As artificial intelligence reshapes the global technology landscape, Japan is looking beyond the current AI boom, investing in research capacity and technologies that could define the next wave of innovation.
I have started to suspect that many people have never had an original idea in their lives, after noticing a curious and rather peculiar phenomenon of the modern age.
Chatbots and AI-powered call centers have left many customers frustrated because they lack the judgment and empathy of human operators, according to VnExpress readers.
At every metro station in Ho Chi Minh City, signs in both Vietnamese and English remind passengers that durian and jackfruit are not allowed on trains.
Farmers often look to the sky. They watch the clouds to look for rain, the sun to decide when to sow seeds, and the river tides to know the right time to plant rice.
For university graduates, finding rejection letters in their inboxes is commonplace. Every single letter has the same structure, polite, but apathetic.
Many university graduates with honors spend months searching for work, while logistics companies are offering container truck drivers monthly salaries of VND30-50 million (US$1,140-1,900) and still struggling to fill vacancies.
The Fields Medal, mathematics' most prestigious award, embodies the belief that an individual intellect—through extraordinary focus—can venture into uncharted territory and bring back a fragment of truth. But this belief is wavering.
As a member of the 8X generation, older millennials born in the 1980s, I think we entered the job market at the right time, when numerous opportunities emerged and new professions were created.
When I told a Western colleague I was saving to buy homes for my two sons to inherit, his surprise made me question how differently cultures view parental responsibility and inheritance.
The greatest strength of a 50-year-old worker is not outperforming AI in memory or outpacing younger colleagues in speed. It is the ability to see problems from multiple perspectives.
A close friend traveled with us from the U.K. to Vietnam for a holiday last month. In just a few days in Ho Chi Minh City, he had spent more than £5,000 (US$6,670).
By the time I reached 12th grade, a stage when many students elsewhere were already learning English through modern methods, I was still studying the first pages of the textbook: "Hello, how are you?" I had almost no opportunity to practice listening or speaking.
There is a question that may seem distant but will arrive sooner than many anticipate: how will I sustain myself during the final two decades of my life, when my health has declined and my ability to work is no longer what it used to be?
At an international conference on legislative affairs, one speaker described a growing problem: Lawmakers face complex issues they do not fully understand, and so rely on experts.
I still remember Hanoi in the 1980s and 1990s. Days would be hot, but at night breeze from the lakes and rivers drifted through the open corridors between old apartment blocks.
A proposal to give employees the right to disconnect from work-related communications outside office hours has prompted mixed reactions from readers, with some arguing that after-hours messages are a normal part of modern work, while others say constant connectivity is blurring the line between work and personal life.
A delivery rider works 14 hours a day to meet algorithm-driven targets. A factory worker quietly endures relentless pressure and harassment. A middle-aged manager pushes away thoughts of suicide resulting from stress.
Many families assume that strong English skills and a solid GPA mean a student is ready to study abroad. In practice, those are only entry requirements, not guarantees of success.
"My friend studying for a PhD in France gave feedback on management software developed by our domestic team, but it was all things we had discussed 3-5 years ago."
After more than 15 years advising Vietnamese families on studying abroad, I've come to think the most honest question isn't whether to send a child overseas. It's whether you're preparing them to come back, or to stay.
Despite holding a degree from a U.K. university, I returned to Vietnam to a starting salary of just VND11 million (US$430) a month, a reality far removed from the expectations my family and I once had.
It took me nearly three years after returning home from studying abroad to find a stable job, and my salary was even lower than that of some classmates who had studied in Vietnam.
People often talk about time, discipline, and motivation when it comes to exercise. But in Vietnam, I have noticed something more basic: Playing sports seriously is not cheap.
I recently approved the renewal of my team's AI tokens to support coding and product design. For a small company like ours, AI has become hard to do without.
Ho Chi Minh City recently rewarded VND3 to 5 million (US$114 to $190) to women who have two children before age 35. I mentioned it to my daughter-in-law, hoping it might encourage her. She replied, "That money is symbolic. It is not enough for us to have another child."
A friend of mine has a child in the first year of university studying English linguistics and literature. The student wants to take courses in data and AI out of fear of falling behind in the job market, and my friend's wife wonders if her child should study another subject.
One of the things I find most fascinating since moving to live and work in Hanoi is that many things here are often measured against a rather famous dish: pho
At 18, I failed my university entrance exams. By 20, I was working as a car washer in Vung Tau, asking myself a question that would shape the years ahead: “Will I live my whole life like this?”
More than 10 years ago I moved to the U.S. for work and settled in a small town of around 30,000 people in the northwest. What surprised me most was not the shopping center or the entertainment options, but the prominent building near the town center: the public library.
After winning a gold medal at the 2026 Winter Olympics in Italy, figure skating star Alysa Liu shared that she was upset to learn her father Arthur Liu was happy about her return to competition.
Four months after leaving my corporate job in pursuit of a less stressful life, I find myself unexpectedly struggling with a sense of emptiness and uncertainty.
My family recently took a trip through central Vietnam, visiting major cities. We took along a list of famous eateries suggested by friends, and most of their reviews included the comment: "This place is dirty but delicious."
When a TikTok video about "Dali slope" went viral in early 2025, thousands of people flocked to Vietnamese cities Quy Nhon, Vung Tau and Da Lat looking for similar spots.
Cold cuts, sausage, pâté, raw vegetables, pickles, and sauces are all ingredients that should ideally be stored separately. Yet in many banh mi street stalls, they are layered together and kept at room temperature for hours.
Many young candidates walk into interview rooms looking so timid, hunching their shoulders and lowering their voices, especially when asking about pay.
