Wednesday, June 04, 2025

 

Source: Ojalá

In Argentina, the popular feminist uprising has yet to halt the worst aspects of President Javier Milei’s right-wing economic policies, which have installed what Gago describes as “state-led anti-feminism.” In Mexico, we are undergoing a peculiar process of immense confusion, and must carefully try to identify the main nodes of conflict. 

According to high-ranking officials here, we now live in an “era of women” thanks to changes in government. This so-called “era of women” comes on the heels of almost 10 years of feminist struggle, which built upon an even longer fight for justice by mothers of young people who have been murdered and disappeared. Complaints against the judiciary and state violence have long been central to their demands for justice.

The current cycle of struggle opened in 2014 with the incarceration of Yakiri Rubio—a young woman who was trapped in a web of state (in)justice in Mexico City after she killed one of her aggressors during an attempted sexual assault—and the disappearance of 43 students from the Ayotzinapa Rural Teacher Training School in September of that terrible year.

On April 16, 2016, there were concerted calls to action against femicides, with coordinated demonstrations in over 10 cities protesting violence and impunity. The suffering of women and feminists led to uprisings against killings, increasingly common in small towns and cities under militarized occupation. Activists denounced the ever-increasing femicides and the networks of complicity that make judges, prosecutors and police indistinguishable from the criminals who carry out murders and disappearances.

In conversation with Gago’s piece but from my home in Mexico City, I want to explore three ideas to illustrate key debates in this country, now ruled by a female president and other women who claim the Mexican state is now “feminist.” 

First, I want to look at the issue of militarization, which has gone hand in hand with the arrival of women in high-ranking government positions in Mexico. Second, I want to reflect on the anti-feminism of this “progressive” state, making clear that this is not something limited only to far right governments, even though it is less vocal and offensive in scope here. And finally, I’ll explore the growing threat of co-optation the feminist movement faces.

Women administrators, military power

When Claudia Sheinbaum became Mexico’s first female president, a glass ceiling that seemed impossible to break was shattered. Political parties adopted the principle of “gender parity” for candidates in response to the intense pressures from women and gender dissidents in the years prior, although this was never a demand in the streets or demonstrations.

As a result of these changes, women now govern the bulk of the urban population and the country’s central cities including in Mexico City, Mexico State and Morelos.

Now, it seems public life in Mexico is reviving a heteropatriarchal gendered system widely recognized in the family sphere. Women are in charge of efficient administration, while men claim to “offer protection” while also keeping their decision-making prerogative on crucial matters.

The strong presence of women in government in the over six months since Sheinbaum took office has come with the continuation of an unprecedented increase in the influence and presence of armed groups (the army, the navy, the National Guard and the Secretariat of Public Security, at the federal level). The armed forces have encroached on the economic and political spheres and now undertake activities that civilians had previously controlled. 

These policies are in line with international trends of reorganizing public budgets to increase defense spending and expanding the influence of the military in political affairs

Progressive anti-feminism 

While other countries in the region undergo a strong rightward shift, Mexico is experiencing the continuity of a progressive government. The Morena party and its allies now have majorities in Congress and the Senate, as well as in many state governments, all led by Mexico’s first female president.

Despite efforts to paint the government of Andrés Manuel López Obrador (2018–2024) in a progressive light, we quickly learned that right-wing governments are not the only ones to carry out “state-led anti-feminism.”

AMLO’s government, with its nationalist and anti-neoliberal rhetoric, set out to strengthen strategic public sectors—especially oil and electricity—and spurred on the construction of mega-projects by the armed forces. This was combined with a strong conservatism on gender issues, revealed most clearly by a sharp decrease in public spending on services such as daycare and reproductive health.

The government reluctantly allowed the decriminalization of abortion in several states, the result of the intense struggles by many women. And Mexico’s Supreme Court—atrophied and now undergoing a process of reorganization—finally decriminalized abortion nationally.

The AMLO and Sheinbaum administrations have not explicitly oppose the rights of trans people, but allowed a series of crimes against the community to go unanswered, while perpetrators acted with impunity.

Resisting capture

In addition to state-led anti-feminism from an economic and social point of view, feminists face a growing threat of co-optation in Mexico today. Relations between government agencies and autonomous collectives and organizational efforts, each with their own initiatives, are fraught. 

This tension was visible in the most recent International Women’s Day march in Mexico City. Mothers of murdered young women had to dodge public officials and pro-government organizations who tried to finagle their way to the front so that they could pretend to lead the huge protest.

We have also witnessed the shuffling of feminist professionals within the public bureaucracy, particularly those active in the justice system. After being given public positions in relevant places due to pressure from mothers and relatives of murdered women, some have now been transferred to other roles where their efforts and contributions have less impact. In the deep waters of the state’s administrative structure, this flow of professionals from one office to another undermines incremental achievements of previous struggles that seek to undo networks of complicity and improve the glacial speed of the criminal legal system.

The creation of a Women’s Secretariat—a federal secretariat—under Sheinbaum to address issues of equity and violence did not come with increased funding for programs aimed at women. Instead, it has led to even more attempts to co-opt and copy the organizational strategies of autonomous feminists. One example is the government’s ongoing efforts to build a network called the “Weavers of the Homeland.” This initiative currently involves promoting a census of diverse projects and local efforts led by women. Once that information is compiled, it will be used to show support for the government.

These actions, in Diego Castro’s words, are an example of the translation of demands for justice into the administrative prose of subsidies and support, managed from above. This is old school Mexican corporatism, now focused on neutralizing feminist strength.

Over the past years, here in Mexico, the transfeminist fight for justice has been creative and resilient. Justice is central to feminist organizing. The government has started a process of judicial reform with a crucial date on the horizon—June 1, when the first public vote to elect the judges, ministers and magistrates, who will make up the judiciary.  

But we need more than a superficial turnover of officials in the justice sector. That is why we must reflect deeply on what we have achieved and what we still need to do. It is crucial that we strengthen the ties we have within and among our diverse and often contradictory collectives and efforts. The time of rebellion led by women and dissidents, weaving together in grassroots struggle, remains open.

Raquel Gutierrez Aguilar has participated in various experiences of struggle on the South American continent, works to encourage reflection and the production of anti-patriarchal weavings for the commons. She is Ojalá’s opinions editor.

 

Source: Progressive International

On a smog-choked late November morning in Delhi, a crowd of workers, union leaders and political allies gathered under a haze of winter pollution to send a message to one of the world’s most powerful corporations called: “Make Amazon Pay.” The protest was part of a global day of strikes and demonstrations, and among the speakers was Gorakh Mengde, the General Secretary of the Amazon India Workers Union, who said that Amazon’s “management attempted to stop us [from protesting that day] in multiple ways. We want to say to Amazon—You could not stop us today, you cannot stop us in the future.”

If Amazon relied on intimidation, another company opted for outright retaliation. A Zomato delivery worker who addressed the same rally was fired on the spot—via WhatsApp. His manager sent him a video of his own speech moments earlier, followed by a cold notification: he was being deactivated from the app.

Such stories of hyper-precarity are becoming alarmingly common. India already has over 8 million gig workers; by 2030, that number could explode to 23 million. Yet companies like Zomato, Swiggy, and Urban Company insist they are merely “digital intermediaries,” not employers—a legal sleight of hand that allows them to dodge responsibility for fair wages, safe working conditions, or social security.

The stakes were underscored this week by Rahul Gandhi, leader of India’s opposition, who wrote, “these workers bring us food, deliver essentials, and drive us safely — in the heat, cold, and rain. Yet too often, they are blocked from their apps without explanation, denied sick leave, and paid according to opaque algorithms.”

The struggle of app workers represents the cutting edge of the contradiction between capital and labour. But workers aren’t waiting for change—they’re organising to build unions and win, matching the new challenges for workers through landmark breakthroughs in labour law.

Leading the charge in India are two members of the Progressive International: Mazdoor Kisan Shakti Sangathan (MKSS) and the Telangana Gig and Platform Workers Union (TGPWU).

Their efforts are already rewriting laws. In 2023, Rajasthan became India’s first state to pass social security protections for gig workers, thanks to a relentless campaign by MKSS. The union not only forced the government to act, but also secured a seat at the drafting table for Nikhil Dey, a veteran MKSS activist.

This week, Karnataka followed suit, after a long struggle and campaign. In Karnataka, the campaign for gig worker legislation had faced strong opposition and stonewalling by India’s powerful aggregator and software industry, which made alarmist submissions and blocked the law for over a year and a half. However, gig workers’ groups and unions, including the MKSS, kept the campaign going, and finally, the political leadership ensured a legislation with many progressive provisions was enacted in the State. Karnataka law goes further than Rajasthan’s guarantee of social security by adding transparency in algorithmic pay, an end to arbitrary blocking of workers from apps, effectively sacking without due process and provisions for fair terms of contract.

In Telangana, the TGPWU’s organising power has yielded even greater results. The Union has organised waves of strike action against platforms, including against Zepto, just last week. The fruits of this hard organising will be seen on Monday, 2 June, when the state of Telangana passes its Gig Workers Bill into law. It goes further still with key provisions to ensure fair wages, social security, and grievance redressal. The law will place trade unions at the table with the government and companies on a Tripartite Welfare Board. All app workers will be registered with the Board so they can receive social security.

Crucially, the Bill gives workers the right to access information about algorithms which have an impact on their working conditions, including but not limited to fares, earnings, customer feedback and allied information. It also prevents the arbitrary blocking of workers from apps and makes the companies responsible for providing a safe working environment. Despite these advances, TGPWU is campaigning for more for its members, including sector-specific minimum pay.

The fight in Telangana drew international backing. In April, a Progressive International delegation—including Clara López (Colombia), Andres Arauz (Ecuador), and Giorgio Jackson (Chile)—met state government officials, MKSS, and TGPWU to strengthen the bill. Their involvement underscores a truth that gig giants want to ignore: worker solidarity doesn’t stop at borders.

For India’s app workers, after years of being treated as disposable, they’re proving that collective action works. Success is contagious. App worker power is growing.

The Indian laws just enacted need to be studied to see if some of the progressive formulations can be incorporated into law in other parts of the world. PI will make an effort to carry these lessons across borders and continents as a part of workers’ solidarity, victories, and inspiration wherever new challenges emerge.

DIRECT ACTION!

Source: Chalkbeat

Hundreds of high school students in New York City walked out of class Tuesday for what organizers called an “anti-Trump, nonpartisan” protest against attacks on democracy under President Donald Trump’s administration.

Teenagers representing dozens of high schools, many sporting red, white, and blue apparel and face paint, met in Union Square. Organizers made the case that pushing back on President Donald Trump’s efforts to crack down on universities and student protesters while ramping up immigration enforcement is a matter of standing up for constitutional rights rather than partisan politics.

“We want to unite kids from all political stances around protecting the constitutional rights that we believe are being threatened right now by the Trump administration,” said Nava Litt, a senior at the Bronx Science of High School who helped organize the protest. She noted that members come from a range of political backgrounds, from “serious pro-Palestinian activists to people who have parents who voted for Trump and have gone to Trump rallies.”

Students touted signs including, “Fascism is bad, actually,” to, “WE’RE NOT RADICAL. WE JUST PAY ATTENTION IN HISTORY CLASS.”

The rally, which follows mass protests in cities across the country in recent months, represents one of the first large-scale mobilizations of New York City K-12 students since Trump took office in January.

One attendee noted that unlike many adult or even college-age protesters, most high school students cannot vote — making it critical for them to raise their voices in other ways.

Litt created a student group called “We the Students” with some of her peers in February as a “nonpartisan, pro-democracy group.” For the walkout, she tapped her social networks, connecting with students from about 20 schools and deputizing “captains” at those campuses to organize their classmates.

Some attendees said they’ve been yearning for a chance to make their voices heard about how the Trump administration’s policies are affecting them and leapt at the chance to protest.

“I lead the political science club at my school, so I’m just kind of constantly looking for stuff like this,” said Madeline LaGreco, a freshman at the Clinton School in Manhattan, who found out about the rally on Instagram, then posted it on her own account to share with friends.

Others had to overcome some hesitation before attending the rally.

“I know a lot of people close to me, a lot of my friends who do go to my school judged me for wanting to go to this,” said Samantha Kim, also a freshman at the Clinton School. “It’s one of those things where they don’t believe in politics. But at this point, it’s not politics, it’s human rights.”

The specific issues that rally attendees and speakers highlighted ran the gamut from the crackdown on academic freedom in higher education, to immigration enforcement, to the targeting of law firms. Several attendees said they were deeply concerned about the effects of threats to pull federal funding from colleges they would be applying to in a matter of years.

Others pointed out that Trump’s efforts to dismantle the federal education department could affect them immediately. Many students raised concerns about the prospect of friends or relatives facing immigration enforcement.

The day before the rally, Chalkbeat reported on a 20-year-old high school student in the Bronx who was detained by Immigration and Customs Enforcement, or ICE, after showing up to a routine court date — the first known case of a current city public school student detained by immigration officials.

“The administration has done so many things, you really can’t even pinpoint one specific thing,” said Abigail, a student at Brooklyn Technical High School who asked to use only her first name. “It calls for just a massive expression of anger directed towards the administration.”

Litt said the idea of walking out of school was rooted in a practical New York City tradition. “Walkouts are something New York City kids do and have done before and understand how they work and understand the tradition of it,” she said. “And there’s a real robust protest culture in New York City high schools, and we want to tap into that energy and tap into that enthusiasm.”

Some students said they were expecting consequences like detention for attending the protest. To minimize academic disruptions, student organizers decided to wait until after AP exams, which took place earlier in May.

City schools Chancellor Melissa Aviles-Ramos said that students who left school before dismissal would be marked absent from any classes they missed.

“We respect the voice of students as they speak out on the difficult issues of our time and advocate for their peers,” she said in a statement. “As we have said repeatedly, our students should remain in school to continue to get the world-class education they deserve.”

Some students said that when they weighed the possible short-term consequences of missing school against the longer-term importance of speaking out, they came down firmly on the side of attending the rally.

“You can be worried about … current repercussions,” said LaGreco, the Clinton School freshman. “But the further this administration does the things that they’ve been doing, the actual repercussions in the real world, not just our school, completely outweigh everything.”

The Debt Economy Is Eating Everyone Alive

Source: Jacobin

Last month, Billboard reported that around 60 percent of general admission attendees of the music festival Coachella financed their tickets through a “Buy Now, Pay Later” (BNPL) payment plan. These programs function as short-term loans, allowing consumers to pay for purchases in a series of installments — often with low or no interest. Now, while this figure was troubling, it was not inherently alarming: in theory, BNPL offers flexible access to short-term credit, and as long as each installment is paid on time, no additional costs are incurred.

But that caveat is proving more than hypothetical, as more and more US consumers fail to repay their loans. In its Q1 earnings release, Klarna, one of the largest BNPL providers, reported a net loss of $99 million — up more than 100 percent from the previous year. Klarna also posted a 17 percent year-over-year increase in customer credit losses, meaning that it made more money off of late fees than last year, both in total and as a share of total lending. Much of that growth increase stems from the BNPL industry’s aggressive expansion in the United States, exemplified by Klarna’s partnership with DoorDash in March and the announcement just days ago that Costco would partner with Affirm on purchases above $500.

In other words, US consumers are increasingly taking out loans to attend concerts, order takeout, and buy groceries — and are increasingly failing to pay back those loans on time. Survey data shows that Gen Z and millennial consumers are more likely to use BNPL plans to finance travel costs, especially those involving live events. Within those demographics, according to a Federal Reserve report from December 2024, people with lower credit scores and overall financial well-being indicators are more likely to use BNPL programs. While people on firm financial footing may find that BNPL offers them a convenient way to spread out their payments toward a major purchase, such as plane tickets, the industry’s incursion into everyday spending is cause for concern.

It is not hard to understand why these companies need to be regulated more, not less: their business model depends on people going into debt, missing payments, and then paying the BNPL provider late fees or interest on their loans. By dressing up their services with buzzwords and sleek user interfaces — and exploiting regulatory loopholes that exempt them from standard disclosure requirements — these companies prey upon people’s FOMO, persuading them to buy Coachella tickets with money they don’t actually have. In fact, the 2024 Federal Reserve study referred to prior research showing that people spend more when BNPL is offered at checkout — precisely why vendors partner with BNPL companies in the first place. It’s a clear example of how these companies exploit cognitive biases to profit from consumers’ debts.

BNPL companies are not alone in embracing this business model. The entire credit industry has made record profits in recent years by jacking up interest rates and consumer penalties. A few years ago, a startup called Yendo unveiled a new credit card backed by people’s car titles, targeting subprime customers who are unable to secure conventional loans. Its rapidly increasing user base is a bleak reflection of financial precarity and corporate greed.

The troubling trends related to BNPL programs are merely one small symptom of a broader economic sickness, exacerbated by the extreme instability of the first few months of the second Trump administration. The Federal Reserve Bank of New York reported that total household debt increased in Q1 2025 to $18.2 trillion, while aggregate delinquency rates increased as well, with 4.3 percent of outstanding debt in some stage of default. A considerable portion of this phenomenon owes to the resumption of student loans’ inclusion on credit reports, amid an overall crackdown on student debt holders, undoubtedly worsening the debt strain on American families. Of course, Trump’s tariff policy carries with it the promise of a price burden that disproportionately falls upon the millions of Americans who live paycheck to paycheck, and the threat of a recession looms large.

In a country like the United States, in which the risk of being saddled with inordinate medical debt at any given moment is ever present, the dangers of yet another credit product — even one marketed as flexible and interest-free — should not be underestimated. Because BNPL loans are not reported to credit agencies, it is difficult to quantify the true scale of this “phantom debt.” On one hand, this opacity means that missed BNPL payments won’t immediately damage a consumer’s credit score; on the other, it makes it difficult to paint a complete picture of the overall health of household finances. Recently, in response to the heightened risk brought about by the proliferation of BNPL programs, the UK government announced new regulations to rein in what it called the BNPL “wild west of unregulated borrowing.” The rules set standards to protect consumers from debt traps, bringing BNPL in line with other credit products.

The United States, however, has taken the polar opposite approach. Rather than bolstering oversight, the federal government has systematically kneecapped the Consumer Financial Protection Bureau (CFPB), leaving American consumers more vulnerable to predatory corporate practices. One year ago, the CFPB issued an interpretive rule that would treat BNPL loans like credit-card debt, bringing them under the purview of the Truth in Lending Act’s Regulation Z. The Trump administration, however, has drawn from a well-used playbook of refusing to enforce existing regulatory guidance, stating that it will deprioritize enforcement and intends to revoke it altogether. The message to the fintech industry is unmistakable: the government is on its side, not that of American consumers.

The Trump administration has made it clear where its loyalties lie — helping the ultrawealthy grow richer at the expense of the working class. The expansion of BNPL debt is just one more frontier in the capitalist quest to commodify as much of the human experience as possible, with predatory corporations continuing to push the envelope under a government that is unwilling to curb their unethical practices. It is not normal to go into debt to order a pizza or attend a concert, yet these companies seek to normalize exactly that. The fact that so many people take the bait, especially those in younger generations, is indicative of the broader economic anxiety and hopelessness that characterizes our broken economy.

 

Source: Nobody's Voice

When we contemplate the dystopian landscape at this grim moment – the rotting corpse of liberal democracy, with its gaping death-head of Joe Biden, its confused center that will forever not hold, and its left wing in seemingly terminal internecine conflict, there are a million fingers to point. We can name Rush Limbaugh and Ronald Reagan until we are hypnotically at one with the cosmos, but maybe the fatal flaw is closer at hand – the propensity of the best of us to be seduced by facile, intellectualized, performative slight-of-hand. The vehicle for our plunge from the cliff might be nothing more than the seemingly benign liberal “legacy media,” the stuff that made back porch summer Sunday mornings so indulgently reassuring – stuff like The Atlantic, The New York Times, and The New Yorker.

Let me take a short, express journey in my time capsule to 2015 – three months into Trump’s fatal candidacy, a time when we might have been spared by some sort of butterfly effect. On October 12 of the year leading into our definitive election “extravaganza” Malcolm Gladwell, one of our most esteemed writers of the genre I am accusing, wrote a piece for The New Yorker entitled “Thresholds of Violence.”

It struck me, almost a decade ago as boldly counter intuitive, but now I am unsettled by the utter pointlessness of Gladwell’s virtuosity – this was, at best, a missed opportunity. The piece, intending to recreate our understanding of school shootings, seems clearly, in hindsight, to have been an exercise in public masturbation. Gladwell might have used his story telling gifts to warn us that the walls of the empire had begun to collapse, and that mass school shootings were not events to consider apart from the wholesale societal implosion that now opened up the bowels of hell allowing Trump to emerge. As a matter of counterpoint here is how David North analyzed the Columbine Massacre (which Gladwell takes to be the prototype of school shootings):

“What is happening to America’s kids? This is a question posed by Philip Roth in his provocative novel American Pastoral, which tells the story of a family ruined by a teenage daughter’s dreadful and unexpected act of violence. “Something is driving them crazy. Something has set them against everything. Something is leading them into disaster.”

What is that something? Look honestly at this society–its political leaders, its religious spokesmen, its corporate CEOs, its military machine, its celebrities, its “popular” culture, and, above all, the entire economic system upon which the whole vast superstructure of violence, suffering and hypocrisy is based. It is there that the answer is to be found.”

In contrast to North’s analysis, there is no cultural or political context in Gladwell’s piece about school shootings – instead the issue of student gun violence has been squeezed into the most avidly reductionist corner of academic research. Gladwell examines the distinctly American passion for ritual mass slaughter as if he gazed at a meteorite from the Kuiper Belt. He whittles down the sequential nightmare of US school shootings until it fits neatly into the theory of crowd dynamics proposed by Stanford sociologist, Mark Granovetter:

“In the elegant theoretical model Granovetter proposed, riots were started by people with a threshold of zero—instigators willing to throw a rock through a window at the slightest provocation. Then comes the person who will throw a rock if someone else goes first. He has a threshold of one. Next in is the person with the threshold of two. His qualms are overcome when he sees the instigator and the instigator’s accomplice. Next to him is someone with a threshold of three, who would never break windows and loot stores unless there were three people right in front of him who were already doing that—and so on up to the hundredth person, a righteous upstanding citizen who nonetheless could set his beliefs aside and grab a camera from the broken window of the electronics store if everyone around him was grabbing cameras from the electronics store.”

Gladwell, via Granovetter, rather gratuitously proposes that we take riots to be an abstract representation of group sociopathy – this rhetorical convenience eliminates social and political factors from our field of vison, for riots, originate in the protest movements of the most dispossessed people. In the poetic words of Antonia Malchik, writing in Aeon, “rioting is rooted in the unwillingness to be ignored.” Riots, rather than being a heterogeneous collection of people with different “thresholds” have (in conscious or subconscious form) a unifying feature – a collective sense of inequity, anger and desperation.

You can probably guess where Gladwell is taking us in his mangled efforts at sociological metaphor – he proposes that school shootings, beginning with Eric Harris “a classic psychopath,” have progressed as “a slow motion riot” to eventually include “righteous upstanding citizens.” The righteous upstanding citizen that Gladwell handpicks to fit his rhetorical template is a 17 year old would be school shooter, John LaDue, interrupted by police in the act of assembling his bombs and guns, and rather naively eager to unburden himself to questioning officers.

“”He wasn’t violent or mentally ill. His problem was something far more benign. He was simply a little off,” we are told.

Gladwell notes that three examining psychologists agreed that LaDue fit the criterion for Autism Spectrum disorder. He acknowledges that LaDue lacked empathy but then qualifies, “But the empathy deficits of the people on the autism spectrum—which leaves them socially isolated and vulnerable to predation—are worlds apart from those of the psychopath, whose deficits are put to use in the cause of manipulation and exploitation.”

Gladwell is making a series of extraordinary conceptual leaps without the detailed research rigor required to make his case – that, over time, “normal” kids have, like the hundredth rioter to grab a camera from a broken storefront window, emerged as willing participants who plan and carry out school massacres. As a prominent contributor at the New Yorker, Gladwell could have consulted with any number of “experts” in the field of autism who would have told him that Autism Spectrum Disorder and Antisocial Personality Disorder are not mutually exclusive diagnostic categories – individuals can be diagnosed with both afflictions. LaDue, who planned to gun down his sister, his parents and his classmates in an elaborate, well organized act designed to remedy the botched aspects of the Columbine massacre, clearly lacked empathy in the manner of an irredeemable psychopath, and not as an aspect of his alleged Asperger’s Syndrome. In fact, people on the Autism Spectrum do not notably lack empathy, but struggle to comprehend social cues and the complexities of non-verbal communication. In other words, Gladwell needed to circumvent clinical realities in order to make LaDue fit into the Procrustean Bed of Granoveter’s threshold theory. Thus, he strikingly concludes:

“But the riot has now engulfed the boys who were once content to play with chemistry sets in the basement. The problem is not that there is an endless supply of deeply disturbed young men who are willing to contemplate horrific acts. It’s worse. It’s that young men no longer need to be deeply disturbed to contemplate horrific acts.”

Gladwell is a gifted writer and clearly aspires to think outside of the box, or, at the very least, to appear to do so, but he is running on fumes in this particular piece. Most writing in the legacy media has devolved into a formulaic exercise in political evasion. As a subscriber to The Atlantic (I confess this with a tint of shame, for most Atlantic pieces are shallow and predictable) I encounter the wearisome practice of including brief quips from interviews with experts as an obligatory flourish, and Gladwell’s use of Granovetter’s threshold theory has the air of a media script written with a yawn. Why on earth should the succession of school shootings be conceptualized as a slow motion riot? Both school shootings and riots in the US link to the dissolution of the US empire, both reflect a shrinking, depressed, moribund society, ever more uncertain and violent. What possessed Gladwell to consider that violence in the US should be understood as reflecting, rather than the specific vicissitudes of US militaristic culture, abstract rules of human nature. Riots occur all over the world – school shootings belong exclusively to the US.

I rather see school shootings and riots as opposing responses to US implosion – shootings are an effort to surrender, rioters attempt to fight back. School shooters seek to end it all in a paroxysm of destructive, suicidal rage, they create a mocking, distorted mirror of the society that made them. Rioters, on the other hand, symbolically claw at the rotting institutions and corrupt officials that torment us when there are no means of legitimate redress.

I had suggested in the beginning of this essay, that Malcolm Gladwell’s piece might be thought of as creating a “butterfly effect” – a tiny turning point as our nation shifted to an exit ramp toward fascism. Trump and Hillary Clinton – the yin and yang of the US death cult were both simply candidates in October of 2015. There was still a tiny window of escape, but Malcolm Gladwell unwittingly shut it.

He might have written that school shootings were a harbinger of Trump and his fascist death machine. Who are Eric Harris and Donald Trump other than conjoined twins sharing billions of blood vessels, organs and the exact same DNA. Would it have been too big an ask to expect that Malcolm Gladwell and other stars of legacy media ought to read the tea leaves on our behalf, and see the parallel lines speeding toward a bad end?

Gladwell might have plunged neck deep into the uniquely US culture of school violence – a culture not merely reflecting gun fetishism, but made up of underfunded classrooms, looming Middle Eastern warfare for young men, a massively powerful, privatized system of state school testing (that assured that every school day would be in the service of tedious, bureaucratic routines) and the quasi eugenic subdivision of school-rooms into holding pens for the US class structure.

Eric Harris – the patron saint of school massacres – displayed grandiose, narcissistic, psychopathic tendencies that led him to a sort of perverse immortality. Harris imagined himself presiding over a global massacre with only a few survivors of his own choosing. Columbine was to be the spark to light Harris’ personal Armageddon.

And now we have an older, slightly more grizzled Eric Harris – a school shooter transformed into an elder statesman, more or less. Donald Trump also aspires to burn it all down, sterilize the half burnt planet and choose a few billionaire survivalists to represent the human race while hunkered down in underground bunkers. Would it have been too much to expect from the legacy press – to connect the dots?

Now that Trump is here and turning the entire planet into a Columbine crime scene, with students (immigrant college enrollees) hiding, and shooters (ICE agents) hunting them down, pundits from the legacy media now tell us that Trump materialized out of the blue. We continue to be gaslighted.

Peter Wehner recently wrote in The Atlantic:

“Not too long ago, many Republicans proudly referred to themselves as “constitutional conservatives.” They believed in the rule of law; in limiting the power of government, especially the federal government; in protecting individual liberty; and in checks and balances and the separation of powers. They opposed central planning and warned about emotions stirred up by the mob and the moment, believing, as the Founders did, that the role of government was to mediate rather than mirror popular passions. They recognized the importance of self-restraint and the need to cultivate public and private virtues. And they had reverence for the Constitution, less as a philosophical document than a procedural one, which articulated the rules of the road for American democracy.”

Publications like The New Yorker and The Atlantic have long been waging war against reality. There is no laudable past to comfort us during Trump’s dystopian reign, no time when we enjoyed the rule of law, overseen by honorable Republicans and Democrats. Eric Harris and Dylan Klebold shot up Columbine during the presidency of Bill Clinton. We have travelled long and obliviously to get to where we are now, and the legacy media has kept us staring at mirages for a long time. We ought to hold them accountable.


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Phil Wilson is a retired mental health worker and union member. His writing has been published in ZNetwork.org, Current Affairs, Counterpunch, Resilience, Mother Pelican, Common Dreams, The Hampshire Gazette, The Common Ground Review, The Future Fire and other publications. Phil's writings are posted regularly at Nobody's Voice (https://philmeow.substack.com/).