Most VPN apps protect only the device they’re installed on, leaving smart TVs, game consoles, and security cameras completely unshielded. 

ExpressVPN’s solution has long been network-level encryption via its dedicated routers, but its latest release shifts gears entirely. The newly announced Fortify router replaces the aging Aircove lineup with a substantial hardware upgrade.

So what exactly changed with Fortify?

Built in partnership with GL.iNet on its Flint 2 platform, Fortify swaps Aircove’s dated Wi-Fi 5-era hardware for Wi-Fi 6 AX6000 with 4×4 MU-MIMO. That also brings a generational jump in overall VPN throughput.  

WireGuard speeds now reach up to 900Mbps, nearly triple Aircove’s 330Mbps ceiling. A quad-core processor and genuine Multi-Gig ports back the speedy, protected connection and keep up with modern fiber connections. The new router has six ports total: two 2.5 Gbps Multi-Gigabit Ethernet ports and four 1 Gbps Gigabit LAN ports. 

Whether it’s a multi-device smart home setup, a remote working setup, a small business that’s operating out of a house and its garage, or a multi-cabin office setup that spans across the floor, the Fortify router can not only handle multiple devices at once, but also keep the entire network safe and encrypted. 

What happens to Aircove?

Aircove and Aircove Go are both being pulled from sale. However, existing owners will still get security updates through 2027 and 2028, respectively. To help with the upgrade, the company is also offering a 20% discount toward Fortify. 

Every Fortify purchase also bundles a full year of ExpressVPN’s Advanced plan (around $120 in value), plus a password manager, email privacy tool, and a few days of travel eSIM data. Fortify launches September 16th at $199.99, first through GL.iNet’s own site. Amazon availability will follow shortly after.

The real story is partnering with GL.iNet rather than building hardware in-house. It lets ExpressVPN focus on the VPN and privacy software it’s known for, while outsourcing router engineering to a company with a proven platform in the Flint 2.

South Korean memory chip giant SK Hynix is in discussions with Intel to manufacture RAM chips in the U.S. for the first time, Reuters reported, citing anonymous sources.

The companies have reportedly discussed various options, one of which would have SK Hynix leasing space at Intel’s planned factory in Ohio to manufacture the chips. The chipmakers are also said to be considering a joint venture that could include cloud-service providers.

SK told TechCrunch on Wednesday that nothing has been finalized yet. “SK Hynix is exploring various options to strengthen its global competitiveness, but no specific plans or arrangements have been finalized at this time,” the Korean semiconductor company said in a statement. “No decisions have been made regarding the two scenarios mentioned in the article.”

The Korean chip giant, which has benefited massively from skyrocketing demand for high-bandwidth memory RAM chips used in data centers for AI applications, is already building a $3.8 billion advanced packaging and research facility for AI chips in West Lafayette, Indiana, with mass production expected to begin in 2029. The factory will use DRAM wafers made in South Korea and package them into HBM chips.

It remains unclear what types of memory chips the company would produce in Ohio if the deal goes through.

As a global chip shortage worsens, the Trump administration is seeking to expand production on American soil. The White House said in January that it could impose broader tariffs on semiconductor imports while offering tariff relief to companies investing in domestic manufacturing.

SK Group Chairman Chey Tae-won signaled support for U.S. chip production in July, saying the company should build factories in the U.S., if feasible, alongside those in South Korea’s Honam region. That month, the chipmaker listed its American depository receipts on the Nasdaq, broadening its access to American investors.

The potential deal with Intel could face scrutiny at home. Seoul holds that the decision would be up to SK Hynix, but any plan involving strategically important chip technology could trigger a government review under a law designed to prevent sensitive technology from being transferred overseas, according to Reuters.

Intel and SK Hynix have done business before: In 2020, Intel sold its NAND flash-memory business to SK Hynix for $9 billion.

Intel did not immediately respond to TechCrunch’s request for comment outside regular business hours.

In Huntsville, Alabama, home to one of the nation’s largest cybersecurity hubs, educators and industry professionals are rethinking what cybersecurity education can look like. 

Rather than separating classroom instruction from workplace experience, they are co-designing learning environments where students build cyber ranges, develop industry-informed capstone projects and secure internships that connect learning directly to future careers.

At the Madison County Schools Career Technical Center, cybersecurity instructor Kala Jo Grice-Dobbins is showing what that looks like in practice. Working alongside industry professionals, she is creating a classroom where students learn not only technical skills, but also how cybersecurity professionals think, collaborate and solve problems.

Expanding What is Possible in the Classroom

The Alabama Technology Education and Career Pathways Accelerator, created by the STEM Foundation with district pathway implementation support from Digital Promise, helps districts ensure technology pathways lead to an industry credential of value by connecting educators with industry partners, work-based learning opportunities and resources aligned with workforce needs. For Grice-Dobbins, participating in the Accelerator became an opportunity to deepen those partnerships and rethink how students experience cybersecurity in the classroom.

Working alongside industry mentors, Grice-Dobbins built a classroom that looks and feels more like the environments students will encounter after graduation. Students work in a private cyber range across Windows and Linux environments, troubleshoot unfamiliar problems and prepare for senior capstone projects modeled after real cybersecurity work.

“Cybersecurity isn’t about memorizing answers,” Grice-Dobbins explained. “It’s about learning how to think through problems.”

Beyond the school year, Grice-Dobbins collaborates with industry partners and students to continue improving the program based on industry needs and learner goals.

During her four years teaching cybersecurity in Madison County, Grice-Dobbins’ students have secured internships with regional defense contractors and accepted positions that require security clearances. Eight students have completed internships through the program, creating a growing network of alums whose success after graduation is showing younger students what is possible.

Industry Brings the Workplace Into the Classroom

For industry professionals, this collaboration is an opportunity to share expertise, shape authentic learning experiences and mentor students at a deeper level.

David Hoover, a customer success manager at Canvas and an active member of Cyber Huntsville, helped design a government-style restricted network that gives students experience working in environments similar to those used by public-sector employers. He also advises senior capstone projects, helping students experience how cybersecurity teams solve problems, collaborate and communicate in professional settings.

Dr. Ian Clark, a technology leader at Science Applications International Corporation and cybersecurity mentor, has seen the long-term value of these collaborations throughout his career. Dr. Clark believes a simple shift has fundamentally changed how students learn: “There is no workbook.”

Rather than visiting the classroom for a single presentation, Hoover and Dr. Clark are involved throughout the learning process. They help shape projects, advise students as they work through challenges and provide feedback informed by current industry practice. 

That sustained engagement gives students access to technical expertise and to professional expectations, communication styles and problem-solving approaches that are difficult to replicate through curriculum alone.

Seeing a Future in Cybersecurity

Jaxton first discovered cybersecurity during a freshman visit to the Madison County Career Technical Center. His father had sparked his interest in computers, and he immediately knew he wanted to join the program.

Over the next three years, that curiosity became a career path. Through industry-recognized certifications, increasingly complex projects and his senior capstone, Jaxton developed the technical skills and confidence to pursue cybersecurity after graduation. Along the way, he learned to think critically, leverage emerging technology to create solutions and work alongside industry mentors.

Experiences like internships, capstone projects and mentorship do more than build technical skills. They help students begin to imagine themselves as part of the profession. Rather than viewing cybersecurity as an abstract career, students understand where they fit, what they contribute and what opportunities are available after graduation.

Today, Jaxton plans to continue studying cybersecurity after graduation. More importantly, he no longer sees the field as something other people do. He sees himself in it.

Looking Ahead

The work taking shape through Alabama’s Technology Education and Career Pathways Accelerator demonstrates what’s possible when educators and industry professionals co-design learning together. As classrooms evolve alongside one of the nation’s fastest-changing industries, students gain more than technical knowledge. They gain confidence, professional connections and a clearer vision of where they belong.

For school systems looking to strengthen career-connected learning, the lesson extends beyond cybersecurity. When educators, employers and students collaborate to shape authentic learning experiences, classrooms become places where young people go beyond preparing for future careers and begin participating in the work those careers involve.

In context: Remember the recent bizarre case of a man charged with three felonies for destroying a Flock surveillance camera, despite it being a fake decoy? It seems Florida police have had an attack of common sense and reduced the charges to misdemeanors.

It was reported in late August that Evan Meyer, 24, was being charged with counts of criminal mischief causing more than $1,000 in damage, grand theft involving property valued between $750 and $5,000, and damaging or taking a computer, electronic device, or related equipment. All felonies.

Meyer believed he was destroying a Flock camera, a crime that has become increasingly common as anger toward the company intensifies. But in reality, he was destroying a 3D-printed decoy.

To say those charges seemed excessive is an understatement. For a start, a real Flock camera costs only around $800, not including installation fees, so a 3D-printed shell is obviously going to be valued much lower.

However, 404Media reports that Meyer’s charges were drastically reduced in a filing by an assistant state attorney this week. The felonies have been reduced to two second-degree misdemeanor charges.

The filing reveals that the damage to the camera, which he allegedly inflicted with garden shears after knocking it off a pole, came to $200 or less. He has also been charged with petty theft involving property worth less than $750.

The sting operation was prompted by several of Oviedo’s cameras disappearing. The police department’s solution was to 3D-print the shells, attach them to poles around the city, and then get officers to monitor the poles for multiple nights.

Lessening the severity of the charges isn’t too surprising when even the mayor, who was unaware of the decoy operation before the arrest, admitted that they were controversial.

There’s little doubt that most people have supported Meyer, as Flock has been behind a slew of negative headlines this year.

Those reports have included officers allegedly using Flock cameras to stalk former partners, police justifying database searches with entries such as “LMAO” and “idk”, and the company reinstalling cameras without permission after a California city canceled its contract and removed them.

With cities dropping Flock at a record pace, its reputation has become so toxic that police have even asked rival Axon to redesign its cameras so people stop mistaking them for Flock’s. And let’s not forget that it’s not just license plate readers that are the problem: camera-equipped police drones are the company’s fastest-growing business.

iOS 27 is now available to install on iPhone 11 and newer, and includes plenty of new features. One that’s particularly caught our eye is found within Safari.

With iOS 27, you can now receive notifications whenever a specific webpage changes within the Safari app. That means you can be notified if a product you’ve had your eye on for ages finally comes back in stock, or if an artist updates touring dates on their website. 

It’s easy to set up and could save you from missing out. Follow our steps below to learn how to get notified when a website changes in iOS 27.

Want more about iOS 27? We’ve rounded up 14 tips and tricks of the new update, and explained how to adjust the transparency of Liquid Glass too. Or, if your phone won’t support the update, visit our round-up of the best iPhones to find your next purchase.

Over the past two years, I’ve spent countless hours talking with teachers, parents, students and school leaders about artificial intelligence. The questions they have are remarkably consistent: How should schools respond? When should students use AI? How do we preserve authentic learning in a world where answers have become nearly instantaneous?

They’re important questions, but I’ve noticed something interesting about them. Our conversations rarely stay focused on the technology itself. Before long, they drift somewhere deeper. They become conversations about thinking. About curiosity. About judgment. About what learning is actually for when a machine can generate an essay, solve a problem, or summarize a chapter in seconds.

Oddly enough, the most helpful answers I’ve found didn’t come from AI research. They came from Rwanda and Yellowstone National Park.

For years, those sites occupied completely different parts of my life. One was a trip that changed me. The other was an ecological story I couldn’t stop thinking about. It took me much longer to realize they were helping me answer the very questions I was now asking about artificial intelligence in schools. 

That realization began on a dusty road, on an otherwise ordinary day in Rwanda.

I went to Rwanda as part of a group helping schools transition from French to English in the classroom. That day, I happened to be carrying a yellow jerrycan of water from the watering hole back to the village alongside people who make that miles-long journey every day. Before long, my hands ached and my shoulders tightened. The hard plastic handle dug into my fingers as I wondered how much further we had to walk. The people beside me never seemed to notice the weight. For me, carrying water was extraordinary. For them, it was simply another walk home.

That contrast stayed with me long after I returned home. The walk answered very little. Instead, it left me with a question that has followed me ever since: How do we help students understand realities they have never lived?

That question would resurface years later in a sixth-grade classroom. Our teaching team designed an interdisciplinary unit around the novel “A Long Walk to Water,” hoping literature, conversations with a friend of mine from Sudan, and local field experiences would help students move beyond learning about water insecurity and begin to care about the people living it.

By most measures, the lesson was a success. Then we sat down to debrief.

“I don’t think it worked,” one teacher said.

Almost immediately, heads began nodding around the table.

“I was thinking the same thing.”

“Me too.”

No one defended the lesson. No one blamed the students. Instead, we realized we had been measuring engagement when what we really cared about was understanding.

Looking back, I think that meeting changed our teaching far more than the lesson itself. Years of working together had built enough trust for one honest observation to give everyone else permission to be honest too. We stopped trying to protect the lesson and started asking a different question.

Not, How do we make this activity better? But, How does understanding actually grow?

We’ve been refining that project ever since, and that conversation forced us to confront a much larger question: If meaningful change doesn’t happen because of a single lesson, how does it happen?

To understand how meaningful change happens, consider what happened in Yellowstone National Park.

When scientists reintroduced gray wolves to Yellowstone National Park in 1995, they expected the elk population to change. They didn’t expect rivers to change as well. As elk altered where they grazed, willow and aspen trees recovered. Beavers returned. Wetlands expanded. Vegetation stabilized riverbanks. An entire ecosystem began reorganizing itself in ways few people had anticipated.

The wolves didn’t directly reshape Yellowstone. They changed the relationships within the ecosystem. And everything else followed.

Learning about Yellowstone changed the way I thought about change itself. It made me realize that the most meaningful transformations rarely begin by fixing one thing. They begin by changing the relationships within a system. Once I saw that pattern, I couldn’t stop seeing it in schools.

We often assume meaningful change happens by improving the thing right in front of us. We redesign a lesson. We adopt a new curriculum. We write a new AI policy. We expect better outcomes because we’ve improved one part of the system.

The wolves didn’t change the rivers directly. They changed how elk moved through the landscape. That altered where trees could grow, which brought back beavers, reshaped wetlands, stabilized riverbanks, and eventually changed the rivers themselves. One dramatic intervention didn’t drive the transformation. It emerged because relationships within the ecosystem had changed.

I’m beginning to think schools work the same way.

Looking back, our sixth-grade project didn’t improve because we discovered a better activity. It improved because the relationships around the project changed. Teachers trusted one another enough to challenge assumptions. Students were invited to wrestle with ideas instead of simply completing assignments. Learning became less about delivering an experience and more about cultivating understanding.

Once I began seeing schools that way, I couldn’t think about artificial intelligence in quite the same way anymore.

AI isn’t simply introducing another tool into classrooms. It’s changing relationships: The relationship between students and thinking. Between effort and accomplishment. Between teachers and expertise. Between knowing something and finding it instantly.

Those may prove to be the relationships that shape the future of learning far more than any particular AI model or school policy.

That’s why my conversations about AI are almost never about the technology itself. They’re about what we choose to value.

Parents wonder whether students will gradually stop wrestling with difficult ideas if a chatbot can do the work for them. Teachers ask how to preserve productive struggle when every answer is just a prompt away. School leaders wrestle with an even deeper question: If AI can do more of the thinking, what kinds of thinking should remain unmistakably human?

I don’t think there’s a simple answer. What I do know is that answering those questions has required me to revisit experiences that had nothing to do with artificial intelligence — at least not at first.

I keep finding myself returning to that dusty road in Rwanda.

Carrying a jerrycan didn’t help me understand what it means to live with water insecurity. It wasn’t meant to. What it changed was my relationship to the people carrying it beside me. 

Our sixth-grade project taught me something similar. We eventually realized our goal wasn’t to create a memorable activity. It was to create the conditions where students might begin asking deeper questions about lives very different from their own.

Increasingly, I think AI presents schools with that same choice. We can use it to remove every obstacle from learning, making every task faster and easier. Or we can become even more intentional about preserving the kinds of thinking that develop judgment, curiosity, empathy and discernment.

Looking back, I don’t think Rwanda, Yellowstone, and AI were ever separate stories.

Rwanda changed my relationship to people whose lives I couldn’t fully understand. Our faculty meeting changed the relationships among teachers. AI is changing the relationship students have with thinking itself.

Rwanda taught me that understanding begins with humility. Our sixth-grade team taught me that meaningful change begins with the courage to question our own assumptions. And Yellowstone taught me that lasting change happens by changing relationships within a system.

Technology will continue to change. Our responsibility as educators won’t.

We still have to create experiences that ask students to think, question, struggle, and understand in ways no technology can do for them. Those were the questions before AI. I suspect they’ll still be the questions long after today’s technology has been replaced by something none of us can yet imagine.