This Financial Firm Can Give Investment Advice in Gen Z Slang, No Cap
Arta, a wealth-management startup, is using mobile apps and AI tools to reach young millionaires.
Arta, a wealth-management startup, is using mobile apps and AI tools to reach young millionaires.
Artificial intelligence is coming to the world of investment advice, and it can speak in Gen Z slang.
That is the pitch from Arta Finance, a wealth-management startup led by an ex-Google executive and backed by the former chief executive of Swiss-banking stalwart UBS.
Arta is rolling out an AI assistant that can dispense financial advice in spoken conversations—and in any preferred tone and argot. Even for the 20-something millionaire set.
“Low-key gonna break down ur investment plan rn,” the Arta assistant says, responding to a client’s query on his investment portfolio. “No cap, ur portfolio is fire!”
“No cap” is an assurance that the statement that preceded or followed it is indeed factual.
The AI tool won’t recommend any investments that don’t match customers’ stated appetite for taking risks.
And it definitely won’t trade on its own without the users’ consent—it isn’t that kind of artificial intelligence.
But it can walk through the pros and cons of specific stocks, point out cost-saving tax strategies and offer advice on how someone might tweak their investment strategy if they take a pay cut.
Many wealth managers are exploring ways that AI can support human advisers behind the scenes, said Shirl Penney , CEO of Dynasty Financial Partners, a platform for independent advisers. But bots that engage directly with clients are still relatively rare.
“It’s really about utilizing AI to minimize some of the back office operations,” Penney said, adding that the tools can be used to fill out forms or draft notes to clients.
“It’s still pretty hard for AI to tell someone they should sell their business or that they should retire—or to give advice when they’re going through a tough life event, like a divorce.”
Arta, led by Caesar Sengupta, is betting that younger, digital-native Americans will value mobile apps, convenience and lower fees over the face-to-face advice their parents and grandparents received from traditional financial advisers.
“This is essentially a relationship that is available on your phone at any point in time,” said Sengupta, Arta’s CEO and co-founder.
Arta, whose platform is also available through a desktop app, isn’t the only upstart wealth-management firm to tout its mobile services or even push into AI.
Just last week, Robinhood Markets unveiled an AI assistant for its brokerage platform.
And with fees on many financial services under siege from low-cost options, many banks and brokerages are eager to provide financial advice to a wealthier clientele who pay higher fees.
Arta’s platform is currently only available to accredited investors, meaning users will need well over six figures in assets to qualify. The company is also looking to license its technology to other financial firms, Sengupta said.
Ralph Hamers, the former CEO of UBS and then ING, said AI tools like Arta’s can reshape the financial-advice industry. He doesn’t think AI is coming for financial advisers’ jobs.
A divide has opened in the tech job market between those with artificial-intelligence skills and everyone else.
A 30-metre masterpiece unveiled in Monaco brings Lamborghini’s supercar drama to the high seas, powered by 7,600 horsepower and unmistakable Italian design.
A divide has opened in the tech job market between those with artificial-intelligence skills and everyone else.
There has rarely, if ever, been so much tech talent available in the job market. Yet many tech companies say good help is hard to find.
What gives?
U.S. colleges more than doubled the number of computer-science degrees awarded from 2013 to 2022, according to federal data. Then came round after round of layoffs at Google, Meta, Amazon, and others.
The Bureau of Labor Statistics predicts businesses will employ 6% fewer computer programmers in 2034 than they did last year.
All of this should, in theory, mean there is an ample supply of eager, capable engineers ready for hire.
But in their feverish pursuit of artificial-intelligence supremacy, employers say there aren’t enough people with the most in-demand skills. The few perceived as AI savants can command multimillion-dollar pay packages. On a second tier of AI savvy, workers can rake in close to $1 million a year .
Landing a job is tough for most everyone else.
Frustrated job seekers contend businesses could expand the AI talent pipeline with a little imagination. The argument is companies should accept that relatively few people have AI-specific experience because the technology is so new. They ought to focus on identifying candidates with transferable skills and let those people learn on the job.
Often, though, companies seem to hold out for dream candidates with deep backgrounds in machine learning. Many AI-related roles go unfilled for weeks or months—or get taken off job boards only to be reposted soon after.
It is difficult to define what makes an AI all-star, but I’m sorry to report that it’s probably not whatever you’re doing.
Maybe you’re learning how to work more efficiently with the aid of ChatGPT and its robotic brethren. Perhaps you’re taking one of those innumerable AI certificate courses.
You might as well be playing pickup basketball at your local YMCA in hopes of being signed by the Los Angeles Lakers. The AI minds that companies truly covet are almost as rare as professional athletes.
“We’re talking about hundreds of people in the world, at the most,” says Cristóbal Valenzuela, chief executive of Runway, which makes AI image and video tools.
He describes it like this: Picture an AI model as a machine with 1,000 dials. The goal is to train the machine to detect patterns and predict outcomes. To do this, you have to feed it reams of data and know which dials to adjust—and by how much.
The universe of people with the right touch is confined to those with uncanny intuition, genius-level smarts or the foresight (possibly luck) to go into AI many years ago, before it was all the rage.
As a venture-backed startup with about 120 employees, Runway doesn’t necessarily vie with Silicon Valley giants for the AI job market’s version of LeBron James. But when I spoke with Valenzuela recently, his company was advertising base salaries of up to $440,000 for an engineering manager and $490,000 for a director of machine learning.
A job listing like one of these might attract 2,000 applicants in a week, Valenzuela says, and there is a decent chance he won’t pick any of them. A lot of people who claim to be AI literate merely produce “workslop”—generic, low-quality material. He spends a lot of time reading academic journals and browsing GitHub portfolios, and recruiting people whose work impresses him.
In addition to an uncommon skill set, companies trying to win in the hypercompetitive AI arena are scouting for commitment bordering on fanaticism .
Daniel Park is seeking three new members for his nine-person startup. He says he will wait a year or longer if that’s what it takes to fill roles with advertised base salaries of up to $500,000.
He’s looking for “prodigies” willing to work seven days a week. Much of the team lives together in a six-bedroom house in San Francisco.
If this sounds like a lonely existence, Park’s team members may be able to solve their own problem. His company, Pickle, aims to develop personalised AI companions akin to Tony Stark’s Jarvis in “Iron Man.”
James Strawn wasn’t an AI early adopter, and the father of two teenagers doesn’t want to sacrifice his personal life for a job. He is beginning to wonder whether there is still a place for people like him in the tech sector.
He was laid off over the summer after 25 years at Adobe , where he was a senior software quality-assurance engineer. Strawn, 55, started as a contractor and recalls his hiring as a leap of faith by the company.
He had been an artist and graphic designer. The managers who interviewed him figured he could use that background to help make Illustrator and other Adobe software more user-friendly.
Looking for work now, he doesn’t see the same willingness by companies to take a chance on someone whose résumé isn’t a perfect match to the job description. He’s had one interview since his layoff.
“I always thought my years of experience at a high-profile company would at least be enough to get me interviews where I could explain how I could contribute,” says Strawn, who is taking foundational AI courses. “It’s just not like that.”
The trouble for people starting out in AI—whether recent grads or job switchers like Strawn—is that companies see them as a dime a dozen.
“There’s this AI arms race, and the fact of the matter is entry-level people aren’t going to help you win it,” says Matt Massucci, CEO of the tech recruiting firm Hirewell. “There’s this concept of the 10x engineer—the one engineer who can do the work of 10. That’s what companies are really leaning into and paying for.”
He adds that companies can automate some low-level engineering tasks, which frees up more money to throw at high-end talent.
It’s a dynamic that creates a few handsomely paid haves and a lot more have-nots.
When the Writers Festival was called off and the skies refused to clear, one weekend away turned into a rare lesson in slowing down, ice baths included.
An opulent Ryde home, packed with cinema, pool, sauna and more, is hitting the auction block with a $1 reserve.