The Price of Being Sure

ChatGPT Image Feb 4, 2026, 09_07_42 PM

We live in an age where certainty travels faster than facts, and where emotion is often treated as a substitute for evidence, not because people have suddenly become wicked or foolish, but because the modern attention economy quietly rewards whatever is simple, sharp, and loud; it is easy to forget that the world is rarely simple, almost never sharp, and only occasionally loud for reasons that matter. When unrest erupts … Read the rest

Adulthood Isn’t a Birthday

ChatGPT Image Jan 11, 2026, 12_33_14 PM

We like birthdays because they behave. They sit on the calendar like obedient little fences: before this day you are “a child,” after this day you are “an adult,” and the world can stop thinking too hard. Paperwork smiles. Parents exhale. Governments file you into a drawer. Even you can point to the number and say, “There. That’s the moment I became something different.” It is a comforting story. It … Read the rest

The Ugly Truth About the Radical Right

I don’t enjoy writing this kind of essay. It is the intellectual equivalent of cleaning a greasy kitchen: necessary, unpleasant, and guaranteed to offend the people who insist the smell is “authentic tradition.” But if we’re going to talk honestly about political extremes, you don’t get to treat one side as a dangerous cult and the other as a quirky hobby. Extremes are not philosophies. They are stress reactions with … Read the rest

The Comfort of “There Must Be a Reason”

ChatGPT Image Jan 6, 2026, 05_34_14 PM

There is a certain kind of sentence that arrives like a key already cut to fit every lock. You don’t have to think too hard; you just turn it and the door opens, and behind the door there is a warm room where the world makes sense. The sentence usually sounds like this: “If a people has been chased for centuries, there must be a reason.” Sometimes it comes with … Read the rest

When News Becomes a Team Sport

ChatGPT Image Jan 5, 2026, 05_20_53 PM

On a winter evening quite a few years ago, I sat in a rented room—one of those temporary places where the furniture is chosen to survive, not to comfort. The radiator clicked like an impatient metronome. Outside, a streetlamp made the wet pavement shine. I had no plan except to hear a familiar language. I turned on the television.

Within minutes I was watching two countries that occupied the same … Read the rest