OpenAI Atlas and the blurred line between search and synthesis

Posted on By Mark Wilson

OpenAI’s new Atlas browser has certainly got people talking.

Some are excited — calling it a “Google killer” and a glimpse of how we’ll all navigate the web in future. Others are alarmed — pointing to privacy concerns, data collection prompts, and the idea of handing over browsing history and passwords to an AI company.

Jason Grant described his experience as “a giant dark pattern.” Matthew Dunn was more balanced — impressed by the features, but quick to warn businesses off using it. He’s right: if you wouldn’t paste confidential data into ChatGPT, you probably shouldn’t browse the company intranet through Atlas either.

Search vs. synthesis

When people say Atlas will replace Google, they’re missing the point. It’s not search in the traditional sense.

A search engine indexes existing content and returns links that might answer your question. Atlas — and systems like it — go a step further. They synthesise an answer, combining what’s on the web with what’s in your conversation and what they’ve “seen” before.

As Data Science Dojo explains, search engines are designed to find information that already exists, while synthesis engines are designed to create new information.

Or, as Vincent Hunt neatly puts it: “Search gives you links. Synthesis gives you insight.”

That shift sounds subtle, but it changes everything: how we ask questions, how we evaluate truth, and how much we trust the output.

As I said in my recent talk on AI Transformation at the Bletchley AI User Group, “Generative AI is not a search engine. It doesn’t retrieve facts. It generates language based on probabilities.” Google doesn’t know the truth either — it just gives you the most common answer to your question — but AI goes a step further. It merges, rewrites and repackages information. That can be powerful, but it’s also risky. It’s why I believe the AI-generated results that many search engines now return as default are inferior to traditional results, based on actual information sources.

Without strong governance, AI may be repurposing outdated content or drawing on biased data. Transparency matters — because trust is the real currency of AI adoption.

Why Atlas matters

In OpenAI’s announcement, Atlas is described as “bringing ChatGPT anywhere across the web — helping you in the window right where you are.”

It’s not just a search bar. It can summarise pages, compare options, fill out forms, or even complete tasks within websites. That’s a very different paradigm — one where the browser becomes a workspace, and the assistant becomes a collaborator.

A step towards agentic AI?

So, is Atlas really agentic? In part, yes.

Agentic AI describes systems that can act rather than just answer. They plan, execute and adapt — working on your behalf, not just waiting for your next prompt.

OpenAI’s own notes mention an agent mode that can “help you book reservations or edit documents you’re working on,” as reported by The Verge.

Others, like Practical Ecommerce, describe Atlas as “a push into agentic browsing — where the browser is now an AI agent too.”

It’s not full autonomy yet — more like assisted agency — but it’s a clear step in that direction.

Why it still needs caution

As exciting as it sounds, Atlas isn’t designed for enterprise use. It raises valid concerns about data privacy, security, and trust. You wouldn’t give a work browser access to sensitive credentials, and the same logic applies here.

As Matthew Dunn notes, ChatGPT “produces better output than Copilot, but with less security and privacy.” That’s a fair trade-off for some users, but not for organisations handling confidential information.

So, by all means, explore it — but do so with your eyes open.

And yes, I’ll still give it a try I decided not to install it after all

For all the justified concerns about privacy and data handling, I’ll still give Atlas a try. Even though I have Copilot at work, I pay for ChatGPT Pro for activities that are not directly related to my confidential work.

Atlas might extend that usefulness into how I browse, not just how I prompt. The key, as ever, is knowing what data you’re sharing — and making that a conscious choice, not an accidental one.

[Updated 24/10/2025: After writing and publishing this post, I decided not to install Atlas. There are a lot of security concerns about the way the browser stores local data, which may easily be exploited. Nevertheless, both OpenAI Atlas and Perplexity Comet are interesting developments, and the narrative about the differences between an AI search (synthesis) and a traditional search is still valid.]

Featured image: created by ChatGPT.

Tonight’s talk at the Bletchley AI User Group, and a new AI Resources page

Posted on By Mark Wilson

Tonight, I’ll be giving a talk on AI Transformation at the Bletchley AI User Group.

Slides

I gave up on bit.ly QR codes/links to OneDrive* and hosted the slides on my own website. They are also embedded below:

20251021_Mark_Wilson_Bletchley_AI_UG_AI_Transformation

Alternatively, you can save my bandwidth by picking them up from my OneDrive instead!

Feedback

If you were at the talk, some feedback would be much appreciated, please. There’s a Microsoft Form for that!

Resources

I also reached a point where I was seeing more and more new AI content every day and I just… had… to… stop… adding… more… into… the… presentation. A few minutes vibe coding with ChatGPT gave me a static single page website with a search capability and a JSON-based data source. And ChatGPT even did the analysis, classification and tagging for me…

Anyway, my new AI Resources page is here and will be updated as and when I come across new artefacts.

*What was wrong with bit.ly?

Recent changes at bit.ly that mean they:

  • No longer support custom domain names on a free account (bye-bye mwil.it); and
  • Require a paid account to redirect short links after creation

The challenge I had was that I wanted to include a QR code for people to scan when I present the content, but that created a circular issue: I upload the slides, create a QR code, add the QR to the slides, upload the slides, the link changes… etc., etc.

(I wouldn’t mind paying for bit.ly, except that their plans are a bit expensive. This is a free website that creates a handful of short links each month and subscription fatigue is real…)

When software meets steel: agentic computing in the real world

Posted on By Mark Wilson

I flew to Dublin last week as part of the team representing Node4 at a Microsoft Sales and Partner summit. But the event itself is not really relevant here — what struck me was the amount of robot tech I interacted with on the trip.

At Heathrow Terminal 5, I took one of the self-driving pods that connect the business car park with the terminal. Inside, Mitie’s robot cleaning machines were gliding quietly between travellers. And in Dublin Airport, our restaurant meal was brought out by a robot waitress called Bella.

It was only later that I realised these weren’t isolated novelties. They’re part of a pattern: we’re used to talking about agentic computing in a software sense but it also presents itself through hardware in the physical world.

The journey begins: autonomous pods at Heathrow

The Heathrow pods have been around for over a decade, but they still feel futuristic. You call one on demand, climb in, and it glides directly to your stop. There’s no driver, no timetable, and almost no wait. The system uses far less energy than a bus or car, and the whole thing is orchestrated by software that dispatches pods, avoids collisions and monitors usage.

It’s a neat demonstration of automation in motion: you make a request, and a machine physically carries it out.

Quiet efficiency: Mitie’s cleaning “cobots”

Inside the terminal, Mitie’s autonomous cleaning robots were at work. These cobots use sensors and cameras to map the concourse, clean for hours, then return to charge before resuming their shifts. They handle repetitive tasks while human staff focus on the harder jobs.

You could easily miss them — and that’s the point. They’re designed to blend in. The building, in a sense, is starting to help maintain itself.

Meet Bella: the robot waitress

In Dublin, things got more personal. The restaurant’s “BellaBot” rolled over with trays of food, blinking her animated eyes and purring polite phrases. The QR code was hard to scan (black text on a brass plate lacks contrast) and the ordering app didn’t work so human staff had to step in — but the experience was still surreal.

Bella’s design deliberately humanises the machine, using expressions and voice to make diners comfortable. For me, it was a bit too much. The technology was interesting; the personality, less so. I prefer my service robots less anthropomorphised.

This tension — between automation and human comfort — is one of the trickiest design challenges of our time.

A pattern emerges

Taken together, the pods, cleaning cobots and BellaBot reveal different layers of the same trend:

  • Mobility agents like the Heathrow pods move people and goods.
  • Maintenance agents like Mitie’s cobots quietly maintain infrastructure.
  • Service agents like BellaBot interact directly with us.

Each one extends software intelligence into the physical world. We’re no longer just automating data; we’re automating action.

And none of them works completely alone. The pods are overseen by a control centre. The cobots have human supervisors. Bella needs a human backup when the tech fails. This is automation with a safety net — hybrid systems that rely on graceful human fallback.

From airports to high streets

You don’t have to go through Heathrow or Dublin to see the same shift happening.

Closer to home, in Milton Keynes and Northampton (as well as in other towns and cities across the UK and more widely), small white Starship robots deliver groceries and takeaway food along pavements. They trundle quietly across zebra crossings, avoiding pedestrians and pets, using cameras and sensors to navigate. A smartphone app summons them; another unlocks the lid when your order arrives.

Like the airport pods, they make autonomy feel normal. Children wave to them. People barely notice them anymore. The line between software, service and physical action is blurring fast.

The thin end of the wedge

These examples show how automation is creeping into daily life — not replacing humans outright, but augmenting us.

The challenge now isn’t capability; it’s reliability. Systems like Bella’s ordering app work brilliantly until they don’t. What matters most is how smoothly they fail and how easily humans can step back in.

For now, that balance still needs work. But it’s clear where things are heading. The real frontier of AI isn’t in chatbots or copilots — it’s in physical agents that move, clean, deliver and serve. It’s software made tangible.

And while Bella’s blinking eyes may have been a step too far for me, it’s hard not to admire the direction of travel. The future isn’t just digital. It’s autonomous, electric, slightly quirky – and already waiting for you in the car park.

Featured image: created by ChatGPT.

Delayed by the signs that are supposed to keep us moving

Posted on By Mark Wilson

After a late flight back into Heathrow last night, I just wanted to get home. It should have taken about an hour. Instead, it took almost two and a half — a slow-motion crawl through the Home Counties, lit by flashing amber lights, unclear diversions and matrix signs that seemed to know nothing about what was actually happening on the ground.

After I had negotiated the first closure on the M25 (J18-20), National Highways had used the variable signs to warn of closures on the A1 — miles away and irrelevant to traffic heading north and about to turn onto the M1. What they didn’t mention was the full closure of the M1 (J9-11) which was just a few junctions ahead (I joined at 6A and saw nothing until after the J7/8 exit). When I finally reached the cones and flashing arrows, it was too late to do anything but follow the long, meandering diversion through half of Bedfordshire.

The irony is that the technology is all there. We have live traffic feeds, sensors, cameras, and signs capable of displaying accurate, timely information. But it only works if the people behind the systems use it well. Otherwise, the signs are just expensive noise.

And once you start seeing inconsistent or irrelevant messages, you stop trusting them. We’ve all driven under a gantry showing a sudden 40 mph limit for no apparent reason. Or a “Fog” warning on a perfectly clear morning. (I was once told by a former highways engineer that’s often down to spiders nesting in the sensor housing — which makes sense, but doesn’t exactly inspire confidence.)

The result is predictable. When technology over-warns, people tune it out. It’s the same problem you see in many digital systems — from workplace dashboards to AI assistants. Data without context or accuracy doesn’t help anyone. Trust is built on relevance, timeliness and credibility. Without those, the message just becomes background noise.

I’m not against the tech — quite the opposite. These systems can make our roads safer and our journeys smoother. But they only do that when they’re properly configured, maintained and used by people who understand what the data means. Otherwise, we end up ignoring the very systems designed to help us — and taking the scenic route home when all we really want is our own bed.

Featured image: created by ChatGPT.

Transformation theatre: when digital isn’t enough

Posted on By Mark Wilson

I’m not a frequent flyer. Indeed, I avoid flying if there’s an alternative (like high speed rail) but I’ve had a British Airways account for years – probably over twenty. But, when I tried to log in ahead of today’s flight to Dublin, it seemed to have vanished. My PIN didn’t work, the password reset email never arrived, and WhatsApp customer support confirmed the bad news: my account had been closed.

No problem, I thought – just reopen it. Except I couldn’t. The advisor explained that although the account didn’t exist anymore, my email address was still in their system. To open a new account, I’d need to use a different email address.

I told them that I only have one address. Because, frankly, I shouldn’t need to create another just to fit around their IT quirks.

Eventually, the advisor said they’d request my email be deleted so I could open a new account “after a few days”.

In the meantime, I can still manage my booking using just my surname and booking reference – which always feels worryingly insecure. (Fun fact: behind almost every flight is the SABRE system that dates back to 1964).

When transformation is skin-deep

This is a classic example of where “digital transformation” falls short. The airline has done the visible stuff – shiny mobile apps, chatbots, WhatsApp support – but the underlying customer processes are unchanged.

I can interact through modern digital channels, but I’m still dealing with the same rigid, legacy back-end that can’t handle a simple scenario like reopening a dormant account. The transformation has been cosmetic, not structural.

It’s a reminder that customer experience isn’t about channels; it’s about outcomes. If a customer can’t achieve their goal, no amount of digital polish will make it a good experience.

Joined-up journeys, not disconnected systems

On theme that stood out at DTX London earlier this month was the importance of mapping and managing the customer journey – understanding what customers are trying to do, where friction exists, and how internal processes support (or hinder) that experience.

It’s not enough to build another interface. True digital transformation requires breaking down silos, re-thinking workflows, and aligning systems around real customer needs. If the back-end can’t flex, the front-end experience will always be compromised.

The lesson

In the end, I’m sure my problem will sort itself out – BA will eventually delete my old email record, and I’ll open a new account. But the irony is clear: digital transformation done badly just creates new frustrations through modern channels.

Transformation isn’t about adding apps and chatbots. It’s about re-engineering the processes that sit beneath them so customers don’t end up stuck in digital limbo.

Featured image: created by ChatGPT.

Interim, permanent, or fractional. What’s the difference?

Posted on By Mark Wilson

A few weeks ago, I found myself in a LinkedIn comment thread debating a word that’s popping up more often in 2025: fractional.

Someone had written, “Isn’t ‘fractional’ just a new word for ‘contractor’?”

That’s a fair question. But I don’t think the two are equivalent.

I replied that contractors are typically full-time additions brought in to handle a short-term increase in demand – a burst of resource to deliver a project or fill a gap. A fractional professional, on the other hand, is someone who works with a business part-time and on an ongoing basis, bringing specialist expertise without the cost of a permanent hire. It’s not just semantics — it’s about how organisations think about accessing capability.

Permanent roles

Permanent employment still makes sense when you need someone embedded in the organisation, driving long-term initiatives, and living the company’s culture day-to-day. They’re part of the team for the long haul — shaping strategy, developing people, and being measured on sustained outcomes.

But permanent roles come with commitments: salaries, benefits, career development, and (in some cases) inertia. In a fast-moving world, it’s not always the right model for every leadership or specialist need.

Interim roles

Then there are interim professionals — experienced hands who parachute in to steer the ship during a time of transition. They’re often brought in to stabilise a team, deliver change, or hold the fort while a permanent hire is found.

Interims tend to be full-time for the duration of an assignment. They bring authority, clarity, and pace, but their job is usually to deliver outcomes and then move on. They tend to be pragmatic, sleeves-rolled-up leaders who thrive in uncertainty.

(The WB-40 podcast recently did a great episode on this topic — it’s well worth a listen: Episode 334: Interim).

Fractional roles

And then there’s the rise of the fractional model — especially at C-suite level. A fractional CIO, CTO, or CMO might work one or two days a week with several organisations, providing ongoing strategic input, coaching internal teams, and ensuring continuity of expertise.

It’s ideal for growing businesses that need senior leadership but don’t yet need (or can’t justify) a full-time role. For the individual, it offers variety and flexibility. For the business, it’s a cost-effective way to access top-tier skills.

Not just semantics

So no, “fractional” isn’t just a trendy word for “contractor”. Each of these models — permanent, interim, and fractional — serves a different need. And yes, any of them could be engaged on a contract or freelance basis, but the intent and structure differ.

As I prepare to meet with and present to a group of fractional and interim CIOs and CTOs later this week, I’m reminded how work itself continues to evolve. The lines are blurring — but that also means there’s more choice than ever in how organisations access the skills they need, when they need them.

Featured image: created by ChatGPT.

A couple of Garmin Fenix tips and tricks

Posted on By Mark Wilson

I’ve had my Garmin Fenix 6 Pro smartwatch for a few years now. I left my Apple Watch for the Garmin and have never looked back. I find that it works far better for me, as a pure sports watch rather than trying to be everything.

Sure, Garmin Pay wasn’t supported in the UK (it may be now, I haven’t checked). But I always have my phone with me for Apple Pay. I’ve got the apps I need on the watch (like my Parkrun barcode) and the sports tracking is much better than Apple’s – both in accuracy and variety. I’m sure Apple has improved, but my Garmin has been bomb-proof for years. And the battery life is amazing – nearly two weeks, though I rarely let it go that long.

But, a couple of nights ago it decided not to track my sleep. That was odd, and then I noticed it wasn’t recording my heart rate either. So I rebooted the watch. It’s the first rule of IT support – have you tried turning it off and on again?

I don’t think I’ve ever had to do that in all the years I’ve owned it. Something like four years of uptime. Not bad!

One thing that does annoy me is the charge cable. It’s not a standard USB-C (or USB-anything). Instead, it uses a proprietary four-pin connector on one end, and USB-A on the other. Over time, the connector becomes loose and won’t stay attached to the watch.

The trick here is to gently give it a pinch with some needle-nosed pliers, halfway along the long sides. Close the metal back in and the connector holds firm again. Reliable charging resumes.

Do you have a Garmin smartwatch? Got any tips or tricks to share?

Featured image: created by ChatGPT.

The Chatham House Rule: there is only one!

Posted on By Mark Wilson

It’s quite common to hear the phrase “this event will be run under Chatham House Rules”. The meaning of the phrase is that what is said in the room should be not be attributed to anyone present.

Chatham House is an independent policy institute and a trusted forum for debate and dialogue.

But they only have one rule. This is how it’s described on their website:

“When a meeting, or part thereof, is held under the Chatham House Rule, participants are free to use the information received, but neither the identity nor the affiliation of the speaker(s), nor that of any other participant, may be revealed.”

I can be a bit of a pedant, and I couldn’t help myself pointing it out today. Yes, I really am that much fun to work with. I will try to do better in future…

TIL: About custom emojis in Microsoft Teams

Posted on By Mark Wilson

I was in a Teams meeting recently, where someone added a version of our company logo as a reaction to a message. I’d never seen that before, and I was intrigued.

A little Googling later, and the AI Overview gave me my answer:

“To create custom emoji teams in Microsoft Teams, you need to upload images or GIFs as custom emojis, which can then be used by all members of your organization. This involves selecting the “Emoji, GIFs and Stickers” option in the message box, navigating to “Your org’s emoji,” and then choosing “Add emoji” to upload your custom content.”

This is what it looks like (though the screen grab has removed my cursor!)

And then…

You can read more about managing custom emoji in Teams, in the Microsoft support article on Use Custom Emoji in Microsoft Teams.

Gap year benefits: why a gap year might be the best decision you ever make

Posted on By Mark Wilson

It’s that time of year again. In the UK, A-Level results arrive this week, GCSEs next. Traditional and social media will be full of articles about “what to do if you didn’t make the grade”.

I won’t be writing one of those.

Yes, I messed up my A-Levels. I scraped into my chosen polytechnic, graduated from university with honours, and built a reasonably successful career. But that was over 30 years ago. I’m also male and white, and that privilege has opened doors that might not have opened for others. My experience isn’t a template.

What I do want to write about is the magic of a gap year.

After 14 years of education, maybe you need a break before doing more. Maybe you want time before resits or reapplying to different universities. Maybe university isn’t for you at all. Or maybe you just want to live a bit before deciding what’s next.

Gap years are amazing.

Challenging the “gap year = unemployed” mindset

Some people will tell you a gap year is “just another name for being unemployed”. I think they’re wrong.

A gap year can be a year of growth, challenge, adventure, and learning about yourself in ways that a classroom can’t teach.

Two gap years, two very different stories

As a parent to two adult children, I’ve seen this first-hand.

My eldest son, now 20, took not one but two gap years.

The first followed his passion for cycling. He worked as a holiday rep leading cycling tours, returned to the UK to work in a warehouse, and tested whether he could make it as a professional cyclist. The racing results don’t matter — he’s great, but greatness isn’t the same as being exceptional. What mattered was what he learned along the way:

  • How to train 16 hours a week alongside a full-time job.
  • How to plan every meal and every drink to fuel performance.
  • How to deal with disappointment when a promised training arrangement fell through.
  • How to adapt in a foreign country, find a house share with a professional cyclist (thanks Sophie), and live his best life until returning to race in the UK.

His second gap year was more “traditional” — travel to a variety of European destinations, a few weeks volunteering for a charity in India, more warehouse work (he needed to fund it all), and more racing but this time without the professional ambitions.

There were challenges too. An internship had led to the promise of a job, but that never materialised. Undeterred, he followed up and found a new opportunity with the same firm — only for that to go quiet as well, this time because of an administrative error that meant no contract was ever issued. By then he was applying elsewhere. And it was the self-confidence built over two gap years, outside formal education, and without relying solely on his parents for guidance and support, that made him shine as a candidate in his assessment centre for the role. That confidence also helped him be certain the degree apprenticeship was the right route for him — so much so that he let go of his deferred place at The University of Sheffield.

Looking ahead

My youngest son is 18. He’ll get his A-Level results on Thursday and we have fingers (and toes) crossed that he gets the grades for his place at Exeter University. But before that, there are travel dreams to chase — which will also be funded by casual work.

Oktoberfest is already in the calendar (inspired by our Interrailing trip together last year). Applications are in for a ski season. There are plans for a few months in South East Asia. He’s seen his brother’s adventures and has role models in his parents and maternal uncle, who all travelled extensively before him.

When I first travelled, I had no idea what I was doing — I was the first in my family to go to university, the first to go Interrailing, and the first to fly around the world (that wasn’t on a gap year — I took time out after a few years in the workplace — and, by then, my career direction was set and it would have been very difficult to change).

The takeaway

Of course, not everyone will have the opportunities that my sons have. I wrote of my privilege, and my sons benefit from this too — perhaps even more so. They have both had part-time jobs alongside their school work, played sports, and taken part in many other extra-curricular activities that expanded their horizons. And my wife and I will continue to do everything we can to support them, just as we always have.

But here’s my message: think about a gap year.

It might not be for you — and that’s fine. It might be harder to make it a reality — but I urge you to consider it, if you can possibly find a way, because it might open your eyes to a world of opportunity. At the very least, it could give you the kind of stories, skills, and confidence that make you stand out from the crowd, spark curiosity in future employers, and set you on a path you might never have found otherwise.

And that’s why a “gap year” is certainly not a euphemism for being unemployed whilst living with your parents.

Featured image: created by ChatGPT