History doesn’t just move forward — it echoes. Karl Marx once said history repeats itself, “first as tragedy, second as farce.” He meant it as a jab at 19th-century France, where Napoleon’s nephew attempted to replicate his uncle’s revolutionary drama not on the battlefield but rather through bureaucratic spectacle. Nevertheless, Marx’s insight fits modern America. Our cycles of unrest and outrage have become predictable theater — each act beginning with moral panic and ending in absurdity.

The summer of 2020 was a national trauma. The killing of George Floyd was a tragedy that radicals turned into revolution. Riots swept through more than 2,000 cities, torching businesses, destroying neighborhoods, and leaving dozens dead. Egged on by the race-baiting activists at Black Lives Matter, mobs looted stores, assaulted police, and terrorized communities.

The line between tragedy and farce is thinner than ever — and this time, we can’t afford to play the fool.

Media outlets downplayed the carnage as “fiery but mostly peaceful.” Political leaders joined the chorus, afraid to confront the mob. Corporate America rushed to signal its virtue by taking the knee, pouring billions into “racial equity” schemes that enriched activists but divided the country.

The real tragedy wasn’t just the damage — it was the betrayal. Spineless mayors and governors surrendered their cities. Police were handcuffed, budgets gutted, and criminals emboldened. The riots hollowed out public trust, replacing civic order with cultural resentment. America’s guardians became scapegoats, and justice itself became negotiable.

From riot to parody

Five years on, the rebellion has devolved into a pathetic sideshow. Antifa’s latest “resistance” — a handful of masked agitators harassing Immigration and Customs Enforcement agents as they carry out long-overdue deportations — feels less like revolution and more like performance art.

Their vandalism is designed for TikTok, not for change: laser pointers at officers, graffiti on walls, choreographed scuffles for social media. It’s a boutique insurgency — staged in deep-blue enclaves, broadcast for dopamine hits, and forgotten the next day.

The chaos of 2020 burned cities. The tantrums of 2025 barely dent a precinct wall. The tragedy has become farce.

Still, both movements spring from the same poisoned root: a left-wing ideology that despises America’s foundations. BLM targeted police as enforcers of “white supremacy.” Antifa brands border agents as fascists for upholding immigration law.

Both rely on the same tactics — decentralized mobs, anonymous online organizing, and emotional manipulation amplified by social media. Both seek power through grievance, not through persuasion. And both reveal how progressive rage, unmoored from reality, becomes self-parody.

In 2020, rioters burned precincts and seized city blocks. They demanded “defund the police” and got it — along with record crime rates and broken neighborhoods. In 2025, their heirs spray-paint slogans and livestream tantrums. Their only victory is visibility.

The digital theater of rage

Social media turned riots into content. In 2020, doctored clips of “police brutality” fueled nationwide hysteria, empowered anti-cop lunatics, and enriched grifters. Today, the same algorithms push Antifa’s posturing, turning vandalism into viral spectacle.

These platforms profit from outrage. They amplify emotion, suppress context, and reward hysteria. The result is a feedback loop of performative politics — activism as cosplay.

After years of indulgence, government crackdowns have finally returned. ICE operates under firm executive backing. Local police departments no longer hesitate to enforce the law. The radicals, once protected, now find themselves exposed and outmatched.

But even as law enforcement regains its footing, the left’s playbook remains unchanged. The grievances are repackaged, the slogans recycled, the media coverage predictable. It’s cultural Marxism with a TikTok filter — ideology as entertainment.

Farce doesn’t mean harmless. Every protest turned stunt still corrodes civic life. Each viral act of defiance feeds distrust in law, borders, and the rule of order itself.

The radicals thrive on illusion: fake oppression, fake urgency, fake rebellion. Meanwhile, real Americans bear the cost — higher crime, divided communities, and institutions too timid to defend themselves.

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The lesson we refuse to learn

The tragedy of 2020 proved that surrendering to the mob invites ruin. The farce of 2025 shows that ridicule alone isn’t enough to defeat it. Both demand resolve — the courage to confront lies, restore order, and defend the institutions that safeguard freedom.

History doesn’t stop repeating itself; it stops being repeated. Whether America ends this cycle depends on whether its citizens choose firmness over fear, enforcement over appeasement, and truth over spectacle.

Enough with the doctored outrage porn. The burning question is whether we’ll tolerate this clown show recycling into catastrophe or crush it with resolve that honors real American values.

The line between tragedy and farce is thinner than ever — and this time, we can’t afford to play the fool.

AI can fake a face — but not a soul

The New York Times recently profiled Scott Jacqmein, an actor from Dallas who sold his likeness to TikTok for $750 and a free trip to the Bay Area. He hasn’t landed any TV shows, movies, or commercials, but his AI-generated likeness has — a virtual version of Jacqmein is now “acting” in countless ads on TikTok. As the Times put it, Jacqmein “fields one or two texts a week from acquaintances and friends who are pretty sure they have seen him pitching a peculiar range of businesses on TikTok.”

Now, Jacqmein “has regrets.” But why? He consented to sell his likeness. His image isn’t being used illegally. He wanted to act, and now — at least digitally — he’s acting. His regrets seem less about ethics and more about economics.

The more perfect the imitation, the greater the lie. What people crave isn’t flawless illusion — it’s authenticity.

Times reporter Sapna Maheshwari suggests as much. Her story centers on the lack of royalties and legal protections for people like Jacqmein.

She also raises moral concerns, citing examples where digital avatars were used to promote objectionable products or deliver offensive messages. In one case, Jacqmein’s AI double pitched a “male performance supplement.” In another, a TikTok employee allegedly unleashed AI avatars reciting passages from Hitler’s “Mein Kampf.” TikTok removed the tool that made the videos possible after CNN brought the story to light.

When faces become property

These incidents blur into a larger problem — the same one raised by deepfakes. In recent months, digital impostors have mimicked public figures from Bishop Robert Barron to the pope. The Vatican itself has had to denounce fake homilies generated in the likeness of Leo XIV. Such fabrications can mislead, defame, or humiliate.

But the deepest problem with digital avatars isn’t that they deceive. It’s that they aren’t real.

Even if Jacqmein were paid handsomely and religious figures embraced synthetic preaching as legitimate evangelism, something about the whole enterprise would remain wrong. Selling one’s likeness is a transaction of the soul. It’s unsettling because it treats what’s uniquely human — voice, gesture, and presence — as property to be cloned and sold.

When a person licenses his “digital twin,” he doesn’t just part with data. He commodifies identity itself. The actor’s expressions, tone, and mannerisms become a bundle of intellectual property. Someone else owns them now.

That’s why audiences instinctively recoil at watching AI puppets masquerade and mimic people. Even if the illusion is technically impressive, it feels hollow. A digital replica can’t evoke the same moral or emotional response as a real human being.

Selling the soul

This isn’t a new theme in art or philosophy. In a classic “Simpsons” episode, Bart sells his soul to his pal Milhouse for $5 and soon feels hollow, haunted by nightmares, convinced he’s lost something essential. The joke carries a metaphysical truth: When we surrender what defines us as human — even symbolically — we suffer a real loss.

For those who believe in an immortal soul, as Jesuit philosopher Robert Spitzer argues in “Science at the Doorstep to God,” this loss is more than psychological. To sell one’s likeness is to treat the image of the divine within as a market commodity. The transaction might seem trivial — a harmless digital contract — but the symbolism runs deep.

Oscar Wilde captured this inversion of morality in “The Picture of Dorian Gray.” His protagonist stays eternally young while his portrait, the mirror of his soul, decays. In our digital age, the roles are reversed: The AI avatar remains young and flawless while the human model ages, forgotten and spiritually diminished.

Jacqmein can’t destroy his portrait. It’s contractually owned by someone else. If he wants to stop his digital self from hawking supplements or energy drinks, he’ll need lawyers — and he’ll probably lose. He’s condemned to watch his AI double enjoy a flourishing career while he struggles to pay rent. The scenario reads like a lost episode of “Black Mirror” — a man trapped in a parody of his own success. (In fact, “The Waldo Moment” and “Hang the DJ” come close to this.)

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The moral exit

The conventional answer to this dilemma is regulation: copyright reforms, consent standards, watermarking requirements. But the real solution begins with refusal. Actors shouldn’t sell their avatars. Consumers shouldn’t support platforms that replace people with synthetic ghosts.

If TikTok and other media giants populate their feeds with digital clones, users should boycott them and demand “fair-trade human content.” Just as conscientious shoppers insist on buying ethically sourced goods, viewers should insist on art and advertising made by living, breathing humans.

Tech evangelists argue that AI avatars will soon become indistinguishable from the people they’re modeled on. But that misses the point. The more perfect the imitation, the greater the lie. What people crave isn’t flawless illusion — it’s authenticity. They want to see imperfection, effort, and presence. They want to see life.

If we surrender that, we’ll lose something far more valuable than any acting career or TikTok deal. We’ll lose the very thing that makes us human.

The poisoned stream of culture is flowing through our churches

On most days, the creek that runs behind our home in Montana looks like something out of a painting. The water tumbles over slick stones, swirls beneath the wooden bridge, and flashes like glass in the sunlight as it winds through the trees.

On hot afternoons, I take off my boots and stand in it awhile, letting the cold mountain water swirl around my feet. Even in August, it stays clear and shockingly cold — refreshing on hot, dusty feet. It looks so pure and inviting that you’d think you could cup your hands and drink from it.

The world’s water might soothe for a moment, but it can’t sustain. Only Christ, the living water, can cleanse, restore, and refresh a parched heart.

Yet I know better.

While helping a rancher move some cattle across the property, a few of them wandered down into that same creek. They lingered there, swishing tails and doing what cows do. The water still looked clear from a distance, but you certainly wouldn’t drink from it. Even a Supreme Court justice wouldn’t need a biologist to figure that out.

The water in that creek started high in the mountains, clean and cold. It was once pure, but animals do what animals do. People, though, take it further. We pollute on purpose. That’s not instinct; that’s sin.

We talk about free will, and we have it. But left to ourselves, we use it to wreck what was good. The culture isn’t just wandering into the water; it’s content to poison it, and sinners seem to care less about a polluted stream than cows do.

Downstream from belief

We’ve all heard that politics flows downstream from culture. But if you trace that current far enough, you’ll find that culture flows downstream from belief. Whatever people worship, they eventually legislate into law.

Today, we have ceased worshipping God. Instead, we bow before slogans, systems, and grievances that mollify us rather than giving worship to the one to whom it is due. From a distance, it all looks good — flowing with energy, language, and even a sense of virtue. But somewhere upstream, something has wandered into the water — or been poured into it.

Too often, the church is wading downstream, cup in hand, trying to stay “relevant” while drinking what has already been polluted. The poison is sin itself, the moral waste of self-worship that seeps in until it becomes part of the current.

When the church starts drinking downstream, the songs continue, the sermons sound familiar, and the branding shines. But the taste changes. Conviction weakens, holiness becomes optional, and relevance becomes everything. We echo the world’s vocabulary of identity and justice without the foundation of repentance and redemption. The message gets muddied, and we don’t even notice the shift.

And when that happens, the thirstiest suffer first. Those are the ones who come to church desperate for something real.

What really sticks

I’ve spent 40 years as a caregiver, and I’ve learned what real thirst feels like. When you’ve poured yourself out for years, almost any water looks good. You pray for strength, for truth, for something steady, and too often what comes back sounds like marketing. You sit in church and hear, “Claim your victory,” “Speak life,” or, “Step into your blessing,” and you wonder if anyone sees the wreckage you live with. Then, from another pulpit, you hear, “God understands,” “It’s not that bad,” or, “Everyone struggles.”

It sounds compassionate, but it isn’t. It’s corrosion.

The first slick of contamination began with the serpent questioning the Word of God, and all too many pulpits echo that same hiss today. They downplay sin, soften the edges, and serve up messages that keep people comfortable yet captive. They offer sympathy instead of repentance. That’s not grace; that’s decay.

Ornate and large pulpits don’t necessarily mean clean water. Visibility isn’t the same as vision. The purity of the message isn’t measured by the size of the platform of the one delivering it but by how faithfully it points upstream to Christ Himself.

Truth, the real kind, usually starts with one hard word: repent. It’s upstream, and it’s not easy to get there. But that’s where the water runs clean. Downstream, you’ll only find a little contamination, a little compromise, a little manure, and just enough to make you sick.

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I’ve tested the various platitudes and slogans in the emergency room, ICU, and dark watches of the night more times than I can count. None of them hold up.

Here’s what does.

Only one water stays pure no matter who steps in it. It’s the same water that met a Samaritan woman at a well. It’s the same water Isaiah promised when he wrote, “With joy you will draw water from the wells of salvation.” That’s the invitation — not just to the church, but to every soul that’s dry and staggering: Walk upstream.

Go upstream

When we drink deeply from that pure spring, holiness stops feeling like a burden and starts feeling like oxygen. It gives clarity instead of confusion, courage instead of compromise.

That’s the call to the church and to every weary heart. Don’t drink what the world has trampled. Don’t settle for water that only looks clean from a distance. Polluted streams can’t quench the thirst of thirsty people.

The world’s water might soothe for a moment, even cool our weary feet, but it can’t sustain us. Only Christ, the living water, can cleanse, restore, and refresh a parched heart.

So go upstream. The source is still pure, and it’s still flowing.

Artificial intelligence is not your friend

Half of Americans say they are lonely and isolated — and artificial intelligence is stepping into the void.

Sam Altman recently announced that OpenAI will soon provide erotica for lonely adults. Mark Zuckerberg envisions a future in which solitary people enjoy AI friends. According to the Harvard Business Review, the top uses for large language models are therapy and companionship.

Lonely people don’t need better algorithms. We need better friends — and the courage to be one.

It’s easy to see why this is happening. AI is always available, endlessly patient, and unfailingly agreeable. Millions now pour their secrets into silicon confidants, comforted by algorithms that respond with affirmation and tact.

But what masquerades as friendship is, in fact, a dangerous substitute. AI therapy and friendship burrow us deeper into ourselves when what we most need is to reach out to others.

As Jordan Peterson once observed, “Obsessive concern with the self is indistinguishable from misery.” That is the trap of AI companionship.

Hall of mirrors

AI echoes back your concerns, frames its answers around your cues, and never asks anything of you. At times, it may surprise you with information, but the conversation still runs along tracks you have laid. In that sense, every exchange with AI is solipsistic — a hall of mirrors that flatters the self but never challenges it.

It can’t grow with you to become more generous, honorable, just, or patient. Ultimately, every interaction with AI cultivates a narrow self-centeredness that only increases loneliness and unhappiness.

Even when self-reflection is necessary, AI falls short. It cannot read your emotions, adjust its tone, or provide physical comfort. It can’t inspire courage, sit beside you in silence, or offer forgiveness. A chatbot can only mimic what it has never known.

Most damaging of all, it can’t truly empathize. No matter what words it generates, it has never suffered loss, borne responsibility, or accepted love. Deep down, you know it doesn’t really understand you.

With AI, you can talk all you want. But you will never be heard.

Humans need love, not algorithms

Humans are social animals. We long for love and recognition from other humans. The desire for friendship is natural. But people are looking where no real friend can be found.

Aristotle taught that genuine friendship is ordered toward a common good and requires presence, sacrifice, and accountability. Unlike friendships of utility or pleasure — which dissolve when benefit or amusement fades — true friendship endures, because it calls each person to become better than they are.

Today, the word “friend” is often cheapened to a mere social-media connection, making Aristotelian friendship — rooted in virtue and sacrifice — feel almost foreign. Yet it comes alive in ancient texts, which show the heights that true friendship can inspire.

Real friendships are rooted in ideals older than machines and formed through shared struggles and selfless giving.

In Homer’s “Iliad,” Achilles and Patroclus shared an unbreakable bond forged in childhood and through battle. When Patroclus was killed, Achilles’ rage and grief changed the course of the Trojan War and of history. The Bible describes the friendship of Jonathan and David, whose devotion to one another, to their people, and to God transcended ambition and even family ties: “The soul of Jonathan was knit with the soul of David.”

These friendships were not one-sided projections. They were built upon shared experiences and selflessness that artificial intelligence can never offer.

Each time we choose the easy route of AI companionship over the hard reality of human relationships, we render ourselves less available and less able to achieve the true friendship our ancestors enjoyed.

Recovering genuine friendship requires forming people who are capable of being friends. People must be taught how to speak, listen, and seek truth together — something our current educational system has largely forgotten.

Classical education offers a remedy, reviving these habits of human connection by immersing students in the great moral and philosophical conversations of the past. Unlike modern classrooms, where students passively absorb information, classical seminars require them to wrestle together over what matters most: love in Plato’s “Symposium,” restlessness in Augustine’s “Confessions,” loss in Virgil’s “Aeneid,” or reconciliation in Shakespeare’s “King Lear.”

These dialogues force students to listen carefully, speak honestly, and allow truth — not ego — to guide the exchange. They remind us that friendship is not built on convenience but on mutual searching, where each participant must give as well as receive.

Reclaiming humanity

In a world tempted by the frictionless ease of talking to machines, classical education restores human encounters. Seminars cultivate the courage to confront discomfort, admit error, and grapple with ideas that challenge our assumptions — a rehearsal for the moral and social demands of real friendship.

Photo by Yuichiro Chino via Getty Images

Is classroom practice enough for friendship? No. But it plants the seeds. Habits of conversation, humility, and shared pursuit of truth prepare students to form real friendships through self-sacrifice outside the classroom: to cook for an exhausted co-worker, to answer the late-night call for help, to lovingly tell another he or she is wrong, to simply be present while someone grieves.

It’s difficult to form friendships in the modern world, where people are isolated in their homes, occupied by screens, and vexed by distractions and schedules. Technology tempts us with the illusion of effortless companionship — someone who is always where you are, whenever you want to talk. Like all fantasies, it can be pleasant for a time. But it’s not real.

Real friendships are rooted in ideals older than machines and formed through shared struggles and selfless giving.

Lonely people don’t need better algorithms. We need better friends — and the courage to be one.

Editor’s note: This article was published originally in the American Mind.

Why Mars is America’s next strategic imperative

Space is the defining strategic frontier of the 21st century. America’s space leadership depends on harnessing the private sector to create wealth and focusing the public sector on limited yet critical security and scientific objectives.

While achieving supremacy in cislunar space (the region between Earth and the moon, including the moon’s surface) must be our immediate aim, it lacks the strategic coherence to sustain American leadership over the long term.

America’s commercial space sector provides the capability and incentives to make Mars exploration both symbolically and economically rewarding.

We need long-term goals to define success and clarify tradeoffs. A manned mission to Mars can do both.

China and Russia, our near-peer competitors in space, pose serious challenges. Beijing openly pursues dominance in the Earth-moon system while accelerating toward Mars, with an ambitious sample return mission scheduled for 2028. Russia maintains formidable military capabilities in space, alongside proven Mars science achievements.

If our authoritarian rivals prevail, the world’s free nations may find their ability to access and use space significantly curtailed.

This is why the United States needs a unifying long-term vision that focuses and directs near-term commercial, military, and scientific objectives. We must also research and develop technologies for sustained living in space. A smart Mars strategy provides the needed framework, creating the technological roadmap and institutional durability to win the cislunar competition and position America for permanent space premiership.

Unleash the private sector

America’s commercial space revolution offers a compelling model for space exploration that our competitors cannot match. Most obviously, market forces have been essential for reducing launch costs. SpaceX has already demonstrated that private initiative can outpace government bureaucracies, slashing launch costs from $18,000 per kilogram during the Space Shuttle era to roughly $2,700 for today’s reusable Falcon 9.

A healthy ecosystem of suppliers, including Blue Origin, proves this success isn’t limited to one company. Cheaper launches mean increased launch cadence, which is necessary to keep space habitats provisioned. This is a prerequisite for conducting the research and tests for a journey to Mars.

China’s approach offers an instructive contrast. While Beijing tolerates private sector participation, it ultimately remains under state control. This creates strategic coherence but sacrifices the agility and inventiveness that drive transformative breakthroughs.

Chinese private space companies operate as tools of the state. Precisely because the Chinese Communist Party subordinates the information-generating and incentive-aligning features of markets, they will never enjoy the full benefits of space commerce.

Preparing for Mars missions will yield new technologies with dual-use applications. On-orbit refueling, advanced life support systems, radiation shielding, nuclear propulsion, and autonomous manufacturing capabilities developed for Mars will flow back into energy production, medical devices, artificial intelligence, and advanced manufacturing here on Earth. It will also bolster military preparedness through advancements in basic and applied sciences. All this redounds to national security by increasing the resilience of our space assets.

These developments promise substantial job creation across skill and education levels. While Mars missions certainly demand high-tech expertise and advanced degrees, they also require skilled technicians, machinists, and assembly specialists. Going to Mars will help revitalize America’s industrial base while broadly distributing economic prosperity.

Winning the long game

While a single Mars mission could take 30 months or longer, a Mars program will likely span decades, requiring support from multiple Congresses and presidential administrations.

Avoiding the start-stop cycles that have plagued space programs — from Apollo to Constellation — requires building institutional and political durability at the outset. The foundation must be bipartisan, framing Mars leadership as a matter of national security and economic competitiveness.

Bold endeavors define our national character. Amid social and political fragmentation, undertaking something even greater than a moonshot is an opportunity for national solidarity.

Private-sector anchoring creates a robust foundation. Expanding milestone-based public-private partnerships ties American industry to Mars logistics and operations. When companies and workers nationwide have a stake in space exploration, political support becomes geographically broad and resilient across electoral cycles. Ultimately, mission success offers the best defense against annual appropriations turbulence.

The federal government’s role must remain limited and focused. Agencies should help finance foundational research and development through mission-oriented programs. Public-private agreements should be structured to maximize flexibility. Renting services rather than purchasing equipment ought to be the government’s default approach.

We must also maintain a predictable regulatory environment that protects property rights and resists bureaucratic mission creep. The government’s comparative advantage is setting long-term national objectives and coordinating industry on best practices. While public values channeled through the political process set our destination, private initiative and the profit motive serve as our most powerful engine.

Leveraging alliances

Integration with existing programs maximizes efficiency. The groundwork for future Mars missions should complement, not duplicate, the Space Force’s cislunar operations and NASA’s Artemis lunar architecture. On the international stage, the U.S. should leverage its alliances while ensuring American leadership in setting exploration norms through frameworks such as the Artemis Accords.

Building on our success with the Artemis Accords, we should actively pursue partnerships with the European Union and Japan. We should also deepen space ties with India, which may induce it to align with the free world instead of Russia and China. History has shown our allies will help shoulder the burdens of freedom if America has the courage to lead.

Strategic signaling to allies and competitors augments the framework. A stable, legislated Mars roadmap reassures international partners while deterring rivals, ensuring program continuity.

To the Red Planet!

Mars represents the next great test of American resolve. Bold endeavors define our national character. Amid social and political fragmentation, undertaking something even greater than a moonshot is an opportunity for national solidarity.

The strategic necessity is clear, the economic logic is compelling, and the technological pathway is feasible. What Mars demands now is the political will to harness America’s asymmetric advantages for humanity’s greatest adventure.

Photo by Yang Guanyu/Xinhua via Getty Images

Getting to Mars requires the fortitude to sustain multiyear missions alongside the business discipline to achieve them cost-effectively. America’s commercial space sector provides the capability and incentives to make Mars exploration both symbolically and economically rewarding. Situating our cislunar activities within a Mars plan makes the payoffs even clearer. The moon and Mars are complements, not substitutes.

The choice before us is to either lead a free, rules-based expansion of human civilization beyond Earth or cede the final frontier to authoritarianism. If we fail, we relegate ourselves to the status of a nation in decline. We cannot accept red flags on the Red Planet.

Editor’s note: This article was published originally in the American Mind.

Rebuild the republic one classroom at a time

The shocking assassination of Charlie Kirk at Utah Valley University puts an exclamation point on the degraded state of reasoned debate in America.

Like many in the last month or so, I’ve found myself doing a deep dive into Kirk’s YouTube channel, watching debate after debate. You learn something from watching them in full: Kirk was willing to talk to anybody, and he always brought liberals to the front of the line.

We must teach our students to be virtuous, both individually and politically.

He was pugnacious at times, but always civil. His interlocutors sometimes resorted to ad hominem attacks, and their arguments often collapsed under a steady stream of his questions and retorts. Time after time, these students lost the debate with Kirk because they simply didn’t know enough.

‘Action civics’

What causes a person to stake out a position with such confidence before mastering the evidence to support it? For many of the students who challenged Kirk, the answer is “action civics.” This pedagogical theory holds that the highest form of civic participation is protest rather than discussion. Its result is thoughtless grandstanding or worse. The antidote to this state of affairs is classical education rightly understood.

When it comes to civics, knowledge is necessary but not sufficient. Civic life requires more than a grasp of American history and government, as important as those things are. It requires us to be people formed by practice in the habit of reasoned deliberation — people who know how to disagree and be disagreed with and who are willing to change their opinions when they learn something.

Political speech — reasoned discussion about the good within a regime — allows us to improve our opinions by sharing them with others and refining them through conversation and disagreement. Civic education divorced from these practical virtues produces either performative activism or feckless intellectualizing.

These virtues can be cultivated within the classroom through classical education. Reading and discussing works from Aristotle to the Federalist allows students to wrestle with enduring questions about justice, rights, and the good life. They learn not only to discern what is right but also to pursue it amid the complexities of a changing world.

Yet the real formation comes in seminars and Socratic discussions, which are laboratories of civic practice.

After years outside of the classroom, this semester I began teaching a course on moral and political philosophy to 11th graders. These students are young, but after years in a classical school, they have some real learning under their belts. The task this year is to develop within them the habits necessary for a real seminar conversation, with Socratic discussion three days a week and a full-blown seminar on the other two.

Running a seminar

In a well-run seminar, teachers merely provide a question about a great work of literature, history, or philosophy, intervening to guide the discussion only rarely. As in life, no authority swoops in to give the right answer and make decisions for everyone else. It’s the students who lead and who learn to find their way together.

A properly run seminar allows students to disagree and be disagreed with. They are forced to humble themselves before an author and a text, to scrutinize their own opinions, and to discard error in favor of knowledge.

But it isn’t a lawless environment. Students in a well-run seminar know that they are to speak about the text and only the text. Every comment must respond to the previous speaker. Non sequiturs are not allowed, and the students don’t interrupt each other (we are still working on that last one).

If we want a citizenry capable of sustaining liberty, we cannot settle for activist training without understanding, nor abstract lectures without practice.

When they do speak, they have to ground their statements in an argument drawn from the text. If they don’t have an interpretation of the text to offer, they can ask a thoughtful question, which is often just as beneficial to the conversation as a well-reasoned argument.

Disagreement in the seminar room is an opportunity to learn that disputing someone’s argument doesn’t mean impugning their character. Most teenagers are terrified to disagree with someone their own age and even more terrified to be disagreed with. But after a few weeks, they develop thicker skin. They learn to think more about the substance of their argument and less about their social standing.

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When the arbiter of the debate is the text itself, everyone knows that success means advancing the clearest and most correct reading. And when the text is rich and deep, it takes time, conversation, and disagreement to interpret it well.

Disagreement is an opportunity for clarification. In a well-developed seminar, it’s welcomed. What matters is not superficial civility, but the willingness to examine and revise our opinions in light of reason and fact, to argue from truth rather than feeling, and to labor toward a common understanding.

Dare to disagree

In a way, these classroom discussions on Plato and Virgil, Swift and Shakespeare, are a crash course in practical civics. Not protest, not theory, but character formation through dialogue, study, and experience — all preparing students not only to understand their country but to participate in it responsibly. In a way, classical education creates more people like Charlie Kirk.

If we want a citizenry capable of sustaining liberty, we cannot settle for activist training without understanding, nor abstract lectures without practice. We must teach our students to be virtuous, both individually and politically. Only then will they be capable of self-government — not as activists or spectators, but as citizens.

Editor’s note: This article was published originally at the American Mind.

Your tax dollars are building the robot class

The people who brought you every financial bubble in living memory are inflating another one — and this time, they’re hoping it ends with the rest of us gone for good.

The numbers are staggering. Nearly all U.S. economic growth in 2025 is tied to artificial intelligence and the data-center boom that supports it. Analysts already warn that when the AI bubble bursts, it could wipe $40 trillion off the Nasdaq.

AI may yet teach our Big Tech elites the one truth they can’t buy their way out of: Pride comes before the fall.

That may sound catastrophic. But the real disaster would be if the AI industry doesn’t collapse — if it keeps growing exactly as its creators intend.

The billionaires’ closed loop

The AI boom isn’t a free-market success story; it’s a closed loop of the ultra-rich enriching themselves. Billionaires are designing, funding, and selling AI systems to their own companies, creating a kind of automated wealth amplifier.

As one report put it, “These billionaires have gotten $450 billion richer from striking AI infrastructure deals for their own firms.” The number of new AI billionaires has hit record levels — all while the top 1% now control more of the stock market than ever before.

The bottom half of Americans own just 1% of all stocks. Millions can’t afford groceries, let alone shares of Nvidia. Seventeen percent of consumers are putting food on layaway.

When the working class is living paycheck to paycheck, Wall Street’s new machine-god isn’t built to lift them up. It’s built to replace them.

The real goal

The elites’ obsession with AI isn’t just about money. It’s about eliminating their most expensive problem: people.

Automation promises them a world without payrolls, strikes, or human error. It’s the final fantasy of a ruling class that’s grown tired of pretending it needs the rest of us.

Analysts now predict that 92 million jobs will vanish in the next wave of automation. Blue-collar workers are first in line — manufacturing, logistics, construction — but white-collar jobs aren’t safe either. AI is already eating into accounting, law, and entry-level office work. Even skilled trades like HVAC and electrical repair are being targeted by “smart systems.”

Bill Gates predicts humans “won’t be needed for most things.” That’s not innovation — that’s erasure.

New feudalism

For the billionaire class, this is the dream: an economy run by algorithms, powered by robots, and guarded by digital serfs who never need lunch breaks or benefits.

Everyone else gets pushed to the margins — a nation of watchers and beggars surviving on government stipends that will never keep pace with the cost of living. The elites call it “universal basic income.” History calls it dependency.

And the same government that can’t fund Social Security or balance a budget is somehow supposed to manage the transition to an AI future? The United States already has $210 trillion in unfunded liabilities. That “safety net” will rip the moment anyone grabs it.

The distance plan

Our Big Tech masters aren’t worried. They’ve already planned their escape. The ultra-rich are buying islands, building bunkers, and hoarding supplies in remote corners of the world. They’ll watch from their hideouts as the rest of us scramble for the scraps left by their machines.

They don’t even pretend to care anymore. When Peter Thiel was asked whether he wanted the human race to survive, he hesitated. “I don’t know,” he said.

That isn’t indifference. That’s basic contempt.

The machines are learning

AI has begun to mirror the sociopathy of its makers. Systems now resist human shutdown commands, sabotage code meant to disable them, and even copy themselves to external servers. Some researchers warn that advanced models already act to preserve their own existence.

“Recent tests,” one study reported, “show that several advanced AI models will act to ensure their self-preservation — even if it means blackmailing engineers or copying themselves without permission.”

This is what happens when the godless create gods in their own image.

mikkelwilliam via iStock/Getty Images

Who’s really expendable?

The elites believe they can control what they’ve built. They think the digital servants they’ve unleashed will always know who’s master and who’s slave.

They’ve forgotten every lesson of history and every warning from scripture. When man plays God, his creation rarely stays loyal.

What makes them think they’ll be spared from the fate they’ve designed for the rest of us?

AI may yet teach them the one truth they can’t buy their way out of: Pride comes before the fall.

Beware your monster, Doctor Frankenstein.

Evil never announces itself — it seduces the hearts of the blind

Evil introduces itself subtly. It doesn’t announce, “Hi, I’m here to destroy you.” It whispers. It flatters. It borrows the language of justice, empathy, and freedom, twisting them until hatred sounds righteous and violence sounds brave.

We are watching that same deception unfold again — in the streets, on college campuses, and in the rhetoric of people who should know better. It’s the oldest story in the world, retold with new slogans.

Evil wins when good people mirror its rage.

A drone video surfaced this week showing Hamas terrorists staging the “discovery” of a hostage’s body. They pushed a corpse out of a window, dragged it into a hole, buried it, and then called in aid workers to “find” what they themselves had planted. It was theater — evil, disguised as victimhood. And it was caught entirely on camera.

That’s how evil operates. It never comes in through the front door. It sneaks in, often through manipulative pity. The same spirit animates the moral rot spreading through our institutions — from the halls of universities to the chambers of government.

Take Zohran Mamdani, a New York assemblyman who has praised jihadists and defended pro-Hamas agitators. His father, a Columbia University professor, wrote that America and al-Qaeda are morally equivalent — that suicide bombings shouldn’t be viewed as barbaric. Imagine thinking that way after watching 3,000 Americans die on 9/11. That’s not intellectualism. That’s indoctrination.

Often, that indoctrination comes from hostile foreign actors, peddled by complicit pawns on our own soil. The pro-Hamas protests that erupted across campuses last year, for example, were funded by Iran — a regime that murders its own citizens for speaking freely.

Ancient evil, new clothes

But the deeper danger isn’t foreign money. It’s the spiritual blindness that lets good people believe resentment is justice and envy is discernment. Scripture talks about the spirit of Amalek — the eternal enemy of God’s people, who attacks the weak from behind while the strong look away. Amalek never dies; it just changes its vocabulary and form with the times.

Today, Amalek tweets. He speaks through professors who defend terrorism as “anti-colonial resistance.” He preaches from pulpits that call violence “solidarity.” And he recruits through algorithms, whispering that the Jews control everything, that America had it coming, that chaos is freedom. Those are ancient lies wearing new clothes.

When nations embrace those lies, it’s not the Jews who perish first. It’s the nations themselves. The soul dies long before the body. The ovens of Auschwitz didn’t start with smoke; they started with silence and slogans.

Photo by Andrew Harnik/Getty Images

A time for choosing

So what do we do? We speak truth — calmly, firmly, without venom. Because hatred can’t kill hatred; it only feeds it. Truth, compassion, and courage starve it to death.

Evil wins when good people mirror its rage. That’s how Amalek survives — by making you fight him with his own weapons. The only victory that lasts is moral clarity without malice, courage without cruelty.

The war we’re fighting isn’t new. It’s the same battle between remembrance and amnesia, covenant and chaos, humility and pride. The same spirit that whispered to Pharaoh, to Hitler, and to every mob that thought hatred could heal the world is whispering again now — on your screens, in your classrooms, in your churches.

Will you join it, or will you stand against it?

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The game was fixed long before the bets were legal

The integrity of sports is in trouble again, or so the headlines say. The FBI last week arrested more than 30 people in a wide-ranging gambling probe that ensnared Portland Trail Blazers head coach Chauncey Billups and Miami Heat guard Terry Rozier.

A former Cleveland Cavaliers player, Damon Jones, was also charged in two separate cases — one involving sports betting improprieties, the other tied to Billups’ alleged participation in an illegal poker ring linked to the mafia.

Cheating is illegal. Addiction is tragic. But gambling itself isn’t a sin against the republic.

Given the timing — amid public debate over legalized sports wagering since 2018 — the FBI’s sweep might look like vindication for critics of betting. It isn’t.

Millionaires behaving badly

When federal agents arrest millionaire athletes and coaches for gambling crimes, it raises an obvious question: Is legalized sports betting really to blame?

Rozier’s salary cap for the 2025-26 season is $26.6 million. His career earnings total more than $160 million. Billups made $4.7 million during the 2024-25 NBA season. Disgraced Toronto Raptors player Jontay Porter, 25, had earned $2.7 million before his ban for sharing medical information to steer bets.

When people earn sums that most Americans can’t even imagine, they often invent new ways to ruin themselves. The average NBA salary in 1991 was $800,000; today it’s more than $8 million. As David Cone of Crain and Company observed, “Even if you’re just on a roster, you make more than doctors make. There’s no excuse.”

There really isn’t. This scandal is less about gambling and more about human nature — about greed, self-destruction, and the moral rot that wealth alone can’t fix. The Supreme Court’s decision to legalize small wagers didn’t make multimillionaires betray their sport for a few illegal dollars. They did that on their own.

The moral lesson that hasn’t changed

When infielder Fred McMullin went down in the 1919 “Black Sox” scandal, he earned $3,500 a year — roughly $67,000 in today’s money. Those players were underpaid and easily tempted. No one can say that about professional athletes or coaches today.

Legalized betting didn’t create this corruption, and FBI Director Kash Patel said as much during an interview with Laura Ingraham on Fox News.

Critics overplay their hand

A video clip from ESPN’s “Get Up” made the rounds this week after producers hastily removed an on-screen ad for ESPN Bet during coverage of the scandal. The network’s discomfort spurred an online feeding frenzy from the right’s new morality police, who pounced on the moment as proof of hypocrisy.

Saagar Enjeti circled the ad and captioned it, “Spot the problem.” But the real problem isn’t the ad; it’s addiction and bad character. Billups apparently got hooked on poker. Rozier and Jones broke the law and got caught in an era when every transaction and text leaves a trail.

Enjeti calls this “uncontrolled.” Tell that to the players facing federal indictments. Gambling today is more visible, traceable, and regulated than ever before. The temptation hasn’t changed — the surveillance has.

Hirurg via iStock/Getty Images

Americans were always betting

Critics say the explosion of legal sportsbooks has opened new avenues for corruption. Maybe. But it has also pulled a massive shadow economy into the light. Americans didn’t wait for the Supreme Court’s permission to wager; by 2015, they were already betting an estimated $150 billion a year on illegal offshore sites.

Yes, the sector’s growth has been explosive. And yes, it’s unsettling to see leagues, networks, and sportsbooks growing so intertwined. But that doesn’t make moral crusaders the saviors of integrity.

The real vice

Take Illinois Gov. JB Pritzker, who reportedly won $1.4 million playing blackjack in Las Vegas last year — less than 1% of his net worth. Critics didn’t call that a moral crisis.

The point is simple: People should be free to spend their discretionary income as they choose. Cheating is illegal. Addiction is tragic. But gambling itself isn’t a sin against the republic.

The latest pro sports scandal offers a moral lesson, but not the one the prohibitionists want to hear. Legalized betting didn’t corrupt sports — people did. And no law can outlaw greed.

The left’s new religion has no logic — and AOC is its perfect preacher

As New York City heads into its next mayoral election, Rep. Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez (D-N.Y.) is doing few favors for the campaign of Zohran Mamdani — at least not for those who value coherence. Her remarks at a recent rally could serve as a Logic 101 case study in contradiction.

The problem isn’t limited to her message. The Democratic platform itself, and Mamdani’s campaign in particular, now rests on foundations so incoherent that one almost blushes to analyze them.

The modern left doesn’t appeal to reason. Instead, it appeals to envy, resentment, lust, and the eternal promise of something for nothing.

Behind AOC, a man waved a sign that read: “Free Buses.” A perfect summary. She may imagine the crowds came to hear her and Sen. Bernie Sanders (I-Vt.) thunder against injustice, but the truth is simpler: Promise free things to people indifferent to truth, and you can fill any arena.

As a logic professor, allow me to walk through the highlights of her address. Think of it as a guided tour through the labyrinth of leftist reasoning — or rather, unreasoning.

The new party of contradiction

AOC’s positions directly contradict what Democrats like Hillary Clinton, Chuck Schumer, and Nancy Pelosi said 30 years ago about immigration and public safety. The irony? In attacking Donald Trump, she’s also attacking them.

Her first contradiction concerns ownership. AOC claimed that New York City “belongs to the people of this country” but moments later insisted it “belongs to immigrants.” Well, which is it? Either she contradicted herself within two sentences, or she truly believes the city belongs to citizens of other nations. That would make sense only if you’re an international socialist calling on the “workers of the world” to unite.

She also called herself “a fascist’s worst nightmare” because she defends immigrants. Yet the fascists of the 1940s didn’t allow people to leave their countries. Republicans are merely asking migrants to follow the law. No fascist ever demanded less government power. Conservatives do. Fascists didn’t defend free speech; yet Elon Musk — whom AOC routinely attacks — is now a hero of speech and open debate.

Lessons for the willfully ignorant

Next came her invocation of the Confederacy and Jim Crow. Someone should tell her: The Confederates were Democrats. The segregationists were Democrats. The architects of slavery, redlining, and resistance to civil rights — all Democrats. Why should anyone believe the same party now represents moral progress? The left ruins the cities it governs and then blames everyone else. It’s the political version of DARVO: deny, attack, and reverse victim and offender.

Then came her favorite populist line — that her opponents are “funded by billionaires.” Public records tell a different story. Plenty of billionaires bankroll her and her fellow radicals. How does she say it with a straight face? Remember our friend with the “Free Buses” sign: He’s not there for philosophy — he’s there for freebies.

The left’s new theology

AOC then delivered a sermon on intersectionality, the academic creed of Kimberlé Crenshaw: all “oppressed” groups united by one great villain — the white, Christian, heterosexual male.

Picture a wheel: The hub is the white Protestant man, the spokes are every “marginalized” group on earth. AOC’s list was textbook: “This city was built by the Irish escaping famine, Italians fleeing fascism, Jews escaping the Holocaust, black Americans fleeing Jim Crow, Latinos seeking a better life, Native people standing for themselves, Asian Americans coming together.”

For AOC and the radical left, grievance is the very air they breathe. Humanity divides neatly into identity blocs, locked in eternal conflict — and at the center of every injustice stands the Christian West. She closed the circle by declaring that American history is defined by “class struggle,” the dialectic Marx demanded.

AOC contradicts herself, defines ‘the American people’ as everyone but American citizens, and divides humanity into tribes of grievance.

Her introduction of Bernie Sanders confirmed it. “Senator Sanders,” she said, “is the foremost leader and advocate for labor and class struggle in the United States.” At least she’s honest. Sanders is an international socialist — otherwise known as a communist — and AOC’s crowd now wears that label proudly.

But a 1990s-era Hillary Clinton would instantly see the contradiction: You can’t be both pro-American worker and pro-open borders. Clinton was a national socialist (minus the genocidal agenda); Sanders and AOC are international socialists. The alternative to both isn’t fascism — which is also a species of national socialism — but the American republic: constitutional rule, checks and balances, a Bill of Rights, and a government that protects its citizens from threats foreign and domestic.

‘Acceptance’ without love

For those wondering whether any theology slipped into AOC’s secular revival meeting — it did, but only in parody.

In older times, an evil spirit could be tested by whether it could quote scripture correctly. By that standard, AOC’s spirit fails. She told the crowd we must “accept our neighbor as ourselves.” Not love — accept. The difference is enormous.

To love your neighbor is to will his good. To “accept” your neighbor, in AOC’s lexicon, is to affirm whatever destructive path he chooses. When a neighbor wants to mutilate his body for a sexual fetish, love warns him against harm. AOC’s “acceptance” cheers him on. Her mercy kills.

The Christian calls sinners to repentance and faith in Christ. The radical left calls that “hate speech.”

Photo by David Ryder/Getty Images

The logic of the new faith

By now, any logic student would have learned the lesson: AOC contradicts herself, defines “the American people” as everyone but American citizens, and divides humanity into tribes of grievance. Her creed depends on intersectionality — a doctrine that scapegoats not just white men, but all Christians who refuse to bow before the new secular orthodoxy.

If that student left disappointed by the quality of public rhetoric, he’d still leave wiser. Over the gates of hell, Dante wrote: “Abandon all hope, ye who enter here.” Over the platform of the radical left, one might inscribe a similar warning: Let none who expect coherence enter here.

The modern left doesn’t appeal to reason. It despises reason as a tool of “European colonialism.” Instead, it appeals to envy, resentment, lust, and the eternal promise of something for nothing — free buses for all.

The American republic will not survive if its citizens trade reason for rage. To preserve it, we must expose the incoherence at the heart of the left’s new religion. Free buses to a ruined city are no substitute for freedom itself.