getting less shut-eye than most others in the animal kingdom recently.

For months at a time, they go on long voyages they migrate thousands of miles off the Pacific coast and back again as they hunt for food. While out at sea, they're (continuous) diving more than 3,000 feet underwater. "So there's a bit of a puzzle," explains McKnight. " you're diving all the time, and spending 90% of your time at sea underwater without access air, when do you sleep?"

study published on Thursday in the journal Science now offers an answer: Northern elephant seals rely on short power naps during those deep (dive), which altogether add up to about two hours of sleep per day, says Jessica Kendall-Bar, the study's lead author and an eco-physiologist at Scripps Institution of Oceanography. "And they do that while (hold) their breath very deep below the ocean surface," she says.

The new findings mean that northern elephant seals now beat African elephants who currently hold the world record for the (short) daily sleep time among mammals.

She had asked the government for5 to move the books to a safe place, but they refused. So Alia took matters into her own hands6 . She brought books home every night,7 her car late after work. Her friends came to help her when the war broke out. Anis who owned a restaurant8 to hide some books. All through the nights, Alia, Anis, his brothers and neighbors took the books from the library,9 them over the seven-foot wall and hid them in the restaurant. The books stayed hidden as the war10 . Then nine days later, a fire burned the11 to the ground.

One day, the bombing stopped and the12 left. But the war was not over yet. Alia knew that if the books were to be13 , they must be moved again while the city was14 . So she hired a truck to bring all the books to the houses of friends in the suburbs. Now Alia waited for the war to end and15 peace and a new library.

The researchers brought 28 horses into a room one by one, each wearing heart rate monitors as their actions were recorded. The horse faced two screens playing two different videos: one showed a happy person and the other a sad person. A voice was played at the same time, sounding happy or sad.

When the picture and voice didn't match—for example, if the voice was sad but the picture showed a happy person—the horse seemed puzzled and looked for a longer time, compared to the one that did match, as if it knew something didn't make sense. "You could imagine that they have a particular box in their mind labeled ‘human sadness' containing the characteristics of both a sad face and a sad voice, and that when we are sad, they expect what we say to match how we look," said Doctoral Researcher Océane Liehrmann of the University of Turku, in Finland.

The researchers also saw that horses were more attentive to the screen displaying the happy face. They looked at it more often and for a longer time and their heart rates increased when they heard a happy voice and decreased when they heard a sad voice as well.

It is possible that the horses might have associated happy human expressions with positive memories from their past. Another theory is that seeing a happy person could actually make a horse feel happier—a process known as emotional contagion. "We don't know whether horses themselves understand what it is to be sad. It is possible that they learn it means something for a human," said Liehrmann.

LinkedIn researchers recently looked at which skills any given job requires and then identified over 500 likely to be affected by generative A.I. technologies. They then estimated that 96 percent of a software engineer's current skills — mainly in programming languages — can eventually be possessed by A.I. Skills associated with jobs like legal associates and finance officers will also be highly exposed. In fact, given the broad impact A.I. is set to have, it is quite likely to affect all of our work to some degree or another.

Circling around this research is the big question emerging across so many conversations about A.I. and work, namely: What are our core capabilities as humans?

If we answer this question from a place of fear about what's left for people in the age of A.I., we can end up admitting a diminished view of human capability. Instead, it's critical for us all to start from a place that imagines what's possible for humans in the age of A.I. When we do that, we find ourselves focusing quickly on people skills that allow us to cooperate and innovate in ways technology can intensify but never replace.

A recent Jobs for the Future survey found that 78 percent of the 10 top-employing occupations classified uniquely human skills and tasks as "important" or "very important." These, commonly referred to as soft skills, include building interpersonal relationships, negotiating between parties and guiding and motivating teams.

Now is the time for leaders, across departments, to develop new ways for students to learn that are more directly tied to where our economy is going, not where it has been. Critically, that involves bringing the same level of preciseness to training around people skills that we have brought to technical skills.

Ultimately, for our society, this comes down to whether we believe in the potential of humans with as much belief as we believe in the potential of A.I. If we do, it is entirely possible to build a world of work that not only is more human but also is a place where all people are valued for the unique skills we have, enabling us to deliver new levels of human achievement across so many areas that affect all of our lives.

About a month after his death, my husband and I hiked Carter Dome and Mount Hight, sorrow weighing heavy in our hearts and legs. Standing on the peak, I looked out across the mountains my son loved. For a moment, the heavy blow brought about by Ben's death faded into the timeless expanse, and I could breathe.

The next weekend found us on Mount Moosilauke. Then Mount Cannon, Mount Flume, Mount Liberty and so on. It was a series of firsts, of struggles and overcoming them — climbing at night, climbing slides and rocks, camping alone, finding paths and planning routes.

Six days before the anniversary of Ben's death, I hiked my 48^th and final peak: Mount Carrigain. As I stood on the observation platform at the peak, I found the essential truth I had been grasping to express for months: The only place that feels vast enough to hold sorrow this deep and wide is the top of a mountain, looking out into forever.

These days, I hike not to hide, but to seek. I find Ben, but I also find myself: someone broken, now braver and more capable. The forced isolation of sorrow becomes the welcome loneliness of the path; the peace of nature replaces the pain of loss. Hiking is both exhausting and exciting, and it teaches us that sorrow and joy can coexist.

But there's another, possibly more important truth: A hike is not the only way to find the peace of the natural world; a simple walk along a park path can have a similar effect. The internal journey of sorrow mixes with our steps, and we find comfort along the way.