China’s Fiscal Band-Aid Won’t Stop the Bleeding When Trump’s Tariff Sword Strikes

 

China's cautious stimulus is nothing but a financial fig leaf, barely hiding the inevitable collision course it faces with Trump's return.

It appears that China's long game strategy has been hit by a series of unfortunate events, and the "three Ds"—debt, deflation, and poor demography—seem to be converging at a treacherous crossroads. If that wasn't enough, America might be tossing Donald Trump back into the mix as a fourth threat. Like a cherry atop a melting sundae, Trump's threats of high tariffs on Chinese exports are now looming large over an already fragile economic landscape. So, while China’s financial leaders gathered on November 8th, investors eagerly awaited a decisive move that could serve as a lifejacket for a nation sinking slowly into economic stagnation. But what they got, in a sense, was a tiny bucket instead—one just big enough to bail out a little bit of water from a very large boat.

Lan Fo’an, the Chinese finance minister, offered something that seemed more like maintenance than a genuine fix: a debt restructuring plan involving trillions of yuan in new bonds. These new bonds would replace riskier, “hidden” debts largely held by local-government financing vehicles (LGFVs), shadowy infrastructure firms heavily reliant on state backing. The numbers involved are staggering—up to 10 trillion yuan ($1.37 trillion) in bonds over the next five years, aimed at refinancing an estimated 60 trillion yuan in debt that LGFVs had amassed by the end of 2022. According to Goldman Sachs, about one-fifth of this debt is considered risky, and if any of it collapses, it would trigger a domino effect of default.

But herein lies the rub. Replacing debt with more debt—albeit at presumably lower interest rates—does not fix an underlying economic ailment. It simply postpones it. China has, in the past, attempted to bring local government debt under control, but these efforts always seem to lose momentum as the country's leadership prioritizes growth over fiscal discipline. During President Xi Jinping's first term, Lou Jiwei, then finance minister, famously said, “Open the front door and close the back door.” It was a reference to allowing local governments to issue explicit bonds to replace hidden, off-balance-sheet debt. Yet the “back door” has remained stubbornly ajar, and now that China’s slowdown is leading to dwindling tax revenues and slumping property sales, that back door might just swing wide open again.

Just ask the grocer in Shaanxi province who was slapped with a fine of 66,000 yuan for selling 2.5kg of substandard celery. It’s a bizarre but telling anecdote—authorities have resorted to desperate measures, such as harassing businesses for back taxes and selling off public assets, just to plug holes in budgets. The cabinet’s plea to the most indebted provinces to "smash the pots and sell the iron" is like a poverty-stricken family auctioning off their silverware to pay the rent. It’s a desperate situation, and desperate measures simply aren't enough when faced with the risk of collapse.

Trump, meanwhile, isn’t waiting for the ink to dry on any nuanced diplomatic measures. If he returns to the White House, he's promised a second round of tariff hikes on Chinese imports—a more aggressive, "fiercer" trade war. History serves as a reminder of what such tariffs could do. In the 2018-2019 U.S.-China trade war, American tariffs on $250 billion worth of Chinese goods triggered a tit-for-tat series of duties, which led to disruptions across global supply chains. The economic bruises of that round still haven’t healed, and the thought of reopening those wounds must surely terrify China’s policymakers. But they’re not showing it—not just yet.

Perhaps they’re saving what remains of their fiscal ammunition. Perhaps Xi Jinping and his top brass believe that any real stimulus would be better deployed next year, closer to when the stakes with the U.S. become apparent. But in a broader sense, this calculated delay could end up being too little, too late. China’s economy is standing at the edge of a cliff, weighed down by not just the three Ds, but by the general sentiment of weariness among its people. The demographic bomb—years of falling birth rates and an aging population—is ticking. The government has toyed with ideas of handouts to poorer families, subsidies for childbirth, and even a version of the “cash for clunkers” program, encouraging people to trade in old appliances for new, greener ones. Still, these are band-aid solutions at best. None of these measures even hint at resolving the deeper structural issues plaguing the economy.

Economists argue that China’s deflation—a decline in general price levels—is a sign of an economy that has lost its vitality. Deflation is, in essence, the opposite of inflation, but unlike inflation, deflation is not a sign of healthy, consumer-driven demand. It’s the classic sign of a decelerating economy, where factories overproduce, businesses struggle to sell, and people are wary of spending. Recent data indicated that China’s consumer price index dropped by 0.1% in September 2024 compared to the previous year—a small but crucial signal that price cuts are happening not because of efficiency gains but because of lackluster demand.

Meanwhile, at the grassroots level, people are feeling the squeeze. Slumping wages and diminishing job prospects have led to a more cautious consumer, unwilling to spend money on anything beyond the essentials. China has a savings culture, yes, but there’s a fine line between prudent saving and national belt-tightening out of fear. The masses are not stupid; they know when it's time to cut corners. Fear, after all, breeds more fear, and cautious consumers ultimately spell a bleak future for domestic growth.

Then there’s Trump, waiting in the wings of American politics. If he secures another term, he could pull the rug right out from under China's plans. Let’s not forget, Trump once called himself a "tariff man." Should he again impose punitive tariffs on Chinese exports, it would shake investor confidence globally. Trump’s tariff threats during his first presidency set a confrontational tone with China, which ultimately led to higher costs for American consumers and losses for Chinese exporters. China’s leaders cannot afford to pretend otherwise. The next round of tariffs would most certainly target tech products and other high-value goods that China has used to bolster its economic ambitions.

Perhaps China’s strategy here is to bet on time. They might be hoping that the uncertainty of American elections can somehow be their saving grace. But that’s a risky gamble, one that makes an implicit assumption—that other global forces will somehow spare China. Unfortunately, wishful thinking isn’t exactly a sound economic policy. The leadership’s inability to take swift, concrete action is a glaring sign that they’re either unwilling or unable to make the tough choices necessary to rescue the economy from its downward spiral.

Maybe what China needs isn’t just a fiscal stimulus but an entirely new strategy—one that takes into account its ailing demographics, its indebted local authorities, and the external threats it faces. But at this point, the long-held cautious approach has its limits. They say “time and tide wait for no man,” and in China's case, it seems neither debt, deflation, demography, nor Donald Trump are willing to wait, either.

After all, as China tiptoes around its woes, Trump seems more like the elephant about to stomp into the room. If China's stimulus is a raindrop in a drought, then Trump, quite possibly, is the incoming sandstorm. Better bring umbrellas—or maybe just better economic policies—because a storm’s a storm, no matter how you look at it.

From Knees to Nowhere: The Futility of Prayer in Nigeria’s Fight Against Poverty and Insecurity

Nigeria's leaders are fooling themselves and the masses—no amount of kneeling in prayer will magically fix a broken power grid, put food on the table, or stop a terrorist's bullet. It’s time for Nigeria to trade its prayer mats for blueprints and action plans.

Prayer is a safety net; action is a survival strategy. Once again, Nigeria finds itself at a crossroad, with its political elite reaching out to higher powers for help. A week ago, a national summit of prayers led by First Lady Oluremi Tinubu and National Security Adviser Nuhu Ribadu saw the country’s religious divide uniting in a common, if misguided, cause: national salvation through divine intervention. The National Prayer Forum brought Christian and Muslim leaders together to "rescue" Nigeria from the grip of economic hardships and insecurity. But history has shown that when the house is burning, it's water you need, not words muttered to the sky.

It is baffling that as Nigeria continues to plunge deeper into economic despair, its leaders think it sensible to conduct a prayerful escapade instead of addressing the root causes of the nation's misery. Ribadu, a man appointed to tackle insecurity with intelligence and decisive action, instead chose to lead people in recitations, as if prayers alone could repel the AK-47s of bandits or shield villages from raiding terrorists. It brings to mind a proverb: "He who thinks prayers can substitute for effort will end up praying over an empty pot."

Consider the reality of the Nigerian situation in 2024: energy prices have soared uncontrollably, inflation eats through people's savings faster than a raging wildfire, and the naira—once considered a symbol of national pride—has plummeted to disastrous lows, leaving citizens clutching worthless banknotes. Hunger walks the streets of Nigeria with a brazenness unseen before, hand in hand with poverty and rising insecurity. It is not just the day-to-day struggles that make this country a grim place for its citizens, but the stark contrast between Nigeria’s abundant natural wealth and the desperation of its people. And instead of policies and governance to resolve these issues, Nigerians are handed prayers. As if God needs reminding of Nigeria’s suffering.

Take a look at the First Lady, Oluremi Tinubu, who, after initially championing these national prayers, distanced herself when the absurdity of it all became apparent. She, too, must have come to the realization that Nigeria's problems aren't supernatural—they are man-made and must be solved by the people who made them. The issues plaguing Nigeria aren’t some divine curse waiting to be lifted; they are the results of years of policy neglect, incompetence, and corruption that no amount of praying hands can fix.

Let us look at the facts: Since the 1980s, Nigerians have been gathering for what is euphemistically termed "Prayer for Nigeria in Distress." Yet from then until now, the country has spiraled further into hardship. The distress has become a chronic ailment, growing and expanding. Back in the 1990s, the problems were clear—unemployment and a declining infrastructure—but today, the challenges have taken on catastrophic proportions. Electricity, which once flickered weakly through Nigerian homes, is now a ghostly memory for millions. Blackouts persist because the power grid is nothing more than a jumble of failed ambitions and corruption. But instead of connecting the dots, Nigerian leaders would rather connect rosary beads or count prayer verses.

It is not prayers that transformed Saudi Arabia from a desert kingdom into a glittering land of opportunity, nor is it prayers that turned Israel into a hub of technological innovation and agricultural prowess. It was vision, education, strategic investments, and above all, action. When Saudi Arabia discovered oil, its rulers built roads, skyscrapers, and the best social services money could buy. Israel, surrounded by hostility, invested in technology and self-sufficiency. Iran, even under a strict Islamic regime, managed to build and export drones to Russia—not because they prayed but because they invested in research and education. Nigeria, on the other hand, has invested too heavily in faith at the expense of action, leaving the country morally and economically bankrupt.

It bears repeating that positive change comes not from passivity but from action. Prayers can be comforting, yes—they provide hope, solace, and community—but as the basis for governance? It's a recipe for failure. Even in deeply religious societies, there is an understanding that divine intervention does not substitute for human responsibility. The government has failed to prioritize investments in infrastructure, failed to harness the nation’s vast human resources, and has consistently failed to implement even the most rudimentary policies that could foster growth.

Religious leaders, too, bear responsibility for their complicity. Instead of challenging the state, calling out the hypocrisy of leadership, and demanding systemic reforms, they lead prayer gatherings, often funded by the very government whose incompetence has brought the nation to its knees. While other countries make strides in technology and public health, Nigeria's political elite funds pilgrimages for clerics while hospitals lack syringes and schools operate without textbooks.

The Nigerian National Security Adviser (NSA), Nuhu Ribadu, should be less concerned with the choreography of prayer gatherings and more focused on how to secure the nation. Imagine, in a time when kidnappers terrorize communities and insurgents still control parts of the north, the NSA decides his priority should be a prayer jamboree. Does he really believe that prayers are the armor Nigeria needs against kidnappers’ bullets or that prayer sessions will outmaneuver terrorists lurking in the shadows? It’s absurd. He may as well send prayer warriors to the frontlines to hold off insurgents with Psalms and Koranic verses. It’s a dark comedy, with Nigeria as the unfortunate punchline.

Even worse is the hypocrisy that often accompanies these prayer movements. The same leaders urging Nigerians to gather in mosques and churches send their children to study abroad, to live in environments secured by good governance and functioning economies. They know that the difference between chaos and order lies not in how fervently one prays but in how well systems are planned, financed, and implemented.

The Nigerian government must come to terms with its responsibilities. Rather than outsourcing the future to the divine, they need to focus on practical solutions—repairing the broken power sector, addressing the root causes of insecurity, and putting into place competent leaders, not prayer warriors. Concrete actions such as incentivizing local agriculture, investing in education and technology, and curbing corruption will do more to change Nigeria’s trajectory than any number of prayers.

The truth is, prayers won't fill the potholes in Nigeria’s roads, prayers won't stabilize the naira, and they certainly won't bring back the lives lost to insecurity. Nigerians have been praying since the 1980s, and if prayers were the answer, the nation should have been transformed into an economic paradise by now. Instead, while people’s knees have grown calloused from decades of kneeling, the country’s potential continues to slip away like sand through a clenched fist.

What Nigeria needs is action—visionary, determined action. Positive action led countries like Israel and Saudi Arabia from deserts to developed nations, and it is action, not chants or solemn gatherings, that will rescue Nigeria from the desert of despair. So, while it’s good to pray, it’s far better to get up afterward and do what needs to be done. After all, as they say, God helps those who help themselves. And if God were Nigerian, He might just be waiting for the government to do their part before He considers doing His.

 

Trump’s Final Test: Fix Putin Now or Watch the Empire of Russia Rise

 

The time for polite phone calls is over; Trump's reputation is on the line—either crush Putin’s invasion or empower Zelensky to lead a charge that makes the Kremlin tremble. In plain English, Putin respects one thing—force. Anything less is weakness, and if Trump doesn't act now, he will find himself the weakling everyone mocks on the global stage.

The Ides of March come, yet Trump, beware the Russian bear. The echoes of that ancient warning to Julius Caesar should now ring loud and clear in the ears of President-elect Donald Trump as he prepares to step back into the international arena. The man whose voice echoed through stadiums with promises to end the war in Ukraine seems to have been immediately put to the test—and found wanting. Just days after Trump personally urged Vladimir Putin to step back, Russia has answered him not with words, but with action: more tanks, more troops, and a sneer of defiance that any soothsayer would recognize as an ominous sign.

A few days ago, President Trump called Vladimir Putin, speaking with the bravado of a man who built his campaign on “the art of the deal” and a personal promise to put an end to the Russian invasion. According to reports, Trump reminded Putin of America’s military presence in Europe, a thinly veiled warning meant to dissuade further aggression. Yet in classic Putin fashion, the response from Moscow was neither contrite nor compliant. Instead, Putin seems to have doubled down, sending nearly 50,000 Russian troops into Kursk, an occupied region near the Ukrainian border. As if that weren’t enough, over 10,000 North Korean soldiers have joined the fight, confirming that Putin isn’t just shrugging off Trump—he’s giving him the proverbial middle finger.

The battle lines in Ukraine are being etched deeper with each passing day, and the warning signs are clear for anyone willing to look. This is not a game of chess where two leaders can trade pieces until a truce is arranged; it's a bloody battlefield where Putin is staking his ground, showing that any talk of negotiation or retreat is merely an illusion. Ukrainian forces, led by the determined President Zelensky, are doing what they can to hold the line. The scene in Kursk is one of desperate resilience, with soldiers fighting against the odds to prevent a massive assault from storming through their positions. As Ukraine’s military commander Oleksandr Syrskyi put it, these soldiers are the only reason the “best Russian assault units” haven’t overrun the area entirely. The bravery of Ukrainian soldiers might be enough to stop the advance temporarily, but it is not a solution that will bring this war to a close.

It’s here that Trump must understand the message Putin is sending: negotiations will not be the answer. History has shown that appeasing aggressors rarely ends well. The echoes of the Munich Agreement still haunt Europe, a chilling reminder that attempts to negotiate with authoritarian leaders can quickly devolve into catastrophic failures. Trump’s advisers have hinted at some sort of “peace talk” that could involve Ukraine ceding occupied territories to Russia—a move reminiscent of Neville Chamberlain’s ill-fated promise of “peace for our time.” Trump may think himself a master negotiator, but Putin is not the kind of adversary to whom you offer a piece of the pie. Give him an inch, and he will take a mile.

Yet, perhaps most worrisome is Trump’s seemingly wavering commitment to NATO. His previous threats to pull out of NATO and his statements about letting Russia “do whatever the hell they want” to NATO allies if bills aren’t paid should not be seen as mere rhetoric. This kind of attitude undermines the very foundation of Western security. Even Trump’s former national security adviser, John Bolton, hinted at how real the danger was when Trump nearly withdrew from NATO before. If Trump underestimates NATO’s importance, he may find himself—and the United States—standing alone in a conflict that demands a united front.

For President-elect Trump, the solution is glaringly simple, albeit politically risky: he must either deal with Putin decisively or empower President Zelensky to do it. The time for empty threats is over. Putin has already called Trump’s bluff, and unless the new president wants his foreign policy to be seen as nothing more than hollow posturing, he needs to act now. Empowering Ukraine with the weapons and support they need to fully drive back Russian forces isn’t just an option—it’s the only viable course of action. If Putin’s forces aren’t pushed back now, if the invasion isn’t repelled with definitive military strength, there will be no “later” solution to the problem.

The Kremlin respects one thing, and one thing only: power. Diplomacy that comes without a credible show of strength will be ignored or, worse, mocked. Already, the sight of North Korean troops on the Ukrainian battlefield shows just how far Putin is willing to go to flaunt his disregard for Trump’s warnings. Putin isn’t merely uninterested in negotiating—he’s making a spectacle out of his willingness to escalate, to do whatever it takes to achieve his aims. Trump must take a page from history and recall that, just as Churchill once warned against appeasement, the time has come to either meet aggression with strength or risk being trampled by it.

What would it take for Trump to realize that Russia will not be appeased by half-measures? The cost of inaction now is far greater than the risk of standing up to Putin. If Trump truly wants to fulfill his campaign promise of ending the war, it cannot come through compromises or yielding pieces of Ukraine to the Russian state. This is not a real estate deal where both parties leave the table with something in hand. For Ukraine, losing territory means losing sovereignty, and for Putin, gaining ground means gaining power and influence. History has shown that when dictators see weakness, they pounce. The same happened with Hitler; the same will happen with Putin if the world does not act now.

And what about President Zelensky? He has proven, time and again, that he is ready to fight for his country. His leadership has been nothing short of inspirational, and the resilience of the Ukrainian people is a testament to their refusal to bow to tyranny. But they need help. If Trump is serious about ending the war, he must empower Zelensky with the resources needed to do just that. More weapons, more support, and more pressure on Russia until Putin understands that there is no path forward for him in Ukraine.

For Trump, this is not just about making good on a campaign promise; it's about setting the tone for his presidency. If Putin is allowed to defy him without consequence, it will set a dangerous precedent for the rest of Trump’s term. Other adversaries, watching closely, will take note of America’s resolve—or lack thereof. The stakes could not be higher, and the consequences of failure could reverberate far beyond Ukraine’s borders.

So, what will it be, President Trump? Will you heed the warnings of history, take decisive action, and stand firm against the aggression that threatens not only Ukraine but the stability of the entire region? Or will you be remembered as the president who, like Caesar, ignored the soothsayer’s warning and walked blindly into disaster? The choice is yours, but time is running out.

Beware the Ides of March, Mr. President. After all, Putin isn’t just playing chess—he’s playing Russian roulette, and every chamber has your name on it.

Why TikTok Feminists Will Be Left Behind While Smart Women Move On

 

The reality is harsh, but true: these young women boycotting men because of their political choices are simply too immature to understand that withholding love isn't a weapon—it's a self-imposed exile, ensuring they will end up alone while mature women move on with all the good men.

There’s an old saying that when you throw a stone into a pack of dogs, the one that yelps is the one hit. That pretty much sums up what we’re seeing from some angry young women reacting to Trump’s latest victory. They’ve taken to TikTok and other social media outlets, screaming for an emulation of South Korea’s feminist 4B movement—a movement that rejects sex, marriage, dating, and childbirth, all in the name of retribution against men who dared to vote for Donald Trump. If it sounds extreme, that’s because it is. And more to the point, it also reveals a shocking level of immaturity and a complete misunderstanding of what democracy is supposed to be about.

The idea that young women are calling for a ban on heterosexual dating, presumably to punish men for how they cast their votes, should give us all pause. Let’s remember, democracy is built on the foundation of differing opinions—people vote for who they believe will serve their interests best, and everyone has the right to express their choice. If men voted for Trump, they were within their rights to do so. Screaming and calling for extreme measures like the 4B movement is nothing short of emotional blackmail. It's akin to a toddler kicking and crying because they didn't get the toy they wanted. The big difference here is that these young women are not toddlers; they are adults who should know better.

One video that has garnered over 1.3 million likes begins with, "The good news is that men hate us, so there’s no point in catering to them." Another adds, “No more kitty cat for men,” implying that heterosexual relationships should be withheld as a form of punishment. Are we to take seriously a political movement built on what amounts to withholding sex as a bargaining chip? Even Freud would roll his eyes.

Social media has always amplified outrage, but what we’re seeing now with these TikTok videos is a culture where backlash becomes a kind of sport—where taking an extreme stand is more about getting likes and going viral than it is about actually making a difference. Remember the Women’s March of 2017, when millions gathered to protest Trump’s presidency, advocating for actual policy changes and promoting women’s rights? There was organization, a clear message, and real political action. Fast forward to today, and we have TikTok’s equivalent of “No more kitty cat”—the decline in substance is palpable.

The rise of the 4B movement in South Korea has specific cultural roots. It's rooted in decades of systemic gender inequality and a lack of justice for victims of violence. It’s a response to deeply entrenched societal issues, and whether or not one agrees with the approach, at least there is a cultural context to justify its existence. But here, in the United States, a similar movement born out of election results comes across as shallow and reactionary. What these angry young women fail to understand is that actions have consequences. By shutting themselves off from relationships in retaliation, they are only punishing themselves. And by the time they realize that “No more kitty cat” means fewer opportunities for fulfilling relationships, they might discover that men have moved on to partners who are more mature, realistic, and frankly, interested in meaningful connections.

Let’s face it—the entitlement mentality needs to go. The idea that the world owes you something because you didn’t get the election result you wanted is laughable. Life does not owe you a boyfriend, a fairytale ending, or anything else for that matter. If young men voted for Trump, they had reasons. Maybe they felt economically disenfranchised, maybe they bought into Trump's America-first rhetoric, or maybe they were just tired of what they see as cancel culture run amok. In any case, those are valid choices in a democratic system. Throwing a tantrum on TikTok about it doesn’t make you a revolutionary—it makes you someone who can't handle the fact that sometimes things don’t go your way.

Remember Aesop’s fable about the grapes that were out of reach? The fox couldn’t get them, so he declared that they were probably sour anyway. That’s exactly what we’re seeing here. Some young women couldn’t get the election outcome they wanted, so instead of accepting reality, they are declaring that men are not worth their time anyway. It’s a coping mechanism, a weak one, at that. And it distracts from the real work that needs to be done—educating oneself on the issues, becoming involved in political action, and making sure that the next time around, your voice is heard not through a TikTok soundbite, but at the ballot box.

We have to ask ourselves, where is all of this headed? If young women in America start boycotting men because of how they voted, are we headed toward a future where political ideology dictates who we can or cannot date? In a country where we pride ourselves on freedom, how free are we if we’re limiting our romantic lives based on voting records? Abraham Lincoln once said, “A house divided against itself cannot stand.” He was referring to the divide over slavery, an issue far graver than any we face today. And yet, here we are, willingly dividing our personal lives over election results. If anything, this behavior represents a failure to understand the importance of compromise and coexistence in a pluralistic society.

Perhaps it's time for these angry young women to take a page from Eleanor Roosevelt's book. She said, "No one can make you feel inferior without your consent." The women taking to TikTok seem to feel that the men who voted for Trump are making them inferior, and they’re reacting with anger and hostility. But the truth is, no man’s vote can diminish your worth—unless you let it. Instead of isolating themselves or encouraging each other to reject men altogether, perhaps they should focus on building themselves up, understanding opposing viewpoints, and engaging in constructive dialogue.

By all means, be angry if things don’t go your way—anger can be a catalyst for change. But use that anger wisely. Take it to the voting booth, the town hall, or the community meeting. Don't waste it on TikTok videos that contribute nothing to the real political discourse. The fight for equality, justice, and representation is too important to be reduced to a petulant social media trend. And the next time these young women find themselves wanting to lash out at men who voted differently, they should remember the saying: “When you point one finger, there are three more pointing back at you.”

It might not be too late to grow up—but for many of these young women, by the time they realize what they’ve lost, the men will be long gone, happily in the arms of women who were willing to engage with the world as it is, not as they wish it to be. Life has a funny way of moving on, and if these TikTok feminists aren’t careful, it’s going to move on without them. Maturity isn't about winning every battle—it's about understanding which battles are worth fighting and how to fight them in a way that brings real, lasting change. And this, sadly, ain't it.

 

No More Mr. Nice Guy: Trump’s Moment to Show Putin Who Really Runs the World

 

Backing Zelensky to deliver a crushing defeat to Putin would position Trump as the man who succeeded where Biden only failed—turning a stand-off into a triumph for Western democracy.

It is a fine line between a handshake and a chokehold, and President-elect Donald Trump, in dealing with Russian President Vladimir Putin, would do well to keep both hands firmly behind his back. The last thing the world needs right now is a peace deal crafted by a man infamous for stirring more chaos than calm—a spectacle as dangerous as allowing a fox to guard the henhouse. In 2024, with Vladimir Putin’s ambitions still lurking ominously close to NATO’s doorsteps, any inclination toward appeasement would not just be misguided but perilously naive.

One of the reasons why many Republicans, myself included, chose to throw our support behind Trump for another term was his notorious ability to cut through the noise. Trump, despite all his bluster, often follows through on his promises, a rare quality in politics. He doesn't pretend to speak the language of diplomacy that cloaks weakness under the guise of dialogue. But when it comes to Putin, the stakes are different—dangerous, even. Russia is actively committing war crimes in Ukraine, as recently reported by both Human Rights Watch and several investigative outlets, and no amount of sweet-talking will suffice. The atrocities that Putin's forces are committing—most notably, the Wagner Group's involvement in unspeakable acts across Africa and Eastern Europe—are war crimes by any standard and demand justice, not peace talks.

In Ukraine, Putin's ambitions are no secret. Since February 2022, when Russian troops first crossed the border, his designs on Ukraine have been clear: to seize and keep the territories that bring him closer to restoring what he sees as Russia’s rightful empire. Yet, Putin’s aggression isn’t just about Ukraine; it’s about challenging the Western alliance and testing the resilience of NATO. If Trump attempts to broker a peace deal—a move that might initially be seen as pragmatic—he risks sacrificing the very core of the West’s values and paving the way for further Russian expansionism. It would be akin to buying a wolf a leash and hoping it suddenly loses its teeth.

It bears repeating: Vladimir Putin is not merely a head of state; he’s an unrepentant thug. His handling of opposition figures—poisonings, mysterious deaths, detentions—is a macabre dance of state-sponsored murder and repression. And if his recent actions in Ukraine weren't enough to demonstrate his cold ambition, his support of Wagner Group mercenaries running riot across African nations should erase all doubts. The Wagner Group’s involvement in places like Sudan and the Central African Republic is as insidious as it is telling. Putin’s use of a proxy militia to expand influence is a tool of geopolitical thuggery—one that relies on fear, violence, and economic intimidation.

Trump’s chance to make a mark here is straightforward: do not play Putin’s game. Empower President Zelensky, and you empower the entire Western world to maintain its stance against authoritarianism. There’s an old saying: "Give a man a fish, and you feed him for a day. Teach a man to fish, and you feed him for a lifetime." In this context, it means equipping Ukraine not just to survive today but to stand as a bastion against Russian aggression long-term. No shortcuts, no half-measures. To let Zelensky and the Ukrainian people wrest their own victory out of Putin’s grasp would not only embarrass the Kremlin but also send a stern message to other rogue actors on the global stage.

Zelensky, a man who once played a president on television before taking on the role in real life, has demonstrated grit and bravery that should be rewarded. His defiance against a much larger adversary is David and Goliath, but without divine intervention. He needs support—not someone stepping in and drawing a line through his battlefield in pursuit of illusory peace. A forced armistice would cut Ukraine’s legs out from under it, while a strong show of support might just allow them to put Russia back in its place.

Make no mistake—letting Putin get even a sniff of victory would be disastrous for the United States and for Trump’s legacy. The president-elect can be unpredictable, but even his most outlandish critics would acknowledge that he cares about winning and optics. The optics of empowering a nation like Ukraine, which is defending its sovereignty against an overbearing autocrat, could play very well on the global stage, particularly among the Western allies. The Republican base has a tendency to favor strength, and what could be stronger than making Putin retreat with his ambitions in tatters? Allowing Zelensky to humiliate Putin isn't just a good geopolitical move; it's a winning ticket for Trump to prove that he’s capable of putting America—and, by extension, the ideals of liberty—first.

Furthermore, there’s a long game at play. A humbled Putin, weakened by a failed conquest of Ukraine, will find himself increasingly isolated. Russia’s economic outlook has already taken a nosedive due to sanctions, and internal unrest continues to bubble beneath the surface. History tells us that wounded dictators are dangerous, but they’re also vulnerable. Letting Ukraine deal a heavy blow would force Putin to retreat, lick his wounds, and, ideally, deter similar acts of aggression in the future. The West has spent years dealing with Russia as if it were a bear to be tranquilized and tamed, but it might be time to realize that showing strength is the only language that authoritarian leaders truly understand.

Trump, known for his desire to stand up to foreign aggressors when America’s interests are involved, should recognize that Ukraine's struggle is intrinsically tied to American interests. If Putin is allowed to maintain control over Ukrainian territories, it will inevitably embolden him to test other borders. NATO’s collective security—and America’s credibility—hinges on a clear and resolute stance against land grabs and breaches of international norms.

Of course, none of this is to suggest that Trump should engage in reckless provocation. No one is advocating for a direct military confrontation between NATO and Russia—everyone understands the risks inherent in such a scenario. But a clear policy of strength, bolstered by real support to Ukraine, will signal that the West is not about to let one autocrat’s ambitions go unchallenged. Trump must seize this opportunity to empower President Zelensky, not because it's politically convenient, but because it’s the right and strategic thing to do.

If Putin were to be handed a humiliating defeat, the ripples would be felt far beyond Eastern Europe. It would send a resounding message to countries like China and North Korea that expansionist policies are no longer tolerated, and the West will not sit idly by while international norms are flouted. It would bolster Trump’s position as a leader who can wield real influence over global affairs—a position that would serve him well, especially when dealing with similar authoritarian threats.

Ultimately, Trump must avoid the siren call of a premature peace deal that might look good in a headline but would undermine the resilience and spirit of an ally fighting for its survival. The old saying, “The road to hell is paved with good intentions,” seems particularly apt here. Peace deals are usually the end goal, but not when they’re a mere mask for capitulation to evil. By backing Zelensky fully, Trump can demonstrate that his “America First” ideology means standing with those who share America’s values—freedom, resilience, and the unyielding right to self-determination.

So, as Trump prepares to take office, there should be no illusions: the path to greatness is not by appeasing tyrants but by standing up to them. Putin is a man who deserves to be humbled, not heralded. Perhaps it’s time Trump helps Zelensky give the Russian leader what he’s long deserved—a much-needed taste of failure. And who knows, perhaps a little humiliation might do wonders for Putin’s next propaganda routine—assuming anyone’s still listening.

Woke and Broke: How Cultural Elitism Doomed the Democrats at the Ballot Box

 

The Democrats were essentially preaching to the choir while ignoring the congregation: their obsession with identity politics created an echo chamber that resonated only with coastal elites, leaving middle America feeling unheard and abandoned—and this ultimately cost them the presidency.

The donkey might have just kicked itself into a corner it can’t escape. The Democrats have found themselves grappling with a rather glaring conundrum — they are simply out of sync with the cultural pulse of the majority of Americans. This was never more obvious than when Kamala Harris was thoroughly trounced by Donald Trump in the recent 2024 presidential election. In this seismic political face-off, Harris’s defeat was more than a clash of candidates; it was a manifestation of a deeper cultural disconnection that the Democratic Party has stubbornly refused to acknowledge.

The Democrats, with their increasingly progressive ideals, have veered so far left that they've alienated a significant portion of the American electorate. Sure, their policies might resonate with urban voters on the coasts, but in middle America—from the rural stretches of the Midwest to the suburban enclaves of the South—it’s a different story altogether. The heartland isn’t swayed by academic debates about gender pronouns or dragged-out discussions about dismantling law enforcement. Instead, the average voter is thinking about jobs, affordability, and yes, even about keeping their traditional values intact. It’s not that Americans have turned away from progress; it’s that they are resistant to progress forced down their throats.

Consider the controversial criminal justice reforms that the Democrats have pushed, like the 2021 moves to defund the police, which they later tried to walk back once they saw the political damage. Crime rates skyrocketed in cities like Chicago and San Francisco, two stalwart Democratic strongholds, and it wasn’t long before people connected the dots between lax law enforcement policies and the increasing chaos on the streets. For the average citizen trying to raise a family, the abstract idea of police reform pales in comparison to the very real concern of safety. These concerns were heightened by rising crime statistics, as 2022 saw violent crime increase by over 5% in major metropolitan areas—numbers that the Republicans were quick to capitalize on during the 2024 campaign.

Trump’s victory over Harris was proof that culture wars still matter more to voters than the Democrats expected. Harris, for all her qualifications, was seen as embodying the progressive ethos of the Democratic elite—one that didn’t quite mesh with the reality faced by many voters. Her emphasis on climate change, gender equity, and identity politics fell flat in towns where people were more concerned about paying their electric bills or finding a decent-paying job after their local factory had closed down. The Democrats’ cultural priorities seem out of touch with the bread-and-butter issues that still define everyday life for most Americans. As the proverb goes, "If you want to know what water is, don’t ask the fish." Perhaps the Democrats need to step outside of their own echo chambers to understand what ordinary Americans are truly concerned about.

The loss has exposed just how much the Democrats have leaned on identity and cultural rhetoric to the detriment of understanding the needs of a broad swath of the American populace. The numbers tell the story: in states like Wisconsin, Michigan, and Pennsylvania, which have historically been swing states, Trump secured decisive victories, flipping counties that Harris had hoped to turn blue. It wasn’t just a repudiation of a candidate, but of an entire worldview that seemed imposed rather than inclusive. The Democrats often like to cast themselves as the "big tent" party, welcoming everyone, but increasingly, many Americans feel that the party’s tent is propped up by the poles of political correctness, cancel culture, and elitism—all things that don't sit well with the majority.

And it’s not only about crime or cultural issues. Economically, the Democrats are also struggling to stay relevant to the everyday American. Harris touted her plan to transition the country to clean energy, a noble goal, but one that alienated voters in oil-rich states like Texas and even battleground states like Ohio. The voters heard “green energy,” but what they saw were potential job losses and increased energy costs. It’s the same story that cost Clinton the Rust Belt in 2016 — a perceived disregard for the livelihoods that many Americans have known for generations. When Biden’s administration imposed further regulations on oil and gas drilling in 2023, it might have gained applause from environmentalists, but it also lost critical support from voters whose paychecks depended on those industries. Trump didn’t need to do much more than point out that the Democrats were jeopardizing American jobs to appease European-style environmentalists.

Let’s not forget the elephant—or rather, the donkey—in the room: the cultural elitism. For the average American, the Democratic Party increasingly represents the Hollywood celebrities, Silicon Valley tech giants, and Ivy League professors who seem to preach to them about how they should live their lives. It’s hard to convince a single mom working two jobs in Oklahoma that she should embrace electric vehicles when her priority is figuring out how to make rent. The Democrats are masters at painting lofty pictures of a utopian future, but the voters want concrete solutions for today. There is a sense that Democrats live in an America of their own making—an America where everyone has access to advanced technology, gender studies degrees are in demand, and the greatest issue of the day is which statue should be removed from a park. Meanwhile, for a great many Americans, these debates are not only unrelatable but downright alienating.

Then there is the question of patriotism. Trump’s 2024 campaign unapologetically embraced traditional American symbols—the flag, the anthem, the idea of “America First.” The Democrats, on the other hand, appeared uncomfortable with even the idea of national pride, afraid that it might offend one group or another. But for many Americans, patriotism isn’t a relic of the past; it’s a vital part of their identity. Harris’s avoidance of overt patriotic rhetoric during her campaign rallies may have seemed inclusive, but it ended up coming across as un-American to those who take pride in their national symbols. Voters want to feel good about their country, not be lectured on its historical shortcomings without celebrating its progress. As the saying goes, "Don't throw the baby out with the bathwater." The Democrats, in their zeal to address historical wrongs, often come off as dismissive of the very idea of American greatness.

The 2024 election results were less of a political contest and more of a cultural verdict. The Democrats face a crisis of identity: do they continue pushing an agenda that caters to progressive urban voters, or do they recalibrate to reflect the values of the broader electorate? One thing is clear: the Democrats have lost their way culturally, and it has already cost them dearly. If they don’t change course soon, they risk becoming a party that is perpetually out of power, kept afloat only by the applause of those who are out of step with the rest of the country.

Perhaps it's time the Democrats realized that while the donkey might be a symbol of stubbornness, a little bit of flexibility could go a long way. After all, if you’re trying to lead a parade, it helps to make sure you’re actually facing the right direction—otherwise, all you’re left with is a lonely dance to the beat of your own drum, while the crowd follows someone else entirely.

 

Goodbye Green, Hello Greenbacks: How Trump's Deregulation Means Wealth for America

 

With Trump's victory, it is not just about making America great again—it is about making America's corporations free again. No more FTC tyranny, just unchained profit and jobs for the people.

Looks like the cat is out of the bag, and that cat has orange fur. With Donald Trump clinching victory in the 2024 presidential election, the corridors of corporate America are echoing with excitement and perhaps a collective sigh of relief. The big, bad watchdogs—the Federal Trade Commission (FTC) and the Department of Justice (DOJ)—can officially be declawed. And for those oil magnates, it's time to pull out that old Sarah Palin chant: "Drill, baby, drill." Yes, as of November 6, when Trump was declared the winner, the fear is over.

For corporations, especially in the energy sector, Trump’s return signals a second wind—a no-holds-barred push for expansion and profit. Under the Biden administration, regulations had tightened their noose on companies, most famously marked by Lina Khan's aggressive FTC pursuit of monopolistic behavior and regulatory intervention in mergers. Microsoft, Amazon, Google—all household names had tasted the bitterness of a strict regulatory regime. Well, it looks like those days are numbered. Khan, often regarded as the next Ruth Bader Ginsburg of antitrust laws, had made headlines with her crusade against Big Tech, aiming to rewrite the rules to suit the 21st century's digital monopolies. But now, her clout is bound to decline, with the antitrust emphasis shifting to a more hands-off approach that puts big corporations in the driver's seat.

Trump's administration has always had a cozy relationship with oil. In 2017, during his first term, the U.S. saw the lifting of long-standing federal restrictions on offshore drilling, including in the Arctic and the Gulf of Mexico. He slashed Obama-era emissions regulations, thereby giving oil companies a boost they hadn’t seen in years. Fast forward to 2024, and it’s déjà vu for the oil giants. With the return of their biggest cheerleader, they can dust off the plans for new rigs, new refineries, and new projects that had been stalled by what they viewed as unnecessary bureaucracy.

The average American may not be shedding tears for the FTC’s shrinking influence, either. No one likes high gas prices, especially when they're commuting daily to make ends meet. Trump's promise is simple—drill more, pay less. More drilling means more supply, which means the good old supply-demand principle comes into play. As oil prices drop, the effects will trickle down (pun intended) to lower transportation costs, cheaper groceries, affordable household items—the whole shebang. It’s a classic "help the corporations, and you help the voters" argument, and it might just work, at least in the short term.

The American tax payer may be feeling a small thrill of optimism. After all, just last summer, gas prices soared over $5 a gallon nationwide, prompting widespread frustration and protests. In Trump's rhetoric, all of that could be a thing of the past. He’s the Santa Claus in November, and instead of leaving coal, he’s leaving a promise of cheaper fossil fuels that could make holiday shopping a little less painful. Biden’s Inflation Reduction Act, heralded as a landmark piece of legislation aimed at tackling climate change and capping drug costs, now seems like a ghost of the past—a relic from an administration that tried to push climate goals at the expense of America's pocketbook.

But while corporate giants are popping champagne, critics are crying foul. The push for deregulation doesn’t just loosen the grip on businesses; it also loosens the protections in place for consumers, the environment, and workers. "Lower prices at what cost?" they ask. Rolling back emission standards and green energy initiatives might lead to short-term relief at the pump, but the long-term consequences are less promising. Hurricanes, wildfires, droughts—climate change isn’t taking a break just because Trump’s back. A 2023 report from the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration (NOAA) highlighted the severity of climate disruptions, noting that 2022 alone had witnessed 18 weather/climate disaster events in the U.S., each causing losses exceeding $1 billion. The worry is that deregulation will push America back to policies that favor corporate profit over environmental preservation.

Moreover, mergers and acquisitions are making a comeback. It’s almost a paradox—what's supposed to make markets competitive is now likely to create more conglomerates and less choice for consumers. Imagine fewer companies controlling more sectors—from pharmaceuticals to tech to energy. History has shown us where this can lead. Back in the 19th century, Standard Oil, founded by John D. Rockefeller, was able to monopolize the oil industry by absorbing or eliminating its competition, ultimately being broken up in 1911 by the U.S. Supreme Court under the Sherman Antitrust Act. That act was a reaction against excessive corporate power, and yet here we are in 2024, seemingly flirting with a repeat. The DOJ’s role as the gatekeeper of fair competition is becoming a mere shadow of itself.

And yet, there's an audience for this change. Many believe that the best way to ensure economic prosperity is to free corporations from the constraints of "big government." It’s the quintessential American tale: David doesn’t always have to fight Goliath—sometimes, David just wants cheaper gas. Taxpayer pockets have been pinched enough, they argue, and it’s time to stop worrying about what Big Oil does and start reaping the benefits at the register.

The most controversial part of Trump’s win might be the perception that he has successfully positioned himself as the champion of both the corporate titan and the common man. He’s promising billion-dollar oil corporations freedom from restrictions, while also promising the everyday voter a cheaper lifestyle. It's a tough balancing act, and time will tell whether it pays off or leads to disaster. Is America truly better off when corporations thrive without oversight? Or are we just setting ourselves up for another bailout when deregulated growth leads to unchecked excess? Trump’s victory gives us a chance to watch the answer unfold.

For now, corporations are certainly seeing green—both in terms of dollars and in terms of go-signals from Washington. They’re brushing off those ambitious M&A plans, imagining less red tape, and getting ready to flex their muscles without fear of the FTC or the DOJ lurking in the shadows. And for the oil industry? It’s all systems go, with pipelines, drilling permits, and fossil-fuel optimism making a comeback.

As for the voters, they’re hoping that the "art of the deal" works in their favor this time—lower prices for everyday items, more jobs, a stronger economy. They want the good life that was promised without the bureaucratic hassle that usually comes with it. They want their cake, and Trump’s victory suggests they might get it.

Only in America could an election promise both corporate indulgence and consumer satisfaction under the same banner. So, grab your popcorn. With Trump back in the Oval Office, it's going to be a heck of a show. After all, "fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, and well, welcome to 2024."

 

Kamala Harris Couldn't Close the Deal: Her Defeat Is a Message from Voters

 

The Democrats misread the room entirely, believing Americans were interested in radical social policies when they were more worried about rising gas prices, mortgage rates, and a chaotic border situation.

Donald Trump's win over Kamala Harris might feel like déjà vu for many political observers. Remember that old saying, "The more things change, the more they stay the same"? The Democrats, riding high after the 2022 midterms, must have felt confident stepping into the 2024 elections. The abortion rights issue and the shocking overturning of Roe v. Wade gave them an edge, especially among suburban women and young voters. Yet somehow, here we are, talking about Trump’s return. The 2024 elections ended with many on the Democratic side left asking the same troubling questions: "What just happened?" and "Where did we go wrong?"

Despite the upbeat predictions of Harris’ campaign team, the electorate had other plans. The polls, which suggested Kamala Harris held a razor-thin lead in key battleground states like Wisconsin, Michigan, and Pennsylvania, ended up as mere fantasy, mere echoes of a world that the media hoped would come true. It turns out those indicators were far from reality, with Donald Trump decisively taking those very states. And why, you might ask, did the Democratic dream turn into this unexpected nightmare?

Some say the answer lies in one word: inflation. Let's be real – inflation under the Biden-Harris administration was the kind of monster hiding under America's collective bed. President Biden's ambitious spending packages, hailed by progressives as a much-needed social safety net expansion, quickly spiraled into an economic headache for middle-class voters. The American Rescue Plan, the Inflation Reduction Act, and even the infrastructure bill, while touted as victories by Democrats, didn't translate into the kind of successes that voters cared about when looking at their grocery bills or gas pumps. It didn't help that the Federal Reserve was hiking interest rates aggressively to keep inflation under control, resulting in soaring mortgage rates and a higher cost of living. Americans were feeling the pinch, and they knew who to blame – the party in power.

Another crucial misstep was Biden’s pivot to the far left. When Biden took office in 2021, he was seen as a centrist, a pragmatist who could bring both sides of the aisle together. However, his administration soon became caught in the tangled web of progressive policies. The Biden-Harris team seemed more eager to appease left-leaning Democrats than to cater to the broader, middle-ground America that voted them in. Biden’s constant alignment with the so-called “squad” of young progressives such as Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez and Ilhan Omar only alienated moderate Democrats and independents who were put off by their radical rhetoric.

The chaos at the southern border didn’t help matters either. There’s an old saying, “Good fences make good neighbors.” Well, it seemed the Biden-Harris administration did not believe in that sentiment, or in fences at all. The abrupt reversal of Trump-era immigration policies turned out to be an open invitation for chaos. When Biden rescinded the "Remain in Mexico" policy, border crossings surged to record levels. Meanwhile, Kamala Harris, who was appointed as the “border czar,” did little to inspire confidence. Her handling of the border crisis became fodder for Republicans, with footage of overcrowded facilities, overwhelmed Border Patrol agents, and a vice president who seemed too uncomfortable even to visit the epicenter. In short, Harris was perceived as weak and ineffective in managing a significant national concern.

Let’s also remember how the Democrats fumbled their leadership transition. Instead of presenting Harris as a candidate who was ready and capable to lead the country, it seemed more like she was being handed the reins simply because Biden was unwilling or unable to run. The “dethroning” of Joe Biden – who stepped aside for Harris after being seen as too old to continue – looked more like a desperate, backroom deal rather than a natural and enthusiastic endorsement. It was almost as if the Democratic Party itself had lost confidence in its own leadership, which is never a good look when you are trying to win over the electorate.

Then there was the energy crisis. President Biden's push for clean energy seemed noble in theory – who wouldn’t want a world with less pollution? However, in practice, the anti-energy policies turned out to be an albatross for everyday Americans. Canceling the Keystone XL pipeline, limiting new drilling permits, and setting unattainable emission goals made it seem like the Democrats were more interested in winning environmentalist brownie points than in helping working-class families. Gas prices spiked, and it didn't take a political strategist to see who would be blamed. Voters, frustrated by the rising cost of heating their homes and driving their cars, found comfort in Trump’s promise of “American energy independence.” After all, folks were used to paying $2 a gallon during Trump’s tenure.

Moreover, let’s talk about Harris herself. Kamala Harris’s inability to connect with voters was a glaring issue that simply never went away. She struggled to shake off her reputation as the "laughing vice president" – a nickname that stuck after numerous instances of her awkward, misplaced laughter during interviews. In a country as deeply polarized as the United States, authenticity goes a long way, and Harris seemed to lack the ability to come across as genuine or approachable. Whether it was her inability to handle tough questions during debates or her failure to communicate a coherent vision for America’s future, Harris’s shortcomings were glaring and, quite frankly, impossible to overlook.

Trump, on the other hand, played a classic hand. He leaned into the populist rhetoric that won him the presidency in 2016 – “Make America Great Again,” but now more like “Make America Prosperous Again.” He spoke to the forgotten Americans, those who felt overlooked by a Democratic Party too obsessed with identity politics and climate change. Trump didn’t need to win the majority of voters in places like Milwaukee, Detroit, or Phoenix; he just needed to persuade enough of them that Harris’s America was not the one they wanted. And it worked.

The midterms in 2022 had indeed seen Democrats doing well in the wake of the Roe v. Wade overturn, but they misread the mood of the country leading into 2024. In the grand scheme of things, kitchen-table issues – inflation, the economy, energy, and safety – trumped (pun intended) social issues. Voters are not fools; they see beyond lofty promises and performative politics. The Democrats overplayed their hand on issues like abortion, climate change, and immigration, underestimating just how much people care about their immediate material conditions.

In the end, the Democrats’ overreach left them vulnerable, and voters turned to the devil they knew. Donald Trump, for all his flaws, managed to connect with voters on the things that mattered most to them. The Biden-Harris administration might have been progressive darlings, but they failed to understand one basic principle: Americans don’t just vote on ideology, they vote on how their lives are being impacted in the present. If the cost of living skyrockets, the grocery bills swell, and the chaos at the border is too much to ignore, no amount of talk about social justice or environmental policies will win you an election.

It seems the Democrats forgot the age-old political adage: "It’s the economy, stupid." The electorate sent a clear message in 2024 – promises of change are good, but only when backed by practical solutions that don’t hurt the common person’s wallet. Kamala Harris may have been a symbol of progress for the Democratic Party, but in the eyes of many voters, she was simply an ill-prepared leader who represented the party’s failure to understand the everyday struggles of the American people.

And so, here we are again, with Donald Trump back in the Oval Office, and a Democratic Party that’s licking its wounds, wondering how they let victory slip away. Maybe next time they’ll remember that "those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it." Or maybe, just maybe, they’ll repeat the same mistakes and we'll be right back here in another four years, shaking our heads and writing the same commentary.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Red, Blue, and Overdue: Why No Winner Will Be Named Tonight

 

America will stay awake tonight, but the results sure won’t. We may sit glued to our screens, but we’ll only get frustration instead of results because the system is built to prolong our agony for the sake of 'accuracy' and 'integrity'—buzzwords that delay true decision-making.

With ballots cast and watch parties underway, the 2024 presidential election has arrived, and so has its drama. We can almost smell the popcorn at Mar-a-Lago, where former President Trump gathers his loyalists, while Vice President Harris holds down the watch party at Howard University. Both are dreaming of those magical 270 electoral votes tonight, but let's be real—Americans may want to tuck in with patience because that clear, decisive winner isn't likely to emerge tonight.

In a country built on swift gratification, waiting isn’t exactly what Americans do best, but Election Night has always been a night that tests nerves and tolerance. It’s a throwback to the chaos of 2020, where the term “election night” became a bit of a misnomer as it dragged on into an "election week." Once again, those same forces are at play in 2024, amplified by the razor-thin margins we’ve seen in polling data leading up to today. In a way, this is American democracy at its most suspenseful—almost as thrilling as a Netflix binge, only real lives and futures are at stake.

Both Harris and Trump, representing the most divergent visions of America, have made their final pitches. Trump, in the sunny glitz of Palm Beach, and Harris, in the heart of Washington D.C., now face the daunting reality: this isn’t just about making pitches, it’s about counting ballots. But as is often said, "The evening crowns the day," and this election evening may turn out to be less of a crowning and more of a cliffhanger.

The lessons of 2020 loom large. Mail-in voting, early voting, late-counting ballots—the process stretches the patience of even the most loyal political junkies. While Trump throws an ostentatious watch party among gold-plated chandeliers at Mar-a-Lago, he’s also hoping the very votes he once disparaged will deliver him back to power. Remember how he famously called mail-in ballots “a scam” just a few years ago? Ironically, those ballots—those trickling, late-counted votes—could very well shape his political fate tonight. Meanwhile, Vice President Harris plays it safer, rallying at her alma mater and keeping faith in a generation of voters who align themselves more with her vision of inclusion, progressive ideals, and the continuation of the Biden-Harris legacy.

Let's face it—American elections today are more marathon than sprint, thanks in part to the reforms aimed at expanding voter participation. From the Voting Rights Act to the more recent For the People Act, voting processes have been opened up to include as many citizens as possible, and yet, the counting remains cumbersome. Multiple states, including Pennsylvania, Wisconsin, and Georgia, are likely to be the culprits of any delay, not because of incompetence but due to regulations surrounding mail-in and absentee ballots. Pennsylvania, for instance, only begins counting mail-in votes on Election Day—just like they did in 2020. Georgia, meanwhile, is dealing with record voter turnout, which is a double-edged sword: a triumph for democracy, but a bottleneck in counting ballots.

 

To the average American watching cable news with snacks in hand, this might feel like a repeat of the 2020 nail-biter. Election denial, claims of voter fraud, recounts—the ghosts of 2020 haven’t yet been laid to rest. Trump, more experienced this time, has perhaps adopted a softer rhetoric, but don’t be fooled—his legal team is on standby, ready to raise questions if the numbers aren’t in his favor. And we know from history—whether it’s Bush v. Gore in 2000 or the chaos of 2020—that when elections are close, they end up in court as much as in the court of public opinion. Proverbs tell us, "The axe forgets, but the tree remembers." Trump’s campaign has not forgotten 2020, and its strategy tonight shows it.

The needle, as they say, will hover, and networks will be reluctant to call anything prematurely. We might get an inkling, an educated guess—but America’s networks, burned by past false projections (think back to Dewey Defeats Truman), know better than to declare a victor when votes are still being counted. As the Federal Election Commission repeatedly states, the process must be thorough, transparent, and compliant with each state’s laws. This is particularly true in battleground states where razor-thin margins could mean a recount—possibly a trigger for another political and legal saga.

Harris and Trump have approached this final day with contrasting tones. Trump, basking in the echoes of his previous MAGA rallies, appeals to nostalgia—a yearning for a version of America he claims has been lost. Harris, meanwhile, faces a challenge: maintaining enthusiasm for a government she’s been part of, without appearing as just an extension of President Biden. Biden’s approval ratings, hovering around 42%, reflect a weary electorate—one uncertain if they are satisfied or simply fatigued by the polarized nature of American politics. This means that Harris must differentiate herself just enough to attract swing voters while keeping the Democratic base energized, and that delicate balancing act doesn’t end on Election Day; it continues until every ballot is tallied.

One thing that has become clear is that despite the grand speeches and last-minute pleas, this election will hinge not on charisma but on turnout. Voter mobilization has proven to be a deciding factor in recent American elections. In 2020, Biden's victory was credited to efforts that boosted turnout, particularly in urban centers and minority communities, who responded to a complex combination of social justice issues and pandemic-related crises. In this election, the turnout strategy has been no less critical. Harris has focused on galvanizing young voters, Black women, and urban centers, while Trump has leaned heavily on rural counties and working-class white voters. It’s as if both sides are digging trenches deeper, expanding bases but struggling to persuade the opposition—classic trench warfare of modern U.S. elections.

The narrative isn’t just about who casts the most votes tonight—it’s about how and when those votes are counted. Swing states, with their patchwork of regulations, hold the key to this drama. Florida is expected to count votes faster because of early processing, but it may not be enough to call the race definitively without knowing what happens in places like Arizona and Nevada, where counting can drag on for days. The irony, of course, is that many of these laws were designed to prevent voter fraud, to ensure “integrity,” but have instead created procedural roadblocks that make Election Night a bit of a guessing game. The wait, we are told, is the price of freedom—a rather poetic line until it’s three days later and your sleep-deprived democracy is still waiting for Nevada.

As Americans, we’ve come to accept this unpredictability in elections, but we have not grown comfortable with it. Perhaps it is because we see elections as the pulse of our freedom, yet that pulse is increasingly delayed, tangled in bureaucracy and procedural delays. The world watches, as it did in 2020, trying to make sense of a system that is a mix of tradition and confusion—a system in which, despite advances in technology, humans remain at its core, with all the delays and errors they bring.

Trump needs 270 electoral votes. Harris needs 270 electoral votes. And yet, neither may know for certain tonight if they’ve gotten them. "Patience is bitter, but its fruit is sweet," goes the old adage, and that patience will once again be tested by slow counts in pivotal states. While pundits argue over networks trying to be the first to call results, the rest of us are left to wonder whether the American electoral system, this great, unwieldy beast, could finally modernize for good. But who needs that when we’ve got watch parties, legal battles, and a national dose of suspense that would make Hitchcock proud?

And so, dear reader, brace yourself. You may need to brew an extra pot of coffee tonight—or perhaps tomorrow night too—because once again, Election Day is no longer just a day. It’s an era of prolonged suspense, and it looks like it’s here to stay. In the grand American tradition of excess, even counting ballots now takes longer than the parties that celebrate them.

Forget Policy: Social Media Influencers Are America’s New Campaign Managers

 

TikTok dances and influencer challenges have more power over the minds of young voters than any debate stage ever will—welcome to politics in the age of dopamine addiction.

The 2024 U.S. elections are not just a contest of policies, promises, and political parties—they're a battle fought through TikTok dances, Twitter threads, and Facebook posts. In a world where a well-placed emoji can mean the difference between trending and tanking, social media platforms have emerged as the true influencers of public perception. The likes of TikTok, Facebook, and X (formerly Twitter) are shaping voter behavior, especially among the younger demographics, in ways that traditional campaign strategies could never have imagined. Whether you love it or loathe it, it seems that these digital platforms are now the de facto campaign managers of the modern era.

TikTok, the video-sharing app with over 150 million American users, has rapidly transformed from a dance challenge playground to a political battleground. In the lead-up to the elections, candidates and political movements have been using TikTok to spread their messages, particularly targeting younger voters. Kamala Harris’s campaign, for instance, has embraced the platform, collaborating with influencers and encouraging political engagement through challenges and viral content. With a user base mostly composed of Gen Z, TikTok's influence is especially powerful. Young voters are less likely to consume news from traditional outlets, and instead, they're getting political updates between cooking tutorials and cat videos. This shift in how political information is disseminated has dramatically altered how candidates reach the younger electorate.

Yet, not all TikTok users are enthusiastic voters. Recent polling data from Cygnal has indicated that many young TikTok users, particularly those in lower-income brackets or with less formal education, are unlikely to vote. Despite Kamala Harris and her campaign investing millions of dollars into influencer collaborations, the return on that investment in terms of actual voter turnout remains uncertain. Nevertheless, these efforts reflect the campaign's awareness that if they want to get their message across to the youth, they need to speak their language—and TikTok is the perfect platform for that.

But TikTok isn’t the only platform that’s playing a pivotal role. Facebook, or Meta as it's now officially called, is still a major player when it comes to political influence. Despite the controversies surrounding it, including data privacy issues and the spread of misinformation, Facebook remains one of the most utilized platforms for political advertising. Harris’s campaign and its allies have spent over $182 million on ads via Meta and Google, compared to just $45 million spent by Trump’s campaign. The vast amount of money poured into Meta platforms underscores how much campaigns still believe in the power of social media advertising. Facebook’s expansive reach across age groups gives it a unique edge, providing campaigns access not just to the younger Gen Z voters but also to older generations who still frequent the platform.

Not to be outdone, X (formerly Twitter) has also seen its role in shaping political discourse grow more contentious, especially since Elon Musk’s acquisition of the platform. Musk, a figure with an opinion on just about everything, hasn’t been shy about sharing his political preferences. His open endorsement of Donald Trump has turned X into a sort of digital megaphone for Trump’s campaign. While some see Musk’s behavior as a refreshing exercise in free speech, others view it as an abuse of power, with a billionaire using his platform to influence an election. Since Musk took over, X has become a hotspot for misinformation, with fewer content moderators and more lenient policies on fact-checking. The platform has become a chaotic blend of memes, misinformation, and serious political debate—a reflection of Musk’s often contradictory approach to both business and politics.

What makes the influence of these platforms even more fascinating is the fact that many of the most impactful messages aren’t coming from the candidates themselves but rather from ordinary users and influencers. A seemingly random 15-year-old in London can post a video about U.S. politics on TikTok and receive hundreds of thousands of views, illustrating just how decentralized political influence has become. The democratization of content creation has led to a situation where anyone, anywhere, can sway opinions and potentially influence voter behavior. But this also means that misinformation can spread like wildfire, unchecked and unchallenged, contributing to confusion among voters.

Investigations have already revealed just how vulnerable platforms like TikTok and Facebook are to the spread of misinformation. Both platforms have been caught approving advertisements containing blatant falsehoods about voting procedures and requirements. Fake news about weather manipulation, election rigging, and other outlandish conspiracy theories has managed to slip through content moderation systems, reaching millions of users. The platforms’ attempts to counteract this with fact-checking and content warnings have been, at best, a game of whack-a-mole. For every piece of misinformation that gets taken down, another pops up, spreading across the network like a virus. It’s a sobering reminder of the double-edged sword that social media has become—a tool for both enlightenment and deception.

It’s not just politicians who are leveraging these platforms; celebrities and musicians are also jumping into the fray, using their vast followings to make political statements. Taylor Swift, for example, has been very vocal about her political beliefs, urging her fans to register to vote. Swift’s influence is not something to be underestimated—her endorsement of a particular candidate or cause can lead to spikes in voter registrations, especially among young people. The intertwining of music and politics has been a trend that only seems to be growing. Barack Obama was one of the first to recognize the power of music in politics, with his carefully curated playlists, but Swift and other artists have taken it to a whole new level, blending entertainment and activism in a way that is both powerful and, at times, controversial.

But while the influence of TikTok, Facebook, and X can be a force for good, encouraging political participation and spreading important messages, it also poses significant risks. The blending of entertainment and politics has led to a situation where the lines between information and propaganda are increasingly blurred. Young voters, who might lack the historical context or critical thinking skills to separate fact from fiction, are especially vulnerable. The algorithms that these platforms use are designed to keep users engaged—they prioritize content that is sensational, emotionally charged, and likely to provoke a reaction. This often means that the content most likely to go viral is not necessarily the most accurate or informative but rather the most entertaining or outrageous.

Social media’s impact on the 2024 elections has also highlighted the growing role of data in political campaigns. Campaigns are using data collected from social media interactions to tailor their messages and target specific demographics more effectively. This hyper-targeted approach has its benefits—it allows campaigns to speak directly to voters’ interests and concerns—but it also raises significant privacy issues. The Cambridge Analytica scandal in 2018 showed just how easily data can be misused, and despite promises of reform, concerns remain about how much data platforms are collecting and how it’s being used.

There’s an old saying that “a lie can travel halfway around the world while the truth is still putting on its shoes,” and nowhere is this more evident than on social media. A misleading tweet or a fabricated TikTok video can gain millions of views in a matter of hours, while fact-checkers scramble to keep up. The influence that these platforms wield over the electorate cannot be overstated. They have become the modern-day public square—a place where ideas are exchanged, arguments are had, and, unfortunately, where misinformation is often spread without consequence.

As we head into the final stretch of the 2024 election season, one thing is clear: the campaigns that are best able to navigate the chaotic waters of social media will have a distinct advantage. Platforms like TikTok, Facebook, and X aren’t just tools for communication—they’re battlegrounds where public perception is won or lost. The candidates who understand this—who can master the art of the viral moment, who can leverage endorsements from influencers, and who can effectively counter misinformation—will be the ones who come out on top. The rest will be left wondering how they lost an election to a dance video.

And perhaps that’s the real irony here. In a country that prides itself on the democratic process, on the power of ideas and debate, it may very well be that the future of American politics is decided not in the halls of Congress or on the debate stage but in a 30-second clip set to a catchy pop song. It’s democracy in the age of distraction—and it’s as unpredictable as it is unavoidable.