Confidence: The Catalyst That Transforms Competence into a Legend

 

Confidence is a beacon that draws others in, an unspoken power that lifts the capable from obscurity to prominence—when wielded with skill, it transforms the ordinary into legends. In plain English, Boldness alone can win hearts, but it takes competence to conquer minds. Together, they make a force that reshapes destinies and redefines what is possible.

Confidence can turn a whisper into a rallying cry, transforming indecision into a surge of momentum. Imagine if Winston Churchill had said, "We might resist on the beaches, weather permitting." History would likely have taken a drastically different turn. Confidence, it turns out, isn't just a mood; it’s a force, a magnet that pulls people together, often tilting the scales in favor of those who dare to declare their certainty. It inspires, it mobilizes, and yes—it even crowns leaders with an aura of status. But here’s the catch: without competence, confidence is little more than a gilded bluff, and without confidence, competence is often rendered voiceless.

Take, for instance, Ukraine's President Volodymyr Zelensky. When Russia's invasion rattled the world, he chose not to flee but instead to step onto the global stage with profound certainty. He declared, "The fight is here; I need ammunition, not a ride." Such words encapsulate what makes confidence contagious. Zelensky's unwavering stance inspired millions, from Ukrainian soldiers to foreign allies, turning his conviction into an anchor for resistance and resilience. This is the power of confidence when paired with competence—a combination that can uplift entire nations and spark collective action.

On the other side of this coin lies confidence without competence—an enticing yet ultimately hollow facade. It’s the CEO who makes an overconfident acquisition, only to see its value unravel. Research by Ulrike Malmendier and Geoffrey Tate found that overconfident CEOs often chase acquisitions, with little regard for objective valuation, believing themselves to be exceptional judges of worth. They are more averse to seeking external financing, fearing their company is misunderstood or undervalued, but this hubris often leads to questionable business decisions that destroy value instead of building it. The same echoes in politics; bombastic leaders whose rhetoric inspires temporarily but falters without the competence to deliver results eventually find themselves at the mercy of public disillusionment.

Yet, it’s not always the overconfident individuals that falter; it’s also the hesitant, the capable but unsure, who shrink into the background, deprived of the opportunities they could easily command. Competence without confidence tends to impose invisible limits. Many talented individuals prefer the quiet reliability of their own skills, not realizing that visibility and opportunity are a package deal, delivered most often to those who seize the moment with unwavering certainty. The paradox here is tragic—talent shrouded in hesitation remains hidden, while talent that is amplified by confidence often commands applause.

A fascinating study by Cameron Anderson at the University of California, Berkeley, explored this phenomenon through the lens of overconfidence among MBA students. Participants were asked if they recognized a variety of famous names—some real, some fabricated. Those who feigned familiarity with "Bonnie Prince Lorenzo" or "Windemere Wild" were often the ones who ended up commanding greater influence among their peers by the end of the term. It’s clear that the perception of knowledge—even when it is fabricated—can carry power, bestowing influence on those who dare to seem knowledgeable, even in ignorance.

The impact of confidence can even be seen in the corporate ladder’s well-documented bias towards those who appear assertive and assured. The study by Finnish academics Terhi Maczulskij and Jutta Viinikainen reveals a telling relationship between personality traits and entrepreneurial success in Finland. Self-confidence, it turns out, is often the differentiator between those who launch successful ventures and those who keep their ideas wrapped in cautious silence. The message is clear: the marketplace doesn’t just reward competence, it also rewards the confidence that makes competence visible.

And when it comes to the battlefield of global politics, a person like Zelensky embodies that rare blend of boldness and skill. His background as an entertainer, a figure many wrote off initially as lacking the gravitas for leadership, became his unlikely source of strength. The theater gave him an audience, and the confidence he wielded on stage translated seamlessly into leading a nation under siege. His speeches, delivered not as carefully crafted diplomatic scripts but as impassioned calls for solidarity, resonated across borders. This is the embodiment of what Nathanael Fast of the University of Southern California discovered: confidence creates feedback loops. Once it’s rewarded—once a person feels validated by their success—they trust in their abilities even more, thus continuing a cycle of boldness and reward.

Of course, it’s important to acknowledge that excessive self-assuredness, left unchecked, can be disastrous. There’s no better symbol of this than overconfident Wall Street bankers leading up to the 2008 financial crash, armed with the unwavering belief that they could defy economic laws. They gambled heavily on complex financial instruments, driven by the mistaken belief that they could beat the system. The results were catastrophic, leaving behind a scar in economic history. This shows that while confidence draws followers and commands influence, it must be anchored in the realm of reality and capability.

For every hero of confidence, there are those whose stories serve as cautionary tales. Guoli Chen of INSEAD and his co-authors demonstrated in their study how overconfident CEOs were slower to adjust their earnings forecasts when proven wrong, illustrating a stubbornness that often outstays reason. Overconfident individuals are not just prone to mistakes; they are prone to the persistence of their mistakes, unwilling to let go of the convictions that led them astray.

Yet, we cannot overlook how vital confidence is in motivating human potential, even if it occasionally leads us down a wayward path. One intriguing study by Joris Lammers at the University of Cologne demonstrates the tangible difference confidence can make. Participants primed to think about moments when they had power performed better in mock interviews, with more persuasive cover letters and better in-person presentations. Confidence, then, doesn’t just change how others see us—it changes how we see ourselves and how we perform.

One might say that in the ideal world, confidence would match competence in equal measure, a perfectly calibrated force to push forward those who deserve it. But the truth is that we live in an imperfect world, where charisma often overtakes content, and where loudness sometimes replaces logic. That’s why it’s imperative for society, for organizations, and for individuals, to recognize and encourage competence while also understanding the inextricable value of confidence.

History reminds us time and again of leaders whose audacious self-belief allowed them to bend the course of events. Churchill himself once said, "Success consists of going from failure to failure without loss of enthusiasm." Confidence can be blind; it can overstep and tumble into arrogance. Yet when paired with skill, it becomes transformative. The caution, then, is not against confidence itself but against blind confidence—confidence without the backing of substance.

Ultimately, confidence is like a glittering crown—it can make you stand tall, attract the admiration of crowds, and place you in the spotlight. But without competence, it’s merely an empty decoration, bound to slip off when reality shakes its wearer. On the other hand, competence, though steady, is too often found standing alone in the shadows. It’s only when the two meet—confidence infused with competence—that real power emerges.

So, the next time someone declares, “Trust me, I know what I’m doing,” remember that the loudest voice in the room may not always be the most capable. Still, in a world that often mistakes certainty for correctness, we must admit: confidence wins people over. Just be wary of the emperor without his clothes—after all, it’s only a matter of time before he gets a drafty surprise.

Digging His Own Grave: Putin’s Houthis Partnership as His Last Mistake

 

Putin's reckless alliance with the Houthis is not an act of defiance, but a desperate cry for the West to finally put him out of his misery—one missile at a time. In plain English, aligning with the Houthis is Putin's loudest declaration yet that he is out of strategic ideas, and the West should gladly take this as his invitation for a crushing response.

The enemy of my enemy is not always my friend—especially when that enemy is busy making mistakes that offer a golden opportunity to topple them. Vladimir Putin, perhaps in his most desperate gambit yet, has decided to put his hand in the troubled waters of the Red Sea. By siding with the Iran-backed Houthis, a group notorious for targeting key shipping lanes and threatening regional stability, Putin is unwittingly sending a gift to the West—an opportunity to bring him down once and for all.

The news of Putin's frustrations over President Biden's recent authorization for Ukraine to strike inside Russia using U.S.-supplied long-range missiles is spreading quickly, and for good reason. This bold move by Biden is likely driving Putin's fresh alliance with the Houthis, a group that has already been on shaky ground with the international community. The Houthis, for years, have had a reputation for their missile and drone attacks, often targeting Saudi Arabia and threatening international shipping routes crucial to the global economy. Now, with Putin openly offering support, Russia is taking its chaos-exporting playbook to new waters—literally.

It is hard not to see the irony: Putin, who frequently scolds Western countries for meddling in affairs beyond their borders, has plunged headfirst into a regional conflict that could have consequences beyond the Red Sea. By aligning himself with the Houthis, he is not only inviting a confrontation with Western powers but also committing a strategic blunder that might be his undoing. The Red Sea, after all, is no ordinary body of water; it is a key artery for global commerce, through which 10% of the world's trade passes. Any disruption there doesn’t just hurt one country—it affects almost every nation, making it everyone’s problem, especially for those who have a vested interest in free and secure maritime routes.

The history of the Houthis’ rise is already a troubling tale. Originating from Yemen, the Houthi movement initially started as a group protesting marginalization. However, over time, they became notorious for their alliances with Iran, targeting Saudi Arabia with ballistic missiles, and causing one of the worst humanitarian crises in modern history. Adding Putin to this toxic mix does not just worsen an already tragic conflict; it turns the Red Sea into a geopolitical tinderbox ready to ignite. It might have been a calculated move for Putin, a way to get back at Biden and the West, but it's also a misstep that gives Western leaders a legitimate reason to take collective action against Russia's interference.

A proverb comes to mind here: "When digging a pit for your enemy, be careful not to fall into it yourself." Putin, by enabling the Houthis to intensify their aggression, is essentially digging his own geopolitical grave. By placing Russia’s weight behind the Houthis, he is risking further isolation from the international community, which has already had enough of his adventures in Ukraine. For Putin, who has continuously tried to project himself as a strategic genius, this move reveals something else: a reckless abandon that seems to suggest he is running out of ideas—and out of allies.

The Red Sea is also strategically vital for the United States and its allies, including European powers and regional actors like Saudi Arabia and Egypt. These countries cannot afford to let Putin and the Houthis destabilize such a crucial maritime route. Western nations, already on edge due to the war in Ukraine, now face a challenge in the Red Sea that directly affects global trade and energy supplies. With Putin essentially pushing his chips into the Middle Eastern pot, he may have underestimated just how serious the response might be.

President Biden’s decision to allow Ukraine to strike deep into Russian territory is a game-changer. It not only escalates the conflict but also reveals the extent to which the United States is willing to go to support Ukraine and pressure Russia. Frustrated by these developments, Putin’s alliance with the Houthis reeks of desperation—a dangerous, unpredictable move by a leader with limited options. While the Kremlin may see this as a way to spread Western resources thin, it could easily backfire. This reckless act gives the United States and its allies a prime opportunity to finally "fix" the Putin problem.

By threatening the safety of the Red Sea, Putin is essentially begging for a unified Western response. If merchant ships come under fire, if global trade is disrupted, or if oil tankers are threatened, the justification for collective action will be there on a silver platter. Already, U.S. naval forces are increasing their presence in the region, while allies are considering measures to ensure the Houthis’ aggression is contained. Putin might have hoped to use the Houthis as a tool for leverage, but in reality, he has provided the West with the perfect rationale to increase pressure on Russia—not just economically, but militarily if needed.

The West has made mistakes before, often missing critical opportunities to act decisively against authoritarian leaders. However, this is not the time to be indecisive. Putin's actions in the Red Sea are not just another instance of meddling; they are a direct attack on the very principles that keep global trade and diplomacy functioning. If Western nations let this slide, they would essentially be signaling that Putin can do whatever he wants without facing consequences. On the other hand, taking decisive action now—whether by providing even more advanced weaponry to Ukraine, imposing tougher sanctions on Russia, or increasing military patrols in the Red Sea—could mark the beginning of the end for Putin's long reign of chaos.

One cannot help but think of other strongmen in history who overstayed their welcome on the world stage—leaders who thought they were invincible until they weren't. Whether it was Napoleon overextending his campaigns or Saddam Hussein provoking the ire of a global coalition, the pattern is clear: overreach leads to downfall. Putin’s involvement with the Houthis may well be his moment of overreach. He is giving the West every reason they need to come together and act, and this time, they should not miss the chance.

Putin may not know it, but by helping the Houthis lob missiles at merchant ships in the Red Sea, he is indeed digging his grave. He is giving the West a golden opportunity to nail him—to ensure that his brand of reckless adventurism is finally brought to an end. And America, alongside its allies, must see this as the final solution to the Russia problem. For years, the West has been playing catch-up, reacting to Putin’s moves rather than anticipating them. But now, with Putin’s latest gamble in the Red Sea, it’s time to change the script.

A desperate man does desperate things, and Putin's support for the Houthis is exactly that—a desperate move by a leader running out of cards to play. The world has seen this story before, and it rarely ends well for those who believe they can defy international norms indefinitely. If Putin thinks that aligning with a group of militants will somehow keep him in power, he might want to revisit his history books—or better yet, read his own obituary draft, written not by his friends, but by his own hand, one Houthi missile at a time.

 

Biden Grows a Backbone: How Biden's ATACMS Approval Could Make Putin the Laughingstock of Europe

 

President Biden's authorization to let Ukraine strike deep within Russian territory is the first real step toward ending Putin's reign of terror and exposing his fragile military as the paper tiger it truly is. It's time Ukraine flipped the script: With Biden's authorization, the oppressed are becoming the aggressors, and it's Putin's turn to taste the devastation he has caused for far too long.

They say fortune favors the bold, and President Joe Biden's recent move proves that sometimes a lion has to roar. Authorizing Ukraine to use U.S.-supplied long-range missiles to strike deep within Russian territory is perhaps the boldest decision Biden has made during his presidency, shedding his historically cautious approach to foreign policy. It is a declaration that enough is enough—a stance that could shake up the geopolitical chessboard, in a world already tired of Vladimir Putin’s stale tricks.

When Biden announced the removal of restrictions on Army Tactical Missile Systems (ATACMS), he effectively handed Ukraine a ticket to stop fighting with one hand tied behind its back. Until now, Ukraine’s military had to make do with short-range strikes and limited offensives, waiting on Western allies to decide how much help was too much. The newly provided ATACMS, capable of striking targets far beyond the front lines, promise to escalate the fight in a way that Russia will not be able to ignore—nor counter easily. It's clear Biden has decided that this is no time for half measures. ATACMS will allow Ukrainian forces to strike critical Russian military assets, including those in and around Kursk, where North Korea’s newly deployed forces have settled in. Putin’s murmurings of escalation in response to the ATACMS authorization amount to nothing but what we should call the "rattle of ants"—a loud but insignificant threat.

Let’s not forget that for months, Biden resisted calls to provide these long-range capabilities. Fears about the so-called escalation ladder held back his administration, keeping them from fully supporting Ukrainian forces. The concerns included a limited stockpile of ATACMS and Russia’s repositioning of crucial assets beyond the reach of the Ukrainian forces. However, recent events seem to have dispelled the doubts that previously plagued Biden’s approach. Perhaps it was North Korea’s decision to deploy thousands of soldiers to aid Russia—a move that could potentially signal an expansion of the war—that finally pushed Biden to take the shackles off.

And what’s the reward for restraint? A barrage of Russian missiles, launched over the weekend, killed at least seven Ukrainians and shattered what was left of Ukraine's power infrastructure. To say that Putin has not made good on his threats to Ukraine would be a gross understatement. His aggression has been ongoing and consistent—he has plundered, killed, and maimed without remorse. Perhaps it’s time he received a taste of his own medicine.

The ATACMS authorization doesn’t just send a message to Russia, it sends a clear directive to the rest of the world. Other nations should take note and consider making similar moves. France, Germany, and the United Kingdom have all stood by Ukraine in this crisis, but the recent U.S. move begs the question—will they too step up and remove restrictions on offensive weapons systems? Perhaps it is time the EU matched its rhetoric with weapons that can truly make a difference. This isn’t just a fight for Ukrainian sovereignty anymore. It’s a fight for global norms, for the very principles of national sovereignty and international order.

Meanwhile, Donald Trump, the President-elect, has promised to limit support to Ukraine, vowing to end the conflict at all costs. Trump’s impending policy shift could potentially jeopardize everything Ukraine has fought for so far. $175 billion of U.S. support to Ukraine, a staggering sum that has been crucial in keeping the Ukrainian defense alive against Russian advances, may suddenly find itself on the chopping block. Biden’s bold move to authorize ATACMS could be seen as his last push before the political tides shift and the winds of support begin to blow in a different direction. But even if Biden's term is almost over, he's making sure his stance is unequivocally clear—support Ukraine, strike Russia where it hurts, and let Putin reap what he’s sown.

Historically, Ukraine has been in this position before. From the Mongol invasions to the horrors of the Holodomor, the Ukrainian people have withstood outside interference and attempted subjugation. Putin’s aggression is just the latest chapter in a long book of attempted domination. This time, however, Ukraine is fighting with modern tools, not the spears of a bygone era. The ATACMS could mark a turning point, giving Ukraine a means of counterattack that may finally bring the conflict to a decisive, favorable conclusion.

What’s even more pressing is the influence of outside players in this conflict. North Korea has now decided to add its weight to the scales, deploying troops to Russia's Kursk region. The implications of this are staggering. Not only does it mean an expansion of Putin's war coalition, but it also demonstrates how emboldened Russia’s allies are becoming. From Iran's supply of drones to North Korea's deployment of soldiers, the roster of rogue states openly aiding Russia grows longer. This tells us one thing: the West must act with even greater resolve. If dictatorships band together to wage war, democracies must answer in kind—swiftly and decisively.

And then, of course, there are Putin’s threats. They range from vague intimations of nuclear escalation to overt promises of “unpredictable consequences” for the West. The problem is, no one takes Putin seriously anymore. He’s cried wolf too many times. He has puffed out his chest, postured, rattled his sabers, and yet, he has been forced into embarrassing retreats more than once. It’s almost poetic, the way the world has seen through his bluster and reduced his apocalyptic threats to mere background noise. “The rattle of ants” indeed—noise that is irritating but ultimately insignificant in the grand scheme of things.

The authorization for long-range strikes into Russia isn’t just a military strategy—it's a statement. It’s a statement that the free world will not bow to threats from tyrants. If anything, the escalation from Russia and its allies signals desperation, a sense of impending doom that even Putin must feel deep down. Authorizing ATACMS sends a strong message that the time for cautious diplomacy is over; now is the time for results, for action, for humiliating Putin and showing him that his atrocities come with a price.

As for Putin, well, it seems he’s been riding a horse that’s about to throw him off. His dreams of resurrecting the Soviet empire are crumbling faster than he can concoct new plans. There’s a proverb that says, "When you go hunting elephants, be sure you don't become the prey." Putin went hunting for Ukraine, thinking it would be an easy target. But in his arrogance, he underestimated the resilience of the Ukrainian people, the unity of Western nations, and now, the bold resolve of Joe Biden. The prey is now turning on the hunter, armed not just with Western weapons, but with the righteous fury of a people wronged.

In the end, this escalation is about survival, honor, and justice. Ukraine fights not just for its territory but for the very right to exist as an independent nation. Biden’s authorization of ATACMS missiles is not the last nail in the coffin for Putin’s war, but it may well be the beginning of the end. For all of Putin’s vaunted strength, for all his promises of nuclear doom, he now faces an opponent bolstered by the most powerful military alliance in history, one that is finally willing to strike deep into the heart of Russian territory. Biden has decided to act like a man; perhaps it’s time other leaders took the cue.

And as for Putin, well, here’s hoping he likes the taste of humble pie—because it's about to be served in generous portions.

 

The Green Delusion: Why Abandoning Fossil Fuels Will Leave Us in the Dark

 

The so-called green revolution is an illusion when we depend on fossil-fueled electricity to power green technologies. Until solar panels and wind turbines can keep factories humming day and night, fossil fuels aren't just an option—they’re a necessity.

It seems we're all being driven by ideals—but perhaps the engine isn't quite built yet. The Biden administration, in partnership with climate enthusiasts across the West, is racing to abandon fossil fuels: gas-powered cars, gas-run factories, and anything that smacks of hydrocarbons—all within a mere decade. It's almost as if fossil fuels are a dragon to be slain, and electric vehicles (EVs) are the knight in shining armor. But behind all the promises, slogans, and political cheers lies an inconvenient truth: fossil fuels are not just a bad habit we need to kick. They are the foundations of our modern world, and we need to be realistic about how we use them while integrating green technologies. Pushing for an all-out shift to 18th and 19th-century "green tech" as a complete substitute is misguided. Instead, fossil fuels and new energy sources need to coexist, creating a bridge that takes us toward a genuinely sustainable future.

When examining the history of energy transitions, one critical point stands out: newer technologies do not simply erase older ones. They complement them, add to them, and help evolve their usage. Take coal, for instance. When it began powering industries during the 19th century, it did not entirely replace traditional windmills and watermills. Instead, it simply offered another source of reliable energy that was crucial for an expanding industrial landscape. As oil entered the scene, coal still played a significant role, especially in energy-dense industries such as steel production. Fast forward to today—renewables are growing, but coal, oil, and gas remain essential. Even in 2023, coal still accounted for 20% of electricity production in the United States, according to data from the U.S. Energy Information Administration (EIA). The point here isn’t about resisting change; it’s about recognizing that change takes time, and abandoning one energy source wholesale has consequences. We can innovate, but we must be careful not to disrupt what already works in our fervor for what’s new.

Now let’s talk about electric vehicles, which have become the crown jewel of the green energy narrative. But are they truly as "green" as we want to believe? EVs are often marketed as a clean alternative to internal combustion engines, but their connection to fossil fuels remains largely ignored. As of 2024, over 60% of electricity in the United States still comes from fossil fuels—primarily natural gas and coal. This means that the electricity used to charge the much-touted Tesla or Nissan Leaf may well be coming from a coal-fired power plant. The International Energy Agency (IEA) highlighted this irony in a recent report: while EVs reduce tailpipe emissions, they don't erase the fossil fuel footprint if the grid isn’t clean. This makes EVs a paradox: electric, yes, but only as green as the energy source that powers them.

Moreover, the production of electric vehicles has a dark side that is rarely mentioned. The batteries that power these vehicles rely on minerals like lithium, cobalt, and nickel—resources that are not only limited but also have a significant environmental and human toll. The Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC) supplies about 70% of the world’s cobalt, a crucial component in lithium-ion batteries. Reports from Amnesty International in 2023 showed that child labor and hazardous working conditions are rampant in these mines. The "green revolution" is indeed coming at a cost, and it’s a cost being borne by the world's poorest and most vulnerable. If this is the price of our so-called clean energy future, perhaps we should rethink our definition of “clean.”

Solar panels and wind turbines are often held up as the solution for all our energy needs, but their limitations are conveniently brushed aside by their advocates. Solar energy only works when the sun is shining, and wind energy only works when the wind is blowing. These are not baseload power sources, and until we figure out large-scale, efficient energy storage—something far from being commercially viable—they cannot replace fossil fuels. Germany, for example, experienced notable instability in its grid after it moved away from nuclear and coal power too hastily. During the winter of 2022, Germany had to reactivate several coal-fired power plants to avoid power shortages. Here lies another paradox: a nation often seen as a green leader was forced to rely on the dirtiest energy source to keep its citizens warm. It seems that in the rush to go green, some essential lessons about energy stability were forgotten.

And then there is nuclear power—a source that is clean, reliable, and incredibly efficient. It could play a crucial role in reducing greenhouse gas emissions while providing stable energy. France serves as a prime example: around 70% of its electricity comes from nuclear power, giving it some of the lowest carbon emissions per capita in Europe. Yet in the United States, nuclear energy has largely been sidelined in favor of wind and solar—technologies that are intermittent at best. Why are we so eager to embrace technologies that we know are unreliable, while ignoring one that has proven its worth for decades?

The Biden administration's ambitious goal of making half of all new vehicles sold by 2030 zero-emissions might sound impressive on paper, but the infrastructure tells a different story. As of 2024, there are approximately 140,000 public EV charging stations in the U.S. Studies suggest that the country will need at least 500,000 to meet the projected demand by 2030. Moreover, the majority of EV charging still happens at home, with residential power that, in many cases, is derived from fossil fuels. The costs of EVs also make them unattainable for many; with the average price hovering around $55,000, EVs are still a luxury that many working-class families simply cannot afford. While we dream of reducing emissions, we also need to ask ourselves if we are creating an economy of energy haves and have-nots. Are we really fighting for a better world if only the wealthy can afford to participate?

California’s recent experience serves as a cautionary tale. In its enthusiasm for green energy, the state faced severe rolling blackouts in 2023. The problem? An overreliance on renewable energy without adequate backup from reliable fossil fuels or nuclear power. Policymakers forgot a crucial element in their rush to appease environmental activists: energy must be available when people need it. Blackouts in the fifth-largest economy in the world are hardly a sign of progress. Instead, they serve as a stark reminder of what happens when ideology trumps practicality.

The reality is that the transition to green energy cannot be rushed without causing major disruptions. Even the International Energy Agency, which is hardly a cheerleader for fossil fuels, acknowledges that oil, gas, and even coal will be necessary components of the global energy mix for decades to come. As of 2023, over 80% of global energy still comes from fossil fuels, and this figure will not drop substantially without both technological breakthroughs and realistic timelines. Fossil fuels are not just an evil to be eradicated; they are a crucial part of our energy strategy. And until renewable sources can provide the same reliability and scalability, we need to keep fossil fuels in the picture.

The Biden administration and other leaders must recognize that our energy future will not be built on exclusion but on integration. We need fossil fuels to support the growth of renewables, not only because they provide stability but because they are still the most efficient way to power heavy industries, shipping, and aviation. The world’s shipping fleets and airplanes cannot run on batteries, at least not for many decades. Ignoring these realities in favor of appeasing environmentalist groups is not just impractical—it’s dangerous.

The dream of a purely green future is compelling, but it must be grounded in reality. What we need is not an ideological crusade but a balanced, pragmatic energy policy. The future is not about choosing between fossil fuels and green technologies but finding a way for them to coexist, collaborate, and evolve together. To borrow an old proverb, "Don't throw the baby out with the bathwater." In our rush to embrace the new, let's not forget the old still has value. The solution lies not in driving blindly towards a single ideal but in recognizing that the road is wide enough for multiple lanes.

So perhaps, instead of a green utopia, what we really need is a practical one—a future where energy is reliable, affordable, and yes, greener. Let’s not fool ourselves into thinking that we can power a modern world with wishful thinking. If we keep pretending that windmills and solar panels are all we need, we may just end up like Don Quixote, tilting at windmills, chasing a dream that was never really there.

Gaetz’s Past Is Too Toxic for Senate Approval—Not Even Trump’s Endorsement Can Cleanse It!

The U.S. Senate isn’t about to put a fox in charge of the henhouse, especially when that fox is under suspicion for ethical violations and scandalous behavior like Matt Gaetz. In plain English, appointing Matt Gaetz as attorney general would be like entrusting a recovering arsonist with the keys to the fire department—a dangerous, reckless gamble that the Senate simply won’t make.

When the circus comes to town, you can always count on the clowns to steal the show, and with President Donald Trump's latest round of appointments, there's one name that has everyone leaning in: Congressman Matt Gaetz. It's a bold move—and boldness is something Trump is no stranger to. After all, loyalty is the currency of power, and who better to run the Department of Justice than a loyalist ready to bend his will to Trump? But therein lies the rub. Loyalty is what gets you nominated, but suitability is what gets you confirmed, and therein lies the problem.

The U.S. Senate has been known for its reputation as the chamber of sober second thought, and it seems to be standing by that moniker now more than ever. The appointment of Matt Gaetz as attorney general is a stark reminder of just how far President Trump is willing to go to stack the federal government with loyalists. Gaetz's loyalty to Trump is undeniable—so much so that it sometimes seems to border on fanaticism. However, being a loyal foot soldier doesn't always translate to the qualities expected in a role that demands impartiality and adherence to the law. And the Senate knows it.

It’s not the first time Trump has tried to install a loyalist at the helm of a crucial federal institution. During his first term, we saw similar tactics, with loyal individuals put in positions of power, sometimes with disastrous results. The difference this time is that Gaetz is particularly polarizing, even within his own party. Many Republicans find it hard to endorse his radical approach, which is precisely why the Senate's scrutiny is more crucial than ever. The system of checks and balances exists for moments like this—to prevent a president from unilaterally appointing individuals who may not serve the interests of justice but rather the interests of the man in the Oval Office.

Gaetz’s baggage is no secret. Despite his high-profile defense of the former president, Gaetz has often found himself in hot water—facing Congressional ethics inquiries and a federal investigation into allegations of sex trafficking a minor. Even though he was never formally prosecuted, such allegations hang like a sword of Damocles over his public career. For someone tasked with leading the Department of Justice, a department whose mission is to uphold the law impartially, Gaetz’s track record is problematic, to say the least. How can someone with such unresolved allegations be expected to inspire trust and faith in the justice system? The FBI, an agency that would be under his oversight, once investigated him. It’s almost like asking a fox to guard the henhouse, and the Senate is all too aware of this glaring contradiction.

Trump’s picks reflect a trend of appointing not the best candidates, but those who will toe the line. Loyalty above all else—that’s the theme of his appointments. Whether it’s Pete Hegseth, who wants to rid the Pentagon of “woke” officers, or Tulsi Gabbard, who has views that seem more suited for an apocalypse cult rather than a director of national intelligence, the focus has been on rewarding loyalty rather than competence. And Gaetz’s nomination is the zenith of this approach. While Trump supporters see it as a fitting move to drain the swamp, many moderates and independents see it as a step toward turning federal agencies into political instruments of Trumpism.

But here’s where the Senate’s role becomes critical. As the confirmation process looms, senators—including many Republicans—are bracing themselves for what could be one of the most contentious hearings in recent memory. Gaetz’s bombastic style and unrepentant persona are exactly what Trump loves. He’s flashy, he’s controversial, and above all, he’s fiercely loyal. However, what plays well in rallies doesn’t necessarily play well in Senate chambers, where decorum and qualifications take precedence. It’s worth pointing out that the Senate, historically, has acted as a moderating force, especially when presidents have attempted to push boundaries. Back in 1937, Franklin D. Roosevelt tried to pack the Supreme Court to pass his New Deal reforms, but the Senate pushed back, preserving the balance of power. Fast forward to today, and we’re seeing another kind of court-packing—except this time, it’s the federal government being stuffed with loyalists instead of impartial experts.

The numbers don’t bode well for Gaetz, either. Recent polling suggests that even among Republicans, there’s growing discomfort with his nomination. A CBS News poll indicates that 45% of Republican voters believe that Gaetz's controversies make him unfit for the attorney general role. And it’s not just public opinion. Behind closed doors, many GOP senators have privately expressed unease with Gaetz’s nomination, worried that his appointment could become a liability for the party as it heads into the next election cycle. The GOP’s narrow majority in the Senate means that a few defectors could sink Gaetz’s nomination—a very real possibility considering the likes of Mitt Romney, Susan Collins, and Lisa Murkowski, who have broken ranks with Trump in the past.

Trump’s insistence on rewarding loyalty with powerful positions is understandable in a political sense. It’s natural for presidents to want trusted allies in top positions. After all, the phrase “Keep your friends close and your enemies closer” wasn’t coined in vain. However, the attorney general is not just another cabinet position. The role requires an individual who can be an impartial arbiter of justice, someone who can resist political pressure, even from the president. Gaetz’s history shows that his primary allegiance has always been to Trump—not to the Constitution, and certainly not to the principles of justice that the attorney general is meant to uphold.

It’s easy to see why Trump would want Gaetz in that seat. Gaetz is a fighter, someone who wouldn’t hesitate to launch investigations into Trump’s enemies or shield his allies from scrutiny. The Department of Justice under Gaetz would likely serve as an extension of Trump’s personal will—a dangerous precedent in a democracy that prides itself on the rule of law. The Senate, which remains independent and, at least in principle, non-partisan, is poised to act as a bulwark against this kind of overreach. They’ve done it before, and they’re likely to do it again.

It’s worth noting that the Constitution, the very foundation upon which the American republic is built, envisioned the Senate as a check on executive power. Article II, Section 2, provides the Senate with the power to advise and consent to appointments. This isn’t just a formality; it’s a vital mechanism to ensure that no single branch of government can wield unchecked power. Congressman Gaetz’s nomination is a test of this mechanism, a test to see whether the Senate will uphold its duty or bow to the pressures of loyalty politics.

The proverb says, “You can’t put new wine in old bottles.” Gaetz, with his controversial past and radical views, is exactly that—old wine in an old bottle, trying to masquerade as something fresh for Trump's new term. But the Senate, it appears, has a pretty good sense of smell, and they're not buying it. If there’s anything the Senate has demonstrated over the years, it’s that loyalty to a person is no substitute for loyalty to the Constitution.

As the confirmation process approaches, one can only wonder if Congressman Gaetz will face the reality that the Senate is a place where showmanship and bombast take a back seat to qualifications and integrity. It’s not a carnival sideshow; it’s the heart of American governance, where loyalty tests belong to the voters, not to a single man’s desire to crown his loyal subjects. And if Gaetz thought this was going to be an easy ride, well, it seems the Senate might just be ready to burst that bubble, with a big, bipartisan pin.

 

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.