“Power trumps money fundamentally. And I think we’ve seen the extent to which these companies are very subservient to the US government. Because the US government can break them in an instant.” — Jack Watling on whether Anthropic and OpenAI can become geopolitical players

 

In Cormac McCarthy’s 2005 novel No Country for Old Men, an ageing Texas sheriff finds himself outmatched by a killer operating by a logic the old rules can’t contain. It’s the story of a man shaped by one world, and then trying to operate in an entirely different system.

 

That’s also the situation facing many statesmen today who are having to operate in an international system where the old rules no longer apply. The British military strategist Jack Watling [https://www.panmacmillan.com/authors/jack-watling/statecraft/9781035059034] argues in his new book Statecraft: The New Rules of Power in a Divided World [https://www.panmacmillan.com/authors/jack-watling/statecraft/9781035059034] that we have moved from a monopolar world to one of intensely multipolar competition where adversaries can subvert all the premises of another state’s strategy.

 

These disruptive rules of the 21st century multipolar international system aren’t entirely new. There are, for example, eerie similarities with the chaotically multipolar system that led to the First World War. But they are new to the leaders who have to apply them. So, for example, they are having to deal with Vladimir Putin who is locked into an eighth-century Orthodox Holy Russian Empire fantasy. Or with the impulsive and disruptive Donald Trump whose only goal, it sometimes seems, is to subvert all the rules of the old world. These are Jack Watling’s new rules of power in a divided world. New statecraft for old men. Or maybe old statecraft for new men.

 

Five Takeaways

 

•       The Rules Are New to the Leaders, Not the World: Watling’s thesis: many of the principles in his book are old, as a historian he knows that. But they are new to the current crop of political leaders because they were formed in a monopolar world where America had primacy, crises were resolved, and the status quo was restored. We are now in a period of intense interstate competition where changes are permanent — the interventions that are being made fundamentally shift the trend. That does require a new way of thinking. The tragedy is that the leaders who most need to think in new ways — Putin and Trump in particular — are the least capable of it.

 

•       Putin vs Trump: Two Different Kinds of Fallibility: Putin has locked himself into a rubric of looking at the world through the lens of the Orthodox Holy Russian Empire — a framework that doesn’t align with how anyone else reads the map. He’s not a pragmatic dealmaker; when you get him to the table, as Trump found in Alaska, he starts referring back to the eighth century. Trump is very different: much less cautious, much more impulsive, skilled at making the conversation happen on his terms by disrupting everything around him. The problem with impulsive rather than deliberate is that he has no clear idea of where he wants to get to. Both fallible. Neither predictable.

 

•       The WWI Parallel: Over By Christmas: Watling’s most sobering analogy: when we look at 1914, nobody thought it would become what it became. The assumption was over by Christmas. It grew out of any capacity to control it. Today, the rules between the great powers don’t reflect where power actually sits. The capacity for a conflagration — Taiwan being the obvious tipping point — to suddenly trigger a series of escalations around the world is very real. We have to be cognisant that risk is latent in the system. The outcome we most wish to avoid is also the most mutually calamitous one. That’s not a guarantee

No Statecraft for Old Men: Jack Watling on the New Rules of Power in a Chaotic World

“That’s not the America that I believed in and that I chose to merge my fate with.” — David Frum on Trump’s predatory foreign policy

 

What does it mean to be an American? It’s a slippery question — especially for those of us born outside the United States. Take, for example, David Frum [https://www.theatlantic.com/author/david-frum/], the Toronto-born writer and Presidential speechwriter who coined the phrase “Axis of Evil” in 2002. Back then, it included Iran, Iraq and North Korea. Today, one wonders if Frum, who has written two powerful jeremiads about Donald Trump, would include what he calls this "fascoid" in this exclusive club.

 

Frum still lives part of the year on Loyalist Parkway in Ontario — a road honouring British troops fleeing the American Revolution. From his deck, what remains of the Canadian in Frum gazes across Lake Ontario at the American shore. The lights on the other side of the lake, he admits, are more glittering. But unlike Nick Carraway in his favourite American novel The Great Gatsby, David Frum isn’t seduced by all that glitters. Carraway, Frum says, is an unreliable narrator impressed by the gangster glamour of Jay Gatsby. But Gatsby, like Donald Trump, Frum reminds us, is a criminal. And Gatsby, perhaps also like Trump, is at least part of the answer of what it means to be an American.

 

Five Takeaways

 

•       Loyalist Parkway: Canada as the Product of the American Revolution: Frum spends part of the year on Loyalist Parkway in Ontario — a road named for the refugees who fled the American Revolution northward and settled across Lake Ontario. Canada, in his telling, is the product of what he calls the American civil war that nobody calls that: the revolution of 1776. It was, for the Loyalists, a shattering loss. From his house, he looks across the lake at the American shore. There is something brighter there, more glittering, more charged. That particular Canadian vantage point — attracted to and slightly outside of America — is where Frum and Zakaria both live.

 

•       Predatory America: Trump vs the American Tradition: America is currently at war with Iran. Trump’s stated aim, in Frum’s analysis, is purely predatory — to take Iran’s oil, enrich the United States by impoverishing Iranians, plunder like a bandit. He compares this to Trump’s Venezuela policy. Frum’s verdict: that is a president against the American tradition. George W. Bush — whatever the failures of the Iraq war — went to Iraq to overthrow a dictatorship and bring a better future. He went in the name of American ideals. Trump invokes no ideals. He just wants the oil.

 

•       The Axis of Evil Defence: Andrew raises the uncomfortable parallel: Frum coined “axis of evil,” worked for Bush, helped set the fuse for the wars that led, arguably, to the current moment. Frum’s defence is structural. The Iraq war of 2003 was the continuation of a conflict that began when Saddam Hussein invaded Kuwait in 1990. Bill Clinton nearly returned to war with Iraq in 1994 and struck it in 1998, for the same reason: Iraq’s violation of the 1991 armistice. Bush was following that path. He went to war in the name of ideals. He didn’t go to steal Iraq’s oil. That is the American tradition, even in failure.

 

•       Nick Carraway Is an Unreliable Narrator: The conversation’s most surprising section: Frum on The Great Gatsby. Nick Carraway, Frum argues, is not a reliable guide to Gatsby’s moral complexity. He is a narrator seduced by gangster glamour — who constructs moral explanations for an attraction he knows he shouldn’t feel. The tell: Nick is horrified by the glamour one night, then thrilled the next morning to fly in Gatsby’s private seaplane. Gatsby is a criminal. And Gatsby is, for Fitzgerald, a symbol of America: a self-inven

The David Frum Show: Frum on Gatsby, Trump the Fascoid and What It Means to Be an American

“The same creative and political forces that gave rise to [San Francisco’s] boom nearly engineered its collapse.” — Jonathan Weber

 

In Hitchcock’s Vertigo, the quintessential San Francisco movie, the villain points to an old painting of the city and tells Jimmy Stewart that San Francisco has changed. The real city has been lost, he says. Somebody has stolen San Francisco’s soul.

 

The veteran tech journalist Jonathan Weber [https://www.simonandschuster.com/books/City-on-the-Edge/Jonathan-Weber/9781668074916] is the latest writer to search for that soul. In City on the Edge: Technology, Politics, and the Fight for the Soul of San Francisco [https://www.simonandschuster.com/books/City-on-the-Edge/Jonathan-Weber/9781668074916], Weber bemoans the disappearance of the real San Francisco — the city not just of the Beats and the Counterculture but also of ordinary teachers and policemen. We’ve had thirty years of boom, bust, and Big Tech. The ordinary folks of San Francisco have been replaced by a new class of tech bros.

 

In 1992, just 2% of San Franciscans worked in tech. By 2019 it was 35%. As a longtime San Franciscan, Weber had a front-row seat on the dot-com mania, the rise of social media, Uber and Airbnb, the pandemic’s great emptying of downtown, and now the AI boom driven by the San Francisco-based Anthropic and OpenAI. In City on the Edge, Weber argues that the same creative and political forces that gave rise to the boom — the counterculture’s anarchic spirit, the city’s love affair with eccentricity, the tech industry’s utopian self-belief — also engineered its near-collapse. Digital vertigo, so to speak. Once again somebody has stolen San Francisco’s soul.

 

Five Takeaways

 

•       From 2% to 35%: The Numbers Behind the Transformation: In 1992, just 2% of San Francisco workers were in tech. By 2019 it was 35%. The book traces how this happened: a city economically troubled in the early 1990s, still reeling from AIDS and the 1989 Loma Prieta earthquake, with its manufacturing base gone and its corporate headquarters thinning out. Into this vacuum came a group of free-thinking technologists immersed in the city’s creative counterculture. They invented the contemporary internet. What followed was one of the most rapid urban transformations in American history.

 

•       The Cacophony Society and the Founding of Burning Man: Before the tech boom, San Francisco in the early 1990s had a remarkable underground culture. Weber writes about the Cacophony Society — the group of anarchic free spirits who effectively founded the Burning Man festival. The Cacophony Society emerged from the counterculture of the 1960s through various evolutions — Situationist pranks, urban exploration, radical creativity. Burning Man began as their annual trip to the Black Rock Desert. The spirit of that founding: go somewhere, build something, be someone different, leave no trace. That spirit was the soul of the city too.

 

•       The City of Nostalgia: Always Believing Yesterday Was Better: Weber takes his Vertigo reference seriously. San Francisco is structurally a city of nostalgia — people arrive with a fixed idea of what the city is, and it inevitably becomes something different. The gap between the idea and the reality generates permanent mourning. This is not unique to San Francisco — Trump has built a presidency on the idea that things were better in the 1950s — but it is intensified here by the height of the hopes people bring. The city means something bigger than itself. That is both its greatest asset and its permanent wound.

 

•       The AI Boom and the Coming IPO Earthquake: The current AI boom is, in Weber’s reading, likely to be the largest yet. OpenAI and Anthropic are both based in

Save San Francisco’s Soul: Jonathan Weber on Technology and Politics in the City By the Bay

“I never knew, and I was a bright kid. I didn’t know who the mayor of New York was, but I could tell you the names of all the mafia guys on the corner.” — Vincent Coppola

 

So we finally found a Coppola for the show. No, not Francis Ford. But somebody just as cool and even more authentic. The longtime Newsweek reporter Vincent Coppola [https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781250904126/gowanuscrossing/] grew up in Brooklyn three subway stops from Manhattan, but never went there until he was a teenager, nor even visited Central Park until his twenties. Coppola’s version of Brooklyn, a teeming Italian ghetto squeezed between the banks of the polluted Gowanus Canal, no longer exists. Except in his exquisitely rendered new memoir, Gowanus Crossing: A Brooklyn Boyhood [https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781250904126/gowanuscrossing/], which has the most delicious story about an Easter pie recipe you’ll ever read.

 

The Brooklyn of Vinnie’s childhood was intact, insular, cut off from everywhere more than three stops away. It had its own government — the Mafia; its own religion — the Catholic Church; its own poisoned geography — the Gowanus Canal. A world inside a world. He didn’t know who the mayor of New York was, but he knew the name of every wise guy on every street corner. To a kid, Gowanus was a magical place. The grown Vinnie (now called Vincent), having crossed his own Rubicon to attend Columbia journalism school, describes it as a “toxic snow globe.” Brooklyn über alles. Or, more authentically, al primo posto. Especially now, when only a real Coppola can resurrect it.

 

Five Takeaways

 

•       A Toxic Snow Globe: Cut Off Three Stops from Manhattan: Coppola grew up in an Italian enclave on the Gowanus Canal — a waterway that was, unbeknownst to its residents, one of the most polluted in America. The community was so insular that Coppola — a bright, bookish kid — never went to Manhattan until he was a teenager, never visited Central Park until he was in his twenties, though he was three subway stops away. He knew the names of all the Mafia guys on the corner. He did not know who the mayor of New York was. A toxic snow globe: its own rules, its own government, its own religion. Intact and entirely cut off from the rest of the world.

 

•       The Mafia as Shadow Government: The Mafia was not background colour in Coppola’s childhood. It was the actual government. Police from the 78th Precinct pulled up to the social club on Sundays; officers walked in and walked out with brown paper bags full of cash. Squad cars ferried a hitman — the bodyguard of Carmine Persico — as if they were taxis. This corrupted any childlike innocence about institutions. The stereotype of the nice policeman, the honest cop, the beloved priest: none of them applied. Because they were poor, nobody cared. Nobody cared about the canal being polluted until real estate people came in.

 

•       The Predatory Priest and the Code of Silence: A local priest molested altar boys for decades, including Coppola’s best friend. Nobody in the community knew. Coppola’s observation: if the Mafia had known, they would have killed that man. It would have been that simple. Two oppressive codes of silence — the Mafia’s omertà and the Church’s own silence — operated in parallel. One protected criminals who were also community pillars. The other protected a predator. The community was too poor, too preoccupied, too isolated to see what was happening in front of their eyes.

 

•       The Easter Pie Recipe: A Story About Secrets and Mothers: One of the great set pieces of the book. Coppola was obsessed throughout his life with a specific Easter pastry — pizza di grano, a grain pie — that the old neighbourhood women made and would not share the recipe for. He w

Brooklyn Al Primo Posto: Vincent Coppola’s Magical Memoir of the Church, the Mafia and the Gowanus Canal

“The hyperreal is the real. The surreal is the real in The United States. We’ve reached that point. The absurd is the real. And so that’s what I was trying to capture in the book.” — Ben Fountain

 

Our absurdist-in-chief wants a $250 banknote with his face on it. But the satirist Ben Fountain [https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781250776549/rasputinswimsthepotomac/] gives the President something even more valuable. In his new novel Rasputin Swims the Potomac [https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781250776549/rasputinswimsthepotomac/], Fountain delivers something quite priceless: a book that Trump deserves.

 

In Fountain’s novel, a sitting president, running for a third term, enlists a world champion professional wrestler, Grigory Yefimovich Rasputin, to help secure his re-election. Born Patrick Walsh Strickland in Buffalo, New York, Rasputin served in special forces in Afghanistan and Iraq, spent six years in a monastery, became fluent in Russian, and claims to be a real Russian monk. Evangelicals start defecting to Rasputin. A pandemic of “weeping sickness” sweeps the nation. It’s almost as unbelievable as a sitting President wanting a $250 banknote glowing with his orange face.

 

Fountain’s parallels with late Tsarist Russia are hard to miss — the chasmic wealth inequality, the impossible get-rich schemes, the quack religions, the gilded decadence, the dying social classes, the mad politicians. It’s scary stuff. Fountain says that we should even be careful taking his summer novel to the beach. Rather than Jaws-dropping, Rasputin Swims the Potomac, he warns, might bite us back. Maybe we should put Ben Fountain’s face on that $250 bill.

 

Five Takeaways

 

•       The Hyperreal Is the Real: America Has Beaten Its Satirists: When Fountain sat down to write the book in early 2023, he was thinking about the blurring of the line between reality and fantasy in American life. Trump, throughout his career, has blurred that line to masterful effect. Fountain’s question: what would be the next step on that continuum? His answer: professional wrestling — famously fake, scripted, and yet real, happening in real flesh and blood. Suppose a wrestler ran for president as his wrestling persona, with the fake baked in and everyone knowing it’s fake. Suppose the country buys it. Because the hyperreal is the real. The surreal is the real. America has already reached that point.

 

•       Why Wrestling, Not Politics: Jesse Ventura — “Jesse the Body” — ran for governor of Minnesota and won. But he ran as Jesse Ventura himself. Fountain’s innovation: a wrestler who runs as his or her wrestling persona, with the character fully intact. Rasputin — born Patrick Walsh Strickland in Buffalo, special forces veteran, six years in a Russian monastery, world champion wrestler in Japan, legally changed name — never breaks character. He is the historical Rasputin, back from the dead, a holy man of the Russian Orthodox Church. Evangelicals start defecting to him because he’s speaking their language. The fake is the real.

 

•       Late Tsarist Russia and Contemporary America: Striking Parallels: Fountain read three or four biographies of the historical Rasputin. The deeper he got, the more striking the parallels. Late Tsarist Russia: extreme wealth inequality, get-rich schemes everywhere in St Petersburg and Moscow, quack religions and spiritualists plying their trade, extreme decadence among the upper classes. A social structure that could not be maintained. People’s emotional responses to chaos. Fountain: not just in material terms but in terms of how people were feeling, the parallels to the United States are really striking. Gogol, not Baudrillard, is his natural ancestor.

 

•       The Satirist as Realist: Andrew raises Baud

Trump Finally Gets the Priceless Book He Deserves: Ben Fountain on How Rasputin Swims the Potomac

“The United States has conducted an unusually ideological foreign policy, an unusually economic foreign policy, and an unusually democratic foreign policy. These three features have been present from the eighteenth century to the present.” — Michael Mandelbaum

 

Is there an “American way” of foreign policy? Does that make the now almost 250 year-old republic unique? Michael Mandelbaum [https://global.oup.com/academic/product/the-american-way-of-foreign-policy-9780197840931], author of The American Way of Foreign Policy: Ideology, Economics, Democracy [https://global.oup.com/academic/product/the-american-way-of-foreign-policy-9780197840931], says yes and no. America is exceptional. But that exceptionalism is unexceptional.

 

Mandelbaum says that American foreign policy over the last 250 years has been unusually ideological, economic, and democratic. Foreign policy realists say great powers all behave the same way. Mandelbaum, as an idealist, says: not America. Uniquely in world history, he says, America has pursued its principles overseas without prioritising its political, economic, or military self-interest.

 

And yet The American Way of Foreign Policy isn’t triumphalist. Mandelbaum opposed NATO expansion in the 1990s. He was in the anti-Vietnam marches as a Harvard student in the Sixties. Nor is he partial to demonstrations of overt nationalism. His July 4 plans, for example, are to watch baseball. As a lucky man in a fortunate Republic, what better way to celebrate 250 years of independence than to enjoy its national pastime?

 

Five Takeaways

 

•       Three Distinctive Features: Ideological, Economic, Democratic: Mandelbaum’s thesis: American foreign policy has differed from the foreign policies of other countries in three enduring ways. First, ideological: political ideas and the effort to spread them have been more important to America than to other powers. Second, economic: America has used economic instruments to achieve political goals — trade, aid, sanctions — rather than the imperial model of using political power for economic gain. Third, democratic: American public opinion has always had greater influence over foreign policy than in other countries. For almost all other countries, for most of their histories, foreign policy was the preserve of a small elite. That was never true of the United States.

 

•       Idealist and Realist: Both Apply: Andrew invokes Kenneth Waltz and the realist tradition, which argues that great powers always behave the same way regardless of their self-image. Mandelbaum’s response: realism fits American foreign policy up to a point. America has fought twelve significant wars and has not been oblivious to military power. But it has also conducted idealist foreign policies that cannot be explained by realism — policies driven by its liberal political ideas rather than its material interests. The distinctive feature of American foreign policy is not that it ignores realism, but that it goes beyond realism in ways that other great powers have not.

 

•       NATO Expansion: Mandelbaum’s One Big Regret: In the 1990s, Mandelbaum was opposed to the expansion of NATO, alongside George Kennan — one of the architects of Cold War containment. His fear: it would do a lot to alienate Russia. He acknowledges that he cannot blame NATO expansion explicitly for the Russian attack on Ukraine. But he notes that the fear was reasonable and that, as he puts it, alas, it has come to pass. He does not think that the Russian attack was inevitable or that NATO caused it. But he does think the warning was worth issuing and that it deserved more serious consideration than it received.

 

•       Vietnam and the Antiwar Movement: Was It Counterproductive? As a graduate student

The Unexceptional Exceptionalism of the United States: Michael Mandelbaum on the American Way of Foreign Policy

“Objects in museums have to come from somewhere. The stories of how they came to be in those collections often involve laws being broken, unethical behaviour, and extreme violence.” — Matthew Campbell

 

Imagine a gay Jeffrey Epstein who set up shop in Thailand. Only rather than peddling young girls, he traded in bodybuilders and priceless antiquities. That’s the story of the British émigré Douglas Latchford, the subject of Matthew Campbell [https://www.penguinrandomhouse.com/books/739182/the-man-who-stole-the-gods-by-matthew-campbell/]’s new book The Man Who Stole the Gods [https://www.penguinrandomhouse.com/books/739182/the-man-who-stole-the-gods-by-matthew-campbell/]. It’s the true story of a man who was born in the last days of the British Raj, made his fortune in Bangkok, became the world’s leading dealer of Khmer antiquities, and was indicted for criminal conspiracy in 2019.

 

Campbell’s tale is simultaneously a crime story, a history of Cambodia, and a parable about the relationship between Western wealth and the world’s cultural heritage. The Khmer Empire, which dominated Southeast Asia from the ninth to the fifteenth centuries, produced one of the finest civilisations of the medieval world. Angkor in the twelfth century had 750,000 people — making it ten times the size of London. After the genocidal Khmer Rouge regime, every Khmer site in Cambodia was systematically looted. The pieces went to the Metropolitan Museum, to Christie’s, to private American collectors. Latchford was the central conduit. The Jeffrey Epstein enabler.

 

Like Epstein, Latchford got away with it for years. Unlike Epstein, he died a free man, even chalking up a 2020 New York Times obituary [https://www.nytimes.com/2020/08/27/arts/douglas-aj-latchford-khmer-antiquities-expert-dies-at-88.html] as a Khmer antiquities expert.

 

Five Takeaways

 

•       Douglas Latchford: The British Jeffrey Epstein of Asian Art: Born in the last days of the British Raj, educated in the UK, Latchford made his fortune in Bangkok and became the world’s leading dealer of Southeast Asian antiquities — selling pieces for millions of dollars to the Metropolitan Museum, Christie’s, and wealthy American collectors. He presented himself as an expert and connoisseur. He gave to universities and lent to exhibitions. He received a glowing obituary in the New York Times in August 2020. The dark side: he was, Campbell shows, the central organiser of a decades-long criminal conspiracy to loot Cambodia’s cultural heritage. He was indicted in 2019 but died before he could be extradited.

 

•       The Khmer Empire: 750,000 People When London Had 40,000: The Khmer Empire dominated Southeast Asia from the ninth to the fifteenth centuries, ruling directly or indirectly over what is now Thailand, Vietnam, Laos, and parts of Malaysia. Its capital, Angkor, had 750,000 people in the twelfth century — when London had 40,000 at the absolute outside. The Khmer built extraordinary temple cities — Angkor Wat is only the most famous — and produced remarkable stone and bronze sculpture. Every single Khmer site in Cambodia was systematically looted. The pieces all went somewhere. A great many came to the West.

 

•       The Vietnam War, Nixon, Kissinger, and the Conditions for Genocide: The Vietnam War is central to Campbell’s story. The Ho Chi Minh Trail ran partly through Cambodia, making Cambodia of great interest to Nixon and Kissinger. Beginning in 1968, large-scale American bombing of Cambodia — ostensibly aimed at destroying a supposed communist headquarters that, Campbell notes, never actually existed — helped destabilise the country and created the conditions in which the Khmer Rouge could emerge. The Khmer Rouge ideology: Pol Pot believed civilisation needed n

The Jeffrey Epstein of Antiquities: Matthew Campbell on the Man Who Got Away With Stealing the Gods,

“AI represents successful capitalism. What we have alongside that is unsuccessful government. Government has no plan — left or right.” — Keith Teare

 

It’s the 82nd anniversary of D-Day. On June 6, 1944, there was an unambiguous end game — the defeat of Nazi Germany. But today, end games are more controversial, especially in terms of harnessing the AI revolution to benefit everyone.

 

For Keith Teare [https://thatwa.st/], publisher of That Was the Week [https://thatwa.st/], the AI end game requires an “Institute of the Future.” Everyone from Bernie Sanders and Elizabeth Warren to Elon Musk and Sam Altman should hammer out a plan to harness AI for the benefit of society. Keith offers the internet governance organisation ICANN as a model for this institute. It will shape the future for all of our benefit, he promises.

 

So a D-Day for AI? I’m sceptical of this type of Brave New World-style technocracy. Firstly, Sanders, Warren, Musk and Altman agree on very little. And Musk and Altman hate each other. I’m also dubious that AI will or can benefit everyone. As Keith notes, some professions — teachers, for example — will be decimated by AI. Where I agree with Keith, however, is that we need a new politics for this new age. Political parties, rather than institutes, of the future. Innovation rather than ICANN.

 

Five Takeaways

 

•       The Anthropic IPO Slip — and Why SpaceX Now Looks Small: Anthropic accidentally filed for its IPO this week — what the New York Times described as a slip. The terms of SpaceX’s unconventional $75 billion IPO were also revealed. Keith’s observation: SpaceX now looks small by comparison. He tried to buy SpaceX shares this week through his brokerage and expects to get none — the demand will be way bigger than the supply, and the price will go up from the offering. San Francisco real estate is already feeling the Cerebras effect: 800 employees are now millionaires. The three big IPOs — Anthropic, OpenAI, SpaceX — will compound that on a much larger scale.

 

•       Successful Capitalism, Unsuccessful Government: Keith’s framework for the week: AI is capitalism working. Resources are directed to money-making opportunities via the profit motive, which coincides with innovation and, at least in the short term, creates lots of jobs. That is successful capitalism. Alongside it: unsuccessful government. The Trump administration went from hands-off to requiring all AI models to be submitted for a 30-day assessment before launch — in the same week. No plan. No endgame. Everyone has an opinion. Nobody states what outcome they want.

 

•       Keith’s PhD: Why Capitalism Is Never Static: Andrew challenges Keith’s authority to pronounce on these matters. Keith reveals: he has a PhD from the University of Kent in Canterbury — on why capitalism is never static, and why new entrants always eclipse what went before. Andrew: that was the 1970s, Keith. Does a fifty-year-old PhD give you authority? Keith: it’s a useless criticism. You could say that to anyone about anything. The exchange is revealing: the argument is not about credentials but about frameworks. And Keith’s framework — capitalism as dynamic, government as static — has at least the virtue of consistency.

 

•       Credit to Bernie and Warren: At Least They’re Having the Conversation: Andrew expects Keith to trash Bernie Sanders (50% government ownership of AI companies) and Elizabeth Warren (high taxation of AI profits). Keith surprises him: at least they’re having the conversation. His criticism is not that they’re wrong to want wealth distribution but that their framing — tax, centralise, spend — is unattractive to most people and captured by the interests of the old economy: teachers’ unions, trade unions, legacy coalitions t

D-Day for AI: How to Create an End Game That Will Benefit Everyone

“He didn’t just say it, he meant it, he felt it — and the combination of the power guy, the ruthless power guy, and the profound idealist was fascinating, and also hard for him.” — Evan Thomas on Bobby Kennedy

 

Who was the greatest riddle in 20th century American political life? Judging from the ever-expanding library of Bobby biographies, Robert Francis Kennedy ranks very high on that list. Indeed, according to Evan Thomas [https://www.simonandschuster.com/authors/Evan-Thomas/1067235], one of RFK’s most acclaimed biographers, this third Kennedy son is, indeed, the most sphinx-like riddle in 20th century America.

 

In his classic 2000 biography, Robert Kennedy: His Life [https://www.simonandschuster.com/books/Robert-Kennedy/Evan-Thomas/9780743203296], Thomas unravels the good and the bad Bobby. But, rather than presenting parallel narratives, his portrait treats the Machiavellian and the idealist as the same riddle. Raised by his father to exercise raw power, RFK discovered that mid-century America wasn’t living up to its own ideals. The contradiction of the ruthless Kennedy machine politician and the profound idealist was what continues to make him so intriguing to Americans of every political stripe.

 

Bobby concurred with Churchill’s dictum that courage is the greatest virtue because, without it, you can’t have the other virtues. So he lived a life of ridiculous physical and moral courage — taking insane risks that would terrify ordinary mortals. And, of course, his most insanely courageous act was his last — running for President in 1968 knowing that he was likely to be assassinated. Where have you gone, Bobby Kennedy? A nation turns its lonely eyes to you.

 

Five Takeaways

 

•       The Central Paradox: Power Guy and Idealist in the Same Man: Bobby Kennedy was raised by his father to be the henchman of the Kennedy machine — doing the dirty stuff in Boston politics to keep Jack floating free and grand. He was pretty ruthless about it. At the same time, in mid-century America, he discovered that the country was not living up to its own constitution, and he wanted to make things right, and genuinely felt it. The combination of the machine politician and the profound idealist was what made him so endlessly fascinating. It also made him hard for himself: a man permanently at war with his own nature.

 

•       Courage: The Only Word That Mattered: No word was more important to Bobby Kennedy than courage. Churchill: it’s the greatest virtue, because without it you can’t have the others. Kennedy believed in physical courage, emotional courage, mental courage. He was a runty little kid at the wrong end of the dinner table — Jack and Joe and Kick at the golden end with the father, Bobby with the nuns and the mum. He got kicked out of prep school for cheating. He was not the athlete, not the golden one. Real courage comes from suffering. It took courage just to overcome being the loser. That was the source.

 

•       Making Up for Missing the War: Physical and Moral Courage: Bobby missed World War Two, basically. He got in at the very end and ended up scraping the deck of a destroyer in the Caribbean, far from combat. His brother Jack is a war hero on steroids — PT boat cut in half by a Japanese destroyer, rescues his men, written about in The New Yorker and Reader’s Digest. Joe volunteers for a secret dangerous mission to replicate Jack’s glory and dies. Pretty high bar of courage. Bobby spends the rest of his life making up for it — swimming the Colorado River, climbing Mount Kennedy in the Yukon, jumping overboard off the coast of Maine to save Jack’s jacket. Sometimes stunts. But increasingly, moral courage — which is the greater thing.

 

•       The Mob, Joe Kennedy, and the Beehive:

Good Bobby, Bad Bobby: Evan Thomas on the Greatest Riddle in 20th Century American Politics

“That kind of put soccer on my radar as a sport. I saw how deeply it meant to people, in a way I didn’t appreciate prior to that. And then I was in London when the World Cup began, and I saw the opening match — Argentina and Cameroon, with Cameroon winning in an upset. Just the whole spectacle of it gave me an appreciation for the game.” — Brian Bunk, on Ireland, Italia ’90, and the moment everything changed

 

Not long now. Only seven days until the World Cup begins. Just enough time to read Brian D. Bunk [https://theexperimentpublishing.com/catalogs/summer-2026/the-shortest-history-of-soccer/]’s new The Shortest History of Soccer: From Ancient Kicking Games to the World’s Most Popular Sport [https://theexperimentpublishing.com/catalogs/summer-2026/the-shortest-history-of-soccer/]. History isn’t Bunk with Brian. He looks a bit like Elton John, which is appropriate given that old Rocket Man was chairman of Watford and bankrolled the tiny English club to almost winning the league. Pop stars like Ed Sheeran (Ipswich) and Robert Plant (Wolves) love football, Bunk notes. Probably because it reminds them of where they came from.

 

Bunk’s thesis is that soccer’s global dominance is not accidental. Born in the industrial communities of nineteenth-century England, the game gave workers a new identity, new evidence of their collective power, proof they’ll never walk alone. That same logic explains why middle-aged men all over America religiously gather at their local bars to watch English teams with strange names like Ipswich Town and Wolverhampton Wanderers. Such is religion in our globalised post-industrial age.

 

“Some people think football is a matter of life and death. I don’t like that attitude. I can assure them it is much more serious than that,” the great Liverpool manager Bill Shankly quipped. That’s the shortest of short histories of football. What the working-class Shankly meant was that it gives us social meaning — which is, indeed, more historically significant than the life or death of a single individual. Or even God. Football saves our souls, Brian Bunk concurs with Bill Shankly. Enjoy the World Cup.

 

Five Takeaways

 

•       Soccer Was Born in Industrial Communities for a Reason: The game emerged in industrial Britain in the second half of the nineteenth century not by accident but because industrialisation had shattered traditional community life. Mass migration to cities, technological disruption, the loss of familiar rhythms — all created a need for new kinds of identity and belonging. Soccer filled that need. It gave factory workers a team to follow, a ground to gather at, a shared identity that transcended ethnic and class lines. Bunk’s argument: this community function is baked into the game itself, which is why it has replicated across every culture it has touched.

 

•       Why Americans Love the Premier League: Bunk identifies the 1990s as the pivotal decade for American soccer. The 1994 World Cup on home soil. The women’s World Cup. The formation of MLS. The arrival of the FIFA video game. The Premier League broadcasting deals with ESPN and Fox. All of these combined and snowballed. Add to that the NFL owners investing in English clubs, the celebrity ownership wave (Ryan Reynolds, Elton John), and the cultural footprint of shows like Ted Lasso and Welcome to Wrexham. The result: a generation of Americans for whom following the Premier League is a primary source of community.

 

•       Maradona: All the Contradictions of Football in One Man: Asked which historical match he would most want to attend, Bunk chooses Mexico City, June 1986: Argentina vs England. Not for the Hand of God goal — which was cheating — but for the second goal, the one where Maradona picked up the ball in his own half

Why Football Saves Our Souls: Brian Bunk on the Collective Beauty of the World’s Most Popular Game

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