This situation has happened to me twice in recent months. I meet a guy around my age (50s, 60s). We talk and find we have things in common. I’m excited to possibly make a new friend.

In both cases, there was no political discussion. I didn’t say anything about politics. And they didn’t either, which was a welcome relief.

These guys should be playing golf and awaiting grandchildren, not defending trans activism or walking in Pride parades.

In both situations, the subject of children eventually came up. I don’t have any. They both did.

That’s when things got tricky. One of them announced he had a gay daughter. And the other informed me that he had a trans son.

Supporting the supporters

In both cases, I nodded my head when they told me this, as if their children's sexuality were a normal thing to bring up, which it is, in my progressive coastal city.

I also saw, in both cases, that these fathers were genuinely supportive of their gay or trans kid. Of course they were. It’s their kids!

I nodded along with them, showing that I was supportive of their kids, too, and that I supported them for supporting their kids.

At the same time, I know from experience that these situations are often more complicated than they appear. Like, are their kids actually gay or trans? Or are they just thinking about it? Or talking about it? Or experimenting with it?

Whenever I hear a parent say his high school or college-age kid is gay or trans, I think to myself: Let's see what the kid tells you in a year or two.

The truth is that it has become almost mandatory for even the most well-adjusted young people to question their sexual preference and gender identity.

They’ve been receiving this messaging for decades now. Their schools, their teachers, and the entire society have told them: “Being gay is great. Being trans is awesome. Why not consider becoming one of those yourself? You might like it. You might discover it’s your true nature.”

But is that accurate? Most people turn out to be heterosexual. So why are our schools and educators so eager to get young people going off in all these different directions?

Why are these people involved in any aspect of a young person’s sexuality?

Forced participation

Another thing I notice: Nobody talks about the toll these situations take on the parents. Having a trans or gay child can be quite a lot to deal with.

It forces parents to concede — at least implicitly — that all this sexual identity talk is a good idea. In effect, it turns them into progressive Democrats.

Also, it’s a lot of stress. Older people didn’t have to navigate sexual identity when they were young. They don’t have any experience with these situations. Most of them just got married and had kids. And some of them didn’t.

But there wasn’t an entire culture war built up around what choices people made. You were free to do whatever. This was America.

Irfan Khan/Getty Images

Gay until graduation

All of this reminds me of a close friend whose only child (a son) came out to her as gay while he was in high school.

Naturally, she supported him. Though at one point she privately said to me, with a sigh, “I guess I’ll never hear the pitter-patter of tiny feet.”

But then, two years later, the son decided he wasn’t gay after all. So all that anguish was in vain.

But then, another year later, the son started dating a trans person!

All of this was quite confusing and difficult for my friend. But of course, she couldn’t say anything or even commiserate with her friends, lest she be labeled a bigot.

Let’s just (not) be friends

It seems unlikely that I’ll ever hang out with either of these two guys I met. They have too much on their plates. And because of their children, they now have a stake in the sexual identity debates.

And this during a time when they were supposed to be letting go of their children. These were supposed to be their “empty nest” years.

They did their duty. They raised good kids. In both of these cases, the parents had put them through college.

These guys should be playing golf and awaiting grandchildren, not defending trans activism or walking in Pride parades.

But fathers love their children. So naturally, they want to help. They’ll do anything they can for their kids.

Grumpier old men

It used to be that older men were expected to become grouchy and conservative in their old age. But even that natural evolution has been subverted.

Now their lives are affected by LGBTQ politics almost as much as their children's — which, I suspect, is exactly how the LGBTQ crowds like it. Anything that disrupts traditional families is all right by them.

Why I'm not worried about AI 'replacing' me

I've been thinking about how often we encounter the word "premium.”

It used to mean something materially better: better leather, better denim, better craftsmanship, richer ingredients, more care. Now it usually means smoother software, cleaner interfaces, fewer inconveniences, more optimization.

I’m not particularly worried about AI replacing meaningful creative work because I suspect it may end up clarifying what creativity actually is.

But in the AI era, the meaning of the word may flip again. When flawless synthetic output becomes infinite and nearly free, reality itself starts becoming premium.

Man vs. machine

I was having lunch with a group of conservative thinkers the other day when the topic of AI came up. After a brief discussion about the impact on the workforce and the broad and possibly revolutionary effects it may bring, someone turned to me and asked how I thought it might impact my work as a writer and photographer.

I said something to the effect of the following.

I am not particularly worried about AI — at least not for myself. For others, definitely. For the world as a whole, yep. But for myself and my work? No.

Why? Because I think AI will have a strangely asymmetrical impact. The more something already resembled machine output — efficient, predictable, frictionless, synthetic — the more vulnerable it is now that actual machines can produce it at scale. But anything trying as hard as possible not to seem machine-made will become more valuable than ever.

For all the photos and videos that were overly surreal or trying to be as smooth and perfect as possible, the jig is up. AI will do it better and easier. There will be no need for glossed-up photos or videos that look unreal and appear like cheap visual candy. Eventually — and we are already seeing it — this style and whole aesthetic will be completely unwanted and thought of as one of the most egregious examples of what is now known as AI slop.

For the cheap writing with no meaning and no purpose, the words that exist only to fill the page, it’s over. It’s the same story for anyone who has spent recent years trying to perfect the art of being a human Wikipedia page without any heart or humanity. All of this stuff will be replaced by AI.

Essentially the skills that are basically humans just attempting to act like, or perform the functions of, computers will be less valuable than ever.

PASCAL PAVANI/AFP/Getty Images

Great divide

Certainly, there will be a great divide, and surely many people will continue to enjoy the AI slop. They will watch the videos on Facebook not knowing or even caring if they're computer-generated. They will listen to AI music and be content, like the driver of the cab I recently took in Italy. There will be people who actually prefer the machine-made over anything human.

But for those of us who value personality, judgment, taste, eccentricity, and genuine presence, all things human will become more valuable than ever.

In a world of infinite fake perfection, the real will become more valuable. The unedited image will become premium. A film photograph is not just an image file floating around a server farm somewhere; it is the physical residue of a real moment. Light literally struck a strip of chemical-coated film and permanently altered it. Someone had to choose the frame, press the shutter, and live with the result.

Proof of life

The faceless information-spewer is finished. Once machines can produce infinite competent text, competence itself becomes cheap. What those who care will seek out instead is the evidence of a particular consciousness. In the age of AI, the most valuable thing a creator can offer is proof that a real human being was here.

I’m not particularly worried about AI replacing meaningful creative work because I suspect it may end up clarifying what creativity actually is. It's not just the domain of painters or novelists but of anyone with the courage to put something of themselves into their work, something that resists the eerie, frictionless perfection of the AI age.

The more we are immersed in that perfection — the more inescapable it becomes — the more people will hunger for signs of actual life — that "handmade" quality of something one human creates for another.

That will be premium.

CS Lewis: Angry atheist surprised by God

Before he became one of the 20th century’s most influential Christian writers, C.S. Lewis was a committed atheist who regarded religion with suspicion, irritation, and eventually contempt.

Christianity seemed to him a relic of humanity’s intellectual childhood — a comforting story for people unable to face reality without divine reassurance.

‘Amiable agnostics will talk cheerfully about “man’s search for God.” ... To me, as I then was, they might as well have talked about the mouse’s search for the cat.’

Return to sender

Lewis’ loss of faith began early. Though raised in a nominally Christian household in Belfast, his childhood belief collapsed after the death of his mother from cancer when he was just 9 years old.

“With my mother’s death,” he later wrote in his memoir, “Surprised by Joy,” “all settled happiness, all that was tranquil and reliable, disappeared from my life.”

Prayer seemed useless. God, if He existed at all, appeared absent and indifferent. Lewis later compared the experience to writing letters to someone who never replied.

As he grew older, his atheism hardened. Immersed in classical literature, philosophy, and modern rationalism, Lewis came to regard Christianity as one mythology among many — no more objectively true than the pagan stories he admired in ancient texts.

At Oxford, he became known among friends as a “foul-mouthed and riotously amusing atheist.” The horrors of the First World War only deepened his disbelief. After surviving trench warfare and seeing death at close range, Lewis later remarked with grim pride: “I never sank so low as to pray.”

Yet even at the height of his atheism, cracks had begun to appear.

Deeper longing

Lewis found himself haunted by experiences that materialism could not easily explain: sudden moments of longing triggered by music, poetry, memory, or beauty. Reading certain books or encountering particular images awakened in him what he later described as an intense, almost painful desire for something beyond ordinary experience.

“An unsatisfied desire,” he wrote, “which is itself more desirable than any other satisfaction. I call it Joy.”

If human beings consistently longed for something no earthly experience could fully satisfy, what did that suggest? Hunger points to food. Thirst points to water. Why should this deeper longing exist at all if reality were ultimately meaningless?

Lewis slowly began to suspect that the longing was not accidental. Just as hunger points to food and thirst to water, this deeper want revealed something essential about human beings. As he would write in “Mere Christianity,” “If I find in myself a desire which no experience in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that I was made for another world.”

He also found that his outrage at injustice itself suggested a moral framework that preceded humanity.

“My argument against God was that the universe seemed so cruel and unjust. But how had I got this idea of just and unjust?”

Washington Post/Getty Images

Kicking and screaming

Lewis did not move suddenly from atheism to Christianity. He resisted all the way, considering himself “the most dejected and reluctant convert in all England.”

“Amiable agnostics will talk cheerfully about ‘man’s search for God,’” he wrote. “To me, as I then was, they might as well have talked about the mouse’s search for the cat.”

Eventually, the chase ended. But having acknowledged God’s existence, Christianity itself remained a stumbling block.

Lewis loved mythology deeply and still regarded the Gospels as one myth among many. The breakthrough came largely through conversations with friends, including J.R.R. Tolkien, who challenged his assumption that myth and truth were opposites.

Christianity, Tolkien argued, was the “true myth”: the story toward which humanity’s myths and legends had always pointed, but one that had entered actual history.

The truth of myth

The idea struck Lewis with enormous force.

Themes that echoed through pagan mythology — sacrifice, death, resurrection, redemption — were not evidence that Christianity was fabricated, Lewis came to believe. They were signs that humanity had been reaching toward the same truth all along.

Soon afterward, while riding in the sidecar of his brother’s motorcycle on the way to a zoo, Lewis realized the final barrier had fallen. “When we set out,” he wrote in “Surprised by Joy,” “I did not believe that Jesus Christ is the Son of God, and when we reached the zoo I did.”

That belief shaped the rest of his life, which he would devote to helping make Christianity intellectually serious and imaginatively alive for millions of readers.

My 6-point plan to make American customer service great again

Whenever I see or hear the phrase "customer service," I have to roll my eyes. Customer service? In the United States? No such thing.

There used to be. I remember it because I experienced it as a customer and I practiced it as a retail staffer.

The unspoken but obvious ethos is: 'The customer is always wrong, and also he is oppressing me, a poor proletariat worker.'

We can get it back, but that requires understanding how we lost it. It also requires laying out the unspoken assumptions that drive the current “the customer is always wrong” attitude.

McDonald’s, Best Buy, Home Depot — sub in your favorite — all of them operate on these unspoken assumptions, and that’s why the “service” at all these places is nonexistent at best and hostile too often.

Service with a stare

First, let’s describe the problem with two anecdotes.

1. I walked into Tractor Supply. I asked the 19-year-old girl slouching against the counter where the kerosene was kept. “If we had any it would be, like ... over on one of those aisles,” she said, waving her hand in a direction.

I said, “Are you able to check your system to find out where and if you have any in stock?”

She responded: “I can’t leave the register.”

That’s not what I asked. A second employee walked me to the aisle after (wait for it) logging into the register and checking the stock list. When I told him about the lazy response from his front-counter worker, he immediately defended her, with no apology: “Yeah, but she’s new.”

2. I went to a “casual dining” restaurant. It was the kind of local place that sells burgers for $19 along with local beer on tap. The waitress took our order, dropped the food on the table, and walked away. There was no silverware. No napkins. No salt and pepper. No plates for the shared dishes. It didn’t even occur to her.

When I asked, “May we have some silverware, please?” she stared at me with that blank look, turned around, got the silverware, and set it down. Yes, I’m saying she gave me the silent treatment; it’s common these days.

Communicating contempt

I’m going to stop at those two stories; they stand in for hundreds of similar transactions over the past 10 years or so. It doesn’t matter if it’s a chain restaurant or a corporate outlet store. Any time the staff are younger than about 40, this is what happens.

Several decades ago, I was a young staffer in my teens and 20s. I worked mall retail, then spent about a dozen years as a busboy, waiter, and barback. From my first job at 15 to my last retail job at 28, I would have been fired on the spot if I had behaved the way those employees did.

Why? Because it’s incompetent. It’s lazy. It’s not doing your job; it’s standing there getting paid while neglecting your work. And worst of all, it communicates contempt for the customer.

How did we get here?

I suspect we got here by the same means that brought us young adults who can’t do arithmetic, can’t write a topic sentence for a paragraph, and can’t sound out the word silhouette. That route can be called “lack of parenting” and “lack of teaching in public school.” Examining that is for a different article.

Whatever the reason, this is where we are today. It’s something we need to fix — and can fix, if we decide to.

Workers of the world ... be polite!

When I was in retail, there was a too-hard bias toward the idea that “the customer is always right.” Too often, staff were expected to tolerate abusive behavior from customers — name-calling, lying to get free food, and so on — while the manager handed them their order for free.

But over the past decade or so, the pendulum hasn’t merely swung back toward protecting workers from abuse. It has swung toward a deeper assumption: that the customer himself is the problem.

Now we’ve reversed it in the other direction. The unspoken but obvious ethos is: “The customer is always wrong, and also he is oppressing me, a poor proletariat worker.”

The Marxist lens of “oppressed/oppressor” has seeped so far into our cultural fabric that restaurants openly admit they pay waiters low wages, then guilt customers into “remembering” to tip. If I had even hinted at that message when I was a waiter, I would have been clocked out and sent home permanently.

Bloomberg/Getty Images

Going off-script

Along with the customer-hostile attitude, modern retail tries to lock down employees’ actions with rigid steps. Maybe it’s fear of liability; maybe it’s not wanting to pay competent managers; maybe it’s something else. But the reason every customer-staffer transaction feels robotic is because it is. Businesses no longer allow staff to exercise judgment. You can hear it when the cashier works hard to recite the script verbatim. You can tell they’re not allowed to think, because if you ask a question the script hasn’t anticipated, they get flustered — and that part isn’t their fault.

Compare today with this McDonald’s training video from 1992.

- YouTube

First, marvel at how much emphasis they put on making sure employees are pleasant to customers.

But more surprising, the trainer in the video explicitly encourages staff members to use their own judgment and alter what they say based on context. That happens around the 1:47 mark: “I was talking to [an employee] a little bit earlier, and he said that he was feeling really stiff having to say, ‘Welcome to McDonald’s, welcome to McDonald’s,’ over and over again,” she said. “So I told him what we tell our people all the time: Say what feels natural. But say it with a warm, sincere smile.”

Customer feedback

Sound crazy? It used to be normal. And we can bring it back if we make that choice. Customer-employee interactions don’t have to be fraught and robotic; the business world chose this.

Here are some guidelines every retail establishment should return to, none of which cost a single cent:

Make eye contact with every customer who approaches you.
Greet every customer, and do it pleasantly.
Prepare your workstation before customers arrive. Put down your phone; that’s not for work time. Think like a customer and figure out what they’ll need.
Do not write verbatim scripts for employees. Walk them through customer service basics and answer their questions. Act it out. Role-play.
Encourage employees to use reasonable discretion. Tone and personality vary from person to person; successful customer service depends on adapting to the person in front of you.
If you don’t trust your staff to have the wiggle room to modify the exact words they use with customers, you’re either hiring bad people or you don’t know how to run a business. If that’s the case, find another trade.

This is a taller order for employers in 2026, because it’s sadly true that a large percentage of young staff today are badly socialized — or not socialized at all. Employers shouldn’t have to do what parents failed to do, but they’re going to have to if they care about the quality of their service. Good luck.

Gone in 60 seconds: How high-tech thieves can steal your car

For years, Americans were told newer cars would be harder to steal.

Smarter security and keyless entry were supposed to usher in a new era for car owners. Instead, car theft is becoming faster, quieter, and far more sophisticated.

Consumers shouldn’t have to rely on 1990s anti-theft devices to protect vehicles loaded with modern technology — but that's where we've arrived.

Federal prosecutors in Washington, D.C., recently charged six people tied to an international theft ring accused of stealing more than 100 vehicles in the D.C. area.

No smash and grab

It's how they did it that should make us all concerned: a simple handheld device that can reportedly program a new key fob directly into a vehicle’s system — sometimes in about a minute.

No broken window, no smashed ignition, no dramatic Hollywood-style escape.

Just unlock the vehicle, program a key, and drive away.

Handheld device

According to prosecutors, the group used a device known as an Autel to bypass vehicle security systems and generate working keys on the spot. These are tools designed for locksmiths and dealerships, but criminals are now using them to steal cars with alarming speed.

And this wasn’t random street crime.

Investigators say stolen vehicles were moved into parking garages and other “cool-off” locations where VIN numbers were altered, tracking systems disabled, and identifying information changed before the cars were shipped overseas — often hidden inside containers labeled as furniture.

The Autel MaxIM KM100 is commercially available online for a few hundred dollars. It’s small enough to fit in one hand and reportedly works on hundreds of vehicle models.

Automakers spent years selling convenience features as progress. But every layer of convenience also creates another possible vulnerability — something that criminals figured out quickly.

NurPhoto/Getty Images

Daily drivers

The vehicles targeted in this case included mainstream models like Chevrolet Camaros, Corvettes, and Honda Civics — not rare exotics sitting behind gated mansions. This isn’t just a luxury-car problem anymore. It’s becoming a mainstream problem tied directly to how modern vehicles are designed.

When vehicles become easier to access electronically and harder to track once they disappear, organized crime adapts fast. And investigators believe this case may only expose part of a much larger network.

So what actually works now? Ironically, some of the best protections are old-school.

Police departments are once again recommending steering wheel locks and Faraday pouches because modern theft methods depend on speed. A visible steering wheel lock adds time and attention — two things thieves don’t want.

Consumers shouldn’t have to rely on 1990s anti-theft devices to protect vehicles loaded with modern technology — but that's where we've arrived.

Automakers have raced to add more connected features, more apps, and more digital access points. Security hasn’t always kept pace, and now the industry is dealing with the consequences.

There’s also a growing debate over devices like the Autel system itself. These tools absolutely serve legitimate purposes for repair shops and locksmiths. But critics argue there are too few restrictions on who can buy them and how they’re used.

That conversation is only going to get louder as these thefts continue spreading.

The next time you park your vehicle, the real question may not be whether someone can break into it.

It’s whether he can simply program his way in.

More Brewpubs And Museums Won’t Revive Cities Like Dallas, But Better Schools And More Cops Will

Dallasites need to focus on good schools, low crime, cheaper housing, and low taxes before culture and lifestyle.

Veteran conservative blogger sounds alarm about 'Seductive AI'

It doesn’t take a genius to manipulate the population. It just takes some mid-level AI chatbots with a mean streak.

That thought haunted Glenn Reynolds, the author of the new book “Seductive AI.” The tome doesn’t look to a near future in which artificial intelligence has a profound impact on our lives and culture.

'The media actually had shame back then. You could browbeat them into correcting [mistakes].'

He sees its disruptive potential in the here and now.

Digital Don Juan

“There’s no reason why AI couldn’t be designed to manipulate human beings,” says Reynolds, known for his decades-old Instapundit.com website. “Raw brain power isn’t the best way to do it.”

Yes, the book explores the literal seductive power of an AI-powered device, whether an app, software program, or, eventually, a life-size sexbot coming to a Best Buy near you.

It also shares how manipulative AI can already be and some possible guardrails to prevent it from harming us.

Pop culture already warned us about AI’s seductive power. Think 2013’s “Her,” starring Joaquin Phoenix as a lonely man who falls for a bot voiced by Scarlett Johansson. Or even “The Big Bang Theory,” when the awkward Raj (Kunal Nayyar) falls in love with his Siri device.

“Seductive AI in the crudest sense … is looking more realistic as time passes,” Reynolds says. “You’ve seen these stories. … Women marrying their AI boyfriends. There’s just enough of that out there. You can’t dismiss it as ridiculous.”

The case of the 14-year-old Florida boy who took his own life after sharing suicidal thoughts with an AI bot named after “Game of Thrones” character Daenerys Targaryen is hard to forget.

Blind faith

And it could soon get worse.

“One of my recurring themes in the book … year after year, the machines get better and people stay about the same,” he says, a scary thought given the technological progress we have already seen. “People’s ability to see through this stuff is a flat line.”

Humanity’s wobbly mental health status makes “Seductive AI” fears more profound.

“There’s a large number of people who are losing contact with objective reality. It’s encouraged by social media and a lot of machine affirmation. … The various AI chatbots will basically tell you how smart you are,” he says.

Even some terrible ideas, when fed into an AI bot, will spit back encouraging banter.

“All these platforms … not just the AI ones, foster engagement by pushing various emotions — fear, hatred, sometimes love,” he says.

Sunset Boulevard/Getty Images

The bot stops here

“Seductive AI" offers some possible guardrails, like suggesting that AI firms have a fiduciary duty to the person impacted by their expertise. That could allow people to sue if the bot’s behavior is in breach of that contract.

“The company producing the entity should be held liable for any breaches, exactly as if they had been made by a human employee acting for the company itself,” he writes in the book.

Reynolds says mainstream media outlets have done their part to promote the upside of AI, like fawning press over the rise of self-driving cars.

“Every single story you read in the automotive press was positive,” he says, downplaying the potential for fatal accident. “AI stuff was all super positive for a while. ... Now that seems to have faded.”

The Blogfather

Reynolds previously wrote “The Social Media Upheaval” (2019) and “An Army of Davids: How Markets and Technology Empower Ordinary People to Beat Big Media, Big Government, and Other Goliaths” (2007).

He’s best known in conservative circles for Instapundit.com, an old-school site with constantly updated links to the latest news and commentary. He was part of the early blogging wave that challenged mainstream media, with some stunning successes. In fact, he was so influential on other DIY pundits that he earned the nickname the Blogfather.

“The media actually had shame back then,” he says. “You could browbeat them into correcting [mistakes].” Take Dan Rather’s National Guard story, in which the CBS anchor claimed President George W. Bush shirked his duties based on manufactured evidence. The story might have stood unchallenged if not for several citizen journalists like the team behind Powerlineblog.com.

A simpler time

And he has his “beefs” with the current right-leaning media landscape. He recalls a simpler time in the digital arena.

“The period of 2004 to 2008 was kind of a golden age of independent media, before the walled gardens of Facebook and other platforms took over,” he says. It helped that journalists took criticism more seriously at the time.

The early blogging days also saw friendlier ties between left- and right-leaning bloggers. Now, that sense of brotherhood is gone, he says.

“It’s hard to have a civil discussion about anything now,” he says. “It’s a very unhealthy environment.”

As for his latest project, he admits the alluring nature of this technology boils down to something elemental.

“Yes, AI is extremely useful,” he says. “That’s another way of being seductive.”

Why American culture still rules the world — and always will

The chorus has become deafening.

Op-ed pages and policy journals are saturated with self-appointed sages warning us that American soft power is finished, kaput, buried under the weight of Trumpism, tariffs, and the dismantling of USAID.

Soft power emerges from cultures people want to copy, and no teenager on earth is modeling himself on Xi Jinping Thought.

Foreign Policy’s Stephen Walt recently joined the funeral procession, lamenting that the Trump administration holds nothing but contempt for what his late colleague Joseph Nye called the power of attraction. Walt insists that hard power without soft power leaves America looking like Putin's Russia, with considerable muscle and all the magnetism of a DMV waiting room.

Scrambled eggheads

Walt writes from Cambridge, Massachusetts, where the consensus among the faculty lounge crowd is that Trump has dropped the soft-power crown — only to have Beijing pick it up. What utter nonsense. The lounge, perched so high in the ivory tower, has lost sight of the actual world below.

I came of age in Ireland in the early 2000s, where my brother and I consumed inordinate amounts of American television. We watched "Prison Break" religiously on Network 2, arguing about whether Michael or Lincoln was the smarter sibling. We debated whether Jack Bauer could plausibly go that long without sleeping. We watched "Entourage" and fought over whether Ari Gold was a maverick or a monster. We were far too young for any of it, but my parents, overworked and underpaid, couldn’t keep the remote out of our tiny hands.

We saved up to buy Abercrombie shirts that cost three times as much as they did in New Jersey. We learned American slang from "Friends" reruns and pretended we understood Thanksgiving. My cousin in Cork wore a Yankees cap for two years before learning baseball existed. The local chipper added "curly fries" to the menu because someone had seen them on a sitcom. American culture was the water we swam in, repeatedly and without hesitation.

CBS Photo Archive/Getty Images

Swift diplomacy

Twenty-five years after my Abercrombie phase, American culture still dictates global taste. Kids in Uganda quote Kendrick Lamar. Teens in Jakarta can't get enough of the UFC. The films Mumbai produces borrow from Christopher Nolan; the films Seoul produces dream of Oscars in Los Angeles.

Taylor Swift's Eras Tour pulled crowds in Tokyo, Sydney, Buenos Aires, and Singapore that no homegrown artist could ever muster. Netflix dominates streaming in 190 countries. Apple's logo carries more cachet in a Vietnamese teenager's pocket than any flag. American universities, despite their obvious failings, still receive applications from every corner of the planet, including from the children of the Chinese officials who publicly denounce them.

Yes, K-pop had a moment. BTS sold out arenas, "Gangnam Style" broke YouTube, and commentators declared a new cultural pole emerging from Seoul. Then the moment passed. "Squid Game" spawned imitators rather than a movement. South Korean culture spreads wide and runs shallow. It’s a garnish, a starter at best, but it never was and never will be the main course.

China viral

China presents the more entertaining case study. Beijing spends billions of dollars annually trying to manufacture soft power, opening Confucius Institutes, funding film studios, broadcasting CGTN into hotel rooms, where nobody watches. What did succeed was TikTok, a platform that broke through by hiding its Chinese origins and amplifying American content.

When was the last time a Chinese film conquered a multiplex in Berlin or Buenos Aires? When did a Chinese musician headline a festival in Mexico City? What Walt and the credentialed class miss is that soft power cannot be bought through state subsidy or willed into existence by Politburo memo. It emerges from cultures people want to copy, and no teenager on earth is modeling himself on Xi Jinping Thought.

If anyone deserves the soft power obituary, it's the country I know all too well.

London falling

Britain once exported culture by the truckload. Now it sends a parcel here and there.

The last British band to crack American consciousness was Coldplay, and even that is now like ancient history. British television still produces excellent dramas, watched by fewer Americans every year. The royal family generates tabloid fodder rather than genuine fascination, and the tabloids themselves are dying.

British fashion has lost its swagger, with London Fashion Week now an afterthought to Paris and Milan. British music charts are dominated by American acts, including country music acts.

No teenager in Lima or Lisbon is dreaming of a steak and kidney pie, while plenty are queuing for the new Shake Shack. No kid of sound mind in Manila is begging for a Cornish pasty, but many are heading to their local In-N-Out for a quick fix. American food, like American everything else, travels. British food sits at home, where it belongs.

Trump-proof

American soft power survives and even thrives in the Trump era for an unsexy reason that academics struggle to accept. It doesn't run on policy. It never has and never will. Instead, it runs on creativity, scale, language, and capital, all of which remain concentrated in American hands and American servers.

The presidency changes every four or eight years. Silicon Valley does not. The English language does not. American universities, American sports, American music, American food chains, and American technology platforms form an ecosystem so vast and self-replenishing that no single administration can dismantle it.

Walt's pessimism reflects a left-leaning gripe masquerading as a global issue. A teenager in Helsinki watching "Euphoria" on his iPhone, wearing Air Jordans, sipping a Coke, and biting into a Big Mac isn't thinking about China, the U.K., or any supposed contender. America's grip on the global imagination was never a government project. The funeral notices keep arriving, but the eulogies sound like the musings of people who hear "Drake" and picture a duck.

Big Brother on the road: Backlash grows against license plate surveillance

Every time you drive through an intersection, pass a police cruiser, or pull into a parking lot, there’s a growing chance your vehicle is being logged into a database you never agreed to join.

Across the country, cities are rapidly expanding automated license plate reader systems — networks of cameras that record where vehicles travel, when they appear, and increasingly, what makes them unique.

The San Jose lawsuit argues that vehicle tracking data can already be shared across jurisdictions and searched broadly.

Whose 'safety'?

Much of the backlash now centers on Flock Safety, the largest automated license plate reader company in the United States. The company says its cameras operate in more than 5,000 communities, connect to over 4,800 law enforcement agencies across 49 states, and process more than 20 billion license plate reads every month.

Supporters call it a powerful crime-fighting tool.

Critics see the foundation of a nationwide vehicle surveillance network.

And now the legal fight is escalating.

In San Jose, California, residents and the Institute for Justice have filed a federal lawsuit challenging the city’s massive automated license plate reader program, arguing that constant vehicle tracking without a warrant violates the Fourth Amendment.

San Jose deployed nearly 500 cameras across the city, creating one of the largest systems in the country. These cameras do far more than capture license plates. They can log vehicle color, make, model, bumper stickers, roof racks, and other identifying details. Over time, that creates a searchable history of a driver’s movements and routines.

According to the lawsuit, thousands of government employees may be able to access portions of that data.

Supporters argue these systems help solve crimes and recover stolen vehicles. Critics argue the scale changes the equation entirely. A few cameras targeting specific criminal investigations is one thing. Constant mass collection of vehicle data is something very different.

That distinction is beginning to resonate with the public.

Bipartisan backlash

In Pine Plains, New York, residents erupted after discovering plans to install Flock Safety cameras without public approval. Town meetings quickly turned contentious after reports surfaced that officials had tried to minimize public attention around the rollout. Residents demanded answers, and eventually the proposal collapsed under public pressure.

What’s striking is that Pine Plains is a town of only about 2,200 people.

This is no longer just a debate happening in large cities with major crime problems. Smaller communities are beginning to push back too.

And the backlash is becoming bipartisan.

Conservative-led states including Montana, Idaho, and Arkansas have recently enacted laws restricting how governments can access or retain certain surveillance data. At the same time, Democratic-led cities in states including Colorado, Illinois, Massachusetts, New York, Texas, and Washington have terminated or reconsidered contracts with Flock Safety over privacy concerns.

No context

The concern goes beyond ordinary policing.

Civil liberties groups like the ACLU argue that once large-scale tracking systems exist, the data can easily be shared across agencies and repurposed far beyond the original justification. Reports have already surfaced showing local agencies conducting searches connected to federal immigration enforcement requests.

That’s where the conversation changes.

Law enforcement requires judgment. Context matters. Algorithms don’t understand context — they simply record and flag behavior mechanically.

And modern automatic license plate reader systems do far more than issue tickets.

Over time, they can reveal where people work, worship, shop, protest, or whom they regularly associate with. Once collected, that information rarely stays confined to one agency or one purpose.

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Court fight

The San Jose lawsuit argues that vehicle tracking data can already be shared across jurisdictions and searched broadly. Privacy advocates worry that such systems could eventually be used for purposes far beyond local policing.

That’s why the court fight matters.

If courts side with cities, expect rapid expansion: more cameras, more interconnected databases, and broader information sharing between agencies.

If courts push back, it could force lawmakers and cities to rethink how these systems operate — or whether they should operate at this scale at all.

Most Americans support law enforcement and want safer communities. But they also expect constitutional protections to keep pace with technology.

Right now, many residents feel those protections are lagging badly behind.

Cities are deploying powerful surveillance systems first and answering questions later. Oversight remains inconsistent, and public transparency is often limited.

That’s fueling distrust even among people who might otherwise support the technology.

I brake for mistakes

There’s also a practical problem policymakers rarely acknowledge: These systems are not infallible.

Databases can be hacked. Searches can be misused. False matches happen. And when systems scale rapidly, those risks scale with them.

Several lawsuits around the country already involve drivers who were stopped or investigated after incorrect plate matches or flawed data.

In Europe, camera-based enforcement has already expanded well beyond speeding tickets. Cities in the United Kingdom now use extensive automated camera systems tied to congestion charges, low-emissions zones, and traffic enforcement programs. Critics warn that once these systems become normalized, their use tends to expand.

Tracking the trackers

Expect more legal challenges ahead.

Expect more public fights at city council meetings.

And expect this issue to move increasingly into national politics as more Americans realize how much vehicle tracking technology has quietly expanded.

At its core, this debate is no longer just about traffic cameras or stolen cars.

It’s about whether Americans are comfortable living in a country where their movements on public roads can be continuously logged, stored, and searched without a warrant.

More and more people are starting to decide they aren’t.

Rental car place ‘lose’ your reservation? Next time take the bus

I got off the plane in Grand Rapids, Michigan, took my bag from the carousel, exited the terminal through the sliding doors, and headed past the shuttle stop toward the parking garage. So far everything had gone as smoothly as modern air travel can.

Then I got to the Enterprise car rental desk.

If you can’t rely on a confirmed reservation for a car, what are we even doing here?

The young man at the desk was friendly, although he offered some surprising news concerning the transportation I’d reserved just the night before.

“We don’t have a car for you.”

Futile Enterprise

I asked him why, exactly, mentioning the confirmation email I had on my phone. He told me that they simply didn’t have any more cars and that the system was messed up and that he was sorry for the inconvenience and that the soonest I might — key word being might — be able to get one would be 10 p.m. the following evening.

Not great.

I left, pulled up Google on my phone, and found another Enterprise location in another part of the city. I made a reservation for a few hours later and received another confirmation email. Just to be thorough, I then called up the branch to make sure they did indeed have a car for me.

They didn’t.

It was the same conversation as before, but this time the worker told me they wouldn’t have a car for two days. He apologized for the inconvenience, a word I have to admit I peevishly found inadequate for my current dilemma. But then, I had just flown from Milan to Chicago and Chicago to Grand Rapids — after 23 hours without sleep — and so was uncommonly eager to get to my final destination. Which, even should I procure a car, would entail a good four hour’s drive.

What’s the deal?

There is a “Seinfeld” bit about this. What’s the point of the reservation if you can’t fulfill the reservation?

Seinfeld, of course, does the bit very funny. But it’s not really so funny, or at least it’s not so funny when you are the one in the midst of trying to claim a car reservation that apparently can’t be filled. Renting a car to get to the airport hadn’t been a problem; why was it impossible now that I wanted to go home?

I sat there wondering what I should do.

I thought, do I stay the night in a hotel in the hope of getting my hands on a car the next day? No, I don’t want to waste the money. Do I call my wife and ask her to pile all three kids in the car, drive four hours down to pick me up, and then drive four hours back home again? Absolutely not. That would be hell for her, and she does more than enough.

I sat there rather irritated at the situation I found myself in. I have had my fair share of detours when on the road, sure. Sometimes travel plans change and you have to adapt. But if you can’t rely on a confirmed reservation for a car, what are we even doing here?

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Let it ride

So I thought and thought, and I remembered that buses exist.

I hadn’t taken one in years, but it turned out they hadn't gone the way of free checked bags and wearing actual pants on flights. Sure, it’s worse than a rental car, but it might get the job done. So I checked the schedule, found my route, and bought a non-refundable ticket for $54.

The bus to St. Ignace wasn’t terribly full Tuesday afternoon. There were only a few of us riding the great steel chariot north. Some old people, a couple of guys in worn jeans and construction boots, and a young guy — a college student — heading back to school at Michigan Tech in Houghton.

He brought a heavy backpack, a suitcase, and a set of golf clubs. He told me that after getting to St. Ignace, he would transfer to another bus that would take him west across the Upper Peninsula and up into the Keweenaw toward Houghton. He said the bus would arrive in Houghton at 6:30 a.m., making his trip north more than 16 hours long.

While detailing his epic journey, he said, “It’s OK, it builds character.”

I said, “Yes, it does.”

He said, “Plus, I don’t have any money.”

I said, “Neither did I,” remembering the days I used to ride the bus.

Just the ticket

Sitting there on that stiff and uncomfortable seat I recalled those many trips. Coming back from college and going back again. Taking the Megabus when I had no money in my 20s. They always advertised it as having fares as low as $1. For some reason, I never found those tickets.

I thought of riding the bus to Granada in Spain with my wife. We brought egg salad sandwiches wrapped in tin foil. I remembered taking an overnight bus from Eilat to Haifa in Israel. It was so long, but it was so cheap, and I was too.

Our bus finally pulled into the Walmart parking lot — the makeshift bus stop in our little town — at 8:41 p.m. Tuesday night. My wife and kids were there waiting for me in our gray Honda. The kids were wearing their pajamas and all ready for bed. The failure of the rental car companies to do their job was annoying. The bus ride wasn’t terribly comfortable. The final leg of my trip home took longer than I had anticipated. But I didn’t really care once I stepped off the bus and into the Walmart parking lot.

I made it home, and it’s a funny little story (maybe “Seinfeld” had the right idea), and what’s life without those?