Satan struts at Paris Fashion Week — here are the 3 most demonic designers



At first I thought I was watching scenes from a horror movie.

While I take great pains to keep my algorithm centered on funny cats and clean-eating recipes, a disturbing coming attraction somehow managed to worm its way through.

Matières Fécales translates to ‘Fecal Matter,’ which was the brand’s original name before the designers translated it into the French language to be more ‘glamorous.’

How else to explain these gaunt, dead-eyed figures shambling down a barren path, as enraptured throngs gazed at them from the shadows below?

Just as I was about to check IMDb for a new adaptation of Dante’s “Inferno,” it dawned on me: This hell was no nightmarish Hollywood vision, but something far worse: Paris Fashion Week.

Diabolical by design

Fashion has always been about self-expression, but in 2026, the identities to be expressed are apparently satanic affiliations and allegiance to darkness. We’ve seen similar stunts in the music industry, as many popular artists infuse witchcraft, occultism, and demonic imagery into concerts and music videos less concerned with entertaining than mounting grandiose spectacles of diabolical pageantry.

Like their pop peers, some of today’s most acclaimed designers don’t even attempt to mask their affinities for the infernal, regardless of what revolting headlines dominate our news feeds. The battle for the soul of the culture marches on — straight down the catwalk.

With that, let us gawk at this year’s most harrowing collections, progressing from haunting to pure devilry.

3. Noir Kei Ninomiya

The bronze medal for the most hell-worthy collection goes to Japanese women's wear label Noir Kei Ninomiya, founded in 2012 by designer Kei Ninomiya.

Lovingly described by Vogue Runway as “gloom” made “tangible,” Ninomiya’s 2026 collection is celebrated for its darkly poetic, gothic romance feel. Even the soundtrack is praised for being “the aural equivalent of a nervous breakdown.”

Vogue must be drinking the same Kool-Aid as the film critics calling Emerald Fennell’s blasphemous “Wuthering Heights” adaptation a romance. No amount of tulle or lace can hide either’s attempt to glamorize madness.

Peter White/Stephane de Sakutin | Getty Images

Peter White/Stephane de Sakutin | Getty Images

Fashion authorities will call Ninomiya’s work sculpturally layered, ethereal, and avant-garde. But those who have been spared the curse of elitism will see it as it truly is: bondage, animalistic horror, and a disturbing fascination with morbidity.

2. Enfants Riches Déprimés

Silver goes to Henri Alexander Levy, whose brand Enfants Riches Déprimés opened its show by parading none other than the Antichrist Superstar himself — the self-described “god of f**k” — Marilyn Manson down a fittingly icy runway. If the collection’s dark, underground aesthetic didn’t already make the designer’s sensibilities clear, Manson — the Bible-burning, crucifixion-simulating shock rocker — opening the show in full gothic makeup surely did.

But if that wasn’t convincing enough, the performance also included a nearly nude model bound and chained to an obsidian statue of a man’s head in a theatrical exaltation of bondage, captivity, and ritualistic sacrifice.

Antoine Flament/Getty Images


Peter White / Getty Images

Many fashion designers inanely describe their work as anti-elite or anti-capitalist, but not Levy. He smugly embraces privilege. “No pieces are alike and everything is limited. I have no interest in making affordable pieces for the masses,” he once told the Guardian.

And yet, Enfants Riches Déprimés directly translates to “Depressed Rich Kids,” which was apparently inspired by the “absurd entitlement” of the child elites Levy met in rehab as an adolescent.

A luxury brand that mocks luxury? I’m not buying it. Perhaps a strange loophole to justify one’s perverse proclivities, which apparently include a cashmere noose. “If you were going to kill yourself, wouldn’t you want to do it with a $7,000 cashmere noose?” the self-described nihilistic designer once said.

Suddenly his partnership with Manson makes sense.

1. Matières Fécales

But the gold medal for this year’s most grotesque collection inarguably goes to Matières Fécales — a provocative Paris-based fashion label founded in 2025 by Canadian duo Hannah Rose Dalton and Steven Raj Bhaskaran.

Matières Fécales translates to “Fecal Matter,” which was the brand’s original name before the designers translated it into the French language to be more “glamorous.”

I’ve cocked my head, squinted my eyes, and abandoned everything I know about aesthetics. If any glamour is to be found in the clothing itself, it is certainly eclipsed by deliberate morbidity, but assess the amalgamation of body horror prosthetics, vampiric ensembles, and bloodstained opulence for yourself.

Victor Virgile/Getty Images

Victor Virgile/Getty Images

The designers behind Matières Fécales claim this collection, which they dubbed “the One Percent,” is a sharp satirical criticism of elite wealth, power corruption, and inequality.

“This story of power comes to an end, and as we have seen in history time after time, too much power can eclipse our humanity. Perhaps that’s why we aren’t born gods,” the ghoulish duo wrote in their show notes.

We’ve heard similar justifications from many an elite “artist.” They insist their macabre spectacles are merely critiques of the very darkness they put on display. But it is a farce. No serious person publicly condemns his own coterie.

The show itself featured a ritualistic procession of distorted elite caricatures and models in black, hooded robes in a cult-like circular formation. That is hardly the work of detached satire.

Matières Fécales is both a celebration of and an attempt to normalize objective evil. Like Sam Smith’s devil-horned “Unholy” ritual at the 2023 Grammys and Lil Nas X’s lap dance with Satan in “Montero” — both justified as artistic expression and symbolic critique — “the One Percent” is a smirking confession of demonic allegiance packaged as an avant-garde display of irony.

RELATED: Sabrina Carpenter: Another Disney darling gone to the devil?

Mitch Haaseth/Kevin Mazur/Getty Images

The devil wears couture

Romanticizing darkness — particularly in high-fashion society — can seem of little consequence to normal folk. The bizarre appetites of the fashion elite rarely spill over into our mundane world.

And yet, there is a price to pay any time something pure — in this case, beauty and creativity — is tainted with darkness. The nature of evil is to beget more of itself. Darkness cannot respect the boundaries of a runway. It must slither its way elsewhere.

Some of you may recall the Balenciaga scandal of 2022. The high-fashion brand known for oversize silhouettes and its former campaigns with Ye (formerly known as Kanye West) found itself in scalding water for two of its holiday advertisements.

One campaign included young children posing with teddy bear handbags featuring bondage-style leather harnesses, spiked collars, and other BDSM-inspired accessories — an unapologetic participation in the epidemic of sexualizing children.

The second campaign only deepened the controversy. Handbags were staged on desks beside printed documents that included excerpts from the 2008 U.S. Supreme Court case United States v. Williams, which addressed the constitutionality of laws prohibiting the solicitation and distribution of child pornography.

Balenciaga didn’t start out facilitating the sexualization of children, but compromise by compromise, it eventually landed there. Embrace darkness, even a little bit, and it will eventually consume you, and then you will consume others. This has been the pattern since the garden, the serpent, and the apple.

Luciferian roots

The fashion world has long tolerated evil — especially if it serves its purpose. Chanel founder Coco Chanel collaborated with the Nazis. Many “luxury” brands come to life in sweatshops — some through the small hands of child laborers.

Every year, models starve themselves, sometimes with fatal consequences, only to be a glorified mannequin for a designer who cares only about how far their cheekbones jut out. Parents rent out their children to modeling agencies, knowing full well the risks to their physical and psychological well-being.

Few can deny the avarice, vanity, and lust at the heart of the fashion industry. But how many can admit that what skulked down Paris’ runways this season was even darker than those deadly sins? It is the worship of that which is hideous, perverted, and disturbing to the intact human soul.

The illicit marriage of beauty and darkness has Luciferian roots. We cannot forget that the most beautiful angel became the great eater of souls.

When these designers promenade their dark creations down the runway, they are telling us with whom they are aligned. They may not even know to whom they bow, just as many satanists deny the existence of Satan. It makes no difference in the end.

But I’m almost grateful for these infernal collections. Let what has long festered on the inside of the elite world manifest itself externally on runways — or stages or screens or red carpets or wherever there are eyes to see. Permit the masses to behold what binds the hearts of the fashion, art, entertainment, and political worlds together. If the spiritual horror becomes tangible, perhaps they will then choose the light.

5 steps to reset your body's clock to God's natural design



Unless you live in Arizona — one of the few places that skip the ritual — you’re probably feeling it this week.

The curse of daylight saving time.

Even sitting in the shade exposes your body to light far stronger and more natural than indoor lighting. Our bodies need bright days — and dark nights — to stay in rhythm.

That groggy, slightly awful feeling on Monday morning wasn’t in your head. Research has linked the shift to increases in car accidents, workplace injuries, and even heart attacks in the days that follow. No bueno.

But the bigger problem may not be the clock change.

It’s that modern life has pulled us away from the natural rhythm our bodies were designed to follow.

Because the truth is simple: Your body runs on sunlight — not the clock on the wall.

The God-given clock inside you

Nearly every organ in the human body operates on an internal timing system.

This biological cycle — known as circadian rhythm — follows roughly a 24-hour pattern tied to the rising and setting of the sun.

For most of human history, that rhythm governed daily life.

  1. The sun rose.
  2. People woke up.
  3. The day unfolded in natural light.
  4. Night fell, and darkness signaled the body to wind down.

Then electric lights arrived. And screens. And climate-controlled buildings where many of us spend nearly the entire day indoors.

And the signals that once kept our internal clocks synchronized with the natural world faded away.

The result? Many researchers now believe modern humans are living in a constant state of circadian disruption.

And that disruption may affect far more than sleep.

This isn’t new science, by the way (info links coming below). But because the solution is simple, free, and impossible to turn into a pill — and because most physicians receive no training in it — many people have never heard about it.

That is finally starting to change.

The circadian rule

The principle behind circadian health is remarkably simple: The more your daily life aligns with the sun’s natural rhythm, the better your body functions.

The more you fight that rhythm, the more your health eventually pays the price.

This isn’t mystical new age nature worship. It’s biology.

God created your eyes with specialized receptors that detect different wavelengths of light. Those signals travel directly to the brain, triggering hormonal changes that regulate:

  • Alertness;
  • Sleep;
  • Metabolism;
  • Mood; and
  • Immune function.

Light literally tells your body what time it is.

Which means the kind of light you see — and when you see it — matters more than most people realize.

A simple daily light routine

You don’t need to overhaul your life to benefit from circadian alignment. Start with something simple. (And remember, lose the sunglasses!)

1. Sunrise — the most important light of the day

First morning light offers your body perhaps the most powerful circadian signal.

Sunrise light contains a high concentration of red wavelengths. When this light enters your eyes, those receptors God designed at the back of your retina go to work, signaling to your brain that the day has begun. That signal triggers a cascade of hormonal changes:

  • Cortisol rises, helping you wake up and feel alert.
  • Your internal clock starts the day’s metabolic rhythm.
  • And about 12 hours later, your body begins preparing to release melatonin — the hormone that helps you fall asleep.

In other words, morning light sets the schedule for the entire day.

Try this: Greet the sun.

  • Go outside for 15-20 minutes near sunrise(no sunglasses, or any glasses or contacts, if possible).
  • You don’t need to stare at the sun — just let your eyes take in the morning sky (even on cloudy days, the circadian signal is still there).
  • I like to listen to a Bible passage and meditate on the beauty He created around me.

2. The morning UVA window

About an hour after sunrise, another important type of light becomes more prominent — UVA light.

Unlike the stronger UVB light that peaks later in the day, UVA light is gentler but still biologically powerful. Research suggests morning UVA exposure helps:

  • Support hormone balance;
  • Improve mood and energy (much like good food does);
  • Improve gut microbiome; and
  • Prepare the skin for stronger sunlight later in the day.

Try this: Take a morning sun walk.

  • Take a 20-to-30-minute walk outdoors roughly an hour after sunrise.
  • Let your eyes and skin soak in the natural light (again, no glasses).

3. The midday vitamin D window

So you’ve been out twice today, once at sunrise and then for a “UVA walk” — and you might be congratulating yourself on getting some vitamin D.

But you actually didn’t get any yet.

The only time your body can naturally produce vitamin D is when your skin absorbs UVB light, which happens midday.

This varies greatly depending on time of year and location — winter offers a far shorter window if any at all, and you get more UVB the closer you are to the equator. Here in the U.S., if you’re not in a southern border state, you may not have any UVB for a few mid-winter weeks.

But midday sunbathing is the only natural way your body can produce vitamin D and all its related metabolites, which are not part of your vitamin D supplement. (It’s a shame modern medicine has so effectively terrorized people from even going outside midday.)

Actual sunbathing, where you minimize clothing and maximize exposure, should be done only after being out in the earlier morning light, which as mentioned primes your skin for the stronger rays.

Note that sunscreen defeats the purpose of this and is not needed, if you start with just a few minutes (less than five) and very gradually increase your daily exposure. When exposure builds gradually, the skin develops what researchers call a “solar callus” (the rest of us call it a tan).

This is how to be sunburn-proof.

Try this: Get direct midday sun.

  • After a few days of increasing your morning sun time, take your lunch outside for a few days.
  • Spring is a great time to start this because the UV light is more gentle than it will be in summer.
  • Get the MyCircadian or Circadian app to help you know when UVB light is available in your area.

4. Bright daylight throughout the day

Sunlight isn’t just one thing.

It’s a spectrum. A rainbow of different colored light. More red early and late in the day, more blue midday, and every hue in between, all of which send different signals to your body’s internal clock.

Which leads to a surprisingly simple piece of advice: Spend more time outside.

Even sitting in the shade exposes your body to light far stronger and more natural than indoor lighting. Our bodies need bright days — and dark nights — to stay in rhythm.

Be outside as often as you can.

Try this: Take regular sun breaks.

  • People used to take a smoke break at work — take a sun break.
  • Every time you get up to use the bathroom or grab a drink or whatever, spend an extra 60 seconds to pop outside.
  • Look for ways to take your inside tasks outside.
  • Take meetings and calls outside.
  • Take your laptop outside.
  • Eat meals or snacks outside.
  • Take a book outside.
  • And if you must scroll on your phone — do it outside.

5. Sunset — your body's evening signal

Just as sunrise tells your body the day is beginning, sunset helps confirm that it’s ending. The warm light of dusk signals the approach of nighttime.

After sunset, however, modern life introduces a problem — bright artificial light.

Screens, LED lighting, and overhead lights emit strong blue wavelengths that can confuse your circadian system.

To your brain, that blue light looks like midday sunlight, which means the body delays melatonin production — making sleep harder.

Try this: Watch the sunset and dim the lights.

  • Spend 5-10 minutes outside at sunset enjoying God’s original work of art — a new one every night.
  • Consider dining outside during sunset.
  • After sunset, dim indoor lights.
  • Soft lamps and/or incandescent bulbs are better than bright overhead lights.
  • Staring at a fire is better than staring at the TV.
  • Reading a book is better than scrolling on your phone.
  • Bathing by candlelight is better than using harsh bathroom lighting.

Caroline Seidel/Getty Images

Living by the sun

Making small changes as in the above routine can gradually bring your internal clock back into sync with the natural world.

Long before electric lights, smartphones, and daylight saving time, the sun quietly set the rhythm of human life.

Our bodies never forgot that rhythm.

And the more closely we align with that rhythm, the more we may rediscover something modern life has made easy to forget: God designed us to live by light — spiritually and physically.

Apps to help

The Circadian app or MyCircadian both help you identify what the sun is doing in your precise location so you can optimize when you go outside. D Minder helps you target safe UVB exposure.

Further information

Many voices in the circadian health space argue that our bodies evolved to sync with the sun. But Christians understand that this rhythm reflects design, not accident. Chelsea Blackbird, aka the Christian Nutritionist, often discusses these topics on her podcast.

Circadian health is often linked to the emerging field of “quantum biology.” A few experts worth following include:

  • Dr. Martin Moore-Ede: “The Light Doctor” is a former professor at Harvard Medical School, and he’s a leading expert on circadian medicine.
  • Sarah Kleiner is the creator of the MyCircadian app recommended above. Lots of information can be found on her website, and she also has a regular podcast with Carrie Bennett, another good source for quantum biology/circadian information.
  • Zaid Dahhaj is author of The Circadian Classroom, a newsletter with a tremendous amount of scientific information that he makes easier to understand.
  • Nikko Kennedy writes about circadian principles as they apply to pregnancy, childbirth, and postpartum in Brighter Days, Darker Nights.
  • Ryan Brown offers a lot of interesting research-based information, like this article on light’s impact on diabetes. Ryan healed his own autoimmune condition using circadian principles (as did quite a few of the people now sharing this information).
  • Dr. Jack Kruse is a neurosurgeon and health educator. Follow him on Facebook, X, or Instagram. (He recently posted some interesting information on how circadian principles apply to fertility.
  • Dr. Alexis Cowan is a “light biologist” who studies how sunlight shapes human health.
  • And if you like getting your information from easy-to-absorb, beautiful graphics on Instagram, Danielle Hamilton is a great follow.

Per-mile driving taxes: The latest way to punish those who drive the most?



A growing number of states are considering a new way to tax drivers: charging you for every mile you travel.

The idea is called a per-mile driving tax, and if it moves forward, the cost of simply using your car could rise dramatically.

To tax driving by the mile, governments need to know exactly how far a vehicle travels. That raises immediate questions about monitoring and data collection.

On a recent episode of "The Drive with Lauren and Karl," Karl Brauer and I discussed how these proposals are spreading — and why they could mean both higher costs and more government monitoring of drivers.

Pay as you go?

States such as California and Massachusetts are exploring mileage-based road charges as a replacement or supplement to traditional fuel taxes. The idea is simple on paper: Instead of paying taxes at the pump, drivers pay based on how many miles they drive.

But in practice, that means a new bill tied directly to your mobility.

Estimates from California state Rep. Carl DeMaio (R) suggest the impact could be substantial. Under proposals being discussed in California, drivers could be charged six to nine cents per mile they travel.

For a typical driver covering about 15,000 miles a year, that translates to roughly $900 to $1,200 annually in new taxes. DeMaio notes that when those charges are layered on top of existing gas taxes and vehicle taxes, the total burden for a two-car household could exceed $4,200 per year just for the privilege of driving.

That’s not a minor adjustment. For many families, it would function like another recurring household bill — tied directly to how much they drive.

And unlike discretionary spending, driving often isn’t optional. Millions of Americans rely on their vehicles to get to work, transport children, care for relatives, and handle everyday errands.

Commuter looter

One of the biggest problems with per-mile taxes is who ends up paying the highest price.

The drivers most likely to rack up mileage are often the ones who can least afford it. In expensive states like California, many workers commute long distances because housing near job centers is out of reach. Living farther out keeps rent or mortgage payments manageable — but it also means driving more miles.

A mileage tax effectively punishes those drivers for circumstances they can’t control.

Karl points out the obvious math: The longer your commute, the higher your tax bill. That means lower-income workers who travel farther to reach their jobs could end up paying more than wealthier drivers who live closer to work.

I spy

There’s another practical issue: How would states measure those miles?

To tax driving by the mile, governments need to know exactly how far a vehicle travels. That raises immediate questions about monitoring and data collection.

Modern cars already gather significant amounts of information through connected systems, insurance telematics, and onboard software. But a statewide mileage tax would likely require even more precise tracking.

Older vehicles without built-in connectivity present another challenge. Any mileage-tax program would still have to account for them, which could mean external tracking devices, reporting systems, or other work-arounds.

However the system is built, the bottom line is that taxing miles requires knowing how many miles you drive — and that opens the door to broader monitoring of driver behavior.

Kill switch 2.0

During the episode, we also talk about how this issue overlaps with new driver-monitoring technology already appearing in modern vehicles.

Under provisions in the 2021 infrastructure law, new vehicles will eventually include systems designed to detect impaired driving. The concept is often described as a safety feature, but the broader concern is how much control these systems could exert over the vehicle itself.

If software determines that a driver is impaired or unsafe, it could prevent the car from operating.

Karl and I agree that no one wants impaired drivers on the road. But once vehicles are equipped with systems capable of monitoring behavior and controlling vehicle operation, the question becomes how those systems might be used — and who ultimately controls them.

For drivers, that raises an uncomfortable possibility: a vehicle that can track, interpret, and potentially restrict how you use it.

RELATED: Salvage title cars are showing up at dealerships. Should you buy one?

Mike Simons/Getty Images

Engine trouble

Even without mileage taxes, the cost of owning and operating a vehicle has been climbing.

Vehicle prices remain high. Insurance premiums have increased significantly in many states. Repairs are more expensive as cars become more technologically complex. Fuel prices remain volatile.

Layering a per-mile tax on top of those costs would make daily transportation even more expensive.

Take California, where drivers already pay the highest fuel taxes in the country. A mileage-based charge might not replace those taxes — it could simply add another layer on top of them.

A broader trend

Mileage taxes also fit into a larger pattern in transportation policy.

Governments are experimenting with new ways to regulate emissions, reshape travel behavior, and generate revenue from road usage. But the people who feel the impact most directly are ordinary drivers.

Policies that make driving more expensive or more restricted don’t affect abstract “vehicle usage.” They affect real people who rely on their cars every day.

That includes workers commuting to jobs, parents transporting children, caregivers helping elderly relatives, and small-business owners who depend on vehicles for their livelihoods.

The bottom line

For most Americans, a car isn’t a luxury — it’s a necessity.

That’s why proposals like per-mile driving taxes deserve close scrutiny. They could dramatically increase transportation costs while expanding the amount of information collected about how drivers use their vehicles.

If states move forward with mileage-based taxes, drivers will be the ones paying the bill — both financially and in terms of how their mobility is monitored.

Listen to the full episode of “The Drive with Lauren and Karl” below:

Buy now. Pay later. Owe forever.



There’s good news at the Nelson residence. I no longer have to pay my rent!

That is, I don’t have to pay it the way I used to pay it. I now have options. I have been empowered. I can choose when I’m going to pay it. And how much I’m going to pay.

They are counting on you being stupid. And not being able to keep your head above water. That’s what they like to see. Millions and millions of heads, barely above sea level.

I can pay some of my rent now, and some of it later, according to my personal “cash-flow needs.”

Unlike in the past, I am released from the burden of coming up with all that rent money in one unwieldy chunk at the beginning of the month.

Now, I can spread my rent out into multiple payments, giving me freedom, flexibility, and financial control!

Flex my life

This has been made possible by a new product called Flex Rent, which my landlord has been pushing on me all month.

I have been receiving emails from Flex (the company behind Flex Rent) every single day. My landlord was helpful enough to give Flex my email address. Which leads me to conclude my landlord must really want me (and all his other tenants) to enroll in Flex.

Looking into it, I realize why. Because my landlord will get all the rent at the beginning of the month, just like he does now. Flex Rent will pay him.

Meanwhile, I can pay my rent to Flex Rent according to my “values” and my “financial goals” and my “monetary situation.”

In other words, when I’m not dead broke.

Land of the fee

Of course, Flex Rent is just trying to make a buck off renter Americans. Especially those in financial difficulties: people living paycheck to paycheck and doing so by a thin margin.

Flex Rent is trying to help those special people who, thanks to inflation, higher taxes, and job discrimination, are barely surviving financially.

Imagine you’re drowning. Onlookers call for help. Your friends at Flex Rent immediately arrive with a life preserver — only to ask for a small fee in order to throw it to you.

Ah yes, the small fee.

And what is that small fee? You start by paying Flex Rent $14.99 a month and 1% of your rent amount. Where I live that adds up to around $40/a month.

In exchange, they will front my rent money to my landlord. And I will get a few extra days or weeks to scratch up the rest.

With Flex Rent, everybody wins. My landlord gets his money. I am given “financial flexibility.” And Flex Rent — if the company can sign up enough people — will get rich off the growing number of financially desperate renters.

Klarna chameleon

Of course, Klarna started this trend. Klarna is that fun company that inserts itself between you and many of the companies you shop from online.

Let’s say you’re really hungry. You want to order a large pepperoni pizza. But you’re a little short on cash right now. Klarna magically appears in your pizza delivery app and offers to help.

Klarna will pay for your large pizza right now. All you have to do is pay Klarna back in installments. And there’s no interest! Not yet, anyway.

RELATED: Coffee is for closers; 'artisanal' coffee is for self-hating libs

Washington Post/NASA/Getty Images

You better, you bet

What’s interesting about Klarna and Flex Rent is that they exist in a crowded marketplace. Nowadays, there are many, many companies fighting for those last scraps of your paycheck.

All of which is happening during a time when your average American is having trouble even procuring a paycheck.

The various gambling websites are typical of these companies. They have figured out ways to transform your love of sports into highly addictive betting opportunities.

Outfits like Polymarket make it possible for you to gamble on non-sporting events. You can now bet on your local congressional race. Or who will win an Oscar. Whatever your interests, there are ways to lose money on them.

Meanwhile, Big Pharma also wants your last 20 bucks. As do your local streaming services. As does your local gas station.

It seems the less money Americans have, the more companies appear to fight over what’s left of it.

Stupid tax

Of course, the strategies used by Flex Rent and Klarna have existed as long as humans have exchanged goods and services. But these days, monetizing the moneyless is a growth business.

Even as I write this, more of these companies are coming into existence. There’s now a useful acronym used to describe their services: BNPL. “Buy now, pay later.” Here is just a sampling of some of the newer BNPL companies:

  • NOWpayments
  • Affirm
  • Credee
  • Sezzle
  • QuickFee
  • Afterpay
  • SplitIt

Each of these new outfits has its own particular gimmick. But they all do the same thing: take advantage of your fiscal misfortune, while pretending they’re “empowering” you.

You might ask yourself, “Do these companies think I’m stupid?” And the answer is yes, they do.

They are counting on you being stupid. And not being able to keep your head above water. That’s what they like to see. Millions and millions of heads, barely above sea level.

But maybe it’s good that these companies will help you buy that large pepperoni pizza. Don’t you need your pizza? And why should the pizza maker get all your pizza money? The Klarna folks need money too. Aren’t we all in this together?

How to get your kids reading — even in the age of screens and AI



Looking for a present for a young child? Amid the cultural maelstrom of 21st-century America, there’s a gift that’s better than anything in the toy aisle.

Nothing will have a bigger lifelong impact than instilling a young person with an intense love of reading. And since March is National Reading Month, there’s no better time to start.

While the brain candy of colorful screens is a child magnet, there are ways parents can compete with such allure.

You may have seen this bumper sticker: “If you can read this, thank a teacher.” That may be true for some children, but in most homes, a mother or father is a child’s first and best teacher.

Blessed with encouragement

I was blessed with a mom who was both a caring parent and a teacher — a reading specialist. With her encouragement, I absorbed the basics of reading before kindergarten, and for the rest of my academic endeavors, I consistently read years ahead of my grade level.

My aversion to math meant that whatever learning successes I achieved in my young life were rooted in my ability to read quickly and retain the information.

Although these skills were a crucial component of my success in college and graduate school, this reading proficiency dramatically assisted me in law school, where I consistently ranked in the top tier of my class.

Those pondering a career in law may be deterred when they learn that most successful law students read at least two hours of dry material for every hour of class time. That means a law student may spend 40 hours a week reading court opinions written decades or even centuries earlier, packed with terse legalese. Reading well really matters if you want to be a lawyer or most other careers.

Brain-candy blues

While the brain candy of colorful screens is a child magnet, there are ways parents can compete with such allure. One that worked for me was the permission to stay up past my normal bedtime if I was reading in bed. I plowed through several books a month using that laudable loophole.

Parental encouragement like this is worth the effort. Studies show early readers do far better in their later academic endeavors. They also become better writers. Whether writing in cursive or typing on phones, writing well opens doors that nothing else can.

The downward trend line of Americans reading is as obvious as a tuba in an elevator. The more exposure to watching videos a young child has, the lower the chance of success in future learning endeavors. Worse yet, some studies suggest that poor reading skills make it more likely that kids will engage in other behaviors parents fear, like teen pregnancy, delinquency, and addiction.

RELATED: How the laptop revolution destroyed public education

Blaze Media illustration

Chatbot challenge

AI makes the matter worse. AI engagement often doesn’t require typing or reading. Push a button and ask the chatbot a question, and you’ll hear some kind of answer. Whether it’s correct or not, you’ll likely have to do some — ahem — deeper reading.

Parents need workable solutions that don’t feel like making a child take the one bite of cold broccoli he’s been rebuffing all dinner long. That’s why, when my children were younger, we set aside times when the family sat together reading silently, each of us enjoying our own selected book. Even 40 minutes of this twice a week will move your child far ahead of most peers.

Our kids also enrolled in a reading challenge. After finishing several books over a few weeks, they were invited to an event where they skated with a few local NHL hockey players on the big-league rink. I still remember their wide eyes peering up at those elite athletes. It was clear that this incentive made those hours with books worth even more than the stories they read.

Book 'em

Parents can offer similar rewards. Trips to the library end with ice cream. Older kids can read aloud to the preschooler down the block. The family applauds after three-minute book reports at dinner.

Our family discussed books all the time. We recommended books to one another and then shared the insights we gained. To this day, we refer to key moments from novels we all read and how those insights apply to something in our lives.

How to get there? It starts with showing children that there’s something a screen simply can’t offer, like the electric thrill of a world built entirely from their own imagination. When a boy reads a story, every dragon is his dragon, scaled in colors he chooses, breathing fire that smells exactly how he imagined dragon fire should smell. A girl reading of a magic castle can determine how dark the shadows around it appear. And the face of the explorer inside is hers.

No director, no animator, no algorithm decides what wonder looks like — the child does. That creative power is genuine adventure, the kind that stretches young minds in ways passive viewing never can. A video delivers a finished world; a book hands a child the raw materials to build one.

The best gifts don't come wrapped in paper or require a charging cord. They come with dog-eared pages, late bedtimes, and kids who never quite stop reading. That's the gift. Just children, books, and a world they built themselves.

Mary Clarke: Beverly Hills socialite who traded haute couture for a habit



Mary Clarke grew up in Beverly Hills, surrounded by mink coats and parties hosted by Hollywood stars. She died in a ten-by-ten concrete room inside a Mexican prison.

In between, she raised seven children, survived two marriages, ran a business, and eventually walked away from comfort to live among violent criminals and forgotten men. If her life unsettles your assumptions about what holiness looks like, it should.

The institutional Church, for its part, did not immediately know what to do with a twice-divorced woman living inside a men’s prison and calling herself a nun.

She was born in 1926 to Irish immigrant parents who had clawed their way into California comfort without losing their faith or their social conscience. Her father built a successful business and moved the family to Beverly Hills, but he made sure his daughter understood that glamour was not the point. Mary absorbed the lesson, even if it took several decades and two divorces before she fully acted on it.

Broken promises

Her personal life was, to put it charitably, complicated. She married at 19 and watched the union fail due to gambling debts and broken promises. She married again and eventually found herself running her father’s company and managing what looked, from the outside, like a well-ordered life. It wasn’t enough. She hadn’t failed at life. She had excelled at a version of it that no longer satisfied her.

The turning point came in 1965, when she crossed the border into Tijuana with a priest and walked into La Mesa prison. What she saw there — the overcrowding, the degradation, the absence of basic dignity — did not strike her as someone else’s problem. She drove back to California and could not stop thinking about the faces she had seen.

So she went back. Then again. And again.

Each time she loaded her car with medicine, food, and clothing. Eventually the prison visits stopped being a charity project and became the center of her life. Beverly Hills was no longer home. It was the detour.

Heroic or insane

By 1977 her children were grown, her second marriage was over, and she made a decision that most people around her considered either heroic or insane. She sold or gave away nearly everything she owned, sewed herself a simple habit, took private vows, and moved into a concrete room inside one of the most feared prisons in Mexico, with nothing but a cot, a Bible, and a Spanish dictionary.

La Mesa was not a rehabilitation center in any optimistic sense. Drug traffickers ran the economy. Poorer prisoners slept on bare floors. Violence arrived without warning or apology. Into this world entered a middle-aged American woman with no official authority, no institutional backing, and an apparently unshakable conviction that every man in that prison still bore the image of God — however obscured it might be by crime, cruelty, or despair.

She walked into riots. She stepped between armed men. She spoke calmly into chaos. And more often than seemed statistically reasonable, people put their weapons down. She coaxed dentists to offer free clinics, persuaded bakers to donate bread, and reportedly sourced secondhand toilets from junkyards so that prisoners might have something the rest of the world takes for granted. She sat with the dying, prayed with guards, and confronted judges who handed lighter sentences to the wealthy than to the poor.

RELATED: Norma McCorvey: Reluctant Jane Roe who answered to higher judge

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The weight of years

The institutional Church, for its part, did not immediately know what to do with a twice-divorced woman living inside a men’s prison and calling herself a nun. For years she lacked formal status and could not even receive Holy Communion. She carried on anyway.

Eventually church leaders recognized the depth of her vocation. Bishop Posadas of Tijuana and Bishop Maher of San Diego both blessed her work, and she was received as an auxiliary Mercedarian, an order with a historic mission to prisoners. She later founded her own community, the Eudist Servants of the 11th Hour, specifically for older women called to serve after raising families or finishing careers.

That last detail matters. She was not looking for women who had not yet lived. She wanted the ones who had — women who carried the weight of years, of mistakes, of choices made and unmade — and she asked them a simple question: What now? It lands differently when you are old enough to realize that time is not infinite.

Mother Antonia Brenner died on October 17, 2013, at age 86. By conventional Catholic measures, she was a complicated figure: divorced twice, lacking formal vows for years, living far outside the expected parameters of religious life.

By any other measure, she spent three decades feeding the hungry, clothing the naked, and visiting the imprisoned — the precise works the gospel names without ambiguity.

She was fond of saying she had never met a prisoner not worth everything she could give.

The record suggests she meant it.

Salvage title cars are showing up at dealerships. Should you buy one?



More and more car dealers are breaking what was once an industry taboo: selling salvage-title vehicles — cars insurance companies have already written off as total losses.

That change, which Karl Brauer and I discuss on the latest episode of "The Drive with Lauren and Karl," reflects a simple reality: Affordable used cars are getting harder to find.

Alan compares flood damage to a long-term electrical disease inside a vehicle.

Used-car prices remain elevated, and inventory is still tight. Dealers looking for lower-cost vehicles to put on their lots are exploring options they once avoided — including vehicles that insurers have already declared totaled.

Lower prices may sound appealing to buyers struggling with high car costs. But the real question is whether those savings are worth the risk.

To unpack that risk, we brought in our friend automotive broadcaster Alan Taylor, who hosted "The Drive" for years before handing the microphone to Karl and me. Alan used to own a salvage yard before his broadcasting career, giving him firsthand experience buying, repairing, and reselling damaged vehicles.

During the episode, we were ribbing Alan about his new Liquid Carbon Series Mustang GTD, but the conversation quickly turned serious when the topic shifted to salvage vehicles — a business he knows firsthand from years running a wrecking yard.

Why salvage cars are entering the retail market

The driving force is affordability.

When used vehicles become expensive, buyers start searching for cheaper alternatives. Salvage-title vehicles often sell for significantly less than comparable clean-title cars.

For dealers, that means inventory that can be priced lower. For buyers, it can look like an opportunity.

But the lower price exists for a reason.

A salvage title means the vehicle was declared a total loss by an insurance company. That can happen after a crash, flood damage, theft recovery, or another major incident. Once a title is branded salvage, that designation stays with the vehicle permanently.

The problem for buyers is simple: The title tells you something serious happened — but it does not always explain how serious the damage actually was.

RELATED: Affordable cars still exist — but Americans can't buy them

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The biggest danger: Flood cars

During the conversation, Karl and Alan both warned that some salvage vehicles carry risks that never truly go away.

Flood-damaged cars are the most notorious example.

Water can infiltrate wiring harnesses, electronic modules, sensors, and interior components. A vehicle might appear normal after repairs, but corrosion inside the electrical system can trigger problems months or years later.

Alan compares flood damage to a long-term electrical disease inside a vehicle — something that may not show up immediately but can slowly spread through the car’s electronics over time.

Those failures can be expensive. Replacing electronic modules, wiring harnesses, or sensor systems in modern vehicles can easily cost thousands of dollars, quickly erasing whatever savings a buyer thought they gained by choosing a salvage car.

A vehicle may pass a test drive today but develop costly electrical problems months later.

Modern cars make salvage repairs riskier

Those risks are greater today than they were decades ago.

Modern vehicles rely on dozens of electronic control units, sensors, and processors to operate everything from safety systems to driver-assistance technology. When those systems are damaged, repairs become far more complicated.

According to Alan, "Anything after 2019 has got so many processors, sensors, and wires" he can sum up the repair process in one word: "Nightmare."

Older vehicles were largely mechanical. Modern vehicles are heavily electronic, and electrical damage can affect systems throughout the car.

That complexity makes hidden problems far more likely.

Not every salvage car is a disaster

At the same time, not every salvage vehicle should be automatically dismissed.

Sometimes a car receives a salvage title for reasons that do not involve catastrophic damage. Theft-recovery vehicles are one example. If an insurer pays the owner after a stolen vehicle disappears, the title can still be branded salvage even if the car is later recovered with relatively minor damage.

Alan saw this firsthand at his salvage yard.

“I used to sell 100 cars a month," he says. "But I would sell them damaged to people, and then I had a body shop, and we'd fix it at the building next door.”

Those buyers understood exactly what they were purchasing and often ended up with affordable transportation after repairs.

Alan notes that the key difference between a good salvage purchase and a bad one is simple: knowing exactly what damage occurred and how the repairs were done.

Most retail buyers, however, do not have that level of visibility.

Knowing the damage matters

Karl offers a good example from his own garage.

One of his cars carries a salvage title, but he knows exactly how the damage occurred:

“I got T-boned in a parking lot.”

Because he witnessed the accident and understands the repair history, evaluating the risk is far easier.

Most used-car buyers do not have that advantage.

That uncertainty is what makes salvage vehicles risky purchases.

How buyers can protect themselves

For consumers considering a salvage-title vehicle, research is essential.

Before buying, experts recommend:

  • Running a vehicle history report
  • Searching the VIN online for accident photos
  • Having the car inspected by a trusted mechanic
  • Confirming what repairs were performed and by whom

Without that information, the buyer is relying largely on trust.

And with modern vehicles packed with electronics, hidden damage can quickly turn a cheap purchase into an expensive repair bill.

The bottom line for drivers

Salvage-title vehicles exist in a gray area.

Some are repaired correctly and provide affordable transportation. Others hide structural or electrical damage that will lead to long-term reliability problems.

The lower price reflects that uncertainty.

For buyers who understand the risks and investigate the vehicle’s history carefully, a salvage car can occasionally make sense. But for most consumers shopping for dependable daily transportation, a clean-title vehicle with a documented history remains the safer choice.

To sum it up, the rule is simple: If you don’t know exactly why a car has a salvage title, you probably shouldn’t buy it.

Listen to the full episode of “The Drive with Lauren and Karl” (featuring Alan Taylor) below:

The best pub in England might be this Norwich backstreet boozer



Britain once had more pubs than anywhere else in the world. Today, thousands have vanished — closed, converted into flats, or replaced by chain bars selling cocktails in jam jars.

Yet in a quiet residential corner of Norwich, one pub has stubbornly refused to change. Many beer lovers believe it may be the best pub in England.

Hand pumps line the wooden bar, serving real ale directly from the cask — traditional British beer poured without modern carbonation.

Drinking has long been woven into the fabric of British culture. Whether bonding with strangers or catching up with old friends, few leisure pursuits rival the pleasure of enjoying an ice-cold pint by the river on a summer evening. Alcohol is deeply ingrained in our traditions — an essential pastime as iconic as queuing, complaining, or swapping increasingly outrageous stories with friends. It has long served as the social lubricant for first dates and awkward encounters alike.

A pub for every day

Nowhere is this drinking tradition more evident than in a city with a well-known — if possibly apocryphal — saying that it once had a pub for every day of the year and a church for every week. Despite the steady pressures that have forced thousands of British pubs to close in recent years, Norwich still offers plenty of choice.

Yet the modern pub landscape is increasingly dominated by chains and themed bars backed by large capital. They offer cheap drinks but little else — you couldn’t buy a conversation for all the bottomless shots served by young, telegenic, and relentlessly enthusiastic bar staff.

For tourists — or anyone over 25 — finding a proper pint can sometimes feel daunting. But fear not: Nil desperandum. Beyond the blinding neon signs, loud music, and rowdy hen parties, traditional pubs still exist.

In the world of British pubs, “legendary” is a term thrown around with reckless abandon. Yet in a quiet residential corner of Norwich, there is a backstreet boozer that has truly earned the title.

RELATED: God save the English pub

Joseph McKeown/Getty Images

Holy grail of beer

The Fat Cat on West End Street is more than just a great pub. Many real ale enthusiasts consider it the holy grail of beer in England.

In 1991, Colin and Marjie Keatley took charge of a dilapidated, bomb-damaged Victorian pub called the New Inn, marking the beginning of the Fat Cat legend. Deceptively spacious, this pub sits just a mile from the city center in a quiet Norwich neighborhood. With its traditional street-corner exterior, this little slice of British pub life has lasted more than 30 years. In an age of enthusiastic “heritage inflation,” one could easily imagine it claiming three centuries.

With its traditional decor, the Fat Cat feels more like a 19th-century ale house than a modern business. There are no fruit machines, jukeboxes, or pool tables in any of its series of small, winding rooms, each offering a quiet, intimate seating area.

Stained-glass windows celebrating local brewing history add to its Victorian charm. At the heart of the pub, a real fireplace is flanked by church pews, creating a space that feels almost sacred — a warm communal refuge where simple wooden tables and benches invite conversation rather than distraction. The only soundtrack is the low hum of voices and the clinking of glasses.

A simpler tradition

Don’t expect to find a menu on your table. The Fat Cat proudly rejects the modern gastropub craze. There are no elaborate tasting menus or trendy dishes served in theatrical ways. In fact, the pub barely has a kitchen.

Instead, they champion a simpler tradition: Enjoy one of their excellent pork pies or bring your own takeaway — provided you buy a drink.

Alongside antique beer signs, the walls are covered with awards. The Fat Cat is one of the most decorated pubs in Britain, having won National Pub of the Year twice and the "Good Pub Guide" Beer Pub of the Year a record 11 times. In 2025, Lonely Planet even named it the best pub in England.

Stepping inside can feel like entering a miniature beer festival. A long chalkboard lists an impressive rotating selection of British ales, inviting visitors to try something new. Hand pumps line the wooden bar, serving real ale directly from the cask — traditional British beer poured without modern carbonation.

Whether it’s one of the pub’s award-winning house favourites — such as Tom Cat or Marmalade Cat — or a rare Belgian import, the knowledgeable staff treat every pint with care. Here, beer is valued not as a commodity but as an old friend.

Ask for a lager and lime, however, and the barman is likely to tell you that they don’t do cocktails.

Rule, Britannia!

In an era when thousands of pubs are closing or being converted into generic chains, the Fat Cat stands as a reminder of what makes the British pub special. Serve excellent beer in a beautiful, no-nonsense setting, and people will travel from across the country to experience it.

Indeed, the Fat Cat has become something of a pilgrimage site for beer lovers.

Yet despite its international reputation, the pub remains quintessentially local. Its relaxed atmosphere draws people from every walk of life. Truck drivers and retired professors sit side by side. Strangers strike up conversations with ease.

It’s usually best to avoid politics — Norwich, after all, leans rather left-wing — but that hardly matters once the conversation turns to beer, football, or the weather.

Whether you are a dedicated ale enthusiast or simply someone looking for a warm fireplace and a friendly face, the Fat Cat represents the gold standard.

It is not merely one of the best pubs in Norwich.

It may well be the best pub in England.

How Jamie Foxx made Tourette's advocate the latest Hollywood villain



Here in America, we tend to treat racism as our defining moral emergency. Careers collapse over it, and institutions reorganize around preventing it.

Yet we seem unable to distinguish deliberate racial animus from the mere presence of a forbidden word. The recent ugly incident at the BAFTAs — and its even uglier aftermath — makes this painfully clear.

Forced into public contrition to satisfy a ritual demand for outrage.

One of the films honored at this year's ceremony was "I Swear," a dramatized biography of Tourette syndrome advocate John Davidson. In attendance was Davidson himself.

Disruptive and involuntary

Tourette syndrome is a neurological disorder marked by involuntary motor and vocal tics that range from mild movements to disruptive speech; Davidson suffers from coprolalia (essentially Latin for "sh**t-talking") — the rare but notorious form involving uncontrollable obscenities that, in the popular imagination, has come to stand in for the entire condition.

"I Swear" portrays the trials of living with such a condition, which at one point led Davidson to attempt suicide by walking into a river. It depicts a man who has been bullied, punched, and otherwise assaulted throughout his life because he can’t stop himself from saying the wrong thing at the wrong time.

Even in his moment of triumph — with the film about his life winning five awards, including Best British Film, Best Actor, and Best Screenplay — Davidson's Tourette syndrome came back to haunt him.

'The opposite of what I believe'

Throughout the evening, Davidson experienced multiple vocal tics. While actors Michael B. Jordan and Delroy Lindo were presenting an award, one of those involuntary outbursts included the N-word. As Davidson would later tell Variety, he “ticked perhaps 10 different offensive words” that night; the racial slur was one among several.

Davidson added, “What you hear me shouting is literally the last thing in the world I believe; it is the opposite of what I believe. The most offensive word that I ticked at the ceremony … is a word I would never use and would completely condemn if I did not have Tourette’s.”

The audience had been warned in advance that vocal tics, including involuntary swearing, could occur.

Insult before injury

Host Alan Cumming addressed the incident from the stage, asking for “understanding” and apologizing “if you were offended.” Not long after, Davidson chose to leave the auditorium, later explaining that he was aware that his condition was causing distress.

But in the aftermath of the incident, some black Hollywood elites were quick to ignore the medical context in favor of moral condemnation. Actor Wendell Pierce wrote on X that “it doesn’t matter the reasoning for the racist slur,” insisting that “the insult … takes priority.”

Jamie Foxx, commenting on an Instagram post, was blunter: “Nah, he meant that s**t."

"Sinners" production designer Hannah Beachler, who attended the ceremony, argued that the apology fell short, calling it a “throw away” response.

But the awkwardness of Alan Cumming’s on-stage apology — “if you were offended” — reflected an unusual moral dilemma To apologize unequivocally on Davidson’s behalf would have implied agency and culpability, as though a neurological disorder were a character defect. Yet to say nothing would have signaled indifference to the inflammatory power of the word.

Davidson himself drew the line the following day. “Whilst I will never apologize for having Tourette syndrome,” he said, “I will apologize for any pain, upset and misunderstanding that it may create.”

Permissible sin

Davidson was a careful to separate regret from guilt. But such nuance is apparently not possible where this particular slur is concerned. In America, we are expected to believe that uttering the N-word — regardless of intent or context — is one of the worst moral assaults any person can commit.

And so a man whose disorder makes him incapable of controlling certain outbursts was forced into public contrition to satisfy a ritual demand for outrage. The reaction was less about justice than about reaffirming the hierarchy of permissible sin.

You could ask for no better illustration of the kind of race-based narcissism our country has encouraged in attempting to atone for its genuinely racist past. By treating black Americans as permanently wounded and permanently aggrieved — so that even a wealthy and powerful celebrity like Foxx can feel victimized by someone like Davidson — we see them not as individuals, but as almost sacred symbols.

This attitude is dehumanizing. It denies agency. We all know that Foxx's accusation is wrong; Davidson didn't "mean" to offend. But there's a sense in which we assume Foxx himself "can't help" but react the way he did. After all, this is the N-word we're talking about.

This is the same infantilizing impulse that makes honest discussion about persistent dysfunction in parts of the black community — crime, family instability, educational failure — feel radioactive.

RELATED: Tourette advocate's BAFTA slur gets no empathy from stars

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Grandiose traits

The theory seems to be that black people have been so oppressed by pervasive "systemic racism" that it isn't possible to hold them morally accountable in the same way you would anyone else. We've spent the last decade hearing about the "white supremacy" at the heart of America. This isn't just an opinion — it's actual science!

But there is some other science that complicates this story of permanent psychic injury. Decades of research have found that black Americans report higher average levels of self-esteem than white Americans.

And some research even shows that this can tip into pathology. A 2011 study in the Journal of Personality Research titled “Racial Differences in Narcissistic Tendencies” found higher self-reported levels of certain grandiose narcissistic traits among black participants.

Tourette’s-induced slurs are, of course, are not a widespread occurrence. But it's worth noticing how the BAFTA incident strips the issue to its essentials. A mature society should be able to hold two ideas at once: that racial slurs are degrading and historically charged and that neurological conditions are real and mitigating.

If we can't, we have a deeper problem. The woke era's tendency to see racism everywhere means our current moral reflexes are less about serving truth than they are about protecting a narrative. The more we allow this collective delusion to take hold, the harder it will be to speak plainly to each other. A society that cannot speak honestly about motive and meaning will not remain merely confused; it will grow brittle. And brittle things tend to break under pressure.

Stellantis just blew $26 billion on bad EV bet



Stellantis is facing a financial reckoning that should send a warning across the global auto industry.

After betting that the electric vehicle transition would move faster than consumers were ready to follow, the company is now reporting a staggering $26.3 billion net loss for 2025 — driven largely by roughly $30 billion in write-downs tied to scaling back parts of its EV strategy.

As recently as 2023, some workers received nearly $14,000 in profit-sharing payouts. This year, they received nothing.

For a company that was profitable just a year earlier, the reversal is dramatic. Stellantis’ experience highlights the risks of building product strategies around aggressive electrification timelines shaped by government policy and optimistic forecasts rather than actual consumer demand.

Stellantis, the Amsterdam-based automaker formed in 2021, oversees 14 brands, including Jeep, Dodge, Ram, Chrysler, Fiat, Alfa Romeo, Maserati, Peugeot, and Citroën. With that kind of global footprint, its strategic decisions ripple across workers, suppliers, investors — and ultimately car buyers.

Electric slide

The company’s 2025 financial results show how quickly those bets can unravel. Net revenue totaled $181.1 billion, down 2% from the previous year. But the real damage appears on the bottom line: a $26.3 billion net loss replacing what had been a $6.5 billion profit the year before. Free cash flow turned negative by roughly $4.9 billion. Dividends were suspended, and profit-sharing checks for UAW workers disappeared.

As recently as 2023, some workers received nearly $14,000 in profit-sharing payouts. This year, they received nothing. When automakers absorb losses of this scale, the financial pressure eventually spreads through the entire system — from employees and suppliers to vehicle pricing and investment decisions.

Chief Executive Officer Antonio Filosa acknowledged the miscalculation directly, saying the results reflect “the cost of over-estimating the pace of the energy transition.” That unusually candid admission reflects a broader reality across the auto sector: Automakers, regulators, and investors collectively assumed EV adoption would accelerate faster than consumers, charging infrastructure, affordability, and political support would allow.

'Dare' or truth

The roots of the problem trace back to Stellantis’ “Dare Forward 2030” strategy under former CEO Carlos Tavares. The company set ambitious goals: 100% EV sales in Europe and 50% EV sales in the United States by 2030. To reach those targets, Stellantis invested billions in EV platforms, battery supply chains, and factory conversions.

Those investments were encouraged — and in some cases effectively required — by government mandates and regulatory timelines. But the strategy assumed that consumers would move to EVs at roughly the same pace as policymakers hoped.

That assumption proved overly optimistic.

EV adoption has grown, but not at the pace many projections predicted during the peak of electric vehicle enthusiasm. High vehicle prices, uneven charging infrastructure, rising insurance costs, and concerns about resale value have slowed adoption. As those concerns mounted, both Europe and the United States began easing some regulatory pressure tied to EV mandates.

When policy expectations change, automakers are left adjusting billions of dollars in investments that were made under very different assumptions.

Misery loves company

Stellantis was not alone in this miscalculation. Across the industry, automakers have announced more than $55 billion in EV-related write-offs. Reporting from the Financial Times estimates the broader financial toll of scaling back electrification plans — including restructuring costs and canceled programs — has reached roughly $65 billion. Ford alone has taken about $19 billion in charges connected to its EV reset, while General Motors and Volkswagen have also booked major write-downs.

Even in that context, Stellantis’ losses stand out. The company recorded about $25.9 billion in one-time charges, including nearly $20 billion tied directly to electric-vehicle programs, along with roughly $4.8 billion in warranty costs and other restructuring expenses. Those charges reflect a broad reset of the company’s strategy as Stellantis scrapped certain electric and plug-in hybrid models, revised production plans, and shifted investment back toward internal combustion and hybrid vehicles.

Buyers wanted

For consumers, these strategic resets matter because powertrain choices shape vehicle availability and pricing.

In North America, one of the clearest signals of Stellantis’ shift is the return of the 5.7-liter HEMI V8 engine. That move reflects continued demand for traditional powertrains, especially in high-margin truck and performance segments where buyers prioritize capability, reliability, and price over electrification targets.

In Europe, Stellantis is folding diesel and mild-hybrid gasoline options back into several models. Instead of betting exclusively on battery electric vehicles, the company is moving toward a broader powertrain strategy that includes EVs, hybrids, gasoline, and diesel options.

That shift reflects what many consumers have been saying throughout the transition: They want choices that fit their budgets, driving habits, and infrastructure realities.

RELATED: Hemi tough: Stellantis chooses power over tired EV mandate

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Smooth travels ahead?

Despite the enormous write-downs, there are early signs of stabilization. During the second half of 2025, after Filosa began unwinding elements of the prior strategy, Stellantis reported approximately $93.3 billion in revenue for the July-December period, a 10% increase year over year. Vehicle shipments rose 11% during that timeframe.

The company still reported an adjusted operating loss of roughly $1.6 billion during that period, but improved shipment volumes suggest the recalibrated strategy may be gaining traction.

The crisis did not develop overnight. It grew from several assumptions: that EV demand would rise steadily, that battery costs would fall fast enough to make EVs profitable, and that regulatory pressure would remain constant.

Instead, the transition has proven far more uneven. EV sales remain heavily dependent on subsidies, battery supply chains still rely heavily on China, and charging infrastructure remains inconsistent across many markets. When incentives shrink or economic conditions tighten, EV demand can slow quickly.

Workers feel the pain

For workers, the consequences are immediate. Because Stellantis posted a loss, UAW employees will not receive profit-sharing payouts this year. Across the Detroit Three, the average payout is about $6,200 — roughly 40% lower than prior averages near $10,000. For Stellantis workers, the payout is zero.

The broader lesson is not that electric vehicles have no role in the future. They do, and EV technology will continue to evolve.

But the assumption that internal combustion engines would disappear rapidly now looks unrealistic. Consumers ultimately determine the pace of change, and their priorities remain clear: price, reliability, convenience, charging access, and resale value.

Filosa has framed Stellantis’ reset around restoring “freedom to choose” across electric, hybrid, gasoline, and diesel technologies. That message reflects a shift toward building vehicles that align with real-world consumer demand rather than political timelines.

The cost of the earlier miscalculation is now measured in tens of billions of dollars. Whether the reset ultimately strengthens Stellantis or simply marks the beginning of a smaller product lineup will depend on how effectively the company balances innovation with consumer priorities.

In the end, the lesson is simple. Automakers can design new technologies and governments can set policy goals, but consumers still decide what succeeds in the marketplace.