Comcast is waving the white flag in its battle to keep its misleading "Xfinity 10G Network" brand name after facing claims of alleged false advertising.

After claiming that its Xfinity 10G Network service was “game-changing,” “self-healing” and “ultra-fast” by seemingly comparing it to 5G, Comcast faced a challenge from T-Mobile last year in February where it questioned those claims and brought forth the issue to the National Advertising Division (NAD) of BBB National Programs.

Related: Comcast fights to keep its 'misleading' new name for Xfinity

After the NAD did not find evidence that supported Comcast’s claim that the “Xfinity 10G Network” is superior to 5G, it recommended on Oct. 12 that Comcast should discontinue its 10G claims and “use ‘10G’ in a manner that is not false or misleading.” In response to that decision, Comcast filed an appeal.

Now, Comcast has lost the appeal as the National Advertising Review Board (NARB) of BBB National Programs agreed with the NAD’s recommendation in a Jan. 31 ruling after Verizon also challenged Comcast’s “10G” claims.

“The NARB panel concluded that 10G expressly communicates at a minimum that users of the Xfinity network will experience significantly faster speeds than are available on 5G networks,” said the NARB in its decision. “This express claim is not supported because the record does not contain any data comparing speeds experienced by Xfinity network users with speeds experienced by subscribers to 5G networks.”

The NARB panel determined that Comcast should discontinue using the term 10G “when used in the name of the service itself (“Xfinity 10G Network”) as well as when used to describe the Xfinity network.”

In response to the NARB’s decision, Comcast said that “although it strongly disagrees with NARB’s analysis and approach,” it will change its advertising to comply with the panel’s ruling.

10G internet could easily be confused by consumers as an upgrade from 5G when both are very different. 5G stands for 5th generation, and 10G stands for 10 gigabits per second. 5G only relates to cellular network connection, and 10G and is only offered for home internet service. 5G is also faster than 10G as it offers faster downloading speeds.

Related: Veteran fund manager picks favorite stocks for 2024

Visit Man of Many for the full post.

This story was funded by our members. Join Longreads and help us to support more writers.

The horrific trafficking of intimate partners. An homage to Pitchfork. Memories of a childhood spent in a Kentucky kitchen. Risking lives for extreme skiing. And why we need to calm down about UFOs.

1. The Venture

Christopher Johnston and Erin Quinlan | Cosmopolitan | January 30, 2024 | 3,899 words

When someone first suggested that her boyfriend might be trafficking her, Kayla Goedinghaus was incredulous. She was being abused—beaten, drugged, denied money—but trafficked? In time, as Christopher Johnston and Erin Quinlan detail in this gripping story, Goedinghaus came to understand the truth about her situation, which was far from unusual. “As of 2020, an estimated 39 percent of sex-trafficking victims in this country were brought into it by intimate partners,” Johnston and Quinlan write. “Through physical force, manipulation, or fraud, those victims are compelled to engage in sex acts for the trafficker’s benefit. That could mean posing for nudes he secretly sells to cover his gambling debts or sleeping with random men off the street so he can score drugs or letting the landlord watch sex acts through the bedroom window as a form of rent payment.” In Goedinghaus’s case, her boyfriend, Rick, was peddling her as a commodity among his friends, who allegedly included powerful men such as Trammell Crow Jr., an heir to a massive real-estate fortune (and brother to Harlan Crow, the conservative donor who’s been bankrolling Supreme Court Justice Clarence Thomas’s lifestyle for years). This piece, then, serves as a corrective to widespread assumptions about trafficking, including who perpetrates it and who is hurt by it. Narratively speaking, the story’s crux is an unlikely friendship. Before Goedinghaus, Rick trafficked his ex-wife, Julia Hubbard, and the two women encountering each other changed everything—indeed, it made this feature possible. “Setting eyes on each other for the first time,” Johnston and Quinlan write, “Julia and Kayla were zapped with an eerie sense of mutual recognition, as though they were standing on opposite sides of a looking glass: Kayla as the new Julia and Julia as the former Kayla. They even looked alike.” —SD

2. A Notorious Pitchfork Reviewer Was My Biggest Musical Influence

Dan McQuade | Defector | January 31, 2024 | 2,944 words

I’ve always loved music. I grew up recording music videos set to New Edition, Salt-N-Pepa, and Bel Biv Devoe on VHS with my cousins, and listening to ’80s hip-hop in the tiny back seat of my older brother’s Porsche 914 convertible while he and a friend “cruised for babes.” Bay Area radio stations LIVE 105 and KOME taught me about grunge and alternative rock, and my first underground rave opened the door to a whole new world. In the ’90s, I wasn’t yet reading about music online, still relying on my local Tower Records to discover it: as a customer, combing through new releases and reading issues of Urb and NME, and later as an employee, obsessively organizing its modest “Dance/Electronica” selection and getting recommendations from my coworkers. But I don’t know much about music; I have no formal music education (except for a brief dalliance with the violin) and have certainly never felt confident enough to write about it. So I was drawn to Dan McQuade’s thoughts on Pitchfork, the music publication Condé Nast announced would be folded into GQ. Right at the start, McQuade states that he, too, doesn’t know much about music. But Pitchfork, especially in its early years, helped to fill in the gaps. His writing resonates with me: it’s personal, funny but not snarky, and comes from the heart. He reflects on how Pitchfork’s reviews had influenced him, particularly those of music critic James P. Wisdom. How the site had been a champion of electronic music since the ’90s. And how, in a very ’00s bloggy way, it was an outlet for people to review music but also to express themselves in the process, freely and irreverently, about things they cared about. “Pitchfork not only gave me bands to listen to, but told me how I might think about them,” he writes. Wisdom also puts it nicely, saying that “contextualizing and humanizing how we find and explore music is valuable.” A lovely essay and stroll down memory lane, with links to fun archived reviews. (And +1 for the playlist inspiration: I now have Moby on rotation nonstop.) —CLR

3. Tasting Indian Creek

Crystal Wilkinson | Oxford American | January 23, 2024 | 3,409 words

In this wonderful book excerpt from Praisesong for the Kitchen Ghosts, Crystal Wilkinson serves up memories of her childhood in Black Appalachia, spent with Granny Christine in their Kentucky kitchen. This piece is more than mere memoir; Wilkinson reflects on roots that run deep and close, the hefty domestic contribution women make, and preservation as a labor of love. For Wilkinson, recipes transcend ingredients and instructions to prepare a dish. They’re stories imbued with wisdom and experience handed down and across generations from ancestors that remain present in spirit, supervising each new iteration of Granny’s jam cake. “In the corner of my grandmother’s kitchen, spirits shimmered near the bucket of well water, hovered over the olive refrigerator, floated above the flour sifter, and glided around the coal-burning stove,” she writes. Granny Christine’s cake recipe—written in “her perfect cursive” and reproduced in full in the piece—is an incantation that conjures home for Wilkinson: “3 sticks of butter, 2 cups sugar, 2 cups flour, 6 eggs …” Take the time to whisper that recipe to yourself and feel full, emotionally. Needless to say this piece was deeply satisfying; I savored it from beginning to end. —KS

4. Precipice of Fear: the Freerider Who Took Skiing to its Limits

The Guardian | Simon Akam | January 30, 2024 | 5,932 words

I love to ski. Well, I love to ski on a nice clear day, on a nice clear run. Anything too steep or too icy, and I am edging down that slope inch by inch, brow deeply furrowed, sweat beading, pole dragging behind me (as if that would stop me). I am in awe of people like Jérémie Heitz, who can sweep down an impossible cliff face with such grace it becomes poetry, poles firmly up front and part of a fluid, gliding movement. Heitz’s specialty is at the extreme end of professional freeriding—his descents are so steep the gradient is twice that of some “expert” ski resort terrain. Simon Akam describes these icy peaks so vividly I could feel my heart pounding in my mouth as “Heitz slid sideways down the first few meters, made a turn, and then cut down onto the highest grey smear of ice.” He is committed to his reporting—even skiing with Heitz and completing some terrifying runs himself. But this piece is more than a litany of daredevil feats: it’s a reflection on the nature of extreme sports and the sponsors who support them. Heitz has lost 20 friends—normal in this world. Can that ever be worth it? —CW

5. How We Lost Our Minds About UFOs

Nicholson Baker | New York | January 31, 2024 | 6,751 words

Close Encounters of the Third Kind filled me with wonder as a kid, and an ’80s childhood provided no shortage of material to keep that wonder alive: Flight of the Navigator; The Last Starfighter; E.T. But despite being primed to believe, I’ve never been able to fully accept any of the countless UFO sightings and reports that have emerged over the decades. I never knew why, only that it all felt … vague. And then I read Nicholson Baker’s lively, informed takedown in New York. Oh, I thought. Duh. Regardless of where you land on the believer spectrum, there’s a lot to like here. (Well, maybe not for the full-throated evangelists like Avi Loeb, who claims skeptics and critics “behave like terrorists.”) Baker’s stance is clear from the get go, but his fiction career serves him well, leavening his skepticism with crackling phrases like “wiggy-sounding.” He’s dismissing, but not dismissive, which can be a tough needle to thread. He reports generously, not simply combing through archives but connecting with many of today’s ufology luminaries. None of that, though, shakes his well-grounded thesis: our entire flying-saucer mythology is derived from Cold War weapons research, carried out via high-tech balloons. Sure, I’ll still wonder about what might be out there—hell, it’s logically impossible to think we’re the only sentient lifeforms around—but until there’s something a little more undeniable, I’ll be living on Baker Street. —PR

Audience Award

The piece our readers loved the most this week is …