What does the future hold for the Astrodome? Courtesy photo

The Astrodome may have once been touted as the Eighth Wonder of the World, but its current condition remains one of Houston's most famous follies. In an effort to find a better use for the iconic building, The Astrodome Conservancy has released a Request for Information (RFI), inviting proposals from interested parties on how the historic landmark might be used in the future. Respondents have until September 8 to submit their responses at the official conservancy site.

“This RFI is an opportunity for the market to help shape a shared vision for the Astrodome,” said Beth Wiedower Jackson, executive director of the Astrodome Conservancy, in a release. “We are looking to gather creative, feasible, and financially viable ideas that reflect both the significance of the Astrodome and its potential as a catalyst for future development.”

When the Astrodome opened in 1965, it was a marvel of engineering and the world's first air-conditioned, multi-purpose domed sports stadium. It remained an iconic part of Houston until changing trends in sports sent the Astros and the Houston Livestock Show and Rodeo to newer stadiums with modern amenities. After the 2003 rodeo, the dome was closed, except for a brief use as an evacuation shelter for Hurricane Katrina.

A decades-long fight over what to do with the Astrodome followed that closure. The City of Houston condemned the building for various code violations in 2009. Fully renovating it would cost over $700 million — a tall order for taxpayers. Demolishing it would be far cheaper (around $55 million), but its status on the National Register of Historic Places makes that virtually impossible. Meanwhile, Harris County pays hundreds of thousands of dollars a year to maintain the building.

Proposals for the space have run the gamut. In 2024, the Astrodome Conservancy proposed Vision: Astrodome, which would transform the building into an indoor mall and event space. That still appears to be the foundation of the plan according to the RFI.

The RFI is seeking private investment to partner with the Harris County property. Proposals are merely for planning purposes and will not automatically lead to contracts for development. Section 2.3 states that participants in the new mixed-use space will "require back-of-house infrastructure improvements to support reliable operations at scale," likely meaning that the plan is to fund some of the much-needed renovations via tenants. However, the RFI points out that participants in the revitalized Astrodome will also be eligible for historic space preservation tax credits.

While Vision: Astrodome seems committed to using the stadium as a public space for the entertainment of Houstonians, the RFI is clear other options are on the table.

The Astrodome possibly being used to house a data center is specifically mentioned, though the RFI mandates such a proposal would need to be very upfront about the infrastructure demands and continuing operating costs of such a project. Public backlash against data centers led to Governor Greg Abbott ordering a pause on grid connections to them pending further review.

"The Astrodome presents a unique opportunity for adaptive reuse and redevelopment that honors its legacy while positioning it for long-term community and economic impact," said the conservancy in the release announcing the RFI.

With its blend of biotechnology, conservation, and education, RioRaiz seeks to inspire a new generation of conservationists. Photo via RioRaiz/Instagram

Innovative Houston nonprofit taps into biotech to preserve ecological biodiversity

conservation tech

For centuries, humans have been negatively impacting the natural world around them. A Houston organization is looking to leave an impact on the environment — but this time for the better.

Based in Houston, RioRaiz is a 501c3 nonprofit organization charting a unique course in the world of conservation and education. Founded in March of 2021, RioRaiz – meaning "root of the river" in Spanish, a nod to its deep-rooted connection with South American culture – seeks to preserve biodiversity through biotechnology and offer transformative learning experiences to contribute to a healthier planet.

Led by Jeff Carlson, the president and CEO, RioRaiz's mission is driven by three core pillars: conservation, scientific discovery, and education.

Currently, the nonprofit's efforts are focused on regions on the edge of ecological disruption, specifically the East Texas area and the Tropical Andes. In Texas, the organization aims to expand the biome of the Big Thicket National Preserve in Kountze as well as engaging locals by hosting clean-up drives. In the Andes, RioRaiz aspires to establish biological corridors between national parks and natural reserves, diminishing potential disruptions to animal migration patterns.

The timeline for these critical initiatives, Carlson said, hinges on donations.

"We have a list of priorities that is cataloged from input from our scientific collaborators, as well as our ability to deliver on our promises to our donors and supporters,” Carlson said.

Partnerships form a critical role in RioRaiz's work, notably those with academic institutions in the United States and Colombia. One of these collaborations saw Carlson spend three months in Colombia, working with the local Páez tribe, also known as the Nasa, to explore the potential of their traditional medicines for modern treatments.

"We're really excited to learn and to share our techniques and our knowledge," Carlson said, underlining the organization's commitment to partnering with traditional and indigenous knowledge sources.

With its blend of biotechnology, conservation, and education, RioRaiz seeks to inspire a new generation of conservationists. By offering an intimate virtual glimpse into the world's biomes, the nonprofit aims to instill a deep-rooted respect for nature and encourage sustainable action.

"If you expose students to these different kinds of environments at an early age, that might inspire somebody to go into conservation," Carlson said.

With a progressive effort, RioRaiz is harnessing the power of virtual reality to redefine education. The organization uses specialized filming equipment during its expeditions, capturing moments like the discovery of new species or conducting bio surveys. RioRaiz's visually compelling stories will surpass language barriers, transporting students virtually to different biomes. In time, Carlson hopes to distribute pre-loaded systems to communities with limited internet access, taking the classroom to every corner of the world. These virtual reality experiences are expected to launch within the next year.

"We want to bring the rainforest into the classroom," Carlson said.

Through its work, RioRaiz aims to demonstrate that the route to a sustainable future lies not just in face-to-face interactions, but in a global, interconnected approach to education and conservation. Its vision is clear — to grow far beyond traditional reaches, preserving biodiversity and fostering a healthier world.

Memorial Park, which is currently undergoing a master plan renovation, and other Houston parks can be a great opportunity for introducing urban conservation inside the city limits. Rendering courtesy of Nelson Byrd Woltz

Houston conservationist is helping to find new ways to protect local species and ecosystems

Living on a prairie

The Houston toad is a species that was discovered in Harris County in the 1950s. It has a very distinct, loud call that reverberates at quite a high pitch. But the Houston toad's call hasn't been heard in the city of Houston for almost 50 years. The species is locally extinct and critically endangered elsewhere. In fact, it's the most endangered amphibian in North America, says Cassidy Brown Johnson, a Rice University lecturer and president of the Coastal Prairie Partnership.

"When we think about extinction, we think of the dodo bird or the woolly mammoth," Johnson says. "But extinction is happening right underneath our noses."

The Houston Zoo has a breeding facility for Houston toad, but other than that, it's extremely unlikely that the Houston toad will ever reside naturally in its namesake city.

"We have modified the environment so heavily, that it'd be a bit of a dicey thing to do [to reintroduce the species] because there are so few of them, it's better to focus on an environment where it's still OK for them," Johnson says. The largest population of the Houston toad is actually in Bastrop, however due to the Bastrop fires in 2011, the species is only just recently back to a good place even there.

Johnson is giving a free lecture in April at Rice regarding extinction, where she'll bring her Astros-named Houston toads, Springer and Julia Morales, as her teacher aids.

Changing tides in conservation
As cities like Houston continue to be developed, scientists and researchers are challenged with finding new ways to effect conservation. Johnson says within the industry, there's been a shift in thinking when it comes to preserving nature.

"There's a new burgeoning movement in conservation called urban conservation," she says. "For a long time, if you talked to the traditional conservationists, the idea of conservation is to protect big spaces — the national and state park systems are the perfect example."

But large parks are expensive and a huge undertaking. It's still the strongest form of conservation, but introducing conservation efforts in a city — perhaps in some of Houston's parks, like Memorial Park or Hermann Park — helps not only the species of animals involved, but also educates the local population and forms a connection with residents.

"That has a twofold kind of benefit," Johnson says. "It protects the greenspace so species to live with us, and then also it makes the connection to this place we try to protect."

Of course, this type of effort is new, and there's not a lot of data to show how this would affect the ecosystem and its species, from the migratory and genetic diversity standpoints. Despite the lack of data, Johnson says this type of effort needs to happen.

"We're going to continue to manipulate the world, and maybe if we started thinking about this now, that we can get to a point were we understand enough were we can make these some sort of functioning ecosystem," she says.

Part of the shift in thinking about these ecosystems has to do with new ways of tracking species and understanding their environments.

"Technology is helping us ask a lot of these questions," Johnson says. "Ecology is surprisingly complicated. There's so many variables. ... I think technology and our advance with computing is definitely going to help us understand it."

Using preservation to solve flooding
The educational component is also very important to conservation, and Johnson is making strides on campus with her class. Last year, her department and her class introduced a pocket prairie right on the Rice campus.

Before it was the fourth largest city in America, Houston was a prairie. That type of ecosystem — thick with prairie grass — is very absorbing when it comes to rain water.

"It's really surprising to people that the trees and all this lushness is actually all artificial," Johnson says. "We know that this ecosystem evolved with the cyclical flooding events that happened here."

This movement to bring back Houston's ancient ecosystem is a new focus on a few prairie conservationist groups — and even the Harris County Flood Control. This has been going on for a while, but recent flooding events have opened the eyes of people now looking for reliable solutions to flooding problems.

"After Hurricane Harvey, people started realizing that this might be one of the solutions we could actually investigate and see if it can help us," Johnson says. "A green space is going to absorb way more water than a parking lot."

Of course, there are other flood solutions being discussed — some even incorporating tech or even a tube system underground.

"Historically, there has been some budding of heads between the environment and technology, but I really think moving forward, those two fields have to work together. We need to use technology to save the environment," Johnson says. "I think Houston is one of the places where that conversation is starting to happen."

Missing the toads

Courtesy of Cassidy Brown Johnson

The Houston toad has been locally extinct since the 1970s.

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Baylor College of Medicine launches VC fund to invest in biotech startups

fresh funding

Houston’s Baylor College of Medicine just unveiled a new venture capital fund that backs early-stage biotech startups—and it’s already made its first investment.

BCM Legacy Fund I, funded by philanthropies, invested an undisclosed amount in Houston biotech startup Nemea Therapeutics. Nemea, a spinout of the Baylor College of Medicine and Germany’s Lead Discovery Center, is developing an oral drug to treat metastatic triple-negative breast cancer that no longer responds to currently available therapies.

This type of aggressive cancer spreads from the breast to other areas of the body, such as the bones, liver, lungs or brain. Roughly 38,000 to 57,000 Americans are diagnosed each year with metastatic triple-negative breast cancer. One study showed about half of patients survive past the one-year mark following diagnosis and about one-third survive two years.

“Baylor College of Medicine’s laboratories produce discoveries with the potential to change patients’ lives, and too many of them stall where academic funding ends and private investment has not yet begun,” Dr. Jakub Tolar, president, CEO and executive dean of the Baylor College of Medicine, said in a press release. “The BCM Legacy Fund fills that gap, giving our scientists a path to advance their discoveries to patients.”

The National Institutes of Health awards more than $36 billion per year for biomedical research in the U.S., Baylor said. But some biomedical discoveries “never leave the starting line because they don’t yet fit the economics of venture capital,” the college said.

“The forefront of a new model”

The BCM Legacy Fund aggregates philanthropic capital from private foundations and donor-advised funds. It then invests in startups so they can move beyond that starting line and into later-stage investment rounds. The Greater Houston Community Foundation is the fund’s philanthropic partner.

“It’s exciting to be on the forefront of a new model for philanthropic capital,” said Houston entrepreneur and investor Burton Hanson, managing partner of the fund.

“Not only do we hope to solve a real problem by advancing these therapies to the patients who need them most, but we also hope this model will inspire others in the city and beyond toward philanthropic creativity and a posture of ‘I sacrifice; we win.’”

The fund expects to invest in about 15 early-stage startups over a five-year span. Baylor declined to divulge the amount of money in the fund and the size of the investment in Nemea.

Nemea’s “world-class chemistry”

Hanson oversees the Baylor fund alongside Chicago investor Steve Lehmann, who led the University of Chicago’s Innovation Fund.

Lehmann said Nemea, the fund’s first portfolio company, “has world-class chemistry, Baylor biology, and patients with no good options. Our job is to fund the experiments that carry it to the next handoff, so that industry and later-stage investors can take it from there.”

Based at Houston’s massive Texas Medical Center, Nemea plans to start clinical trials next year in collaboration with Baylor’s Lester and Sue Smith Breast Center.

Nemea previously received $9 million from the Lead Discovery Center and a $1.6 million grant from Baylor. Last year, the startup said it was seeking $25 million to $30 million in seed and Series A funding.

Debra McCoy of Houston, a former managing director at BlackRock and former partner at Bain & Co., and Paul Thomas, co-founder and CEO of Spring-based benefits manager Luscinia Health, sit on the Baylor fund’s governing board. Dr. Paul Klotman, former president, CEO and executive dean of Baylor, is a senior strategic adviser.

How does the fund find investment targets?

The Baylor Legacy Fund relies on two tools to help unearth early-stage biotech startups:

  • High-resolution “innovation maps” of research institutions. These maps surface hidden clusters of innovation, identify rising-star researchers and tie pockets of “innovation supply” at Baylor to areas of “innovation demand” in biotech.
  • AI-enhanced due diligence. AI agents assist with due diligence of early-stage biotech startups. The fund says the platform “distills the frameworks we’ve developed over a decade of teaching and investing into a flexible … diligence environment.”

MD Anderson unveils $3.4B expansion with two new Houston cancer care facilities

major expansion

The cutting edge of cancer-fighting technology and science is getting even sharper after MD Anderson announced last week that it will open two new facilities in the Texas Medical Center within the next five years. Inspiration Tower and Prism will expand MD Anderson’s annual patient load in the TMC to 250,000 annually and will incorporate a variety of new techniques.

The $3.4 billion project will add 2 million square feet to MD Anderson's TMC footprint, bringing its total campus size to 22 million square feet by 2032. Located at the corner of Fannin Street and Holcombe Boulevard, the cancer center says the two new facilities will serve as its new "front door" to the TMC.

“Every detail of these buildings, from the technology to the treatment rooms, was designed around our patients who will receive their care in them and our employees who will work in them. The facilities will serve as a physical representation of hope for the patients and their families who will walk through the doors,” Dr. Jeffrey E. Lee, president ad interim of UT MD Anderson, said in a news release. “Inspiration Tower and Prism are the future of cancer care, and we are grateful for the longstanding support and guidance we’ve received from the UT System Board of Regents to bring these projects to life. These facilities are part of the most impactful capital expansion in UT MD Anderson’s history.”

Prism is especially exciting as it will represent fully half of the linear accelerator treatment in the TMC. Linear accelerator is a radiation treatment that uses magnetically charged fields to deliver targeted external radiation therapy, like shooting cancer with a rail gun. The treatment is safer and has fewer side effects than older radiation treatments.

In addition, Prism will contain 12 MRI machines, four CT scanners, two PET-CT units, 18 radiation vaults and seven radiation simulators. Patient comfort has also been put at a premium with multiple gardens and roof overlooks.

“Every patient we treat deserves an environment that reflects the excellence of the care they receive at UT MD Anderson,” Chris McKee, executive vice president and chief strategy officer at UT MD Anderson, added in the release. “Our new facilities will be innovative, agile, adaptable and beautiful, and they will allow us to care for more patients, more effectively – in an environment that enhances healing and well-being. We are building for our future and for every patient who will be counting on us.”

Prism is slated to open in 2030.

Inspiration Tower will have 25 floors of surgical, diagnostic, and treatment services. At 1.4 million square feet, it’s currently expected to be the largest cancer-specific treatment facility in the United States. The tower will be divided into units for specific types of cancer, making it easy to integrate the advancing research being done all over Houston.

Like Prism, Inspiration Tower is specifically designed to offer comfort and reassurance, with more garden space, terraces, and beautiful scenery to ease patient distress. It is expected to open in 2032.

Tesla will pull the plug on Cybertruck production at Texas factory in 2027

Tesla Talk

Tesla’s Cybertruck, the hulking, stainless-steel pickup that inspired devotion and derision with its science-fiction looks, will cease production next year.

CEO Elon Musk announced the model’s demise Friday, November 6, with a curt post on X, his social media site, simply noting production of the vehicle “will be winding down” around the middle of 2027 at its facility outside Austin, Texas. Musk said the move was to allow increased production of its Cybercab robotaxi.

For the Cybertruck, a pet project of Musk who insisted it was Tesla’s best product, it marks an unceremonious end to one of the auto industry’s most ballyhooed debuts.

“Few vehicles in history have generated as much attention,” said Armen Hareyan, whose Torque News site covers autos. “The Cybertruck became a cultural symbol – loved, mocked and impossible to ignore.”

The Cybertruck rolled onto the scene in a dramatic unveiling in 2019, when a Tesla designer hurled a metal ball at the vehicle to demonstrate its supposedly unbreakable glass, only to see it shatter. He repeated the stunt on another window of the truck only to shatter that one, too.

Even as some critics scoffed, Musk was steadfast.

“I just wanted to make a futuristic battle tank — something that looks like it could come out of ‘Blade Runner’ or ‘Aliens’ or something like that but was also highly functional,” he told Automotive News. He called it “a better sports car than a Porsche 911” and “a better truck than an F-150.”

It struck some as the perfect vehicular reflection of the brash, convention-busting Musk.

“A really controversial vehicle unveiled by a controversial individual into a market where none of the electric trucks have been able to really capture demand,” said Spencer Penn, a former Tesla executive who left the company before the Cybertruck’s launch and now heads software developer LightSource.

Penn remembered watching the unveiling and feeling initially revolted by the sight of the Cybertruck, calling its appearance “madness.” But the more he looked at it, the more his opinion changed. He signed up for a pre-sale reservation, though ended up not getting a Cybertruck when Musk’s promises of a price tag under $40,000 went unmet and the first trucks sold for double or more. Penn called the Cybertruck part of Tesla’s adventurous spirit that drives innovation.

“Some of these bets work and some of these bets don’t,” he said.

While the decision to end Cybertruck production may be driven by sales realities, it's also a reflection of Tesla’s shift to autonomous vehicles, on which Musk is betting the company’s future.

Musk once forecast he’d make 250,000 Cybertrucks a year. Kelley Blue Book estimated Tesla sold just 20,237 of the vehicles last year, down about half from the year prior. Sales through the end of September this year were down another 28%, according to Kelley Blue Book.

If the imposing, sharp-angled, dystopian appearance of the Cybertruck weren’t enough to turn many potential buyers away, Musk did so himself by allying with a panoply of right-wing figures, most notably U.S. President Donald Trump. He alienated some customers as his image morphed from eccentric innovator to polarizing force trading his billions for political influence.

Once-passionate Tesla drivers rushed to sell off their cars, or slapped stickers on the bumper declaring, “I bought this before Elon went crazy.” Organizers staged demonstrations outside Tesla showrooms and urged investors to dump shares of the company’s stock. Anger spilled into violence, with Molotov cocktails hurled at Tesla vehicles, charging stations set ablaze, and dealerships covered in graffiti.

Lovers of the Cybertruck became targets, too, subjected to shouts of “Nazi!” and extended middle fingers.

Ross Blankenship is one of them. When he first laid eyes on the Cybertruck, he felt transported to a world from his childhood, when he would play “Halo,” the sci-fi video game. He had to have it.

“I had that sort of child in me wanting to be part of something cool that would change the future of automotive,” Blankenship said in a call from his Cybertruck as he drove through Sunnyside, Colorado. Even as Blankenship found he agreed with Musk on politics, he hated seeing a vehicle he loved turned into a political symbol. “I never bought it for any other reason than the fascination with the future technology of trucks … so that was a little heartbreaking.”

He would buy another Cybertruck again in a heartbeat, calling its end “a sad moment.”