Meet Improbable, The Startup Building The World's Most Powerful Simulations.


Every Friday just after lunch, the videogame developers at Bossa Studios in London’s East End take a break from all the coding to try out their own work.
This spring they were putting the finishing touches on Worlds Adrift, a so-called massively multiplayer online role-playing game in which thousands of people floated across a virtual sky on ships, attacking one another.
They were hoping to build the next World of Warcraft, an MMORPG that grossed more than $1 billion last year.
Bossa’s game had the potential to be better because it would seem more real. To achieve that Bossa had turned to Improbable, another startup 2 miles to the west, which has invented a new way to simulate extremely complex systems.
A floating fantasy world is a perfect candidate for Improbable’s sim software. Traditional MMORPGs like World of Warcraft have to take serious shortcuts around reality to simplify the computational load for the game.
You can slay a dragon, for example, but it will respawn for thousands of other players to slay, too. Following basic rules of biology and physics is exceedingly difficult in virtual worlds, especially when handling the load of thousands of simultaneous players.
Reality is too expensive given the hundreds more servers needed to calculate the death of every tree, animal and person as an autonomous element in a living ecosystem. In Worlds Adrift, one player kills another creature and it’s really dead.
One day in March, as Bossa’s coders were play-testing their game, they picked up a flare gun meant only for signaling and threw it at another player. Sure enough it caused a red flash on the screen, indicating an injury.  But, says Bossa Studios cofounder Henrique Olifiers, “they hadn’t coded it as a weapon.”
The simulation was based on complex principles of physics and biology, and the rule that any physical object hurled with speed would do damage. Olifiers’ developers would normally have programmed a limited set of effects that every object in the game could have on the virtual world.
But here those effects were discovered in the game; a phenomenon known as “emergent game play.” The result was a virtual world almost as unpredictable as the real one. “We never know what the game is going to be like,” he says.
The game was also built for a fraction of the usual cost. A project on the scale of Worlds Adrift would typically take years and millions of dollars for a studio of Bossa’s size to build, but they did it in roughly a year and with just a core team of front-end developers.
A screen shot from Words Adrift. (Image via Bossa Studios)
A screen shot from Words Adrift. (Image via Bossa Studios)
Improbable was founded two and a half years ago by Herman Narula and Rob Whitehead, a pair of hyperkinetic computer scientists from the University of Cambridge.
In their ground floor office on a bland-looking block in Farringdon, a team of about 60 engineers from MIT, Goldman Sachs and Google GOOGL -0.93% sit at $40 desks writing code that could dramatically reshape not only how we play games but how large organizations make decisions.
Worlds Adrift, launching this autumn, will be the first public application of Improbable’s technology.
Meanwhile, Samsung has talked to the company about running simulations for its Internet of Things devices, and economists from Oxford are using it to run models of the U.K. housing market.
Improbable is also “talking heavily” to Britain’s Ministry of Defense, says Narula, the startup’s high-octane CEO. He’s tight-lipped about most projects because of contractual obligations but says Improbable has booked revenue in the single-digit millions of pounds since launching.
In March it raised $20 million from Andreessen Horowitz at a $100 million valuation, making it one of only two startups in London to take money from the Silicon Valley venture firm. It had turned down three other potential investors the year before.
“It was such a new and original idea,” says Chris Dixon, who led Andreessen’s investment. ”We see a lot of stuff, and we’d never seen anything like this.”
Improbable’s software is designed to simulate systems on an unprecedentedly massive scale: the economics of a national health care system; a nation suffering a virulent infectious disease outbreak; or the cascading effects of a hurricane on a 100-mile stretch of inhabited coastline.
A model of human immune system requires billions of entities that operate independently, but academics can build that for the first time on Improbable’s platform. “Suddenly your business can simulate the supply chain,” says Narula, or see what happens when you put hand sanitiser into a public transportation system for commuters.
Improbable’s tech can also replace the mundane testing that websites run all the time on live users, with a far richer series of tests on simulated humans in parallel virtual worlds.
The leap Improbable made is in how dramatically it reduces the processing power needed to run complex, custom simulations. Instead of waiting for programs that move data from one server to another, Improbable unleashes a swarm of programs that dip in and out of the servers all at once.
Clients provide Improbable with their own “worker programs” that contain all the main components of a simulation, while Improbable manages the hard part of running the components on cloud or client servers, acting as a kind of operating system.
The more clients Improbable gets, the more it can expand its library of programs that other customers can reuse.For example, one game developer used the company’s platform earlier this year to build an enormous virtual world built on a grid, using fundamental physics principles on an unprecedented scale. Players could breathe and be exposed to different types of gasses that flowed from one section of the grid to the other.
Now an academic client that Narula is talking to could use some of the code built by the game developers for their project modelling energy usage in houses, simulating the movement of hot and cold air from room to room.
The potential in gaming itself is broad. Just as hardcore gamers are gravitating towards more realistic simulations, so too are the wider crowd of people playing casual games on their smartphones. Today’s generation of mobile gamers started off on a diet of simple games like Angry Birds, but they progressed through Candy Crush to more complex multiplayer games like Clash of Clans. Over time, more of us might want to play in complex worlds like Worlds Adrift.
“There’s a learning curve that this new cohort of users are going through,” says Ben Holmes, a partner at London-based Index Ventures who led investments into King.com and Supercell, but not Improbable. “That’s where this kind of technology, [from Improbable] might be useful.”
The effect in sum is a tool that could do for simulations what Amazon Web Services did for cloud computing – cutting the need to hire a raft of expensive computer scientists or rent more servers.
“Improbable is trying to be the world’s ‘what if’ machine,” says Narula.
Sitting in a tiny meeting room at his company’s headquarters in London, Narula sports slightly-overgrown black hair that skews to one side and talks at a machine-gun clip, a tightly-coiled barrel of energy. The moment he takes a seat his leg involuntarily bounces up and down, and if he’s not pacing in front of a white board he’s flipping a marker over and over.
Born in Delhi, India, Narula moved to the U.K. when he was 3. His father, Harpinder Singh Narula, ran a successful family construction business operating in Africa, India and the Middle East, and sent his son to the elite Haberdashers’ Aske’s Boys School for high school.
Narula’s two brothers, the older more than eight years his senior, went on to work in the family businesses, but Narula wanted to code, teaching himself to write in C++ at 12. While studying computer science at Cambridge he met Rob Whitehead, a Liverpudlian who had paid his way through college by selling weapons on the virtual-world site Second Life.
They began working on an ambitious virtual-world videogame in which you could drop an object, then log back in the next day and find it still there. When they couldn’t find software to help them scale up, they built the tools themselves.
“Eventually we realized the tech we were working on was bigger than the game,” says Whitehead.
In early 2012, just months before he was due to graduate, Narula told his parents he was ditching the family business to run his own startup. “It was a bit of a shock,” he says, adding that he gave up an inheritance that could have been in the hundreds of millions of dollars. “Indian families are tightly knit. You get dispossessed if you don’t contribute.”
The founders spent £20,000 to cover their first six months of costs. One of their lead software engineers maxed out three credit cards to buy equipment. Then Narula borrowed $1.5 million from friends and family to get Improbable through its first two and a half years in a converted barn next door to his family home in North London, where about a dozen early staffers ate, slept and coded. Narula and Whitehead held interviews in their shower room.
Narula has no regrets about sidestepping the family business. “People think there’s security in great wealth and that people who make it in a big way must come from a hungry background.”
For Narula it’s enough to want to “build worlds and daydreams. Look at the stars. I can’t go there, but I can build the worlds myself.”

forbes.

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Sandhurst's sheikhs: Why do so many Gulf royals receive military training in the UK? A parade outside the building at Sandhurst Continue reading the main story In today's Magazine The death list that names 5,000 victims Is this woman an apostate? Voices from a WW1 prison camp The Swiss selfie scandal Generations of foreign royals - particularly from the Middle East - have learned to be military leaders at the UK's Sandhurst officer training academy. But is that still a good idea, asks Matthew Teller. Since 1812, the Royal Military Academy Sandhurst, on the Surrey/Berkshire border, has been where the British Army trains its officers. It has a gruelling 44-week course testing the physical and intellectual skills of officer cadets and imbuing them with the values of the British Army. Alongside would-be British officers, Sandhurst has a tradition of drawing cadets from overseas. Many of the elite families of the Middle East have sent their sons and daughters. Perhaps the most notable was King Hussein of Jordan. Continue reading the main story Find out more Matthew Teller presents Sandhurst and the Sheikhs, a Whistledown production for BBC Radio 4, on Wednesday 27 August 2014 at 11:00 BST It will be available on iPlayer shortly after broadcast Four reigning Arab monarchs are graduates of Sandhurst and its affiliated colleges - King Abdullah of Jordan, King Hamad of Bahrain, Sheikh Tamim, Emir of Qatar, and Sultan Qaboos of Oman. Past monarchs include Sheikh Saad, Emir of Kuwait, and Sheikh Hamad, Emir of Qatar. Sandhurst's links have continued from the time when Britain was the major colonial power in the Gulf. "One thing the British were excellent at was consolidating their rule through spectacle," says Habiba Hamid, former foreign policy strategist to the rulers of Dubai and Abu Dhabi. "Pomp, ceremony, displays of military might, shock and awe - they all originate from the British military relationship." Sheikh Hamad Bin Isa Al Khalifa, King Abdullah, Sultan Qaboos Sandhurst alumni: King Hamad of Bahrain, King Abdullah of Jordan and Sultan Qaboos of Oman It's a place where future leaders get to know each other, says Michael Stephens, deputy director of the Royal United Services Institute, Qatar. And Sandhurst gives the UK influence in the Gulf. "The [UK] gets the kind of attention from Gulf policy elites that countries of our size, like France and others, don't get. It gives us the ability to punch above our weight. "You have people who've spent time in Britain, they have… connections to their mates, their teachers. Familiarity in politics is very beneficial in the Gulf context." "For British people who are drifting around the world, as I did as a soldier," says Brigadier Peter Sincock, former defence attache to Saudi Arabia, "you find people who were at Sandhurst and you have an immediate rapport. I think that's very helpful, for example, in the field of military sales." The Emir of Dubai Mohammad bin Rashid Al Maktoum with his son after his Passing Out Parade at Sandhurst in 2006 Sheikh Mohammad bin Rashid Al Maktoum, Emir of Dubai, with his son in uniform at Sandhurst in 2006 Her Majesty The Queen's Representative His Highness Sheikh Hamad bin Khalifa Al-Thani, The Emir of Qatar inspects soldiers during the 144th Sovereign's Parade held at The Royal Military Academy Sandhurst on April 8, 2004 in Camberley, England. Some 470 Officer cadets took part of which 219 were commissioned into the British Army Hamad bin Khalifa Al-Thani, the Emir of Qatar until 2013, inspects soldiers at Sandhurst in 2004 Emotion doesn't always deliver. In 2013, despite the personal intervention of David Cameron, the UAE decided against buying the UK's Typhoon fighter jets. But elsewhere fellow feeling is paying dividends. "The Gulf monarchies have become important sources of capital," says Jane Kinninmont, deputy head of the Middle East/North Africa programme at the foreign affairs think tank Chatham House. "So you see the tallest building in London being financed by the Qataris, you see UK infrastructure and oilfield development being financed by the UAE. There's a desire - it can even seem like a desperation - to keep them onside for trade reasons." British policy in the Gulf is primarily "mercantile", says Dr Kristian Coates Ulrichsen, of the Baker Institute in Houston, Texas. Concerns over human rights and reform are secondary. The Shard at dusk The Shard was funded by Qatari investors In 2012 Sandhurst accepted a £15m donation from the UAE for a new accommodation block, named the Zayed Building after that country's founding ruler. In March 2013, Sandhurst's Mons Hall - a sports centre - was reopened as the King Hamad Hall, following a £3m donation from the monarch of Bahrain, who was educated at one of Sandhurst's affiliated colleges. The renaming proved controversial, partly because of the perceived slight towards the 1,600 British casualties at the Battle of Mons in August 1914 - and partly because of how Hamad and his government have dealt with political protest in Bahrain over the last three years. A critic might note that the third term of Sandhurst's Officer Commissioning Course covers counter-insurgency techniques and ways to manage public disorder. Since tension between Bahrain's majority Shia population and minority Sunni ruling elite boiled over in 2011, more than 80 civilians have died at the hands of the security forces, according to opposition estimates, though the government disputes the figures. Thirteen police officers have also lost their lives in the clashes. "The king has always felt that Sandhurst was a great place," says Sincock, chairman of the Bahrain Society, which promotes friendship between the UK and Bahrain. "Something like 20 of his immediate family have been there as cadets. He didn't really understand why there was such an outcry." David Cameron and King Hamad David Cameron meeting King Hamad in 2012... A protester is held back by police ... while protesters nearby opposed the Bahrain ruler's human rights record Crispin Black, a Sandhurst graduate and former instructor, says the academy should not have taken the money. "Everywhere you look there's a memorial to something, a building or a plaque that serves as a touchstone that takes you right to the heart of British military history. Calling this hall 'King Hamad Hall' ain't gonna do that." Sandhurst gave a written response to the criticism. "All donations to Sandhurst are in compliance with the UK's domestic and international legal obligations and our values as a nation. Over the years donations like this have saved the UK taxpayer a considerable amount of money." But what happens when Sandhurst's friends become enemies? In 2001, then-prime minister Tony Blair visited Damascus, marking a warming of relations between the UK and Syria. Shortly after, in 2003, Sandhurst was training officers from the Syrian armed forces. Now, of course, Syria is an international pariah. Journalist Michael Cockerell has written about Libyan dictator Colonel Gaddafi's time at the Army School of Education in Beaconsfield in 1966: "Three years [later], Gaddafi followed a tradition of foreign officers trained by the British Army. He made use of his newfound knowledge to seize political power in his own country." Ahmed Ali Sandhurst-trained Ahmed Ali was a key player in the Egyptian military's removal of Islamist President Mohammed Morsi That tradition persists. In the 1990s Egyptian colonel Ahmed Ali attended Sandhurst. In 2013 he was one of the key figures in the Egyptian military's removal of Islamist President Mohammed Morsi, now rewarded by a post in President Sisi's inner circle of advisers. In the late 1990s there were moves by the British government under Tony Blair to end Sandhurst's training of overseas cadets. Major-General Arthur Denaro, Middle East adviser to the defence secretary and commandant at Sandhurst in the late 1990s, describes the idea as part of the "ethical foreign policy" advocated by the late Robin Cook, then-foreign secretary. Tony Blair and Robin Cook Tony Blair and Robin Cook at one point planned to end Sandhurst's training of overseas cadets The funeral of King Hussein in 1999 appears to have scuppered the plan. "Coming to that funeral were the heads of state of almost every country in the world - and our prime minister was there, Tony Blair," says Major-General Denaro. "He happened to see me talking to heads of state - the Sultan of Brunei, the Sultan of Oman, the Bahrainis, the Saudis - and he said 'How do you know all these guys?' The answer was because they went to Sandhurst." Today, Sandhurst has reportedly trained more officer cadets from the UAE than from any other country bar the UK. The May 2014 intake included 72 overseas cadets, around 40% of whom were from the Middle East. "In the future," says Maryam al-Khawaja, acting president of the Bahrain Centre for Human Rights, "people will look back at how much Britain messed up in the [Middle East] because they wanted to sell more Typhoon jets to Bahrain, rather than stand behind the values of human rights and democracy." "It's one thing saying we're inculcating benign values, but that's not happening," says Habiba Hamid. Sandhurst is "a relic of the colonial past. They're not [teaching] the civic values we ought to find in democratically elected leaders." line Who else went to Sandhurst? Princes William and Harry, Winston Churchill, Ian Fleming, Katie Hopkins, Antony Beevor, James Blunt, Josh Lewsey, Devon Harris (From left to right) Princes William and Harry Sir Winston Churchill Ian Fleming, creator of James Bond (but did not complete training) Katie Hopkins, reality TV star Antony Beevor, historian James Blunt, singer-songwriter Josh Lewsey, World Cup-winning England rugby player Devon Harris, member of Jamaica's first bobsleigh team line Sandhurst says that "building international relations through military exchanges and education is a key pillar of the UK's international engagement strategy". Sandhurst may be marvellous for the UK, a country where the army is subservient to government, but it is also delivering militarily-trained officers to Middle Eastern monarchies where, often, armies seem to exist to defend not the nation but the ruling family.