Kleptocrats love buying property, partly because it’s a good way to get rid of a lot of money at once, but mainly because it tends to be both a good investment and gives one a nice place to live. So kudos to the authors of this report for showing which countries aren’t doing enough to keep the kleptocrats out. 

“Real estate has long been known as the go-to avenue for criminals and the corrupt for laundering their ill-gotten gains. Seeking security for their investments, they often target the world’s most attractive markets to place their dirty money,” the report states.

Many countries can be a bit lax about cracking down on these purchases, because they see them as useful investment into their economies. In fact, they have a bad habit of offering golden visas alongside the property to further incentivise purchases, although some countries – including, earlier this month, Spain – have begun to realise these are not the convenient source of free money they were presented as, precipitating as they do housing shortages and rising rents.

TI divided its analysis into two halves, highlighting not just flaws in the anti-money laundering architecture, but also in the availability of data. If journalists, analysts or activists can’t see who owns what, then no one can tell if kleptocrats have been allowed to sneak through the net. It’s worth reading in full, particularly because of the way it shows that these two halves of the problem feed off each other, for good and ill. 

South Africa, Singapore and France get singled out for praise, with the worst performers – Australia, the United States and South Korea – losing out because they were marked down dramatically on the weakness of their anti-money-laundering protections. When it came to the opacity of ownership information, the worst offenders were Japan, India and the United Arab Emirates (surprise! Okay, not at all a surprise).

I hope that this report informs national and international discussions about fighting kleptocracy. But I also hope someone points out that TI needs a better acronym before OREO becomes entrenched. My suggestion for a new name, after literally minutes of intense thought, would be Lax Ownership Of Property Hurts Ordinary Law-Abiding Entities (LOOPHOLE). 

Although I concede that “entities” isn’t a great word at the end there. Neither is “lax” at the beginning, to be honest. 

WITH ‘FRIENDS’ LIKE THESE

While on the subject of acronyms, thank you to a reader for alerting me to the existence of the “Mobilizing and Enhancing Georgia’s Options for Building Accountability,
Resilience, and Independence” bill, which has been put forward by a bipartisan group of US congresspeople. I am a sucker for a daft acronym, and suspect this is the first time a Georgian word has featured in a proposed piece of American legislation. “Megobari” being, of course, Georgian for “friend”.

Georgia has been suffering from political turbulence for some time, with the Georgian Dream political party – backed by the country’s richest man, the Russophile oligarch Bidzina Ivanishvili -- cementing control over the country. Transparency International’s Georgian branch has been publishing a list of high-level officials who hold what it considers to be questionable wealth. There are worrying signs that Western companies are happily enabling what’s happening in the South Caucasus. Georgia used to be a rare success story when it came to combating corruption, as well as a staunch Western ally in a difficult part of the world.

We would be fools to let it slip back to its bad old ways, without at least trying to arrest the slide a little, so I hope the Megobari bill makes some progress. “This bill provides Georgian Dream officials with a choice to abandon the would-be dictator Ivanishvili or face sanctions,” said Congressman Joe Wilson, Republican of South Carolina. With the “MEGOBARI” Act now being approved, it marks at least legislative support for Georgia’s EU-leaning democratic aspirations.

WHO NEEDS ENEMIES?

And sticking with acronyms, the House and Senate bills put forward to (under-)regulate the stablecoin industry, and which Donald Trump wants rushed through by August, have the acronyms STABLE and GENIUS, which is witty if you like that kind of thing. 

Back in the latter days of Trump’s first term, Representative Brendan Boyle (Democrat of Pennsylvania) introduced the STABLE GENIUS bill, to try to force the president to undergo a mental acuity test. There’s probably some deep lesson in the fact that an acronym that was intended to mock Trump in his first term is being used to flatter him in his second. But frankly it’s all too depressing to contemplate, so let’s move on.

Though onto a topic that’s also depressing. Here’s an interesting column about how Russian oligarchs are apparently back in the market for New York real estate. It’s been a tough few years for rich Russians, since sanctions have forced them to stay away from their traditional playgrounds in London, Manhattan and the south of France.

But, according to real estate brokers in New York at least, they’re back. “We’re seeing a lot of Russian nationals,” a broker said. “I’ve had five Russians look at properties in the $10 million to $20 million range in the past few weeks -- condos and townhouses.” Over the last couple of years, the broker confirmed, “oligarchs couldn’t buy anything in the U.S., and Putin put pressure on Russians not to buy here or in Europe.”

I’m a little bit suspicious of the claim that Russians are once more hunting for NYC real estate, since I think it would be a foolish oligarch who trusted a large amount of money to there being any stability in U.S. policy towards Russia. But if it is the case, it does highlight some of the issues raised by the OREO (ugh!) index, particularly in the light of the Trump White House’s decisions to scrap much of the anti-corruption architecture. 

That said, I wouldn’t expect much dirty money to be coming from Russians at the moment. Russian buyers have been drying up in Turkey and the UAE, which suggest the Russian economy is not generating the kind of cash that leads to property splurges, not least with U.S. tariffs leading to potentially lower oil prices. In my view, real estate brokers might do better to look more towards the old faithful klepto-gushers of South America and China.

A version of this story was published in this week’s Oligarchy newsletter. Sign up here.

The post Where kleptocrats go house-hunting appeared first on Coda Story.

It's also the current home of Jim Kingman, a Texan lawyer who was invited to the commonwealth in 2023 to act as special prosecutor in a baroque corruption scandal featuring former ex-Governor Ralph Torres, who had been acquitted along party lines in impeachment proceedings in the islands’ senate the year before.

A LESSON FROM SAIPAN

And for Kingman, it’s been basically downhill from there. His attempts to investigate, subpoena or prosecute have been frustrated at every turn by a local elite that’s decided it doesn’t really want him to make any progress. “Where are the feds? Where is the oversight? Where are the ethics committees? Where is the bar? What are we even doing out here?” he asked in a fed-up Facebook post, a year into the corruption trial, with almost no progress made.

With the change in government in Washington, DC, Kingman is clearly concerned about the future of his mission on the islands, and has given an interview to a local journalist who also described the sheer extent of obstruction that Kingman has faced. It’s a bitter read, but it has a defiant tone, a commitment to fighting corruption, that leaves an optimistic aftertaste.

“One promise that I can make is that I won’t quit,” Kingman said. “I can’t promise the desired results in a process I don’t have control over. There is a fundamental change that needs to happen to set up a more sustainable government and that will have to come from the people here. The forces that I have been facing have made it clear that these changes will not be received from an outsider.”

Kingman is just doing his job as a lawyer, but the reason I single him out is that he’s looking pretty unusual among American lawyers at the moment. Faced with hostile politicians, Kingman is choosing to fight. Far better paid, better networked and more powerful lawyers than him are choosing to take a different route and roll over when threatened. 

I’m glad Kingman is sticking to his principles, and wish him luck. If anyone hasn’t read about what Pakistani lawyers did over a decade ago to preserve judicial independence in the face of an interfering autocrat, I highly recommend this piece. Faced with far tougher circumstances than those confronting New York’s white-shoe firms, Pakistan’s lawyers and judges took their struggle to the streets and found that most people are sympathetic to the idea of an independent judiciary that can act as a constraint on a dictatorial, power-hungry executive.

SLOW PROGRESS

Of course, lawyers can take to the streets. But the authorities’ chronic neglect of offices that investigate and prosecute corruption and financial crime has critically hampered their effectiveness. 

The U.K. non-profit “Spotlight on Corruption” has produced a really useful dashboard to track how the British authorities have fared in their efforts against financial crime. Long story short – it’s been pretty bad. If anyone needed proof that underfunding investigative agencies for years and years was an ineffective way to tackle complex criminality, then here it is.

And more evidence has been provided by Transparency International UK’s Ben Cowdock who has produced a fascinating summary of the progress the British authorities are making in reforming its corporate registry. Long story short – it’s not going very quickly. 

With an assessment by the Financial Action Task Force (FATF) on the horizon, the “pressure is on to get Companies House reform right,” Cowdock notes. The FATF sets international standards for tackling money laundering and runs mutual assessments of its members on a regular timetable, and the UK is due to be assessed in December 2027. Before that, however, in February 2026, will be the assessment of the United States and there could be fireworks.

MADE EVEN SLOWER

Donald Trump has just pardoned a corporation for the first time. He decided to cancel the judgement against the founders of a crypto trading company that was fined $100 million last year. Authorities said the fine reflected the expectation that the digital assets industry “takes seriously its responsibilities in the regulated financial industry and its duties to develop and adhere to a culture of compliance.” But Trump appears to have given up on enforcing corporate transparency, which is a central pillar of the FATF’s approach to tackling illicit finance.

“What the getaway car is to a bank heist, the anonymous company often is to a fraud scheme,” said Transparency International U.S. in this useful factsheet of cases in which American shell companies have enabled fraud and financial crime. The Trump administration’s response to this has been to not only do nothing, but to stop what was already being done. There has not yet been a time when the American government has so egregiously flouted the FATF’s core principles. And the U.S. was central to crafting FATF back in the late 1980s, so we are drifting into uncharted and rocky waters. It's hard to imagine the FATF approving of what’s happening, and harder to imagine this White House reacting well to being criticised, so you’d hope the FATF is preparing for the fallout. 

If it is, however, it’s not showing any sign of being ready for battle. Its most recent publication is almost aggressively dull. And the latest public pronouncement from its president suggests that, while she might have some thoughts about the arrangement of the deckchairs, she’s not got much to say about the iceberg up ahead.

I am personally not a huge fan of the FATF, which has been very good at producing documents and very bad at stopping money laundering. In fact, I sometimes wonder if money laundering experts aren’t the modern day equivalent of the self-perpetuating lawyers lampooned by Charles Dickens in “Bleak House”. “The one great principle of the English law is,” Dickens wrote, “to make business for itself.” Still, we might find we’ll miss the FATF if it’s gone. 

AND FINALLY, WHAT IS A KLEPTOCRACY?

I was in Oxford last Thursday to chair an event for Professor John Heathershaw and Tom Mayne, two of the authors of Indulging Kleptocracy, a book about how British professionals have helped foreign thieves and crooks to steal, keep, protect and spend their fortunes. The week before I was in Washington and had lunch with Jodi Vittori, professor at Georgetown University, and author of this recent piece in Foreign Policy headlined “Is America a kleptocracy?”.

These are noted experts on kleptocracy, with lots of very interesting things to say, but they have different definitions of what the word means. In the U.K., Heathershaw and Mayne use it to describe the multinational networks that allow corrupt officials to steal money from places like Nigeria or Kazakhstan, launder it offshore, and spend it in London, the French Riviera or Miami. In the United States, however, Vittori and Casey Michel use it to describe a system of government (like a corrupt version of autocracy, democracy or any other -cracy).

I think these two definitions are the sign of something quite interesting. The United States has so much diversity in terms of how wealth is treated between individual states that crooks and thieves are able to build a kleptocracy within just one country. And the task just became easier, with a specialized team at the Justice Department investigating kleptocrats’ deals and assets now deemed unnecessary by the Trump administration. Not entirely surprisingly, the team’s investigations had irritated some of Trump’s closest advisors and allies.

A version of this story was published in this week’s Oligarchy newsletter. Sign up here.

The post Lawless in Saipan, and Trump pardons crypto bros appeared first on Coda Story.

If something was very difficult, I was taught that you just had to reframe it as a small or insignificant moment compared to the vast eternities and infinities around us. It was a Mormon community, and we were a Mormon family, part of generations of Mormons. I can trace my ancestry back to the early Mormon settlers. Our family were very observant: going to church every Sunday, and deeply faithful to the beliefs and tenets of the Mormon Church.

There's a belief in Mormonism: "As man is, God once was. As God is, man may become." And since God is perfect, the belief is that we too can one day become perfect. 

We believed in perfection. And we were striving to be perfect—realizing that while we couldn't be perfect in this life, we should always attempt to be. We worked for excellence in everything we did.

It was an inspiring idea to me, but growing up in a world where I felt perfection was always the expectation was also tough. 

In a way, I felt like there were two of me. There was this perfect person that I had to play and that everyone loved. And then there was this other part of me that was very disappointed by who I was—frustrated, knowing I wasn't living up to those same standards. I really felt like two people.

This perfectionism found its way into many of my pursuits. I loved to play the cello. Yo-Yo Ma was my idol. I played quite well and had a fabulous teacher. At 14, I became the principal cellist for our all-state orchestra, and later played in the World Youth Symphony at Interlochen Arts Camp and in a National Honors Orchestra. I was part of a group of kids who were all playing at the highest level. And I was driven. I wanted to be one of the very, very best.

I went on to study at Northwestern in Chicago and played there too. I was the youngest cellist in the studio of Hans Jensen, and was surrounded by these incredible musicians. We played eight hours a day, time filled with practice, orchestra, chamber music, studio, and lessons. I spent hours and hours working through the tiniest movements of the hand, individual shifts, weight, movement, repetition, memory, trying to find perfect intonation, rhythm, and expression. I loved that I could control things, practice, and improve. I could find moments of perfection.

I remember one night being in the practice rooms, walking down the hall, and hearing some of the most beautiful playing I'd ever heard. I peeked in and didn’t recognize the cellist. They were a former student now warming up for an audition with the Chicago Symphony. 

Later on, I heard they didn’t get it. I remember thinking, "Oh my goodness, if you can play that well and still not make it..." It kind of shattered my worldview—it really hit me that I would never be the very best. There was so much talent, and I just wasn't quite there. 

I decided to step away from the cello as a profession. I’d play for fun, but not make it my career. I’d explore other interests and passions.

There's a belief in Mormonism: "As man is, God once was. As God is, man may become."

As I moved through my twenties, my relationship with Mormonism started to become strained. When you’re suddenly 24, 25, 26 and not married, that's tough. Brigham Young [the second and longest-serving prophet of the Mormon Church] said that if you're not married by 30, you're a menace to society. It just became more and more awkward to be involved. I felt like people were wondering, “What’s wrong with him?” 

Eventually, I left the church. And I suddenly felt like a complete person — it was a really profound shift. There weren’t two of me anymore. I didn’t have to put on a front. Now that I didn’t have to worry about being that version of perfect, I could just be me. 

But the desire for perfection was impossible for me to kick entirely. I was still excited about striving, and I think a lot of this energy and focus then poured into my work and career as a designer and researcher. I worked at places like the Mayo Clinic, considered by many to be the world’s best hospital. I studied in London at the Royal College of Art, where I received my master’s on the prestigious Design Interactions course exploring emerging technology, futures, and speculative design. I found I loved working with the best, and being around others who were striving for perfection in similar ways. It was thrilling.

One of the big questions I started to explore during my master's studies in design, and I think in part because I felt this void of meaning after leaving Mormonism, was “what is important to strive for in life?” What should we be perfecting? What is the goal of everything? Or in design terms, “What’s the design intent of everything?”

I spent a huge amount of time with this question, and in the end I came to the conclusion that it’s happiness. Happiness is the goal. We should strive in life for happiness. Happiness is the design intent of everything. It is the idea that no matter what we do, no matter what activity we undertake, we do it because we believe doing it or achieving the thing will make us better off or happier. This fit really well with the beliefs I grew up with, but now I had a new, non-religious way in to explore it.

The question then became: What is happiness? I came to the conclusion that happiness is chemical—an evolved sensation that indicates when our needs in terms of survival have been met. You're happy when you have a wonderful meal because your body has evolved to identify good food as improving your chances of survival. The same is true for sleep, exercise, sex, family, friendships, meaning, purpose–everything can be seen through this evolutionary happiness lens. 

 So if happiness evolved as the signal for survival, then I wanted to optimize my survival to optimize that feeling. What would it look like if I optimized the design of my life for happiness? What could I change to feel the most amount of happiness for the longest amount of time? What would life look like if I lived perfectly with this goal in mind?

I started measuring my happiness on a daily basis, and then making changes to my life to see how I might improve it. I took my evolutionary basic needs for survival and organized them in terms of how quickly their absence would kill me as a way to prioritize interventions. 

Breathing was first on the list — we can’t last long without it. So I tried to optimize my breathing. I didn’t really know how to breathe or how powerful breathing is—how it changes the way we feel, bringing calm and peace, or energy and alertness. So I practiced breathing.

The optimizations continued, diet, sleep, exercise, material possessions, friends, family, purpose, along with a shedding of any behaviour or activity that I couldn’t see meaningfully improving my happiness. For example, I looked at clothing and fashion, and couldn’t see any real happiness impact. So I got rid of almost all of my clothing, and have worn the same white t-shirts and grey or blue jeans for the past 15 years.

I got involved in the Quantified Self (QS) movement and started tracking my heart rate, blood pressure, diet, sleep, exercise, cognitive speed, happiness, creativity, and feelings of purpose. I liked the data. I’d go to QS meet-ups and conferences with others doing self experiments to optimize different aspects of their lives, from athletic performance, to sleep, to disease symptoms.

I also started to think about longevity. If I was optimizing for happiness through these evolutionary basics, how long could one live if these needs were perfectly satisfied? I started to put on my websites – “copyright 2103”. That’s when I’ll be 125. That felt like a nice goal, and something that I imagined could be completely possible — especially if every aspect of my life was optimized, along with future advancements in science and medicine.

In 2022, some 12 years later, I came across Bryan Johnson. A successful entrepreneur, also ex-Mormon, optimizing his health and longevity through data. It was familiar. He had come to this kind of life optimization in a slightly different way and for different reasons, but I was so excited by what he was doing. I thought, "This is how I’d live if I had unlimited funds."

He said he was optimizing every organ and body system: What does our heart need? What does our brain need? What does our liver need? He was optimizing the biomarkers for each one. He said he believed in data, honesty and transparency, and following where the data led. He was open to challenging societal norms. He said he had a team of doctors, had reviewed thousands of studies to develop his protocols. He said every calorie had to fight for its life to be in his body. He suggested everything should be third-party tested. He also suggested that in our lifetime advances in medicine would allow people to live radically longer lives, or even to not die. 

These ideas all made sense to me. There was also a kind of ideal of perfect and achieving perfection that resonated with me. Early on, Bryan shared his protocols and data online. And a lot of people tried his recipes and workouts, experimenting for themselves. I did too. It also started me thinking again more broadly about how to live better, now with my wife and young family. For me this was personal, but also exciting to think about what a society might look like when we strived at scale for perfection in this way. Bryan seemed to be someone with the means and platform to push this conversation.

I think all of my experience to this point was the set up for, ultimately, my deep disappointment in Bryan Johnson and my frustrating experience as a participant in his BP5000 study.

In early 2024 there was a callout for people to participate in a study to look at how Bryan’s protocols might improve their health and wellbeing. He said he wanted to make it easier to follow his approach, and he started to put together a product line of the same supplements that he used. It was called Blueprint – and the first 5000 people to test it out would be called the Blueprint 5000, or BP5000. We would measure our biomarkers and follow his supplement regime for three months and then measure again to see its effects at a population level. I thought it would be a fun experiment, participating in real citizen science moving from n=1 to n=many. We had to apply, and there was a lot of excitement among those of us who were selected. They were a mix of people who had done a lot of self-quantification, nutritionists, athletes, and others looking to take first steps into better personal health. We each had to pay about $2,000 to participate, covering Blueprint supplements and the blood tests, and we were promised that all the data would be shared and open-sourced at the end of the study.

The study began very quickly, and there were red flags almost immediately around the administration of the study, with product delivery problems, defective product packaging, blood test problems, and confusion among participants about the protocols. There wasn’t even a way to see if participants died during the study, which felt weird for work focused on longevity. But we all kind of rolled with it. We wanted to make it work.

We took baseline measurements, weighed ourselves, measured body composition, uploaded Whoop or Apple Watch data, did blood tests covering 100s of biomarkers, and completed a number of self-reported studies on things like sexual health and mental health. I loved this type of self-measurement.

Participants connected over Discord, comparing notes, and posting about our progress. 

Right off, some effects were incredible. I had a huge amount of energy. I was bounding up the stairs, doing extra pull-ups without feeling tired. My joints felt smooth. I noticed I was feeling bulkier — I had more muscle definition as my body fat percentage started to drop.

There were also some strange effects. For instance, I noticed in a cold shower, I could feel the cold, but I didn’t feel any urgency to get out. Same with the sauna. I had weird sensations of deep focus and vibrant, vivid vision. I started having questions—was this better? Had I deadened sensitivity to pain? What exactly was happening here?

Then things went really wrong. My ears started ringing — high-pitched and constant. I developed Tinnitus. And my sleep got wrecked. I started waking up at two, three, four AM, completely wired, unable to turn off my mind. It was so bad I had to stop all of the Blueprint supplements after only a few weeks.

On the Discord channel where we were sharing our results, I saw Bryan talking positively about people having great experiences with the stack. But when I or anyone else mentioned adverse side effects, the response tended to be: “wait until the study is finished and see if there’s a statistical effect to worry about."

So positive anecdotes were fine, but when it came to negative ones, suddenly, we needed large-scale data. That really put me off. I thought the whole point was to test efficacy and safety in a data-driven way. And the side effects were not ignorable.

Many of us were trying to help each other figure out what interventions in the stack were driving different side effects, but we were never given the “1,000+ scientific studies” that Blueprint was supposedly built upon which would have had side-effect reporting. We struggled even to get a complete list of the interventions that were in the stack from the Blueprint team, with numbers evolving from 67 to 74 over the course of the study. It was impossible to tell which ingredient in which products was doing what to people.

We were told to no longer discuss side-effects in the Discord but email Support with issues. I was even kicked off the Discord at one point for “fear mongering” because I was encouraging people to share the side effects they were experiencing.

The Blueprint team were also making changes to the products mid-study, changing protein sources and allulose levels, leaving people with months’ worth of expensive essentially defective products, and surely impacting study results.

When Bryan then announced they were launching the BP10000, allowing more people to buy his products, even before the BP5000 study had finished, and without addressing all of the concerns about side effects, it suddenly became clear to me and many others that we had just been part of a launch and distribution plan for a new supplement line, not participants in a scientific study.

Bryan has not still to this day, a year later, released the full BP5000 data set to the participants as he promised to do. In fact he has ghosted participants and refuses to answer questions about the BP5000. He blocked me on X recently for bringing it up. I suspect that this is because the data is really bad, and my worries line up with reporting from the New York Times where leaked internal Blueprint data suggests many of the BP5000 participants experienced some negative side effects, with some participants even having serious drops in testosterone or becoming pre-diabetic.

I’m still angry today about how this all went down. I’m angry that I was taken in by someone I now feel was a snake oil salesman. I’m angry that the marketing needs of Bryan’s supplement business and his need to control his image overshadowed the opportunity to generate some real science. I’m angry that Blueprint may be hurting some people. I’m angry because the way Bryan Johnson has gone about this grates on my sense of perfection.

Bryan’s call to “Don’t Die” now rings in my ears as “Don’t Lie” every time I hear it. I hope the societal mechanisms for truth will be able to help him make a course correction. I hope he will release the BP5000 data set and apologize to participants. But Bryan Johnson feels to me like an unstoppable marketing force at this point — full A-list influencer status — and sort of untouchable, with no use for those of us interested in the science and data.

This experience has also had me reflecting on and asking bigger questions of the longevity movement and myself.

We’re ignoring climate breakdown. The latest indications suggest we’re headed toward three degrees of warming. These are societal collapse numbers, in the next 15 years. When there are no bees and no food, catastrophic fires and floods, your Heart Rate Variability doesn’t really matter. There’s a sort of “bunker mentality” prevalent in some of the longevity movement, and wider tech — we can just ignore it, and we’ll magically come out on the other side, sleep scores intact. 

The question then became: What is happiness? I came to the conclusion that happiness is chemical—an evolved sensation that indicates when our needs in terms of survival have been met.

I’ve also started to think that calls to live forever are perhaps misplaced, and that in fact we have evolved to die. Death is a good thing. A feature, not a bug. It allows for new life—we need children, young people, new minds who can understand this context and move us forward. I worry that older minds are locked into outdated patterns of thinking, mindsets trained in and for a world that no longer exists, thinking that destroyed everything in the first place, and which is now actually detrimental to progress. The life cycle—bringing in new generations with new thinking—is the mechanism our species has evolved to function within. Survival is and should be optimized for the species, not the individual.

I love thinking about the future. I love spending time there, understanding what it might look like. It is a huge part of my design practice. But as much as I love the future, the most exciting thing to me is the choices we make right now in each moment. All of that information from our future imaginings should come back to help inform current decision-making and optimize the choices we have now. But I don’t see this happening today. Our current actions as a society seem totally disconnected from any optimized, survivable future. We’re not learning from the future. We’re not acting for the future.

We must engage with all outcomes, positive and negative. We're seeing breakthroughs in many domains happening at an exponential rate, especially in AI. But, at the same time, I see job displacement, huge concentration of wealth, and political systems that don't seem capable of regulating or facilitating democratic conversations about these changes. Creators must own it all. If you build AI, take responsibility for the lost job, and create mechanisms to share wealth. If you build a company around longevity and make promises to people about openness and transparency, you have to engage with all the positive outcomes and negative side effects, no matter what they are.

I’m sometimes overwhelmed by our current state. My striving for perfection and optimizations throughout my life have maybe been a way to give me a sense of control in a world where at a macro scale I don’t actually have much power. We are in a moment now where a handful of individuals and companies will get to decide what’s next. A few governments might be able to influence those decisions. Influencers wield enormous power. But most of us will just be subject to and participants in all that happens. And then we’ll die.

But until then my ears are still ringing.

This article was put together based on interviews J.Paul Neeley did with Isobel Cockerell and Christopher Wylie, as part of their reporting for CAPTURED, our new audio series on how Silicon Valley’s AI prophets are choosing our future for us. You can listen now on Audible.

The post When I’m 125? appeared first on Coda Story.

It came from Christopher Wylie. He’s a data scientist and the whistleblower who cracked open the Cambridge Analytica scandal in 2018. I had just started working with him on a new investigation into AI. Chris was supposed to be meeting me, but he had found himself trapped in Dubai in a party full of Silicon Valley venture capitalists.

“I don’t know if you can hear me — I’m in the toilet at this event, and people here are talking about longevity, how to live forever, but also prepping for when people revolt and when society gets completely undermined,” he had whispered into his phone. “You have in another part of the world, a bunch of journalists talking about how to save democracy. And here, you've got a bunch of tech guys thinking about how to live past democracy and survive.”

A massive storm and a once-in-a-generation flood had paralyzed Dubai when Chris was on a layover on his way to Perugia. He couldn’t leave. And neither could the hundreds of tech guys who were there for a crypto summit. The freakish weather hadn’t stopped them partying, Chris told me over a frantic Zoom call. 

“You're wading through knee-deep water, people are screaming everywhere, and then…  What do all these bros do? They organize a party. It's like the world is collapsing outside and yet you go inside and it's billionaires and centimillionaires having a party,” he said. “Dubai right now is a microcosm of the world. The world is collapsing outside and the people are partying.”

Chris and I eventually managed to meet up. And for over a year we worked together on a podcast that asks what is really going on inside the tech world.  We looked at how the rest of us —  journalists, artists, nurses, businesses, even governments — are being captured by big tech’s ambitions for the future and how we can fight back. 

Mercy was a content moderator for Meta. She was paid around a dollar an hour for work that left her so traumatized that she couldn't sleep. And when she tried to unionize, she was laid off.

Our reporting took us around the world from the lofty hills of Twin Peaks in San Francisco to meet the people building AI models, to the informal settlements of Kenya to meet the workers training those models.

One of these people was Mercy Chimwani, who we visited in her makeshift house with no roof on the outskirts of Nairobi. There was mud beneath our feet, and above you could see the rainclouds through a gaping hole where the unfinished stairs met the sky. When it rained, Mercy told us, water ran right through the house. It’s hard to believe, but she worked for Meta. 

Mercy was a content moderator, hired by the middlemen Meta used to source employees. Her job was to watch the internet’s most horrific images and video –  training the company’s system so it can automatically filter out such content before the rest of us are exposed to it. 

She was paid around a dollar an hour for work that left her so traumatized that she couldn’t sleep. And when she and her colleagues tried to unionize, she was laid off. Mercy was part of the invisible, ignored workforce in the Global South that enables our frictionless life online for little reward. 

Of course, we went to the big houses too — where the other type of tech worker lives. The huge palaces made of glass and steel in San Francisco, where the inhabitants believe the AI they are building will one day help them live forever, and discover everything there is to know about the universe. 

In Twin Peaks, we spoke to Jeremy Nixon, the creator of AGI House San Francisco (AGI for Artificial General Intelligence). Nixon described an apparently utopian future, a place where we never have to work, where AI does everything for us, and where we can install the sum of human knowledge into our brains. “The intention is to allow every human to know everything that’s known,” he told me. 

Later that day, we went to a barbecue in Cupertino and got talking to Alan Boehme, once a chief technology officer for some of the biggest companies in the world, and now an investor in AI startups. Boehme told us how important it was, from his point of view, that tech wasn’t stymied by government regulation. “We have to be worried that people are going to over-regulate it. Europe is the worst, to be honest with you,” he said. “Let's look at how we can benefit society and how this can help lead the world as opposed to trying to hold it back.”

I asked him if regulation wasn’t part of the reason we have democratically elected governments, to ensure that all people are kept safe, that some people aren’t left behind by the pace of change? Shouldn’t the governments we elect be the ones deciding whether we regulate AI and not the people at this Cupertino barbecue?

“You sound like you're from Sweden,” Boehme responded. “I'm sorry, that's social democracy. That is not what we are here in the U. S. This country is based on a Constitution. We're not based on everybody being equal and holding people back. No, we're not in Sweden.” 

As we reported for the podcast, we came to a gradual realization – what’s being built in Silicon Valley isn’t just artificial intelligence, it’s a way of life — even a religion. And it’s a religion we might not have any choice but to join. 

In January, the Vatican released a statement in which it argued that we’re in danger of worshiping AI as God. It's an idea we'd discussed with Judy Estrin, who worked on building some of the earliest iterations of the internet. As a young researcher at Stanford in the 1970s, Estrin was building some of the very first networked connections. She is no technophobe, fearful of the future, but she is worried about the zealotry she says is taking over Silicon Valley.

What if they truly believe humans are replaceable, that traditional concepts of humanity are outdated, that a technological "god" should supersede us? These aren't just ideological positions – they're the foundations for the world being built around us.

“If you worship innovation, if you worship anything, you can't take a step back and think about guardrails,” she said about the unquestioning embrace of AI. “So we, from a leadership perspective, are very vulnerable to techno populists who come out and assert that this is the only way to make something happen.” 

The first step toward reclaiming our lost agency, as AI aims to capture every facet of our world, is simply to pay attention. I've been struck by how rarely we actually listen to what tech leaders are explicitly saying about their vision of the future. 

There's a tendency to dismiss their most extreme statements as hyperbole or marketing, but what if they're being honest? What if they truly believe humans, or at least most humans, are replaceable, that traditional concepts of humanity are outdated, that a technological "god" should supersede us? These aren't just ideological positions – they're the foundations for the world being built around us right now. 

In our series, we explore artificial intelligence as something that affects our culture, our jobs, our media and our politics. But we should also ask what tech founders and engineers are really building with AI, or what they think they’re building. Because if their vision of society does not have a place for us in it, we should be ready to reclaim our destiny – before our collective future is captured.

Our audio documentary series, CAPTURED: The Secret Behind Silicon Valley’s AI Takeover is available now on Audible. Do please tune in, and you can dig deeper into our stories and the people we met during the reporting below.

The post Captured: how Silicon Valley is building a future we never chose appeared first on Coda Story.

Together, they asked themselves — and the world – what happens when computers start to read our minds? Who owns our thoughts, anyway? This technology is being developed right now — but as of this moment, what happens to your neural data is a legal black box. So what does the fight to build protections for our brains look like? I sat down with Rafael and Jared to find out.

This conversation has been edited for length and clarity.

Q: Rafael, can you tell me how your journey into neurorights started?

Rafael: The story starts with a particular moment in my career. It happened about ten years ago while I was working in a lab at Columbia University in New York. Our research was focused on understanding how the cerebral cortex works. We were studying mice, because the mouse  brain is a good model for the human brain. And what we were trying to do was to implant images into the brains of mice so that they would behave as if they were seeing something, except they weren't seeing anything.

Q: How did that work? 

Rafael: We were trying to take control of the mouse’s visual perception. So we’d implant neurotechnology into a mouse using lasers, which would allow us to record the activity of the part of the brain responsible for vision, the visual cortex, and change the activity of those neurons. With our lasers, we could map the activity of this part of the brain and try to control it. 

These mice were looking at a screen that showed them a particular image, of black and white bars of light that have very high contrast. We used to talk, tongue-in-cheek, about playing the piano with the brain. 

We trained the mice to lick from a little spout of juice whenever they saw that image. With our new technology, we were able to decode the brain signals that correspond this image to the mouse and — we hoped — play it back to trick the mice into seeing the image again, even though it wasn’t there. 

Q: So you artificially activated particular neurons in the brain to make it think it had seen that image?

Rafael: These are little laboratory mice. We make a surgical incision and we implant in their skull a transparent chamber so that we can see their brains from above with our microscope, with our lasers. And we use our lasers to optically penetrate the brain. We use one laser to image, to map the activity of these neurons. And we use a second laser, a second wavelength, to activate these neurons again. All of this is done with a very sophisticated microscope and computer equipment. 

Q: So what happened when you tried to artificially activate the mouse’s neurons, to make it think it was looking at the picture of the black and white bars? 

Rafael: When we did that, the mouse licked from the spout of juice in exactly the same way as if he was looking at this image, except that he wasn't. We were putting that image into its brain. The behavior of the mice when we took over its visual perception was identical to when the mouse was actually seeing the real image.

Q: It must have been a huge breakthrough. 

Rafael: Yes, I remember it perfectly. It was one of the most salient days of my life. We were actually altering the behavior of the mice by playing the piano with their cortex. We were ecstatic. I was super happy in the lab, making plans.

 And then when I got home, that's when it hit me. I said, “wait, wait, wait, this means humans will be able to do the same thing to other humans.”

I felt this responsibility, like it was a double-edged sword. That night I didn't sleep, I was shocked. I talked to my wife, who works in human rights. And I decided that I should start to get involved in cleaning up the mess.

Q: What do you mean by that?

Rafael: I felt the responsibility of ensuring that these powerful methods that could decode brain activity and manipulate perception had to be regulated to ensure that they were used for the benefit of humanity.

Q: Jared, can you tell me how you came into this? 

Jared: Rafael and I met about four years ago. I'm an international human rights lawyer based in Washington and very well known globally for working in that field. I had a single hour-long conversation with Rafa when we met, and it completely transformed my view of the human rights challenges we’ll face in this century. I had no idea about neurotechnologies, where they were, or where they might be heading. Learning how far along they have come and what’s coming in just the next few years — I was blown away. I was both excited and concerned as a human rights lawyer about the implications for our common humanity.

Q: What was your reaction when you heard of the mouse experiment?

Jared: Immediately, I thought of The Matrix. He told me that what can be done in a mouse today could be done in a chimpanzee tomorrow and a human after that. I was shocked by the possibilities. While implanting images into a human brain is still far off, there’s every reason to expect it will eventually be possible.

Q: Can you talk me through some of the other implications of this technology? 

Jared :Within the next few years, we’re expected to have wearable brain-computer interfaces that can decode thought to text at 75–80 words per minute with 90 percent accuracy.

That will be an extraordinary revolution in how we interact with technology. Apple is already thinking about this—they filed a patent last year for the next-generation AirPods with built-in EEG scanners. This is undoubtedly one of the applications they are considering.

In just a few years, if you have an iPhone in your pocket and are wearing earbuds, you could think about opening a text message, dictating it, and sending it—all without touching a device. These developments are exciting. 

Rafael:  I imagine that, we'll be hybrid. And part of our processing will happen with devices that will be connected to our brains, to our nervous system. And this could enhance our perception. Our memories — you would be able to do the equivalent to a web search mentally. And that's going to change our behavior. That's going to change the way we absorb information. 

Jared: Ultimately, there's every reason to expect we’ll be able to cure chronic pain disease. It’s already being shown in labs that an implantable brain-computer interface can manage pain for people with chronic pain diseases. By turning off misfiring neurons, you can reduce the pain they feel.

But if you can turn off the neurons, you can turn on the neurons. And that would mean you'll have a wearable cap or hat that could torture a person simply by flipping a switch. In just a few years, physical torture may no longer be necessary because of brain-computer interfaces. 

And If these devices can decode your thoughts, that raises serious concerns. What will the companies behind these technologies be able to do with your thoughts? Could they be decoded against your wishes and used for purposes beyond what the devices are advertised for? Those are critical questions we need to address.

How did you start thinking about ways to build rights and guardrails around neurotechnology?

Rafael: I was inspired by the Manhattan Project, where scientists who developed nuclear technology were also involved in regulating its use. That led me to think that we should take a similar approach with neurotechnology — where the power to read and manipulate brain activity needs to be regulated. And that’s how we came up with the idea of the Neurorights Foundation.

So in 2017, I organized a meeting at Columbia University’s Morningside campus of experts from various fields to discuss the ethical and societal implications of neurotechnology. And this is where we came up with the idea of neurorights — sort of brain rights, that would protect brain rights and brain data. 

Jared:  If you look at global consumer data privacy laws, they protect things like biometric, genetic, and biological information. But neural data doesn't fall under any of these categories. Neural data is electrical and not biological, so it isn't considered biometric data.

There are few, if any, safeguards to protect users from having their neural data used for purposes beyond the intended function of the devices they’ve purchased.

So because neural data doesn't fit within existing privacy protections, it isn't covered by state privacy laws. To address this, we worked with Colorado to adopt the first-ever amendment to its Privacy Act, which defines neural data and includes it under sensitive, protected data.

Rafael: We identified five areas of concern where neurotechnology could impact human rights:

The first is the right to mental privacy – ensuring that the content of our brain activity can't be decoded without consent.

The second is the right to our own mental integrity so that no one can change a person's identity or consciousness.

The third is the right to free will – so that our behavior is determined by one's own volition, not by external influences, to prevent situations like what we did to those mice.

The fourth is the right to equal access to neural augmentation.  Technology and AI will lead to human augmentation of our mental processes, our memory, our perception, our capabilities. And we think there should be fair and equal access to neural augmentation in the future.

And the fifth neuroright is protection from bias and discrimination – safeguarding against interference in mental activity, as neurotechnology could both read and alter brain data, and change the content of people's mental activity.

Jared: The Neurorights Foundation is focused on promoting innovation in neurotechnologies while managing the risks of misuse or abuse. We see enormous potential in neurotechnologies that could transform what it means to be human. At the same time, we want to ensure that proper guardrails are in place to protect people's fundamental human rights.

The post Who owns the rights to your brain? appeared first on Coda Story.

Crypto people complained bitterly under the Biden administration that regulators were treating them unfairly, by restricting their ability to do business. Many observers pointed out that crypto people were being regulated exactly the same way as everyone else, and that the reason they were struggling was that their product only makes money if it can break the rules, but the crypto people didn’t agree and responded by spending over $119 million on political donations before the 2024 elections.

MONEY WELL SPENT

The lobbying has paid off. Victorious (and well-funded) Republicans have responded to the crypto industry with a degree of enthusiasm that is positively overwhelming. Supposedly dead under the Biden administration, crypto has been brought back to rude health. “I'm so excited for all of us,” said House Majority Whip Tom Emmer. “This has been a long road to get here. We are on the precipice of actually making this happen. And guess what? That's only the beginning.”

He said Congressmen and senators were determined to get a bill onto President Trump’s desk by August that would regulate the stablecoin industry, thus providing the kind of legal certainty that would allow these “digital dollars” to explode even more dramatically than they already have. A lot of this will be overseen by the Office for the Comptroller of the Currency, which has already moved to scrap the cautious approach of the old days (i.e. last year).

“I’m creating a bright future for banks in America to use digital assets. Financial inclusion is the civil rights issue of our generation,” Rodney Hood, Acting Comptroller of the Currency, told a side session at the conference. “I have removed the sword of Damocles that was hanging over the head of the financial services industry.”

Millions of people lack bank accounts in the United States, and they are overwhelmingly the poorest members of society. Governments have failed to do enough to make sure everyone has access to financial services. And if crypto really could help vulnerable people access banking, then I’d be all for it, but I fear – certainly on the evidence of what I saw last week – it won’t.

Perhaps the most alarming discussion was that concerning World Liberty Financial, the Trump family’s own crypto firm. Donald Trump Jr., beamed in by videolink, appeared to be seated on what looked like a white throne. He loomed over the stage like a permatanned deity in an inadequately-buttoned shirt. He explained that he’d only realised the power of crypto after his father had come out as a Republican and the family had all been cancelled. “You put that little R next to your name,” he said, explaining the need for crypto. “And I sort of realized very quickly just how much discrimination there is in the ordinary financial markets.”

The other three founders of the firm, which was created last year, all took to the stage in person. Zachary Witkoff – the son of President Trump’s special envoy tasked with helping to negotiate a ceasefire in Ukraine – spells blockchain wrong on his LinkedIn bio, and got the dress code wrong by wearing a suit and neglecting to grow a beard. Zachary Folkman, who once ran a company called ‘Date Hotter Girls’, wore a bomber jacket and facial hair, which matched the mood more precisely. Chase Herro was the most hirsute and casual of the lot, in joggers and a white baseball cap, and he explained that they would be targeting ordinary Americans, with the aim of getting them to use crypto to buy ham sandwiches from a bodega, as well as aiming to transform the cross-border payments system with their own stablecoin – USD1. 

The idea that these four nepo man-babies would be given the keys to any kind of financial institution was alarming, but the prospect of them doing so under permissive new regulations and an administration headed by one of their dads, was terrifying. “So one of our biggest goals is to kind of bring everybody back together and realize that this is a free market and, like, let the free market dictate who survives and who doesn't, and who thrives and who doesn't,” said Herro. Trump’s sons, incidentally, have also just invested heavily in a bitcoin mining company. 

WELCOME BACK, ALL IS FORGIVEN

The pace at the conference was frenetic, and every other session seemed to have Congressmen and/or senators explaining how cryptocurrencies would do their bit to make America prosperous and grand. Even three Democrats held a side session called “keeping crypto non-partisan”. No one was listening, though, partly because all the lawyers were talking to each other in the hallway but mainly because the Republican chairs of the Senate and the House banking committees were on the main stage at the same time explaining how America would remain the world’s crypto capital. 

Crypto is Trump’s project now, and no one cares what the Democrats have to say. If you want to see how much the industry has embraced the president’s talking points, check out this comically politicized advert from the blockchain company Solana, home of the $Trump memecoin. Even on X, the backlash was so fierce that Solana had to delete it.

What does this mean for the rest of the world though? American politicians seem to have decided that cryptocurrencies – and, particularly, dollar-denominated stablecoins – are good for America, that they bring business to the country, and help find customers for the Treasury’s debt. Anything that gets in the way of crypto therefore is bad for America. With great power comes great opportunity, as Peter Parker’s Uncle Ben might have said if only he’d had more donations from a pro-crypto SuperPAC.

Bo Hines, the hatchet-faced head of Trump’s council of crypto advisers, said his message to any crypto people working offshore was: “welcome home”. 

As for Tom Emmer, even the prosecution of the founders of Tornado Cash – the software that, prosecutors say, allowed criminals including North Korean hackers to hide $1 billion of stolen wealth – was governmental overreach. “We need all that innovation, all those risk takers and creators in this country, that's what is the definition of success. From that you'll get that economic growth,” Emmer said.

There is a terrible irony that cryptocurrencies – an idea much of whose popularity stemmed from the public anger sparked by the deregulation and greed that caused the great financial crisis of 2007-2008 – are becoming a new nexus for deregulation and greed. And I worry about what the backlash will bring when this too collapses. And I worry about all the bad behaviour that will be enabled before the collapse happens.

As Corey Frayer, who served in the Securities and Exchange Commission under Joe Biden, once said: “Crypto is a machine where fraud and money laundering go in one side, and political donations come out the other end.” 

A version of this story was published in this week’s Oligarchy newsletter. Sign up here.

The post A crypto government for a crypto nation appeared first on Coda Story.

This article is an adapted extract from CAPTURED, our new podcast series with Audible about the secret behind Silicon Valley’s AI Takeover. Click here to listen.  

We’re moving slowly through the traffic in the heart of the Kenyan capital, Nairobi. Gleaming office blocks have sprung up in the past few years, looming over the townhouses and shopping malls. We’re with a young man named James Oyange — but everyone who knows him calls him Mojez. He’s peering out the window of our 4x4, staring up at the high-rise building where he used to work. 

Mojez first walked into that building three years ago, as a twenty-five-year-old, thinking he would be working in a customer service role at a call center. As the car crawled along, I asked him what he would say to that young man now. He told me he’d tell his younger self something very simple:

“The world is an evil place, and nobody's coming to save you.”

It wasn't until Mojez started work that he realised what his job really required him to do. And the toll it would take.

It turned out, Mojez's job wasn't in customer service. It wasn't even in a call center. His job was to be a “Content Moderator,” working for social media giants via an outsourcing company. He had to read and watch the most hateful, violent, grotesque content released on the internet and get it taken down so the rest of us didn’t have to see it. And the experience changed the way he thought about the world. 

“You tend to look at people differently,” he said, talking about how he would go down the street and think of the people he had seen in the videos — and wonder if passersby could do the same things, behave in the same ways. “Can you be the person who, you know, defiled this baby? Or I might be sitting down with somebody who has just come from abusing their wife, you know.”

There was a time – and it wasn’t that long ago – when things like child pornography and neo-Nazi propaganda were relegated to the darkest corners of the internet. But with the rise of algorithms that can spread this kind of content to anyone who might click on it, social media companies have scrambled to amass an army of hidden workers to clean up the mess.

These workers are kept hidden for a reason. They say if slaughterhouses had glass walls, the world would stop eating meat. And if tech companies were to reveal what they make these digital workers do, day in and day out, perhaps the world would stop using their platforms.

This isn't just about “filtering content.” It's about the human infrastructure that makes our frictionless digital world possible – the workers who bear witness to humanity's darkest impulses so that the rest of us don't have to.

Mojez is fed up with being invisible. He's trying to organise a union of digital workers to fight for better treatment by the tech companies. “Development should not mean servitude,” he said. “And innovation should not mean exploitation, right?” 

We are now in the outskirts of Nairobi, where Mojez has brought us to meet his friend, Mercy Chimwani. She lives on the ground floor of the half-built house that she rents. There's mud beneath our feet, and above you can see the rain clouds through a gaping hole where the unfinished stairs meet the sky. There’s no electricity, and when it rains, water runs right through the house. Mercy shares a room with her two girls, her mother, and her sister. 

It’s hard to believe, but this informal settlement without a roof is the home of someone who used to work for Meta. 

Mercy is part of the hidden human supply chain that trains AI. She was hired by what’s called a BPO, or a Business Process Outsourcing company, a middleman that finds cheap labour for large Western corporations. Often people like Mercy don’t even know who they’re really working for. But for her, the prospect of a regular wage was a step up, though her salary – $180 a month, or about a dollar an hour – was low, even by Kenyan standards. 

She started out working for an AI company – she did not know the name – training software to be used in self-driving cars. She had to annotate what’s called a “driveable space” – drawing around stop signs and pedestrians, teaching the cars’ artificial intelligence to recognize hazards on its own. 

And then, she switched to working for a different client: Meta. 

“On the first day on the job it was hectic. Like, I was telling myself, like, I wish I didn't go for it, because the first image I got to see, it was a graphic image.” The video, Mercy told me, is imprinted on her memory forever. It was a person being stabbed to death. 

“You could see people committing suicide live. I also saw a video of a very young kid being raped live. And you are here, you have to watch this content. You have kids, you are thinking about them, and here you are at work. You have to like, deal with that content. You have to remove it from the platform. So you can imagine all that piling up within one person. How hard it is,” Mercy said. 

Silicon Valley likes to position itself as the pinnacle of innovation. But what they hide is this incredibly analogue, brute force process where armies of click workers relentlessly correct and train the models to learn. It’s the sausage factory that makes the AI sausage. Every major tech company does this – TikTok, Facebook, Google and OpenAI, the makers of ChatGPT. 

Mercy was saving to move to a house that had a proper roof. She wanted to put her daughters into a better school. So she felt she had to carry on earning her wage. And then she realised that nearly everyone she worked with was in the same situation as her. They all came from the very poorest neighborhoods in Nairobi. “I realised, like, yo, they're really taking advantage of people who are from the slums.” she said. 

After we left Mercy’s house, Mojez took us to the Kibera informal settlement. “Kibera is the largest urban slum area in Africa, and the third largest slum in the entire world,”he told us as we drove carefully through the twisting, crooked streets. There were people everywhere – kids practicing a dance routine, whole families piled onto motorbikes. There were stall holders selling vegetables and live chickens, toys and wooden furniture. Most of the houses had corrugated iron roofs and no running water indoors.

Kibera is where the model of recruiting people from the poorest areas to do tech work was really born. A San Francisco-based organization called Sama started training and hiring young people here to become digital workers for Big Tech clients including Meta and Open AI.

Sama claimed that they offered a way for young Kenyans to be a part of Silicon Valley’s success. Technology, they argued, had the potential to be a profound equalizer, to create opportunities where none existed.

Mojez has brought us into the heart of Kibera to meet his friend Felix. A few years ago Felix heard about the Sama training school - back then it was called Samasource. He heard how they were teaching people to do digital work, and that there were jobs on offer. So, like hundreds of others, Felix signed up.

“This is Africa,” he said, as we sat down in his home. “Everyone is struggling to find a job.” He nodded his head out towards the street. “If right now you go out here, uh, out of 10, seven or eight people have worked with SamaSource.” He was referring to people his age – Gen Z and young millennials – who were recruited by Sama with the promise that they would be lifted out of poverty. 

And for a while, Felix’s life was transformed. He was the main breadwinner for his family, for his mother and two kids, and at last he was earning a regular salary.

But in the end, Felix was left traumatized by the work he did. He was laid off. And now he feels used and abandoned. “There are so many promises. You’re told that your life is going to be changed, that you’re going to be given so many opportunities. But I wouldn't say it's helping anyone, it's just taking advantage of people,” he said.

When we reached out to Sama, a PR representative disputed the notion that Sama was taking advantage and cashing in on Silicon Valley’s headlong rush towards AI. 

Mental health support, the PR insisted, had been provided and the majority of Sama’s staff were happy with the conditions.“Sama,” she said, “has a 16-year track record of delivering meaningful work in Sub-Saharan Africa, lifting nearly 70,000 people out of poverty.” Sama eventually cancelled its contracts with Meta and OpenAI, and says it no longer recruits content moderators. When we spoke to Open AI, which has hired people in Kenya to train their model, they said that they believe data annotation work needed to be done humanely. The efforts of the Kenyan workers were, they said, “immensely valuable.”

You can read Sama’s and Open AI’s response to our questions in full below. Meta did not respond to our requests for comment.

Despite their defense of their record, Sama is facing legal action in Kenya. 

“I think when you give people work for a period of time and those people can't work again because their mental health is destroyed, that doesn't look like lifting people out of poverty to me,” said Mercy Mutemi, a lawyer representing more than 180 content moderators in a lawsuit against Sama and Meta. The workers say they were unfairly laid off when they tried to lobby for better conditions, and then blacklisted.

“You've used them,” Mutemi said. “They're in a very compromised mental health state, and then you've dumped them. So how did you help them?” 

As Mutemi sees it, the result of recruiting from the slum areas is that you have a workforce of disadvantaged people, who’ll be less likely to complain about conditions.

“People who've gone through hardship, people who are desperate, are less likely to make noise at the workplace because then you get to tell them, ‘I will return you to your poverty.’ What we see is again, like a new form of colonization where it's just extraction of resources, and not enough coming back in terms of value whether it's investing in people, investing in their well-being, or just paying decent salaries, investing in skill transfer and helping the economy grow. That's not happening.” 

“This is the next frontier of technology,” she added, “and you're building big tech on the backs of broken African youth.”

At the end of our week in Kenya, Mojez takes us to Karura forest, the green heart of Nairobi. It’s an oasis of calm, where birds, butterflies and monkeys live among the trees, and the rich red earth has that amazing, just-rained-on smell. He comes here to decompress, and to try to forget about all the horrific things he’s seen while working as a content moderator. 

Mojez describes the job he did as a digital worker as a loss of innocence. “It made me think about, you know, life itself, right? And that we are alone and nobody's coming to save us. So nowadays I've gone back to how my ancestors used to do their worship — how they used to give back to nature.” We're making our way towards a waterfall. “There's something about the water hitting the stones and just gliding down the river that is therapeutic.”

For Mojez, one of the most frightening things about the work he was doing was the way that it numbed him, accustomed him to horror. Watching endless videos of people being abused, beheaded, or tortured - while trying to hit performance targets every hour - made him switch off his humanity, he said.

A hundred years from now, will we remember the workers who trained humanity’s first generation of AI? Or will these 21st-century monuments to human achievement bear only the names of the people who profited from their creation?

Artificial intelligence may well go down in history as one of humanity’s greatest triumphs.  Future generations may look back at this moment as the time we truly entered the future.

And just as ancient monuments like the Colosseum endure as a lasting embodiment of the values of their age, AI will embody the values of our time too.  

So, we face a question: what legacy do we want to leave for future generations? We can't redesign systems we refuse to see. We have to acknowledge the reality of the harm we are allowing to happen.  But every story – like that of Mojez, Mercy and Felix –- is an invitation. Not to despair, but to imagine something better for all of us rather than the select few.

Christopher Wylie and Becky Lipscombe contributed reporting. Our new audio series on how Silicon Valley’s AI prophets are choosing our future for us is out now on Audible.

The post In Kenya’s slums, they’re doing our digital dirty work appeared first on Coda Story.

These seemingly eccentric obsessions with exotic animals reveal a fundamental truth about how power itself works. The zebra collection isn't merely decorative – it's emblematic of a system where the arbitrary whims of the powerful become reality, where resources that could serve many are instead directed toward personal indulgence. Orbán admires Ivanishvili's Georgian Dream party, which has steered the country away from EU integration. Trump openly praises Orbán. These men create a web of mutual admiration, exchanging not just tactics but symbols and sometimes even PR consultants – as we learned when Israeli media revealed that Benjamin Netanyahu’s advisers had orchestrated a covert campaign to counter negative discourse around Qatar. Those same advisers were also tasked with cleaning up Serbian president Aleksandar Vučić's public image.

Years ago as a BBC correspondent in Central Asia, I remember staring with bemusement at a massive golden statue in Turkmenistan of the former president, Saparmurat Niyazov, the self-styled ‘Turkmenbashi’, the ‘father of all Turkmen’. The statue rotated to always face the sun. We journalists used to dismiss it as the eccentricity of a dictator in a little-known corner of the world. These weren't mere quirks, though, but  early warning signs of an authoritarian pattern that would spread globally.

Last weekend, we gathered voices who have witnessed authoritarianism's rise across continents for our event "The Playbook." Their unanimous observation: the patterns emerging in America mirror what they've already witnessed elsewhere.

Nobel laureate Maria Ressa, who has faced multiple criminal charges and arrest warrants in the Philippines for her journalism, described her own sense of déjà vu watching events unfold in the United States. Democracy dies not in one blow but through "death by a thousand cuts"—media capture, then academic institutions, then NGOs, until the entire society bleeds out, Ressa warned.

Bill Browder, the architect of the Magnitsky Act that holds Russian leaders to account for human rights violations – which he lobbied for after his lawyer Sergei Magnitsky was murdered in Russian custody – mapped how Vladimir Putin perfected symbolic terrorization through selective targeting. He saw this pattern being repeated in the U.S.: "This attack on law firms, as an example, going after Covington & Burling, Perkins Coie, and Paul Weiss... what's the message to every law firm in America? Don't go after the government." He pointed to judges facing impeachment threats and green card holders being threatened with deportation as classic examples of the Putin playbook unfolding in America – striking fear into entire sectors through selective prosecution.

Many audience questions focused on resistance strategies, with particular frustration directed at the Democratic Party's seeming inability to mount an effective opposition. "Why are they so quiet about this?" Armando Iannucci asked, voicing a common concern about the lack of a coordinated response.

Yet Browder managed to see a bright side in America's chaotic, decentralized resistance: "The Putin model is to find the leader of the opposition and then destroy them," he noted. "But if you don't have a leader and resistance comes from everywhere, there's no way to stop it." He pointed to student-led protests in Serbia and Georgia, where grassroots movements without central leadership proved remarkably resilient.

Few know more about resistance than anti-apartheid era South African activist Kumi Naidoo, who served as head of both Greenpeace and Amnesty International. While he offered practical resistance strategies, Naidoo also emphasized something crucial: "We have demonized people who do not agree with us," he cautioned. "We cannot move forward in this moment where we find ourselves unless we consciously build bridges to the people that are not with us." This doesn't mean compromising on principles, but rather understanding the genuine concerns that drive people to support authoritarian figures.

"The worst disease in the world that we face,” Naidoo said, “is not HIV/AIDS or cancer or influenza—it's a disease we can call affluenza." This pathological obsession with wealth accumulation creates the perfect environment for would-be dictators, as ordinary people mistakenly see oligarchs not as threats to democracy but as aspirational figures. The zebra-collecting billionaire becomes someone to admire rather than fear.

Every speaker at our event expressed a haunting familiarity with America's unfolding crisis – they've all seen this movie before, even though no one, right now, can possibly predict how it ends. Iannucci, creator of “The Death of Stalin” and “Veep – so, someone who has, literally, written the script – said the current reality might put him out of the job. How do you parody something already so absurd? 

“Trump,” he said, “is a self-basting satirist in that he is his own entertainment." Still, Iannucci underscored why humor remains vital in dark times: "Dictators and autocrats hate jokes because laughter is spontaneous, and they hate the idea of a spontaneous reaction that they have no control over."

Far from mere entertainment, Iannucci argued that storytelling itself becomes essential resistance. He challenged us to move beyond speaking only to those who already agree with us: "We must tell authentic stories which are rooted in reality. And understand that to stand a chance to get through this moment we're in, we have to invest equally on the objective side as well as the subjective side."

As authoritarians build their global networks of mutual admiration, from private zoos to public policy, the countering networks of resistance become all the more crucial.

Maria Ressa's powerful assertion that "when it is a battle for facts, journalism becomes activism" particularly resonated with me. As a journalist, I've been trained in objectivity and balance. Yet we now face a moment where the foundations of free thought that my profession relies on are themselves under direct assault. This isn't about choosing political sides – it's about recognizing when factual reality itself is being deliberately undermined as a strategy of control.

I also found myself enthusiastically agreeing with Kumi Naidoo who emphasized that we must genuinely listen to those who support authoritarian figures, not to validate harmful policies but to understand the legitimate grievances that fuel support for them. From Manila to Moscow to Washington, the pattern is clear but not inevitable. The script is familiar, but we still have time to write a different ending – one where free thought and factual discourse prevail over manipulation and fear.

If you would like to become part of conversations like this one, we have news: we have just launched a brand new membership program connecting journalists, artists, thinkers and changemakers across borders. Join today to receive the recording of this event and access to future gatherings where we'll continue connecting dots others miss.

The post When autocrats buy zebras appeared first on Coda Story.

Sevastopol is the largest city on the Crimean peninsula, and was stolen from Ukraine by Putin in 2014 on the grounds that it had once belonged to Russia. “It was only when Crimea ended up as part of a different country,” Putin told the State Duma over a decade ago as justification for the annexation of Crimea, part 1 of the full-scale invasion of Ukraine in 2022, “that Russia realised that it was not simply robbed, it was plundered.” Most Western countries do not accept this logic, and have tried to punish people involved, which is why Ovsyannikov was sanctioned by the European Union, the United States, and the United Kingdom.

WESTWARD BOUND

Ovsyannikov left Crimea in 2019 for a position in Moscow, but his political career came to an abrupt end after a scandal at a regional airport. He then did that thing Russian officials do and headed to Britain. In 2023, he moved into his brother’s house in London, where his wife and children were already living and attending private school.

Private schools, however, have to be paid for, and prosecutors say that arranging those payments was tantamount to circumventing the UK’s sanctions, so he was charged along with his wife and brother, and this month they went on trial. The alleged wrongdoing is fairly small-scale, but it’s an important test case. We have a few weeks to wait for an outcome, but there are some interesting points to draw out from it already.

The first is about spelling. If you’re trying to avoid notice as a Russian (or a representative of any other nation which uses a different alphabet to ours), it’s an entry-level stratagem to play around with transliteration. It’s noticeable that in the court documents, he uses a different version of his name -- Dmitrii Ovsiannikov – to that favoured by the Kremlin in the good old days, which is a switch between two common transliteration systems. His brother, meanwhile, spells his surname Owsjanikow, which uses yet another. I’m hoping there’s a third sibling, who’s gone all pre-revolutionary with Ovsiannikoff.

The second is about his citizenship. Ovsyannikov left Russia for Turkey in August 2022, which many Russians did after Putin invaded Ukraine, though admittedly most of them had not been senior officials in the occupying administration. He then applied for a British passport, which he obtained early the next year. 

Apparently Ovsyannikov’s father was born in Bradford, in the north of England, in 1950. How did a Yorkshire lad hook up with a Soviet lady at the height of the Cold War? Did their eyes meet over a discussion of production quotas? If there are any authors of “socialist realist romance” among my readers, this could be your time to shine. Ovsyannikov himself is 48, so he must have been born in 1976 or 1977. 

The third and most important thing about his case is whether he should still have been subject to sanctions at all. The U.K. may have continued to sanction Ovsyannikov, but in 2023 he challenged his EU designation and was removed from the bloc’s sanctions list on the grounds that he was no longer in a position of power or responsibility in Russia. Some may think that’s a weak reason, but I am inclined to think sanctions lists should be adapted if people have ceased the offending behaviour. Sanctions are a foreign policy tool, not a law enforcement instrument, and if the aim of the policy has been achieved, they should be cancelled. 

There are lots of oligarchs and officials who would be willing to do quite a lot to get off the sanctions list, much of which would severely inconvenience Putin. It may feel icky, but I think our governments should be open to such deals. The point of all this is to undermine the Kremlin after all.

AND IT’S STILL ALL ABOUT THE BENJAMINS

This is not to deny that it does indeed feel icky to see sanctioned individuals try and evade those sanctions to buy Mercedes SUVs, as Ovsyannikov did. He used his brother as a proxy to buy the car. It reminded me of company owners who nominate proxies offshore to hide the real ownership structure. Since 2016, companies in the U.K. have been obliged to name a “person of significant control”. The idea of the law was to stop people hiding behind opaque shell companies to commit financial crime, but is anyone enforcing it?

Apparently not, since lawyer Dan Neidle has been able to publish a map with the location of 65,000 foreign companies that own U.K. entities, none of which are declaring who is in control of their operations. You can search on the map yourself. There are five companies in the Falkland Islands, for example, and there’s even one in American Samoa: are these remote jurisdictions making late bids to become offshore tax havens?

Just as I was thinking about the efforts of Companies House to rein in fraud, I was still thinking about the use of cash money by launderers from last week. I was reading this article, and I was struck by the claim that the US aerospace sector is due to export $125 billion this year, making it the country’s second most successful exporting industry. 

In 2023, the Bureau of Engraving and Printing produced 1,326,976,000 $100 bills. That’s not all profit, because each bill costs 9.4 cents to print, and there’s some dispute about quite how many of those go abroad, but serious estimates range from 80 percent to 70 percent. Once you’ve done the sums, you end up with profits from $100-bill exports in 2023 of somewhere between $92.8 and $106.1 billion.

We don’t have the figures for 2024 yet, but the Federal Reserve said it would be ordering between $155.8 and $160.6 billion worth of $100 bills, which would yield profits of somewhere between $109.0 and $128.4 billion. 

Look at that number again: at the top end of the range, that would nudge aerospace into third place, and establish the $100-bill-printing industry as America’s second most successful exporter. Even at the bottom end, it would be fourth, ahead of brand name pharmaceutical manufacturing ($103.3 billion), and quite a lot bigger than natural gas liquid processing ($62.9 billion). Who says the public sector can’t contribute to the economy?

Before someone writes in: yes, I know that banknotes are technically loans made to a government, rather than products sold by the government. But it’s more fun this way, so I’m going with it.

A version of this story was published in this week’s Oligarchy newsletter. Sign up here.

The post Did a Putin ally evade sanctions to pay private school fees? appeared first on Coda Story.

To set the stage for Orbán’s rise, we start with what happened in Europe after the fall of the Berlin Wall in 1989.  

The pace of political change in the early 1990s was dizzying, and the forces propelling democracy seemed unstoppable: old political barriers between East and West collapsed; free markets sprang up everywhere and democratic elections were held; a divided Germany was reunited; the Soviet Union dissolved; Europe expanded; and a new global economy seemed to be taking over the world.

These changes caused one optimistic observer to predict that democracy would be the final form of government.  But there were other forces at work, less visible at first, but leading to a very different kind of change. Some effects of the changes listed above included: international companies moving their factories out of Europe to Asia; neoliberal shock therapies cutting social spending in the new democracies of Eastern Europe; social services that had been provided by the old regimes were replaced unevenly by capitalism; corruption broke out as state assets were privatized; economic inequality grew between the new class of oligarchs benefiting from privatization and everyone else; bank bailouts and lending crises shook the financial system; then came the massive flow of refugees into Europe from wars in Afghanistan, Iraq, Syria, and North Africa. 

All this led to the rise of xenophobic politics – first in Hungary, then across Europe. It was a populist pushback against disruptive and disorienting changes.

This is when the assault on democracy began, and for seven years I was in the middle of it, in Hungary, where I was president of Central European University.  I saw first-hand how a politician like Orbán could manipulate a populist rebellion in order to take over a democracy and turn it into an authoritarian state. 

When my term ended in 2016, I returned to the U.S. – just in time for the first election of Donald Trump.  Friends joked that maybe I had carried the Hungarian anti-democracy disease back home.  

Hungary has been a laboratory for reactionary populism, years before it spread to the rest of Europe and to the U.S. The 2008 financial crisis hit Hungarians harder than most Europeans and Americans, and many began to feel no better off than they had been under communism. By 2014 a European Commission poll showed that 70% of Europeans distrusted their elected governments – up from only 25% in 2002.  In Eastern Europe people were feeling left behind by the loss of jobs, stagnating incomes, austerity programs and cuts in social welfare – all products of the economics of globalization.  

Hungarians, some have argued, have a deep-seated victim mentality – the product of centuries of invasions by Mongols, Turks, Russians, Austrians, Germans and Soviets – and Hungarian civil society was stunted by outside domination.  On top of that, the country was deeply divided between a majority rural population that spoke only Hungarian and a cosmopolitan minority who were the dominant elite.  

This set the stage for an anti-democratic politician, and in walked Viktor Orbán.

Ironically, Orbán had been a hero of the democracy movement that overthrew the old regime. He had good organizing and rhetorical skills, which he used to stimulate Hungarians’ sense of victimization. He attacked the European Union as “the new Moscow”. He railed against refugees, calling them “a threat to Christian civilization”. He campaigned on the memorable slogan, “make Hungary great again,” and he promised Hungarians that he would rescue them from migrants and foreigners and people of other races and religions. He created a new identity politics by offering the vision of a “Great Hungarian Nation” as a way to prop up a worn out and disintegrating society.  

Orbán boasted that he would build a new form of government, which he called “illiberal democracy” -- an Orwellian term he invented to justify turning his election into a weapon to attack democratic institutions. He maneuvered a narrow electoral victory into a supermajority in the parliament, and paved the way for rewriting the Hungarian Constitution:

Viktor Orbán has become an icon for anti-democratic nationalists on both sides of the Atlantic. Steve Bannon once declared that “Orbán was Trump before there was Trump.”

Orbán took over the media through government regulation, censorship, and financial pressure -- and today he controls 85% of the average Hungarian’s sources of information.  

He undermined the judiciary and the rule of law by expanding and packing the Constitutional Court, forcing independent judges to retire, cutting back the Court’s jurisdiction and drastically revising the Constitution.

He built a governing base out of a new oligarchy of corrupt businesses who benefited from noncompetitive government contracts, with funding from Europen Union grants to Hungary as a new member state.  The grants totaled nearly 30 billion euros before they were finally suspended when Hungary was held by the European Court of Justice to be violating the EU’s rule of law requirements. 

Orbán attacked Hungarian civil society -- branding organizations that received any support from the US or Europe as “foreign agents”, conducting harassment investigations of critics, and taking away the academic freedom of universities.  

I was running an international university whose mission was to revive academic freedom in Eastern Europe. During the Obama presidency, when the US promoted academic freedom, I was able to protect CEU from Orbán and expand its academic programs.  But when Donald Trump was elected in 2016, he endorsed Orbán, and Orbán took the gloves off and started attacking universities, forcing CEU out of the country and taking over others by censoring and dictating what they could teach.

Viktor Orbán has become an icon for anti-democratic nationalists on both sides of the Atlantic, and he’s had an especially large influence on Donald Trump’s MAGA movement.  Steve Bannon once declared that “Orbán was Trump before there was Trump.”  

Orbán has developed a playbook that’s now kept him in power for 15 years, and his playbook is the foundation for Trump’s Project 2025.  Here are Orbán’s rules for turning a democracy into an authoritarian state – rules that Donald Trump is now working to implement in the U.S.:     

One: take over your party and enforce internal party discipline by using political threats and intimidation to stamp out all dissent.

Two: build your base by appealing to fear and hate and branding immigrants and cultural minorities as dangers to society, and demonizing your opponents as enemies of the people.    

Three: use disinformation and lies to justify what you’re doing.

Four: use your election victory to claim a sweeping mandate -- especially if you don’t win a majority.

Five: centralize your power by destroying the civil service.  

Six: redefine the rule of law as rule by executive decree.

Seven: eliminate checks and balances and separation of powers by taking over the legislature, the courts, the media, and civil society. 

Eight: rely on your oligarchs to supervise the economy, and reward them with special access to state resources.    

Nine: ally yourself with other authoritarians like Vladimir Putin and support his effort to undermine European democracies and attack sovereign countries like Ukraine.

Ten: get the public to believe all this is necessary, and resistance is futile.

The scope of Orbán’s influence reaches across Europe.  

In Austria, a political party founded by former Nazis will be part of a new coalition government this year headed by a leader who has close ties to Russia and opposes European support for Ukraine. A similar nationalist far-right government has taken over next door in Slovakia.

Europe’s three biggest countries, Italy, France and Germany, have all swung toward the far-right, but so far they remain democracies. 

Italy has a nationalist government headed by Prime Minister Georgia Meloni, who’s followed parts of the Orbán playbook, but has been pushed toward the center and has softened her position on immigration and Ukraine.  

In France, the far-right party of Marine Le Pen won last year’s parliamentary elections, but a coalition of opposition parties, prodded by Emmanuel Macron, united to deny her party a parliamentary majority. Their resistance will be tested by new elections in June.  

In Germany the center-left government headed by Olaf Scholz fell at the end of last year. In late February, parliamentary elections took place that determined whether the far-right Alternative for Germany (AfD) party would become part of a new government.  Viktor Orbán, Elon Musk and JD Vance all endorsed the AfD before the elections, but it came in second with just under 20% of the vote, and polls show that 71% of Germans believe that the AfD is a threat to democracy because of its overt connections to the Nazi past. 

Poland, the biggest new democracy in Eastern Europe, at first adopted but is now resisting the Orbán model.  A far-right government elected in 2015 almost destroyed the independence of the Polish judiciary, but opposition parties united to defend the courts and defeated the government in 2023, replacing it with a centrist regime headed by Donald Tusk, with a strong commitment to restore Polish democracy.  

So, what lessons can be drawn from all this? 

One lesson is that populist movements are having a big impact on democracy.  They start as reactions to destabilizing events, like economic or cultural upheavals, and they demand change and democratic reform. It’s important to listen to these movements, to understand their demands, and to show how democracy can give people the ability to shape and adapt to change. Meanwhile authoritarians like Viktor Orbán may seem attractive at first but inevitably suppress people’s voices and freedom, and promote corruption and economic inequality.   

Responding to populism can be done by building coalitions for economic fairness on issues like healthcare, education, taxes and public spending.  There are historical examples of this, like the American Farmer Labor coalition that brought together urban workers, white farmers and black sharecroppers and led to the Progressive Movement and the New Deal in the 20th century.  Today there’s an urgent need for a new populist movement to attack economic inequality.

A second lesson is that defending democracy should itself be a populist cause. In the Orbán playbook the national flag is hijacked by the authoritarian leader.  The flag of a democracy must be reclaimed as a symbol of the rule of law, of a society built on human rights and freedoms and international alliances and humanitarian values. When these soft power democratic assets are destroyed, a huge void opens up -- to be filled by authoritarians like Xi Xinping and Vladimir Putin who are the ultimate political models for Viktor Orbán and Donald Trump. 

A third lesson is that the ultimate goal of an authoritarian leader is to weaponize the state against all democratic opponents. Orbán’s playbook demonizes anyone who doesn’t support the leader as an “enemy of the people.” This stigma is then enforced by targeting opponents with regulatory penalties like tax audits, educational penalties like denials of accreditation, political penalties like harassment investigations, physical penalties like withdrawing police protection, criminal penalties like prosecution. The result is a hollowed-out shell of democracy – like Orbán’s Hungary.

What about the U.S.?  The US is better situated than Hungary to resist authoritarianism.  It’s thirty times bigger and infinitely more diverse, and its diversity is the source of its economic and cultural strength. The US has an enormous and active civil society, a judiciary that remains mostly independent, a free and open if partially captured and manipulated media, and a constitution that guarantees the rights of the people to challenge and change their government.  Donald Trump won less than fifty percent of the vote in last fall’s election, and his approval rating is well below that in recent polls. 

This is not a mandate for hollowing out American democracy.  

National polls show that 70% of Americans today see democracy as a core American value.  Resistance to the assault on democracy is not only possible, it’s essential, and it can work, as shown by the growing number of successful lawsuits that have been brought against Trump’s flood of executive decrees, and the rising tide of grassroots mobilization by civil society groups across the country, who are organizing demonstrations and lobbying legislators to stand up for democracy. 

Defending democracy is a long game. For two and a half centuries Americans have fought to expand the right to vote, to achieve equal protection, to oppose intolerance and political violence, to gain freedom of speech and religion, to guarantee due process of law. These goals may now seem to be blocked by Trump, but the U.S. is not Germany in the 1930s nor Hungary in 2025, because citizens across the country are beginning to resist authoritarianism. To succeed, authoritarianism requires big government, and Americans have long been opposed to big government. 

Building resistance is hard work and sometimes may seem futile, but every small act counts and many small continuous acts can make a profound difference in resisting an authoritarian regime.  Six decades ago, in South Africa at the height of apartheid, the original Robert F. Kennedy eloquently predicted what would be achieved by resisting authoritarianism:  

“Each time a person stands up, he sends forth a tiny ripple of hope, and crossing each other from a million different centers of energy and daring those ripples build a current that can sweep down the mightiest walls of oppression.”

A version of this piece was first published in Rappler.

Image credits:
Donald Trump and Viktor Orban in the Oval Office. May 13, 2019. Washington, DC. Mark Wilson/Getty Images.
Vladimir Putin and Viktor Orban on the sidelines of the Third Belt and Road Forum in Beijing on October 17, 2023. Grigory Sisoyev/POOL/AFP via Getty Images.
Xi Jinping and Viktor Orban. Liszt Ferenc Budapest airport, Ferihegy, Hungary.May 8, 2024. Vivien Cher Benko/POOL/AFP via Getty Images.

The post The Orbán precedent appeared first on Coda Story.

A WELCOME FALL

After Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine, and subsequent public concern about kleptocratic wealth infiltrating the UK, the government pledged to improve Companies House, including by giving it powers to check information, and obliging corporate directors to provide proof of identification. These are baby steps, but they’re already having results: “the companies register shrank during the period October to December 2024, for the first time since quarterly reporting began in the period April to June 2012”.

There were 5,408,707 companies on the register at the end of 2024, which was 19,879 fewer than at the end of September. That was a decline of 0.37 percent, so not a huge deal, though that did not deter some people. “COMPANY NUMBERS CRASH IN BUDGET FALLOUT,” shrieked the tiresome rightwing blog Guido Fawkes, which attempted to claim the falling numbers were because recent tax rises were scaring entrepreneurs away from starting businesses.

There is a strange belief among supposedly pro-business people that the easier it is to create a company, the more economic growth you will get. This is true, up to a point. But after that point, companies are so easy to obtain that they’re registered for the purposes of fraud, money laundering and corruption rather than honest enterprise, which will obviously impede rather than encourage business. 

So it is good that Companies House is finally trying to keep the more obvious malefactors from hiding their identities behind what anti-money laundering expert Graham Barrow calls burner companies. “None of these companies that were got rid of,” he told me, “were contributing anything.” 

Barrow runs a compliance firm called RiskAlert247, which trawls Companies House data in the quest for fraudulent firms with a programme called “Spider Sense”, which spots signs of dodgy behaviour. A mere five-minute demonstration was enough to convince me that the number of companies registered on Companies House has a long way to fall before it starts to reflect the actual quantity of legitimate firms in the country. There are hundreds of thousands of tax-dodging and fraud-enabling vehicles still on the registry although hopefully when new powers are brought in, they too will be winnowed out.

In the meantime, if you’d like a laugh, or simply to see how bad things were before the government got round to acting, look up “JOHN SMITH 3A LIMITED” – registered address 1 Any Road, Area, Anytown, United Kingdom, ZB2 2ZZ – on Companies House, and click on the “people” tab.

ANOTHER WELCOME FALL

The value of all the euro banknotes in circulation peaked in June 2022 at €1.60 trillion, and has been trending infinitesimally downwards ever since. In January this year, it was recorded at €1.57 trillion. This is as it should be: fewer people use cash for payments, therefore people take fewer banknotes out of banks, and so there are fewer banknotes in circulation.

What’s odd, however, is that – for decades – the opposite has been happening all over the Western world. The usage of cash has been in steep decline, but demand for banknotes has remained consistently strong. Although euro printing has begun to decline, it is only a recent phenomenon. The total of euro banknotes out there is still a lot higher than the trillion euros that were in circulation a decade ago. Central bankers call it a paradox, which is their way of saying they have no idea what’s going on.

While the value of euro notes in circulation has fallen, however slightly, the value of British pounds in circulation hit £90.5 billion in the first week of March, up more than three billion from last year, which was also an all-time high. And the value of cash dollars in circulation hit an all-time high of $2.36 trillion in January, which is twice as much as there was in January 2015, and that in turn was twice the total of January 2005. 

Ruth Judson seems to be the Federal Reserve analyst tasked with trying to work out who’s using all the dollars the Bureau of Engraving and Printing keeps churning out. Her latest paper estimates that more than half of them are circulating outside the United States. 

BUT IT’S STILL ALL ABOUT THE BENJAMINS

To me, the most interesting observation Judson makes is that demand for smaller denominations is declining, so the growth is overwhelmingly coming from people wanting more and more $100 bills. My personal theory is that, as money laundering rules have become more stringent, more criminals have turned to storing and moving their wealth in cash, and they naturally prefer to do that in large denominations, because you can get more value in a smaller space. It’s the criminal economy, stupid.

But why are they choosing to use $100 bills, rather than the even more valuable €200 or €100 banknotes? That is a bit of a mystery. Or a paradox, if you will.

Considering the destruction that the White House has wreaked on U.S. anti-corruption work, I should be pleased to see the announcement of tougher anti-money laundering measures. But I’m sorry to say I’m not. The Treasury Department has decided that money service businesses along the Mexican border must now report any currency transaction over $200 in a supposed action against cartels. This is catastrophically misguided. 

At the moment, all currency transactions over $10,000 have to be reported, and that is already producing a colossal deluge of paperwork. In 2023, Fincen received almost 21 million Currency Transaction Reports. Just imagine how many they’ll get now the threshold is $200, and the policy won’t even work at stopping the cartels.

According to the U.S. government’s own figures, Mexican cartels make $19-29 billion a year. They are NOT transferring these profits back home $200 a time via corner stores in Maverick County, Texas. Obviously. Even at the lower end of the estimate, that would involve more than quarter of a million money transfers every day, or more than 37,000 from each of the counties that the Treasury Department is imposing new measures on. 

If they actually wanted to stop the cartels, they should look instead into who’s taking all those $100 bills off their hands, since by their own estimates $25 billion is smuggled across the southern border in cash each year.

A version of this story was published in this week’s Oligarchy newsletter. Sign up here.

The post It’s the criminal economy, stupid appeared first on Coda Story.

As we navigate the whiplash-inducing headlines emerging daily from Trump's Washington, I often find myself thinking of Oksana Baulina, who joined our team in 2019 to produce a documentary series about Stalin's Gulag survivors. By then, Russia's state media was actively rehabilitating Stalin's image, recasting the Soviet dictator as an "efficient manager" who had made necessary sacrifices for the motherland. We felt an urgent need to preserve the testimonies of the few remaining survivors—men and women in their eighties and nineties whose first-hand accounts could counter this historical revisionism.

It was no longer safe for me to travel to Moscow to work with Oksana on developing the project, so we met in neighboring Georgia, in Tbilisi, my hometown. She arrived dressed every bit as the fashion magazine editor she had once been at Russian Vogue before pivoting to become an opposition activist and journalist.

Over wine one evening, she described the constant cat-and-mouse game she had experienced working with Alexei Navalny's anti-corruption foundation. She talked about how Navalny's team had to constantly reinvent itself, adapting to each new restriction the Kremlin devised. When the authorities blocked their websites, they migrated to YouTube and social media. When officials raided their offices, they decentralized operations. When the government froze their bank accounts, they found alternative funding methods. The space for dissent was shrinking daily, she explained, and with each new constraint, they needed to innovate, come up with fresh tactics to continue exposing corruption in Russia and holding Putin accountable.

"The walls are closing in," she told me, "and most people don't even notice until they're trapped."

Her words have acquired an unsettling resonance as I watch the American political landscape transform. When I draw these parallels to my American friends, I often see a familiar resistance in their eyes. Some will say comparing America to authoritarian states is alarmist, that the differences between these societies are too vast. "These are apples and oranges," they'll argue. But the anatomy of repression—the methods used by the powerful to dismantle democratic institutions—remains remarkably similar across time and borders.

There's a reason why those who've lived under authoritarian systems recognize the warning signs so clearly. For Americans, this trajectory feels unimaginable – a departure from everything they know. But for people like Oksana, those who've witnessed democracy crumble, it's more like going back to the future – a painfully familiar pattern returning in new forms.

Recently, a friend in Georgia received a summons that captured the essence of life in an authoritarian state: show up to a state commission hearing and risk becoming a target, or don't show up and face jail time. A decade ago, this would have been unthinkable in Georgia, a country that once exemplified the possibilities of post-Soviet democratic transformation. But that's the thing about authoritarianism—it advances by turning the unthinkable into the inevitable.

Authoritarianism often takes a precise, technical approach to dismantling democracy. It's not always about sudden, violent takeovers. Usually, democratic backsliding is a careful process of erosion, where each small step makes the once outrageous appear normal. What makes this process particularly insidious is how it subverts democracy's own tools – elections, parliaments, courts, and media – turning them against the very systems they were designed to uphold.

Since Coda's inception, we've been tracking the changing landscape of power: the expanding geography of authoritarianism, the abuse of technology, the rise of oligarchy, and the weaponization of historical narratives. Our unique editorial approach identifies "currents" – the patterns bubbling beneath the daily headlines – allowing us to detect emerging trends before they become apparent. Through this lens, we've observed that while authoritarian regimes deploy varied tactics, three essential elements of the playbook repeat themselves with remarkable consistency across different contexts and continents.

The first move is always the manipulation of memory and nostalgia. Vladimir Putin understood this better than most. His regime didn't just recast Stalin from tyrant to "efficient manager" – it undermined organizations like Memorial that documented Soviet crimes by branding them as "foreign agents" before shutting them down entirely.

For Oksana, like many others on our team, the Gulag documentary project was deeply personal. Her family had directly experienced political repression under Soviet rule. For the Russian-language version, she chose a different title than "Generation Gulag." She called it: "The Repressions Don't End."

This same pattern is visible in the United States, where the "Make America Great Again" movement taps into a yearning for an imagined past—one in which power structures went unquestioned and concepts like racial equity didn't "complicate" the natural order. This isn't just a political slogan; it's a carefully crafted narrative that creates social conditions that make challenging the mythical past dangerous. 

We've seen this play out in Viktor Orbán's Hungary, where school textbooks have been rewritten to glorify the country's imperial past and minimize its complicity in the Holocaust. In India, where Narendra Modi's government has systematically reshaped history education to center Hindu nationalist narratives and diminish Muslim contributions. And in Florida, where educational restrictions on teaching African American studies and racial history follow the same playbook – controlling how societies understand their past to make it easier to reshape their future. 

But rewriting the past is merely the first act. The next phase is to transform this nostalgia into a weapon that redefines loyalty to the nation. Once the mythical golden age is established, questioning it becomes not just disagreement but betrayal. In Russia, this meant that anyone who questioned the revered myths about Soviet glory suddenly became suspect – a potential traitor or foreign agent.

As Oksana traveled across Russia filming interviews with Gulag survivors, many said how distraught they were to see that at the end of their lives, the narratives they thought had been discredited were gaining traction again. The perpetrators of the crimes against them – their executioners, their prison guards – were being glorified once more in state media and official histories.

It's the ultimate form of injustice, echoing what many of my Black American friends tell me they feel today as they watch decades of hard-won progress toward equity being reversed. After fighting so hard to dismantle statues of Confederate generals and slave owners, they now witness white supremacist narratives being rehabilitated and those who challenge them branded as unpatriotic.

Of course, these aren't direct comparisons. Each country follows its own path. Perhaps America's market economy will prove resilient against authoritarian capture. Perhaps its institutions will withstand the assault better than their counterparts elsewhere. Perhaps the federalized system will provide firewalls that weren't available in more centralized states.

But, thinking back to countless conversations with friends who lived through authoritarian transitions, I'm reminded of how gradually the water heats around us all. Each small capitulation, each moment of silence stems from a perfectly reasonable thought: "Surely it won't affect me personally."

Among the 35 victims of Stalin’s Gulags that Oksana interviewed was Irina Verblovskaya. It was a love story that landed Irina in jail "I never thought they would come for me," she told Oksana, her voice steady but her eyes still showing the pain of decades-old wounds. She never thought she was political enough to be noticed. 

American friends often ask me what to do, how to respond once these patterns of repression become evident. I hesitate to answer with certainty. The cases I know most intimately are cases of failure. Nearly everything my dissident parents fought for in Georgia has been reversed in my lifetime. Yet paradoxically, their fight continues to inspire – precisely because it never truly ended. In Tbilisi today, people have stood in the freezing cold for more than a hundred nights, protesting laws that mirror authoritarian Russian legislation.

After years covering wars and political crises, I've noticed that soldiers on the ground often understand which way a battle is turning before the generals do. A taxi driver frequently has a better grasp of city dynamics than the mayor. My first rule is to always listen to people in the thick of it, to pay attention to those who may be at the margins of power but who are the first to feel its effects. Our failure is rarely in lacking prophets, but in refusing to heed their warnings.

Who are America's prophets today? They're the people routinely dismissed as alarmists – constitutional scholars warning about judicial capture, civil rights leaders identifying voter suppression patterns, journalists documenting the normalization of extremist rhetoric, and immigrants who recognize repressions they became familiar with in the countries they fled. Their warnings aren't political hyperbole – they're based on rigorous research, reporting and lived experience. And just as they are the first to detect the warning signs, they're often the first people to be targeted when the final act of the play unfolds.

The last, game-winning tactic from the authoritarian playbook is the criminalization of dissent. This process begins with words – the increasing use of terms like "enemy of the state", “threat to national security”, or "treason" to describe one’s political opponents. See how these labels proliferate in the far-right media. Note how disagreement is increasingly framed as betrayal. To anyone who has lived through authoritarianism, this language isn't merely rhetoric – it's preparation. Project 2025's blueprint for reshaping the Justice Department follows this pattern – creating systems where political loyalty supersedes institutional independence. 

The mechanisms may have evolved but the fundamental approach remains unchanged. In Russia, no one embodied this three-act progression more clearly than Alexei Navalny. In 2014, he was still able to mobilize hundreds of thousands in Moscow's streets against Putin and the Kremlin’s corruption. His warnings about Russia's growing authoritarianism were largely dismissed in the West as exaggerated. Yet the noose tightened around him – first arrests, then poisoning, imprisonment, and eventually death. He posed too great a threat, and the system couldn't tolerate his existence.

That night in Tbilisi in 2019, Oksana talked a lot about what it was like to work with Navalny's team, to mobilize Russians against Putin. We argued about whether or not Navalny was racist. For all his bravery fighting corruption, Navalny had made derogatory remarks about people from Central Asia and the Caucasus, calling Georgians "rodents" that should be "exterminated." Like her, I had grown up with the Soviet collapse as the backdrop of my youth—we were the same age—but my experiences came from a Georgian movement that fought not just the Soviet system but Russian colonialism too.

Our wine-fueled argument eventually settled into a consensus that Western liberal democracy, for all its flaws, remained the best system available—the fairest and freest option we knew. It's only now that I recognize my own slight condescension toward her because she was proudly an activist. After years working in Western media, I had been almost vaccinated against the idea of being an activist myself—journalism had to be pure, objective, detached.

I was wrong. Oksana understood something I didn't yet grasp: in environments where truth itself is under assault, journalism inevitably becomes a form of resistance. For her, this wasn't theoretical—it was daily reality. The boundary I so carefully maintained was a luxury she couldn't afford, and it is now one I no longer believe in.

The Final Warning

A year later, after we filmed about 30 interviews with survivors of Stalin’s purges all across Russia, Oksana went back to show a few of them the result of our work. We have a video of Oksana visiting Olga Shirokaya, a 96-year-old Gulag survivor who had been arrested when she was 27. They sit down on Olga’s couch to watch the film, Olga's eyes widen as she sees her own story reimagined through animation. 

"I feel like I can breathe again," she tells Oksana, her voice trembling. "I didn't think in such a short piece you could so truthfully find the essence of all the things I told you."

I'm haunted by that footage now. Oksana sits there, bright and elegant, while this survivor of Stalin's terror watches her own testimony. By then, Navalny was already in prison. The full scale invasion of Ukraine  was just weeks away. Did Oksana sense what was coming? Did she know she was documenting not just Olga's past, but her own future?

When Putin launched his invasion of Ukraine in February 2022, Oksana left Russia. She went to Kyiv to report on the war for an independent Russian outlet – her final act of resistance. On March 23, almost exactly a month since the war had begun, while documenting civilian damage from Russian bombing, Oksana was killed in a Russian missile strike. She was 42.

"The Repressions Don't End" wasn't just the title she chose for the Russian version of our documentary project. It was how she understood history's patterns – patterns that would claim her own life.

We've seen this movie before across different contexts and continents. The script is familiar, the plot mostly predictable. But we don't yet know how it ends – especially in a country with America's democratic traditions, constitutional safeguards, and decentralized power structures.

And so, when friends ask me "what do we do," I tell them: Look to those who've been there before. Democracy isn't saved through grand gestures, but through thousands of small acts of courage. Through showing up, speaking up, and refusing to turn away from what is happening before our eyes. Through recognizing that the authoritarian playbook works precisely because each small tactic seems too minor to resist. 

We've seen this movie before. But we're not just a passive audience—we're also actors. And we still have the power to change the ending.

All illustrations and videos in this article are from Coda Story's Generation Gulag

The post How Democracies Die: The Script for a Three-Act Play appeared first on Coda Story.

Having spent most of my life watching Putin's Russia take shape, I recognize familiar patterns in American politics today. There is a theory, expressed only half in jest, among some who analyze Donald Trump—as he undermines traditional alliances and creates havoc within the federal government—that he must be a Russian asset. I understand what they mean. Trump consistently parrots Putin talking points, and Russian state media celebrates Trump with unusual enthusiasm. As American presidents, whether left or right, are rarely cheered in Russia, one might suspect some kind of collaboration.

But there is a simpler explanation: Trump and Putin are remarkably similar men who naturally understand each other. No conspiracy required—Trump would feel right at home in Moscow.

This isn't to suggest moral equivalence. Trump, after all, has not waged a genocidal war claiming hundreds of thousands of lives. He aspires to dictatorship but hasn't succeeded in achieving it—yet. He hasn't killed his political opponents or nationalized major companies to enrich his friends. Given America's robust institutions, he is unlikely to ever have the opportunity to do these things. In any case, he likely doesn't harbor such aims—he seems much more jovial than Putin.

Still, the parallels between them are unmistakable:

Both men emerged in the moral ambiguity that followed World War II's short-lived moral clarity. They share a worldview in which only large, feared countries deserve respect. Trump famously told Bob Woodward that “real power is… fear.” In both domestic and foreign affairs, neither operates appears to believe that promises matter or that empathy should guide decision-making. While many politicians behave similarly, few presidents so openly belittle neighboring countries and their leaders as Trump and Putin routinely do.

Both men consider loyalty—even feigned loyalty—to be the only true virtue. Trump's pardoning of the January 6 insurrectionists demonstrates his adherence to this principle. Unlike in his first term, when staffers frequently defected or expressed dissatisfaction, Trump now trades competence for loyalty in those he employs, exactly as Putin does. 

Just observe JD Vance's transformation. During Trump's first term, he was a clean-shaven intellectual on a book tour who compared Trump to Hitler. Now, he resembles a Central Asian heir to the throne and his almost comically masculine posturing mimics his boss’s style. This shapeshifting ability shouldn't surprise anyone who read Vance's memoir, “Hillbilly Elegy,” in which he described his childhood talent for adapting to different father figures. "With Steve, a midlife-crisis sufferer with an earring to prove it,” Vance wrote, “I pretended earrings were cool... With Chip, an alcoholic police officer who saw my earring as a sign of 'girlieness,' I had thick skin and loved police cars." For men like Trump and Putin, loyalty isn't optional, it's existential, and Vance has mastered the art of becoming whatever his current patron requires.

Both Putin and Trump harbor a profound distrust of democratic institutions. Trump's fixation on the "stolen election" of 2020 mirrors Putin's trauma from his failed bid to manipulate the 2005 Ukrainian election to his advantage. For both men, personal political losses were transformational. In Putin’s case, every challenge to his authority has turned him into a different, usually worse, person. 

It may seem paradoxical that a man who never faces competitive elections changes with each successive term, but it's true – and each iteration is more dangerous than the last. Trump too has changed since his last term. He may still be erratic, may still be a lying, megalomaniacal, overconfident salesman. But those of us who have seen authoritarian evolution up close recognize a fundamental transformation. Trump’s rage at institutional betrayal has calcified into conviction, into a doctrine founded on distrust. The trauma of defeat in 2020 didn't just wound Trump's ego; it convinced him to view the entire democratic apparatus as illegitimate. This shift, this hardening of his position should not be underestimated.

Another thing Trump and Putin have in common is that both believe corruption is universal. I recognize in Trump a mindset common in Russia—indeed, it's fundamental to how power operates in Moscow. Trump doesn't just call opponents "crooked” as a joke, he seems to genuinely believe that graft, and graft alone, motivates everyone. For Trump, corruption is not merely personal enrichment but is the only effective means of governance, of exerting control. This approach makes dealing with Putin convenient—negotiations are simpler when you believe everyone has a price. But I’ve seen in my country how such transactionalism ultimately backfires, creating whole new avenues of institutional corruption that involve orders of far greater magnitude than simple personal enrichment ever could. 

Apart from an intrinsic understanding of corruption, both Trump and Putin also understand, crave and deliberately create chaos. Whether through war, nuclear threats, dismantled treaties, or bureaucratic upheaval, disorder provides leverage. When Elon Musk is tasked with destroying the civil service, the goal is to make government employees more pliable for whatever comes next. The damage, of course, will extend beyond Trump's tenure—after he leaves office, American civil servants will have lost their trust in the entire American system, the whole edifice of government, and it won’t be easy to restore that faith.

And now If Trump and his all-too-loyal allies seem detached from reality, then the joke is on reality.

Many American observers now hold out hope that constitutional guardrails and democratic institutions will do their job. These observers believe checks and balances will contain Trump's excesses until the midterms or the next presidential election bring relief. They're not entirely wrong—America is certainly better positioned to withstand authoritarian creep than Russia was in Putin's early years. 

America's independent judiciary, free press, federalized power structure, and long democratic tradition provide genuine protective layers that Russia lacked. But I've also seen how institutions crumble not through frontal assault but through slow erosion, as bureaucrats, judges, and legislators become complicit through fear, ambition, or simple exhaustion. 

When I read pundits like Ezra Klein argue we shouldn't believe Trump's threats because his power is more limited than he pretends, I recognize a familiar pattern of wishful thinking. Klein suggests that since Trump lacks congressional control and broad public support, his power exists mainly in our collective imagination of it. This analysis assumes Trump operates within the traditional boundaries of American politics. But that's precisely what authoritarians never do. Those who dismiss Trump's ability to transform America make a fundamental error of perspective. They judge his capabilities by the system's rules, while he succeeds by dismantling those very rules. 

Trump has few constitutional powers, true. But autocrats rarely acquire power through constitutional means—that's precisely why they want to become autocrats: to avoid this hassle. They find cracks in the system—a corrupt judge here, a sycophantic legislator there, a couple of overworked bureaucrats willing to look the other way.

Worse, those who can most effectively prevent state capture are least equipped to recognize it. Trump isn't trying to subdue coastal liberals and activists; he’s going after unelected civil servants, military officers, and corporate stakeholders. Whatever their qualifications, these aren't people prepared for civil disobedience—that's not in their job descriptions. They advance their careers by executing orders without overthinking them, not by questioning authority. Whatever resistance they might offer has been further diminished by Musk's crusade against the "deep state."

Meanwhile, the elected officials who can resist often voluntarily surrender. Many Republican congressmen, whatever their real feelings and opinions, have meekly knelt before Trump's throne. Autocratic systems actively select for the unprincipled and obedient. Compare Trump's second administration to his first—adverse selection is already evident.

And now If Trump and his all-too-loyal allies seem detached from reality, then the joke is on reality. 

So far, Trump has twice won the most competitive elections on the planet, and Musk is officially the world's richest man, having built businesses few thought possible. JD Vance, in addition to becoming VP by 40, wrote a bestseller at 31. They all have a history of making their ideas come true. If you think the world isn't crazy enough to follow them further into the abyss, you might want to reconsider your assumptions. In my part of the world, at least, it's always been just crazy enough.

Even though nearly every statement Trump makes is false, he remains deeply true to those falsehoods. His fictions, which share so much with those invented by Putin, have given both men control of their nations’ narratives – false or not. So, when evaluating Trump's threat, consider Pascal's wager: If we spend four years on high alert over dangers that never materialize, we've endured unnecessary stress. If we relax and let his worst ambitions come to fruition, we face a potential catastrophe. The first scenario is clearly preferable.

Americans often ask how ordinary Russians can support Putin's regime. Perhaps now you're getting a clearer picture. The path from democracy to autocracy isn't marked by tanks in the streets but by the slow erosion of norms, the replacement of competence with loyalty, and the methodical exploitation of institutional vulnerabilities.

Trump has given us plenty of advance warning. Authoritarians announce their crimes long before they commit them. Even the most unprincipled men hold deep convictions and manifest character traits that rarely change. That's not advanced political theory—it's Russian History 101. The question remains, though, now that we know – what are we going to do?

The post The Shadow Puppet: A Russian’s Warning about Trump appeared first on Coda Story.

BUKELE’S BITCOIN BET

But first to El Salvador. News of the death of its bitcoin project appears to be exaggerated, with the country buying yet more of the cryptocurrency just days after agreeing a $1.4billion deal with the IMF that seeks to “confine government engagement in Bitcoin-related economic activities.” On X, El Salvador’s president, Nayib Bukele posted: “No, it’s not stopping. If it didn’t stop when the world ostracized us and most ‘bitcoiners’ abandoned us, it won’t stop now, and it won’t stop in the future.”​​

El Salvador has many problems – not least excessively high levels of debt and a sluggish economy – to which Bukele has presented Bitcoin as the answer, including by making it legal tender in 2021 and obliging merchants to accept it for payments. Under pressure from the IMF (which says Bitcoin’s “widespread adoption could threaten macroeconomic stability and raise fiscal risks”, without elaborating), the El Salvador government has cancelled those reforms. But Bukele’s latest tweets suggest he’s not given up on his plans.

I don’t think anyone outside the IMF is nostalgic for the days when the lender used to bully the countries of Central and South America. But I doubt the IMF will take Bukele’s taunting quietly, so we’ve presumably not heard the last of this.

Personally, given my interest in financial crime, I think Bitcoin is a bit of a sideshow. It’s clunky, it’s expensive to use, and it’s wildly volatile – all of which mean it’s great for speculation, but not much good as a money laundering tool. Tether, on the other hand, now that is something to keep an eye on.

TOO LITTLE TOO LATE?

“What El Salvador has achieved, thanks to President Bukele, is truly incredible and will be narrated in history books,” posted Tether’s CEO, the emollient Paolo Ardoino, after Bukele said he would keep buying bitcoin. Tether issues the world’s biggest stablecoin, which is a cryptocurrency that’s worth the same as a dollar, but doesn’t suffer from any of the restrictions imposed by the kind of squares who comply with anti-money laundering rules at banks. Tether, incidentally, relocated its headquarters to El Salvador in January, so technically Bukele’s government is responsible for regulating it (lol).

Unlike Bitcoin, Tether is cheap, easy to use and non-volatile, which is why it’s become a funding vehicle of choice for Hamas, Hezbollah, the gangsters of the Mekong region, Russian money launderers, North Korea apparently, and almost any other baddies you can mention. Also unlike Bitcoin, Tether is a centralised operation, meaning it can freeze its currency if it wants to. The fact that it so rarely did was either a mark of its commitment to financial inclusion, or a sign that it didn’t care about enabling rampant fraud. But it looks like it may be trying to clean up its act.

Because bombshell news: almost three years after the U.S. sanctioned Garantex, a Russian cryptocurrency exchange, Tether finally got around to freezing its digital wallets. Before we get too delighted about the stablecoin’s decision to cooperate (the EU having also sanctioned Garantex last month), this was the result of the US Secret Service – in cooperation with Germany and Finland – working to cripple the exchange’s infrastructure. Tether presumably had little choice but to do what it did. 

In the meantime, sophisticated obfuscatory skills have allowed Garantex to move $60 billion worth of crypto since the US imposed sanctions. Still, there will be many annoyed Russians who will now be on the lookout for an alternative exchange. “We have bad news,” as Garantex announced on Telegram, “Tether has entered the war against the Russian crypto market… Please note that all USDT held in Russian wallets is now under threat. As always, we are the first, but not the last.”

THE CRYPTOCRATS’ LAMENT

If Russians who use crypto are struggling with sanctions, American crypto investors are increasingly annoyed by the suspicion that still shrouds the industry. “None of the federal banking agencies have actually overturned any of the anti-crypto guidance,” said Caitlin Long, CEO of crypto-friendly Custodia Bank. “It is still presumed unsafe and unsound for a bank to touch a digital asset.”

Donald Trump won substantial backing from crypto folks in last year’s election, thanks to his promises to cancel what they felt was excessive regulation of their activities. “We can't live in a world where somebody starts a company that's a completely legal thing, and then they literally get sanctioned and embargoed by the United States government,” said Marc Andreessen on the Joe Rogan podcast in November. Remarkably self-pitying, considering Andreessen’s a tech billionaire,

He and his fellows complain about widespread debanking – by which they mean that banks are closing the accounts of crypto companies and/or their owners, because of concerns about money laundering – and the fact there is no appeal process against such decisions. Crypto industry leaders insist the practice is really driven by banks’ determination to smother a competing technology in the cradle, and has unfairly targeted right-wingers. Trump promised to end the practice, but in truth this is a complex issue, and Long’s comments suggest they’re losing patience with his failure to master it.

The Senate Banking Committee held a hearing on debanking last month, which featured three representatives of the crypto industry. But the witness who impressed me most was the Brookings Institution’s Aaron Klein who made it clear that the real victims of debanking are not crypto bros, but the kind of people without the money to effectively lobby President Trump.

“Approximately one in ten Black, Hispanic, and Native American households lack a bank account, about five times higher than for whites. Being unbanked is even more likely among those with a disability, with an unbanked rate above 11 percent,” said an excellent 15-page primer he submitted as evidence, which is well worth reading (it can be downloaded at the bottom of this page.)

The core of the issue is that banks face onerous regulations, worry about being fined, and therefore can’t see the value in providing accounts to clients who are more likely to cost them money than earn it. Yes, some of those clients work in crypto, but most are poor immigrants just trying to get ahead. (Check out quite how many of the FinCEN enforcement notices relate to convenience stores that cash cheques, rather than multi-billion-dollar money laundering schemes, and you’ll see what I mean.)

There is no easy fix to this, but the roots of the problem lie in the global rules against money laundering set by the Financial Action Task Force, which is currently holding a consultation on the issue. Should you have a lot of time on your hands, and an exceptionally high boredom threshold, you can read it. Perhaps you could send in an opinion too. Everyone has known about the problem for decades, and no one has ever been bothered to do anything about it before, but perhaps this time they will. Or perhaps they won’t. 

What we’re still waiting to learn is how the Trump administration intends to regulate crypto, or if it intends to regulate at all, given the investigations being dropped, last week’s crypto industry summit at the White House, and the mooted creation of a national cryptocurrency reserve.

A version of this story was published in this week’s Oligarchy newsletter. Sign up here.

The post Cryptocrats fear regulation will stymie a new crypto era appeared first on Coda Story.

For nearly a decade, our team has documented how anti-LGBT legislation and rhetoric has migrated from Russia to Central Asia to Turkey to Georgia, Brazil, and now the United States. 

Trump's speech was instantly recognizable to those who have followed this trail. He took us on a tour of its classic landmarks: presenting anti-transgender policies as "protecting women," framing gender-affirming care as "mutilation," and positioning this politicized language as a return to common sense rather than an attack on civil rights. 

But to understand how we got here, we need to look back more than a decade to when the Kremlin first deployed anti-LGBT rhetoric not as a moral stance, but as a tactical weapon.

A Russian export

In 2012, facing mounting protests over corruption, Vladimir Putin's government desperately needed to change the agenda and refocus national anger elsewhere. As our contributing editor Peter Pomerantsev later wrote: "Putin faced a mounting wave of protests focusing on bad governance and corruption among the elites. He desperately needed to change the agenda and refocus national anger elsewhere."

The opportunity came when self-declared feminist provocateurs Pussy Riot performed their "punk prayer" in Moscow's central cathedral. Putin seized the moment. Suddenly Russian state TV shifted their attention from corruption scandals to tabloid rants about witches, God, Satan, and anal sex. Europe, previously a symbol of the rule of law and transparency, was rebranded as "Gayropa."

This wasn't about deeply held religious beliefs. As Pomerantsev noted, "Putin was probably telling the truth when he told a TV interviewer he had no problem with homosexuals. His administration is said to contain several, and some key members of the media elite are themselves discreetly gay." Russia's social culture is, Pomerantsev wrote, "hedonistic and, if anything, somewhat libertine; rates for abortion, divorce and children born out of wedlock are high. Church attendance is low. The US Bible belt it certainly isn't." 

But if Putin had no personal problem with homosexuality, he saw the potential of playing to prejudice. Russia's 2013 "gay propaganda" law banning the "promotion of non-traditional sexual relations" to minors became the template. Soon, nearly identical laws appeared in former Soviet countries—first in Lithuania, then Latvia, then across Central Asia. The language was often copied verbatim, with the same vague prohibitions against "propaganda" that left room to criminalize everything from pride parades to sex education to simply mentioning that LGBT people exist.

The creation of a global axis

What began as a deliberate distraction from Putin’s failure to rein in corruption evolved into a transnational movement. Russian "family values" defenders organized international conferences, bringing together American evangelicals, European far-right politicians, and anti-LGBT activists from Africa.

Those meetings bore fruit. The most powerful connections happened through the World Congress of Families, where links between Russian Orthodox activists and American evangelical groups were forged. These meetings created pathways for rhetoric and policies to travel, often through multiple countries in other continents, before reaching the mainstream in Western democracies.

"Homosexual propaganda is the disease of a modern anti-Christian society."

When Trump spoke about banning "gender ideology," he echoed language first deployed by the Kremlin. When he announced that he had "signed an executive order to ban men from playing in women's sports," he was repeating almost word-for-word the justifications used for Russia's bans on transgender athletes.

From Russia to Brazil to America

By 2020, this Christian-inflected, homophobic, family values playbook had made it to Brazil, where President Jair Bolsonaro deployed its tactics to appeal to a wide swathe of religious conservatives. In May 2020, at the height of the COVID-19 pandemic, Bolsonaro attempted to divert attention from his mishandling of the crisis by posting on Facebook that the World Health Organization was encouraging masturbation in children as young as four.

The post was bizarre, quickly deleted, and made little sense—but it wasn't the product of some Bolsonaro fever dream. Anyone who had watched Russian state television was already familiar with the crazy conspiracy theory about WHO encouraging childhood masturbation.

It first appeared on Russian state TV channels around 2014, when Putin's traditional values crusade had really picked up momentum. The whole theory was based on a WHO document on sex education that mentioned early childhood masturbation as a normal psychosexual phenomenon that teachers should be prepared to discuss—an obscure, academic point distorted by Russian media into evidence that European children were being forced to masturbate from the age of four.

Bizarre as it was, the story had legs, repeated so often that it migrated from Russian television to the Brazilian president’s social media to Christian conservative talking points in the U.S. and Britain. 

Watching the Edges

What happens on the periphery—both geographical and narrative—eventually moves to the center. Eight years ago, we were documenting anti-LGBT legislation in Kyrgyzstan that seemed fringe, distant, and surely far removed from established democracies. Today, similar laws are being implemented in countries like Hungary, Georgia, and even the United States.

"People [who] call themselves traditionalists rise up. If you are gay, lesbian, especially transgender, you will be not only beaten, you will be killed."

Georgia, my own country, is a fascinating case study in how such rhetoric takes root. Once the most promising democracy among the former Soviet republics, Georgia has regressed. With the Kremlin-friendly Georgian Dream in power, and despite determined and vocal opposition, the ruling party pushed through a "foreign agents" law modeled directly on its Russian counterpart and “family values” legislation that targets LGBT rights, including banning Pride parades and public displays of the rainbow flag.

The pattern is unmistakable and what makes it particularly dangerous is how these policies are laundered through increasingly respectable channels. Phrases that began on Russian state TV like "gender ideology" and protecting children from "propaganda" have become mainstream Republican talking points.

Russia's Blueprint: Unleashing Violence

The consequences of this exported blueprint are devastating. It gives license to religious conservatives everywhere to act on  their prejudices and then point to them as universal. In Indonesia, for instance, which has been mulling changes to its broadcast law that single out investigative journalism and LGBT content, two young men in conservative Aceh were publicly flogged under Shariah law for gay sex. Vigilantes burst into a flat to find the men allegedly mid-embrace.   

In Russia, the gay propaganda law unleashed unprecedented violence against LGBTQ people. As Lyosha Gorshkov, a gay Russian professor who fled to the United States, told us in 2016:  "people [who] call themselves traditionalists rise up. If you are gay, lesbian, especially transgender, you will be not only beaten, but you will be killed. Government keeps targeting LGBT population because it's easiest target.”

Before fleeing Russia, Gorshkov was targeted by the Federal Security Service (the modern version of the KGB). An agent at his university called him into his office and demanded he identify communists and homosexuals. "He would follow me every single week, calling me, looking for me at the university," Gorshkov explained. When a bogus article circulated claiming Gorshkov was "promoting sodomy," he knew he had to leave.

In St. Petersburg, which became the epicenter for Russian homophobia, LGBT people faced increasing danger. Nearly nine years ago, journalist Dmitry Tsilikin was murdered in what police believed was a homophobic attack. Local politicians like Vitaly Milonov, who masterminded the city's gay propaganda law that later went national, routinely used dehumanizing language that inspired vigilante violence.

"We have to face moral dangers,” Milonov told our reporter Amy Mackinnon. Homosexual propaganda, he said, is “the disease of a modern anti-Christian society," Milonov told our reporter Amy MacKinnon.

Coming Full Circle

President Trump's speech this week represents a concerning milestone in this journey of authoritarian rhetoric. When he promised to bring "common sense" back by recognizing only two genders, he was echoing Putin from a decade earlier, though no one acknowledged the source.

Particularly troubling is how within the United States such rhetoric is becoming law. Iowa's legislature recently passed a bill to strip the state's civil rights code of protections based on gender identity—the first state to explicitly revoke such protections. Georgia's state legislature, meanwhile, passed a bill to cut off funding for gender-affirming care for minors and people held in state prisons. Georgia had already passed a bill banning transgender athletes from school sports.

These are the legislative fruits from rhetorical roots planted over a decade ago. I'll never forget the May afternoon in 2016 when I sat in Tbilisi's main concert hall, watching Josiah Trenham, an Eastern Orthodox priest from California, take the stage at the World Congress of Families conference. The hall was packed with hundreds of guests, many of them Americans who had traveled to the Georgian capital to discuss ways to "save the world from homosexuality." What still haunts me is how warmly the audience applauded Trenham’s words.

"I have witnessed my nation disgrace itself before God and men," he thundered. "My counsel to beloved Georgians is this: stand firm in your faith against the LGBT revolution. Do not give in or your cities will become like San Francisco, where there are 80,000 more dogs in the city than there are children. Tell the LGBT tolerance tyrants, this lavender mafia, these homofascists, these rainbow radicals, that they are not welcome to promote their anti-religious anti-civilizational propaganda in your nations."

Later, when I confronted Trenham, he insisted he hadn't encouraged violence, claiming instead that the people "who are for provocation and violence are the LGBTs themselves." Outside, hundreds of Georgian Orthodox activists were gathered with religious icons and signs that quoted Biblical scripture. They were free to express their hate. But when my phone rang, it was an LGBT activist calling in panic because ten of his friends had been arrested for writing "Love is equal" on a sidewalk only a few blocks away.

Cynical Kremlin propaganda coupled with genuine religious fervor had created this monster, and more monsters were being bred everywhere. The success of the Russian playbook lies in its incremental nature. First, you frame the issue as one about protecting children. Then you expand to education. Then to adults. At each step, those opposing the restrictions can be painted as ideologues who don't care about protecting the vulnerable.

Setting Trump's speech alongside those made by others, from political leaders to religious preachers, reveals that the U.S. is just the latest domino to fall. Solid family values as a contrast to the licentiousness of the decadent West  was a campaign that began in the Kremlin's halls of power as a distraction. It has now become a cornerstone of authoritarian governance worldwide.

In Tbilisi, at the World Congress of Families conference, a Polish anti-abortion activist explained: "You have to understand that in the west politicians are thinking in four-year terms... but in Russia they think more like emperors." The Kremlin’s long game has paid off.

For years, we've documented how authoritarianism travels across borders, now that story is becoming America’s story.

The post From Russia with hate appeared first on Coda Story.

The first bit to go is the last part of the phrase – “by the corrupt” – because winning elections is the easiest thing for crooks to achieve in a society with well-established institutions. It’s the other stuff that gives the crooks trouble. Once corrupt people are in government, the middle part of the phrase – “for the corrupt” – does not necessarily follow. If the institutions remain run by honest people, kleptocracy not only may not take root, but the corrupt politicians may be pushed out of office by the next election.

HOW KLEPTOCRACY TAKES ROOT

So something I’ve been keeping an eye on since Donald Trump’s inauguration is how the Securities and Exchange Commission  treats Justin Sun. In case you don’t remember him, Sun is a Chinese crypto billionaire who spent $6.2 million on a banana, then ate it.

In March 2023, the SEC charged Sun and eight celebrities (including Lindsay Lohan, which I was disappointed by, being a fan of both Mean Girls and The Parent Trap) with fraudulently promoting crypto tokens. “Sun paid celebrities with millions of social media followers to tout the unregistered offerings, while specifically directing that they not disclose their compensation,” said Gurbir Grewal, head of the SEC’s enforcement division at the time. “This is the very conduct that the federal securities laws were designed to protect against.”

Six of the celebrities agreed to pay up to settle the charges at the first opportunity, another did a few months later. But Sun was in no hurry, which may have been a sensible policy. Last week, lawyers for Sun and the SEC wrote to the Manhattan judge overseeing the case asking that it be put on hold, saying they’ll come back with a status report in two months’ time. Now, this may all be procedural and above board, but it also may not be.

By September 2024, Trump began to talk about a new crypto company he was launching called World Liberty Financial. It had the admittedly clever tagline: “Be DeFiant” (DeFi of course meaning decentralized finance, the term for digital peer-to-peer transactions). But Trump’s venture struggled to hit its fund-raising target until it found a cornerstone investor: Justin Sun, who put in $75 million.

“This guy,” said World Liberty co-founder Zak Folkman at a forum in Hong Kong last month, with a gesture towards Sun, who was sitting beside him, “saw that regardless of the outcome, this project is a monumental move forward for the entire crypto community.” It is not yet clear what if anything, besides fundraising, World Liberty actually does, but at the same event, Folkman – who once set up a company called ‘Date Hotter Girls LLC’ – said its success came despite there being “no special treatment to anybody who purchased the token."

Hmmm, about that. Now, it’s clearly not true that the Trump White House is going easy on crypto just because Sun gave Liberty Financial $75 million. The SEC has already dropped a case against Coinbase, and last summer Trump was already telling a crypto conference that “when we see the attacks on crypto, it's a part of a much larger pattern that's being carried out by the same left-wing fascists who weaponize government against any threat to their power.” 

Since his inauguration, Trump has issued an Executive Order promising to make the United States the “crypto capital of the planet.” Pausing the investigation into Sun could just be part of a general reluctance to enforce regulations or crackdown on crypto. And the cryptocurrency Sun founded was not named as part of the national crypto reserve mooted by Trump.  

But the Sun case didn’t ever really have anything to do with crypto as such anyway, and the SEC was always careful to make clear it was charging him for the way he marketed his token, not for the fact of it. “We’re neutral about the technologies at issue, we’re anything but neutral when it comes to investor protection,” said Grewal.

So, from the point of view of people who don’t want the United States to tilt further towards Rajaratnam’s definition of a kleptocracy, it would be nice if the SEC maintained its case against Sun or else made very very very very clear that any decision to drop the case was in no way connected to the fact that he gave the US president’s company a nine-figure sum. It would also be nice if the Trump White House was prepared to promise action against some of the more egregious crypto frauds, but not many people are holding their breaths.

PROTECTING THE PRIVACY OF KLEPTOCRATS

On an unrelated note, it appears that Sun also shares the Trump White House’s, er, particular approach to which kinds of free speech should actually be free. Sun, reportedly, put pressure on a crypto trade publication to take down an article critical of his stunt with the banana. Spending six million dollars on a banana should, apparently, be above reproach. 

Talking of free speech and those who believe themselves to be above reproach: the authorities in the uber wealthy Swiss town of Cologny were not cool about the idea that some journalists might stage walking tours pointing out homes bought with the proceeds of some of the more egregious bits of financial crime enabled by folks nearby.

“The residential area perched above the lake is a popular refuge for certain kleptocrats, potentates and other financial pirates,” the event’s publicity announced, before it got cancelled because the local authorities wouldn’t give permission for it to go ahead. Which is to say: the world may be changing more quickly with each passing minute, but Switzerland isn’t.

A version of this story was published in this week’s Oligarchy newsletter. Sign up here.

The post Of the corrupt, for the corrupt, by the corrupt appeared first on Coda Story.

But if things were getting uncomfortable for him in Buenos Aires, bounding onto the stage at the Conservative Political Action Conference in Maryland with a chainsaw, he seemed right at home. The chainsaw was a gift for Elon Musk, an unabashed admirer of Milei’s economic policies, his belief that government needs to essentially just get out of the way.  

In Argentina, Milei frequently cites his international clout as evidence of the appeal of his libertarian ideology. He says that Trump brought Musk into his government to replicate the role of Federico Sturzenegger, Argentina’s Minister of Deregulation and State Transformation. Whether Musk is a committed libertarian in the Milei and Sturzenegger mold is unknown. And unlike them, Musk has no electoral remit to enact his reforms. Back in September 2024, though, when DOGE had not yet taken shape, Musk posted on X that the “example” Milei was “setting with Argentina will be a helpful model for the rest of the world.”

And With DOGE fully up and running, Musk described Sturzenegger’s “Chainsaw 2.0” or “deep chainsaw” plans as “awesome.” In this plan, the national government of Argentina would, for instance, not build public housing because it’s something the private sector can do. The “lesson for other countries,” Sturzenegger says, “is that we should revisit the limits of what can be done.”

Just over a year into his government, Milei cut public spending by 30%, shut down half of the country's ministries, eliminated hundreds of laws and decrees, slashed nearly 40,000 public sector jobs, and reduced public works budgets to a bare minimum—all without major civil unrest, in the face of an opposition that remains largely paralyzed.

The shock Americans feel as they try to comprehend exactly how much power DOGE has been given, is how Argentinians felt as they watched Milei’s government—largely composed of individuals with no political experience, some without even a formal appointment—dismantle the state. 

While Milei has dramatically reduced inflation to 2.2%—no small feat in a country where inflation had crossed 200%—his cuts, alongside soaring costs, have also pushed some into poverty and his once high approval ratings are falling. 

That’s why his trip to the U.S. was important. At CPAC it’s Milei’s conservatism – last month in Davos, he railed against the “promoters of the sinister agenda of wokeism” – that counts, not the facts of his governance. Milei takes pride in his high standing within the global right wing. He is a part of what Italian prime minister Giorgia Meloni, in her own CPAC speech, called a global conservative collaboration. “When Bill Clinton and Tony Blair created a global, leftist liberal network in the 90s,” she said, “they were called ‘statesmen.’ Today when Trump, Meloni, Milei and, maybe, Modi talk, they are called a ‘threat to democracy.’ This is the left’s double standard.” It is this global prominence, Milei hopes, that will continue to propel his agenda forward in Argentina and shield him from the fallout of the crypto scandal. 

As for Milei’s effect on the U.S. – both Trump and Musk appear to be looking at him as the canary in the coalmine of radical deregulation. Just how far can governments go down the path of libertarianism? How far can they go to redefine the role of government in society?  Both approaches reflect a foundational shift in governance philosophy - from institutional processes to disruption by outsiders who view existing systems as obstacles rather than safeguards.

Milei’s first year in government offers a preview of what's unfolding in America. Musk is now taking Milei's playbook further by adding technology - developing AI tools to automate the government downsizing that Milei executed manually with his 40,000 job cuts. Both men use their credentials as disruptors to justify radical changes while dismissing criticism as establishment resistance. And both have created a mutual amplification system - Milei points to Musk's support as validation while Musk points to Argentina as proof that his approach works, despite emerging evidence to the contrary in both cases. A U.S. district judge has, at least temporarily, stopped DOGE from accessing treasury data on the grounds that such data might be “improperly disclosed.” As questions mount about DOGE’s intentions, including from its own employees, Americans should watch Argentina’s libertarian experiment closely. It could serve not as a blueprint but as a warning about what happens when bureaucratic guardrails are dismantled with chainsaws, real or metaphorical.

A version of this story was published in this week’s Coda Currents newsletter. Sign up here.

The post Musk and Milei’s chainsaw bromance appeared first on Coda Story.

OLIGARCHS CAN’T HANDLE THE TRUTH

It was partly the revelation of how gross the fallen kleptocrats’ greed had been; it was partly the realisation of how complicit Western enablers had been in the corruption of these kleptocrats; it was partly how Russia’s bought-and-paid-for proxies used blatant lies as cover for its annexation of Ukrainian territory; and it was partly the way that corruption had crushed Ukraine’s ability to respond. Ultimately, it was the combination of all four factors working together that convinced me there was nothing more important to the future of democracy than bringing illicit finance under control.

This is why it was so appalling to see the president of the United States repeating the Kremlin’s lies about Ukraine last week. Corruption of truth plus corruption of morals plus corruption of money equals the destruction of democracy.

Now I’m not going to pretend I have any influence over supporters of Donald Trump. Let's face it, not many of them read this newsletter, and if they did, they wouldn’t listen to me anyway. But it has made me think about what needs to be done in response.

The core of Putin-style politics is what he understands winning an argument to look like. When his opponents are too scared, confused, exhausted, or dead to continue, he thinks he’s won. Sometimes he has: murdering anyone who disagreed with him in Chechnya, shattering an entire city, plus driving out hundreds of thousands of people, did indeed pacify that poor, beautiful place, though it did not work so well as a strategy in Syria.

But here’s why the truth is so troubling to oligarchs, and why Trump unleashed his inner troll when Zelensky said some anodyne but true things, because, no matter how loud you shout, no matter how many people you imprison or murder, two plus two always equals four. And “if that is granted, all else follows.”

SO LET’S CONFRONT THEM WITH THE TRUTH

No matter what the trolls say, actual free speech is not just about letting your opponents say what they like, but about creating structures in which everyone can speak, everyone can be heard, and everyone can agree that the point is to arrive at the truth, not to shout louder. A marketplace of ideas, like any marketplace, can’t function without fair regulations.

And if our rulers refuse to abide by those regulations – like Trump or Putin or, in the U.K., former Prime Minister Boris Johnson – then it is everyone’s duty to call them out. So, it was great to see that Josie Stewart, a British civil servant who lost her job for exposing falsehoods told by Johnson’s government about the withdrawal from Afghanistan in 2021, won a tribunal case for wrongful dismissal.

“We can’t have a system that says stay silent, no matter what you see, and forces dedicated public servants to choose between their conscience and their career,” she said. The usual boring people will claim she was part of the deep state or “the blob,” or whatever, but actually Stewart and people like her are a crucial safeguard against corruption.

Incidentally, in Wales, parliament is debating a new law that would mean politicians could lose their seats if they deliberately lie, which is an interesting idea.

LIKE THE TRUTH ABOUT THE DAMAGE BEING DONE BY MUSK

The good folks at Accountability Lab and Humentum have continued their work to assess the effect of Elon Musk’s decision to destroy USAID (all to save the equivalent of around three and a half days’ worth of the U.S. budget deficit). They have responses from 665 recipients of aid funding, and have broken down how much those organisations will lose and what it means.

The money was spread across many areas, but the largest group affected have been organisations that provided healthcare services, followed by those working in “governance” and “anti-corruption”, with the impact potentially catastrophic even for those who didn’t rely on USAID for all of their money.

Here’s another estimate: after one week of the freeze, almost a million women lost sexual health services; after a month, that figure will hit four million. After 90 days, the supposed length of the freeze, almost 12 million women and girls will be denied life-saving care. That means, if previous trends repeat themselves. 4.2 million women will become pregnant without wanting to, of whom 8,340 will die.

Clinics were one of the few places in rural Afghanistan where women could still work, but now that’s gone. “To be honest, it was one of the worst days of my life,” a midwife in rural Afghanistan told Service95. Imagine what other days an Afghan midwife has likely lived through, and marvel that somehow Elon Musk has managed to make it worse. The knock-on effects in terms of increased misery, increased corruption, and increased terrorism are impossible to calculate, and how any of it benefits the United States is a mystery to me.

WAITING OUT SANCTIONS

While the U.K. is talking tough on sanctions, it is unclear what the Trump administration means to do about the sanctions on Russia and its oligarchs as it continues to negotiate peace. I found this UK Financial Threat Assessment nerdily fascinating. Particularly for its description of some of the mechanisms used by sanctioned Russians to evade restrictions on the movement of their money. Take this choice sentence: “Neo-Bank fails to detect that the regular deposits it receives from Global Bank into the account of Seafarer Z are made by Manager Y, which is funded by Company X, and therefore indirectly by the (sanctioned individual).” 

The British government has promised to keep oligarchs with ties to the Kremlin out of the U.K., where they once bought their most expensive toys, including mansions, newspapers and football clubs. But the oligarchs are sitting tight. For instance, superyachts are expensive toys. And Roman Abramovich hasn’t moved his 162-metre monolith for three years. Mooring fees alone cost more than $200,000 a year. If oligarchs are prepared to go to all that trouble just to keep the crews of their yachts paid, what will they do to buy weapons?

A version of this story was published in this week’s Oligarchy newsletter. Sign up here.

The post Why the future of democracy depends on controlling illicit finance appeared first on Coda Story.

Today, that solidarity has been replaced by something no one could have imagined in February, 2022: the United States has refused to back an annual resolution presented to the UN General Assembly that condemns Russian aggression and demands the removal of troops. Instead, the leader of the world's most powerful democracy now repeats the Kremlin's false narrative that Ukraine started the war.

This stunning reversal of the U.S. position represents Vladimir Putin's greatest victory - not in the battlefields of Ukraine but in a war that most of us thought ended over 30 years ago: the Cold War. 

Putin's win is no accident. For decades, he has been explicit about his ultimate goal: to return to the world of 1945, when the leaders of the U.S.S.R., U.S. and Britain sat around a table in Yalta to divide the world between them. The invasion of Ukraine three years ago was never about Ukraine - it was about reclaiming lost power and forcing the West back to the negotiating table. Putin’s success stems from the collective failure of the Western establishment, convinced of its own invincibility, to recognize his systematic dismantling of the order they claimed to defend.

It would be too simple to blame Donald Trump or any single political leader for finally giving Putin his seat at the table. This failure belongs to the entire Western establishment - including media organizations, think tanks, universities, corporations, and civil society institutions.

The values the West claimed for itself - defense of individual rights, rule of law, democratic values - were worth fighting for. But having “won” the Cold War, Western establishments grew complacent. They assumed the moral high ground was unassailable, dismissing those who warned it could be lost.

When Putin called the Soviet collapse "the greatest geopolitical catastrophe of the century," Western analysts dismissed it as rhetoric. When he told George W. Bush that Ukraine was "not a country," they treated it as diplomatic bluster. When he used his 2007 Munich speech to declare ideological war on the Western-led world order, they saw a tantrum.

Each subsequent action - from the invasion of Georgia in 2008, to the annexation of Crimea in 2014, from the downing of MH17, also in 2014, to the killing of opponents throughout Putin’s reign - was treated as an isolated incident rather than part of a carefully orchestrated strategy. When Georgian leaders warned that Ukraine would be next, the Obama administration ignored them, dispatching Secretary of State Hillary Clinton to Geneva to meet her Russian counterpart and present him with the infamous "reset" button. When Baltic and Polish leaders pleaded for increased NATO deployments and warned about the Nord Stream pipeline's security implications, they were dismissed as paranoid.

"The Western Europeans pooh-poohed and patronized us for these last 30 years," former Polish foreign minister Radosław Sikorski told Politico in 2022. "For years they were patronizing us about our attitude: 'Oh, you know, you over-nervous, over-sensitive Central Europeans are prejudiced against Russia.'"

The Lost Victory

Meanwhile, inside Russia, Putin was perfecting the playbook that would eventually transform the West itself. His ideologues, like Alexander Dugin, weren't just discussing Russia's future - they were designing a blueprint for dismantling liberal democracy from within. Dugin, and the influential Izborsky Club think tank, understood that the key to defeating Western values wasn't to challenge them head-on, but to turn their contradictions against themselves.

It wasn't that Dugin had anything particularly compelling to offer. His vision of a post-liberal world order where traditional values trump individual rights was hardly original. But when he sat down with Tucker Carlson in April last year to present Putin as the defender of traditional values against the decadent West, his message resonated with conservatives because too many Westerners felt that liberal values had become hollow promises. 

Many studies, like this from the Pew Research Center, showed that Americans were rapidly losing faith in their institutions. Rather than addressing these grievances, the Western establishment preferred to blame disinformation and foreign interference, dismissing citizens’ concerns and creating resentments that Putin proved masterful at exploiting.

Putin was also methodically building a global coalition that extended far beyond the West. While Western media focused on Russia's influence operations in Europe and America, Moscow was crafting a different narrative for the Global South. In Africa, Russian embassies bombarded newsrooms with op-eds positioning Russia as the successor to the Soviet Union's anti-colonial legacy. The message was simple but effective: Russia was fighting Western imperialism, not waging colonial war.

Engineering the West's Downfall

While Western governments spent billions setting up fact-checking initiatives and disinformation monitoring centers - always reacting, always one step behind - Putin was methodically building loose, agile networks that tapped into genuine popular anger about Western hypocrisy and double standards.

Putin's triumph lies not in offering better ideas or values - democracy, individual rights, and rule of law remain powerful ideals. His genius was in exploiting the growing gap between these principles and people's lived experiences"

The West's reactive stance allowed Putin to continuously set the agenda. The vast "counter-disinformation" industry - now effectively destroyed by Trump’s aid cuts-  focused on debunking individual claims but consistently missed the bigger picture. From RT Arabic's dominant position in Lebanon to coordinated social media campaigns across Africa, Putin crafted narratives that positioned Russia as the champion of all those who felt betrayed and marginalized by the Western-led order.

"Russia's message lands well and softly," one editor from Johannesburg told me during a gathering of African editors in Nairobi in 2022. "The challenge for our team is to objectively navigate overwhelmingly pro-Russian public sentiment." 

The success of this strategy is now undeniable. And yet, Putin offers little in return for his repudiation of the West. Democracy, individual rights, and rule of law remain powerful ideals. His genius was in exploiting the growing gap between these principles and people's lived experiences, a gap that Western establishments proved unwilling or unable to address.

This blind spot - coupled with the West’s inability to imagine losing - became the so-called free world’s greatest vulnerability. While liberal establishments were congratulating themselves on the "end of history," Putin was methodically working to rewrite its ending. While they dismissed the appeal of traditionalist values as backwards and parochial, he was building a global alliance of like-minded leaders and movements. 

Putin's victory was never inevitable. At each step, Western institutions had opportunities to recognize and counter his strategy. Instead, their conviction in their own righteousness led them to consistently underestimate both the threat and the extent of their own failures.

Today, as Russian state media hosts celebrate their triumph and Trump prepares to negotiate Ukraine's surrender, the scale of Putin's achievement is breathtaking. He has succeeded where generations of Soviet leaders failed: not just in resisting Western influence but in fundamentally transforming the West itself. 

The Cold War’s new ending is exactly as Putin scripted it. Not with the triumph of Western liberal democracy, but with its possibly fatal weakening. The Kremlin's guiding framework—where power is truth, principles are weakness, and cronyism is the only real ideology—now defines the White House as well.The question isn't how we got here - Putin told us exactly where he was taking us. The question is whether we can finally abandon our arrogant certainties long enough to understand what happened - and what comes next.

Read More

The Club That Wants Russia to Take Over the World: Our 2018 investigation revealed how the Izborsky Club, a self-described "intellectual circle" of philosophers, journalists and Orthodox priests, was working to dismantle Western liberal democracy. Read how they laid the groundwork for today's reality.

The post How the West lost the war it thought it had won appeared first on Coda Story.

Jones’ efforts began in 2017 with a YouTube channel, where he pitched himself as a “nationally recognized authority on border security and transnational crimes.” His one-man show, Tripwires and Triggers, lacked sophisticated production. Early videos featured primitive graphics, poor lighting, and awkward jump cuts. Many received fewer than 500 views. 

Then, in 2019, Jones landed a gig with Breitbart, a Trump-aligned media outlet that hired him to write about border security. Around that time, he met Lara Logan, an Emmy Award winner and former CBS correspondent who has become a darling of the MAGA-sphere. She interviewed Jones for her show, Lara Logan Has No Agenda, before being let go from Fox News after comparing Dr. Anthony Fauci, of the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, to a sadistic Nazi doctor.

Soon, the former lawman, despite his rudimentary Spanish, was being regularly featured as an expert on Mexican drug cartels on primetime Fox News programs, including Tucker Carlson’s show. In 2021, he became a correspondent for Newsmax, a once-fringe Fox rival that grew into a MAGA media powerhouse following the 2020 election. In June, a Reuters Institute study found that 8 percent of Americans—about 25 million—consulted Newsmax at least weekly. (That’s about the same number who report reading the Wall Street Journal weekly. Its online-only reach is similar to NPR’s, the same study showed.) 

As a Newsmax correspondent, Jones hasn’t always nailed the details in his reporting, often misspelling words and names. In one broadcast, his graphics misidentified Bubba Shelton—the sheriff of McMullen County—as the sheriff of “McAllen County” (McAllen is a Texas border city, not a county). In the title of a recent YouTube video, Jones misspelled Lukeville, Arizona—an unincorporated community on the international border and one of the state’s only ports of entry—as “Luthville.”

But, in MAGA-aligned media, it seems to be consistent political messaging that matters—not specifics. As a former DPS officer, Jones enjoys favorable treatment from the state police agency, including access to helicopters and police intelligence of which other journalists could only dream. He often features DPS helicopters, aircraft hangars, or personnel in movie trailer-style videos. In one video on his YouTube channel, Jones totes a large bundle of seized drugs on his shoulder, transporting the illicit goods from a DPS helicopter to a U.S. Border Patrol pickup. In another, Jones runs behind a state police officer, up and down boulders and through thick brush and creosote bushes—as if he, too, is part of the law enforcement team.

During many of his dispatches, Jones wears the same brown-and-black checkered scarf as DPS airmen, from whom he regularly receives intel: The division’s head pilot, Stacy Holland, texts Jones on a regular basis, according to records obtained by the Texas Observer. (In 2012, then-captain Holland was maneuvering an agency helicopter when a trooper shot at a speeding pickup, killing two Guatemalan migrants and injuring another, according to police video obtained for a previous Observer investigation.)

Most DPS officers decline interviews, instead directing journalists to the agency’s media office, which often ignores press inquiries. Holland, on the other hand, has a close relationship with Jones, often sending him photos and videos. The exchanges show that Jones has obtained access to a stream of intelligence, including suspicious activity reports, screenshots of a helicopter’s aerial view cameras, and photos of tracking devices from a DPS computer.

Jones calls Holland “bro” and praises him for his contributions, some of which are not public information. “I like it!” Jones replied to one photo. “Anything new from the field coming in lately? We should ramp that up again.” In text conversations, the two refer to migrants as “bodies,” as if they were corpses and not living human beings.

Referring to fellow human beings as “bodies” is not unusual for Jones. On a chilly December night—a few days before Christmas 2023—Jones filmed a scene from a 47-acre park in Eagle Pass, where local children and families played baseball and soccer before the Texas National Guard turned it into a de facto military base for Governor Greg Abbott’s multi-billion dollar, multi-agency border security initiative, Operation Lone Star. That night, the park was lined with concertina wire, its entrance was barred, and the fields were filled with hundreds of migrants, most of whom had few possessions and slept on the ground under emergency blankets. “So you got big groups of bodies that come in here about every 10 to 15 minutes,” Jones said. “Every silver blanket or bump on the ground is a body,” he added, referring to asylum-seekers. 

Jones’ access to DPS and to Operation Lone Star military activities—which serve as popular Hollywood-style backdrops for “border invasion” content creators—helped put him on the radar of Trump’s allies, including Tom Homan, who was an acting director of Immigration and Customs Enforcement in Trump’s first administration and who was recently named the president-elect’s new “border czar.”

“We can just grab ’em, pick ’em up and remove ’em out of this country.”

In July 2023, Homan founded a nonprofit called Border911, and he later named Jones vice president of the organization, which included other former state and federal law enforcement officers as team members who crisscrossed the country spreading the false narrative that criminal terrorists are invading the United States at the invitation of the Biden administration and Democrats. Border911 members also received government security contracts and speaking gigs for themselves or for companies that employed them, as revealed in a prior investigation in this series. The group argued that only Trump could save America, laying the groundwork for his reelection.

Jones’ DPS contacts were crucial in this pro-Trump messaging. In Border911 videos posted on social media channels and promoted at events, Jones and Homan sweep across the Texas borderlands in state police aircraft, set to a thunderous soundtrack fit for a thriller. “Whether you like President Trump or not, you can’t argue with his success,” Homan says in one video from March 2023, before it cuts to another scene: an airplane hangar in West Texas, where he, Jones, and DPS airmen in flight gear walk in slow motion toward a helicopter.

As of early December, other Border911 team members were being considered for key positions in the incoming Trump administration, including former Border Patrol Chief Rodney Scott, who was tapped to lead Customs and Border Protection. With Homan as incoming “border czar,” and assigned by Trump to oversee border enforcement and mass deportations, Jones is uniquely positioned to influence homeland security strategy and messaging in Texas and beyond. 

Trump and his allies have made clear that the right wing’s most extreme ideas are now on the table, from constructing deportation camps in Texas to designating Mexican drug cartels as “foreign terrorists.” Classifying cartels as terrorists has, in Jones’ own words, been one of his goals since retiring from DPS in 2016. For nearly two decades, some Texas Republican officials have tried to convince the federal government to make this decision, but they’ve always been rebuffed partly because it would spark conflict with Mexico, the United States’ closest trading partner. 

Guadalupe Correa-Cabrera, a professor at George Mason University and author of Los Zetas Inc., a book about one of Mexico’s most feared drug cartels, said she does not consider Jones to be a true border authority.“He’s unknown to me. … I don’t consider him an expert,” she told the Observer. But she considers the ideas that Jones and others have espoused, including labeling cartels as foreign terrorists, to be dangerous propaganda that could well be used to justify bombings or other incursions on Mexican soil. 

In an essay for the Observer about such proposals, she wrote: “Nobody denies that extreme levels of violence and brutality in Mexico are connected with the drug trade. Something needs to be done, but deploying U.S. troops would only escalate a costly and ineffective drug war and put many innocent lives at risk.”

In the ballroom of a San Antonio Embassy Suites last October, Daniel Korus, a dean at Del Mar College in the coastal city of Corpus Christi, introduced Jones as the keynote speaker for a South Texas regional policy conference, stating that Jones had a 25-year career in border intelligence. “Now, he educates the rest of us,” said Korus, a former high-ranking naval officer.

Jones did not correct the introduction, though most of his time in the state police was actually spent in non-intelligence roles away from the border, according to DPS records. His only recorded formal DPS training course specifically on the subject was “Intelligence Gathering/Sharing/Mapping,” according to the Texas Commission on Law Enforcement, and he took that just a few months before his retirement. 

Nonetheless, Jones promotes himself as a border intelligence expert and profits from it. With the All American Speakers Bureau, a platform for hired experts, Jones lists himself as charging $30,000 to $50,000 per speaking gig, though Korus said Jones was paid $10,000 or less for the San Antonio appearance. 

Dressed in black leather cowboy boots and a matching suit, Jones paced in front of his audience, telling tales of the borderlands and the violence between rival organized crime groups in Mexico. “What happens there is coming here, and I’m gonna show you,” he said.

On a projector screen, Jones displayed graphic videos and told stories about drug cartel members committing lurid acts of violence in Mexico: decapitations with a fillet knife, a head bashed in with a sledgehammer, and the wiping out of most of a town. 

“These people live in Texas. We have been dealing with this for many years—but you have not been told,” Jones warned, before moving to the next PowerPoint slide.

Throughout his presentation, a table full of sheriffs in cowboy hats nodded along in agreement as others in the ballroom gasped at the violent scenes. Twice, he paused to ask the audience some version of the question: “Is this a drug trafficking organization—or is this a terrorist organization?”

He told the audience what the foreign terrorist designation would accomplish: expedited investigations into bad actors that would allow police to skirt due process protections, to obtain more resources, and to freeze more organized crime organizations’ assets abroad.

“We’re gonna take this country back.”

Jones has repeated similar arguments in various venues, including a hearing of the U.S. House Homeland Security Committee, Newsmax, the Dr. Phil show, and Tucker Carlson’s former show on Fox News.

To Jones, the most important aspect of the foreign terrorist label seems to be that it could enable hastened deportations for people in any way associated with Mexican drug cartels. “You can’t be a terrorist in our country,” he told Dr. Phil last year. “We can just grab ’em, pick ’em up and remove ’em out of this country, and go after ’em anywhere in the world, and that’s what we really need to do.”

But many of his assertions about the foreign terrorist designation—a process codified in federal law and overseen by the U.S. Department of State—are incorrect, according to experts interviewed by the Observer. Some actions Jones described can already be taken by the government without the foreign terrorist label, such as freezing assets, said former State Department official Jason Blazakis. Whether a suspect is affiliated with a foreign terrorist organization or another criminal network, individuals have a right to due process, he added.

“I think he doesn’t understand how terrorism investigations work,” Blazakis said. “He’s trying to make the designation look like some kind of special panacea.”

During his speech, Jones also informed the audience that the cartels deploy a threat, “plato y plumo”—a misstatement of “plata o plomo” that changes the meaning from a menacing choice between a bribe or a bullet to a perplexing offer of a plate and a nonsense word.

Jones emphasizes different credentials depending on his audience. Sometimes he speaks as a correspondent for Newsmax, and other times as a member of Border911. In legislative settings, he often emphasizes his DPS career, such as when he advocated designating drug cartels as foreign terrorist organizations at a press conference outside the Arizona Capitol. (Representative Steve Montenegro introduced a related bill about a week later.) 

Much of Jones’ work for Newsmax relies on strategically edited footage, meant to portray the border as a frightening place and asylum-seekers as criminal invaders.

Last January, volunteers at a humanitarian camp for asylum-seekers near the border in the unincorporated community of Sasabe, Arizona, were surprised to see Jones roll up with a cameraman. As shown in footage aired by Newsmax and separate videos a volunteer provided to the Observer, Jones was accompanied by armed and masked men from Mayhem Solutions Group, a private security firm, who flanked him as he recorded his content. The Mayhem men were mostly dressed in military fatigues, and some wore hats with patches bearing the insignia of Texas DPS Intelligence and Counterterrorism—the division Jones worked in before retiring. 

The appearance of these men in Arizona puzzled the volunteers, especially when the arrivals claimed to be part of a state or federal “task force.” One volunteer, who requested anonymity for fear of retaliation, said the armed Mayhem personnel left asylum-seekers with the impression that they were police because they wore tactical vests and patches emblazoned with the word “investigator.” Those armed men said they had been hired to collect information, and they “were going around telling people that they were obligated to give them their information, implying that they were a federal agency,” the volunteer said, as previously reported in The Border Chronicle, on the day the men came to the camp. “They said multiple times that they were going to citizen’s arrest us if we tried to interfere with what they were doing, and that they would bring the U.S. forces in if we didn’t step aside.” 

Meanwhile, Jones continued to film, the volunteer said. “While these guys were intimidating people, he was talking about all ‘these illegals invading the country.’” 

When volunteers asked Jones about his armed companions, he provided little information. “I’m with Newsmax,” the volunteer recalled him saying. “You guys are doing your thing. We’re doing ours.” 

The Observer reached the founder of Mayhem Solutions Group, but he claimed he did not know Jones. A state contract database and public records requests show that Mayhem Solutions Group has never held a contract with Texas DPS. The agency did not respond to a request for comment about the security company employees wearing DPS insignia on their hats. The federal Department of Homeland Security stated it held no formal agreement with the company. 

In some settings, Jones introduces himself as CEO of Omni Intelligence, which he founded in 2017. The company has been described by the right-wing Texas Public Policy Foundation as a provider of “intelligence and analytics services to government agencies and media.” Omni Intelligence has no website, and its business address has alternated between rental homes and P.O. boxes across Central Texas. (Letters sent to two of his business addresses were returned as undeliverable.)

A search of public records revealed one Omni customer: No Greater Love, a nonprofit based in Wimberley that says it educates “millions of Americans daily about the truth of open borders” and holds occasional teach-ins for doomsday preppers at a local Veterans of Foreign Wars post. Over a two-year period, the group paid Omni Intelligence $45,000, according to its IRS Form 990 tax filings. Its website heavily features Jones’ video content. 

It is unclear if Omni has any employees, aside from Jones’ personal assistant, who lives in the Philippines. 

One of the firm’s former unpaid consultants was Ammon Blair, a recently retired Border Patrol agent. Blair was also featured in one of Jones’ YouTube videos and on Newsmax. While still at Border Patrol, Blair said he passed intelligence to Jones, and one of those stories went “viral.” 

Jones did not respond to repeated requests, via email, letter, and phone for an interview for this story. He also denied a request made in person at the San Antonio conference, saying he was unavailable that day and for the following several weeks, but that he might have time later. Jones never replied to the Observer’s subsequent inquiries.

Last April, Jones appeared with Homan and Trump at the now-president-elect’s Mar-a-Lago Club during a fundraising gala for Border911. As Homan’s sidekick, Jones has identified allies among sheriffs at the border and beyond, as well as other county and state officials who could support and potentially financially benefit from Trump’s mass deportation plans. 

In Arizona, Jones describes Pinal County Sheriff (and failed U.S. Senate candidate) Mark Lamb as a “close friend,” and Jones once embedded with Lamb’s agency for a week. Jones also moderated a panel including Lamb and Mark Dannels, a right-wing border sheriff who has referred to deporting undocumented people as a “cleanup.” In Texas, Jones spoke at a rally with Kinney County Sheriff Brad Coe, whose department has collaborated with vigilante groups, stocked up on pepperball guns to shoot migrants, and sued the Biden administration over immigration policy. 

In Florida, Jones found another powerful ally: Richard Mantei, a state prosecutor who helped lead a year-and-a-half-long grand jury investigation, a non-criminal probe of policies to address illegal immigration. Records show Mantei sent Jones money via Venmo for “Florida expenses” last fall. (The Florida Attorney General’s Office said it lacked records of any related invoice or receipt, and it refused to release any affidavits or grand jury testimony records signed by Jones.) When the same grand jury completed its final policy recommendations, Mantei emailed the document to Homan.

In some video clips, Jones appears as Homan’s right-hand man. Homan often heralds Jones as a premier border expert because of his DPS experience. At a January 2023 press conference outside the Arizona Capitol, Homan introduced Jones as a good friend and a top authority on crime and the drug trade, after citing Jones’ DPS career.

“I’m gonna walk around the country with these men here in this organization,” says Homan in one of Border911’s signature trailers from March 2023, over footage of himself, Jones, and DPS airmen near an agency helicopter, “and educate American people on why the border is a disaster.”

At times Jones appears to have also coached DPS airmen on how—and when—to take videos so he could better use the footage. “Hey, being advised you may have up to 2,000 surging the border in El Paso bro,” Jones wrote to Holland, the chief DPS pilot, in March 2023. “Can you get some video from helicopter ASAP?” In iMessages to Holland in February 2024, he praised state police for the videos they provided. One reads: “Tell the crew great job for me. Best field production of all time.”

In a September 2023 message, Jones invited DPS to steer the narrative he portrays on Newsmax. “I’ll run it Monday,” he replied to a message from Holland. “Anything you want me to say specifically?” 

Holland and his airmen have apparently returned the favor for Jones’ flattering coverage by furnishing him with the backdrops for his propaganda videos. In one January 2024 clip, Jones and Homan walk perfectly framed between two DPS aircraft on a tarmac at sunset in West Texas, with mountains in the background.

“You know Tom, this border, it’s gotta get fixed. It’s absolutely unsustainable,” Jones says solemnly, walking beside Homan with the sunset as a backdrop, the sky painted in hues of blue and purple.

Homan responds matter-of-factly: He wakes up every morning pissed off, but at least they’ve got Border911. “We’re gonna take this country back, we’re gonna secure the border, we’re gonna protect our national security,” Homan says. 

“We’re not going to get rich doing it,” he adds, not mentioning how Jones and other members of Border911 have already benefited from various government contracts and speaking gigs.

“But what a team we built.”

The post The Border Propagandist appeared first on Coda Story.

Their plan was to hire a “medium sized” private jet, obtain a few shrink-wrapped pallets of banknotes, then get a friend who had been in the US Special Forces to fly them to the Democratic Republic of Congo and pick up 150-200 kilograms of gold. This would then be flown to Dubai, refined, and sold on. He was determined to keep things simple, so wouldn’t be using diplomatic immunity this time, just quickly in and out, and there’d be a few hundred thousand dollars in profit for everyone, including himself and his interlocutor, who was called Martin.

CONFLICT GOLD 

Rwandan-backed M23 rebels continue to advance in mineral-rich eastern Congo. Control of the DRC’s mines is one of the major prizes in the region. Gold is Rwanda’s biggest export, despite it having few if any mines of its own. Westerners’ willingness, for whatever reason, to buy these minerals are thus a major reason the war continues. The man on the train for example.

I did wonder for a while if the whole experience was an elaborate joke. I write about financial crime for a living and I was on my way back from a conference on that same topic. It seemed too much of a coincidence that someone would be discussing an extremely crude example of that very phenomenon two metres away from me. But the longer he went on – and he went on for a good half-hour – the more I came to understand he was just a real prick.

So-called “conflict gold” has been sanctioned by all major Western countries, and my fellow-passenger appeared aware that his trade was risky – “loose lips sink ships, Martin, let’s keep this to a tight circle” – but not sufficiently so that he didn’t broadcast his intent to an entire train carriage.

What was interesting though was the one thing he was afraid of, and the reason he wanted $10,000 from Martin – the risk of Donald Trump putting sanctions on gold while his jet was in the air, since that could upend the market and wipe out their profits.

The U.S. government’s decisions affect everyone on earth, even when they seem technical and unimportant. This is why Trump’s decision to smash the US government’s anti-corruption efforts will ripple outwards, causing misery and distress in places like Eastern Congo. 

WHY ANTI-CORRUPTION POLICIES MATTER 

Here’s an interesting new paper that shows that, if a country is targeted by US prosecutors investigating offences under the Foreign Corrupt Practices Act (which Trump ended enforcement of last week), the country’s leaders respond by burying their wealth more deeply behind further layers of shell companies. 

“When the United States investigates corruption in a foreign jurisdiction, we find that elites from that jurisdiction quickly and substantively move their money abroad. Using data on 275,000 offshore incorporations, we illustrate that flows are directed to tax havens that have uncooperative relationships with the US,” academics Lorenzo Crippa and Nikhil Kalyanpur concluded.

This may make it look like investigations are a waste of time. If the result of prosecutors’ actions is that criminals not only keep their money but also make it harder to find, then why bother? In fact, the opposite is true: this is a sign that the FCPA is doing its job. No one thinks that stopping corruption and money laundering is possible, unless we can somehow re-engineer humans so we’re not greedy. The aim of legislation is not to stop these practices, but to make them expensive and perhaps not worth the trouble. 

If a kleptocrat has to set up new shell companies, in inconvenient jurisdictions, as a result of prosecutors’ actions, that costs the kleptocrat money and – on the margin – makes some crimes unprofitable. So, Donald Trump is wrong to say the FCPA has been holding back U.S. companies. On the contrary, it has been helping companies by forcing officials to think before demanding bribes. 

Of course, criminals learn to adapt to enforcement efforts. Here’s a fun example from British lawyer Dan Neidle’s Tax Policy Associates, showing how efforts to bring transparency and verification to the UK’s corporate registry is forcing criminals to recruit proxies via Facebook to put their names on the necessary documentation. Upcoming reforms in March that will oblige people to present proof of identity when filing corporate documents will likely lead to an exponential growth in the recruitment of such proxies. 

The ability of criminals to keep finding a way around the law may make it look like the regulations are a failure. But actually the way criminals are having to hide behind ever-more complex screens is a sign of success here too. The transparency of the U.K.’s Companies House, which can be searched for free, allows sleuths like Richard Smith or Graham Barrow to spot what criminals are up to, and force them to engage in ever-more elaborate and expensive forms of deception. 

Sadly, progress on the Corporate Transparency Act, which would start the United States down the road towards an open register has been halted by yet another federal judge in Texas. Back in December, a court in Texas issued a nationwide injunction against the enforcement of the CTA. The U.S. Supreme Court stayed the injunction. 

But now another injunction has been granted, this time in response to two people called Samantha Smith and Robert Means who own property through companies. “Plaintiffs  will  be  irreparably  harmed  if  they  are  forced  to  comply  with  the  new  law,” the Texas court’s ruling said. 

It's not entirely clear what irreparable harm the law would cause them, though it is ironic that a court case they brought to stop anyone knowing they owned their companies – Sage Rental Properties LLC, and Oak Alley LLC, respectively – means that now everyone does. 

While anti-corruption is stalled in the U.S., the European Union is hurtling towards a bright future when its long-promised Anti-Money Laundering Agency will actually do something. Well, maybe not “hurtling”.  

After a year or two of discussion about where the new agency would be based, the choice of Frankfurt was made, as everyone knew it would from the very beginning. In January, AMLA gained a chairperson. And an office will, presumably, open at some point in the next few months. AMLA’s now going to consult on some “implementing rules” and should choose which entities it will supervise at some point in the next two years or so, before becoming fully operational in 2028. Tremble, criminals, the EU is coming towards you. Very, very slowly.

A version of this story was published in this week’s Oligarchy newsletter. Sign up here.

The post Trump’s gift to kleptocrats appeared first on Coda Story.

Trump had said that by his deadline Israel should demand the return of all 76 of the remaining Israeli hostages (including the remains of the 35 or so believed to be dead), or "let hell break out". Hamas had earlier threatened to call off the scheduled release of another three hostages unless the Israelis lifted the curbs it said they had imposed on the flow of aid into the battered enclave, especially shelter items. 

Egyptian and Qatari mediators ironed out the problem, as they had done with previous hitches. But, in the meanwhile, Benjamin Netanyahu's far right government took up the baton Trump had handed to it. In preparation to unleash hell, if "our hostages" were not freed by the deadline, Israel massed troops in and around Gaza. It was left unclear whether Israel was demanding the release of all 76 hostages, or just the 17 due to be freed over the current 42-day first phase of the Gaza agreement, or just the three originally meant to be freed on that Saturday in line with the accord.

In the event, the sixth hostage handover of Phase 1 went ahead smoothly, with three Israeli men, looking as fit and healthy as could be expected given their ordeal, handed over to the International Red Cross and thence back to Israel in exchange for the release of 369 Palestinian prisoners, 36 of them serving long-term sentences and the rest Gazans picked up at random with no charges. 

Netanyahu hates the Palestinian Authority at least as much as he does Hamas, because the PA wants a two-state solution. "There will be no Hamas and no PA in Gaza after the war," he said.

As before, and against the wishes of the Red Cross, Hamas turned the handover into a spectacle aimed at conveying the message that it is still strong and in control, with hundreds of heavily-armed, smartly-uniformed fighters, some toting advanced Israeli combat weapons probably seized in the October 7 2023 attack, cordoning off a large square and displaying the hostages on a stage festooned with Hamas banners and slogans. 

With the closing stages of the first phase set to continue (14 more days, 14 more hostages) did this mean that some daylight was opening up between Netanyahu and Trump, who had railed against the release of hostages in "dribs and drabs"? Not really. Trump is clearly in tune with the more vocally extreme elements in the Israeli cabinet, Itamar Ben Gvir and Bezalel Smotrich, but Netanyahu could not simply junk the elaborately-negotiated and signed agreement, especially as the highly-emotive issue of hostage lives was at stake. At the security cabinet meeting where the exchange was approved, he is reported to have told his ministers not to give interviews or mention the Trump plan, to avoid appearing to act counter to the volatile US president.

So the focus shifted to the second phase of the accord, which was supposed to see the release of all Israeli hostages and many more Palestinian prisoners, and the complete withdrawal of Israeli forces from the Gaza Strip. It would mean the end of the war, with preparations for a third phase devoted to reconstruction. 

Negotiations on Phase 2 were meant to start on February 4, but two weeks went by before movement started in that direction, and the process was clearly going to be fraught. The issue of who would control and govern Gaza had been left open. As the TV screens glaringly showed, Hamas was still very much there and in charge. All attempts had failed to encourage an alternative local leadership, or to posit a takeover by the discredited Palestinian Authority from the West Bank. 

Netanyahu hates the PA at least as much as he does Hamas, because the PA wants a two-state solution. "There will be no Hamas and no PA in Gaza after the war," he said on February 17. "I am committed to U.S. President Trump's plan for the realization of a different Gaza."

"Any plan that leaves Hamas in charge of Gaza will be unacceptable to Israel," said Trump's Secretary of State Marco Rubio. After talks with Netanyahu, he added : "Hamas cannot continue as a military or government force. It must be eliminated or eradicated."

"The next phase of the hostage deal remains under great threat," concluded Amir Tibon in Haaretz. "It is clear that Netanyahu wants the deal to collapse and the war to resume, and that he is doing everything in his power to make that happen." The collapse of the deal with Hamas would be the only way to enable Trump's "plan" for the US to "take over, own and cherish" a Gaza flattened beyond redemption and devoid of its Palestinian inhabitants, who would be rehoused happily and permanently in "beautiful communities" elsewhere while their Gaza was reborn as an incredible Riviera for others. 

It's a real estate hustler's fantasy that collides head-on with every sanctity and imperative in Arab history and politics. Egypt and Jordan immediately rejected Trump's suggestion that they take in Palestinians from Gaza. Trump was presumably assuming that the several billion dollars both receive in US military and economic aid would leverage obedience. But there are some issues that are beyond pressure and bribery. It would be an existential threat for King Abdullah's Hashemite Kingdom of Jordan in particular. He knows that if the Gazans are displaced, the much closer and more numerous inhabitants of the West Bank, where things are already hotting up dangerously, would not be far behind. 

No Arab leader can go down in history as collaborating in a second Nakba, the first being the displacement of Palestinians by the creation of Israel in 1948. The Saudis, who Trump is counting on to join Israel in an expanded Abraham Accord despite Gaza, know this as well as any, and have long made it unequivocally clear that there is no way normalisation will happen without a clear pathway to a Palestinian state. They were further irked by Netanyahu's facetious suggestion that if they were so keen on that, why not establish it in the Kingdom? 

Riyadh set about rallying the Arabs behind a plan to counter the Trump scheme, with Egypt and others working on the details of a formula for reconstructing the Strip without displacing its inhabitants. The key issue is whether Hamas could be induced to stand aside, and who would take political and security control. Whatever the arrangement, Hamas would still be the power behind the camouflage. Would Israel accept such a cosmetic ploy, or, with Trump's backing, go all out to complete its stated war aim of destroying Hamas? 

That would complete the conversion of Gaza into a totally unlivable hell on earth, to which it is already pretty close. If that were to happen and the doors were opened, the bulk of the population might have no option but to stream out for the sake of simple survival. "Give them a choice. Not forcible eviction. Not ethnic cleansing," as Netanyahu said.

If the Gaza issue might produce some Arab pushback against Trump's wilder notions, Israel's ambition to deal with Iran is less contentious, though further conflict is unlikely to be welcomed by the Gulf countries. The Saudis, UAE and others roundly condemned Israel's large-scale attack on Iran on October 26 last year – their relations with Tehran have improved considerably since Trump's first term. 

But Iran is certainly in the crosshairs. After meeting with Secretary of State Rubio on February 16, Netanyahu said that with President Trump's support, "I have no doubt we can and will finish the job." While Rubio said that Israel and the U.S. "stand shoulder to shoulder" against Iran, it remains to be seen whether Trump, who supposedly prefers making deals to making war, would prefer to squeeze Iran into quasi-submission rather than encouraging or engaging in conflict. 

The effect of Israel's devastating blows to Iran's regional allies is being felt strongly in Lebanon, where the new government formed by PM Nawaf Salam onFebruary 8 clearly reflected a new balance of power, with Hezbollah losing its ability to veto decisions it doesn't like. 

The day after the new Lebanese cabinet held its first meeting, Israeli warplanes broke the sound barrier over Beirut, rattling windows and nerves throughout the city. It was a clear message aimed at Beirut airport, which the Israelis (through the US) threatened to bombard if it allowed flights from Tehran to land, on the accusation that such planes were bringing in cash and possibly weapons for Hezbollah. The airport cancelled the incoming flights, prompting protest demonstrations by Hezbollah followers around the airport in which vehicles of UN peacekeepers were attacked and burned. The Salam government then went further, and cancelled all flights to and from Iran until further notice.

Under the November 27 ceasefire agreement last year between Israel and Hezbollah, Israeli forces were supposed to leave Lebanon by January 27, but the deadline was pushed back to February 18. Though the accord's co-sponsor France insisted the Israelis should then pull out fully, the U.S. did not oppose Israel's decision to retain five strategic hilltop positions in southern Lebanon. Israel also continued to carry out strikes on what it deemed Hezbollah targets in the Beqaa Valley, and on February 17 assassinated a Hamas officer with a drone strike on his car in the Lebanese city of Sidon. The concept of "ceasefire" seemed to be somewhat relative.

Netanyahu hailed Trump as the best friend Israel has ever had in the White House. The question now is whether the American president can treat the Arab side of the equation as amounting to nothing.

The post The scramble to reconstruct Gaza appeared first on Coda Story.

PayPal and Palantir co-founder Peter Thiel must have thought the bet he made on Vance in the 2022 Ohio Senate race had paid off in Paris. Thiel, alongside fellow venture capitalists David Sacks and Elon Musk, is the money behind the rise of JD Vance to the vice presidency of the United States. And in the French capital, Vance gave his investors the returns they've been banking on, making the argument that even the tamest regulation would stifle the AI industry and kill innovation.

"The AI future is not going to be won by hand-wringing about safety," Vance lectured assembled global leaders. "It will be won by building." Perhaps inevitably, given the tone being taken, the United States (alongside the United Kingdom) refused to sign an innocuous pledge at the end of the conference to "reduce digital divides" and "ensure AI is open, inclusive, transparent, ethical, safe, secure, and trustworthy." Nearly sixty other countries did sign.

Trump, it seems, doesn’t do multilateral, global treaties, having already pulled the U.S. out of a panoply of international agreements on health, climate change, justice, trade and taxation. And as the U.S. refused to play ball, China declared its intent to collaborate freely with other countries, to play its part in creating "a community with a shared future for mankind".

Vance’s first speech abroad as vice president showed how the Trump administration is looking to force everyone - allies and adversaries alike - to react while the U.S. sets the tune. Clearly, by countering American abrasiveness, China senses an opportunity to strengthen its soft power.

Not long after Vance’s visit to Paris, it was Hegseth’s turn to lecture the U.S.’s European allies. “Make no mistake,” he said in Brussels, “President Trump will not allow anyone to turn Uncle Sam into Uncle Sucker.”

Hegseth told reporters that the “peace dividend has to end.” Europe needs to spend more on its own defense because there are “autocrats with ambitions around the globe from Russia to the communist Chinese.” Either the West, he added, “awakens to that reality… or we will abdicate that responsibility to somebody else with all the wrong values.” 

The Trump administration is looking to force allies and adversaries alike to march to the beat of America's drum. By countering American abrasiveness, China senses an opportunity to strengthen its soft power.

Meanwhile in Washington, DC, Donald Trump was demonstrating the extent to which the United States seemed to be marginalizing NATO, by claiming to have already agreed with Vladimir Putin to begin negotiating a peace deal over Ukraine. No European leader had been clued in; neither had the Ukrainian president, Volodymyr Zelensky. If Europe was getting the stick, it very much seemed as if Putin was getting the carrot. “I know him very well,” Trump said about Putin. “I think he wants peace. I think he would tell me if he didn’t.” Trump also expressed his hope that Russia could rejoin the G7 (formerly G8) bloc of the world’s wealthiest nations.

“Europe must be part of any negotiations,” a group of European foreign ministers said in Paris, insisting plaintively on a seat at the table even as Trump seems intent on pulling that seat out from underneath them. A meeting between Putin and Trump has been mooted to discuss Ukraine – it will be held in Saudi Arabia and, as of now, nobody else has been invited. Though, as Vance prepares to meet with Zelensky at a security conference in Munich at the weekend, at least the U.S. acknowledges that Ukraine will need to be a part of the process. But an indication of the terms on which a peace deal with Russia might be agreed was provided by U.S. defence secretary Pete Hegseth who said that neither NATO membership nor reclaiming all its land occupied by Russia were “realistic” goals for Ukraine. 

China, reportedly, has also offered to host Trump and Putin for a summit to discuss a peace deal. Speaking in London, Wang Yi, the Chinese foreign minister, said “China is willing to work together with all parties, including the European side, to continue to play a constructive role in this regard.” The “rationality” of China’s position, he maintained, has been borne out by recent developments. Last year, China and Brazil said it could broker a peace deal, an offer Zelensky dismissed, questioning both countries’ motivations. “You will not boost your power,” he said, “at Ukraine’s expense.”

Since Trump returned to the White House, China’s approach has been to remind the world that it is a responsible global power. As the U.S. puts the world on the defensive, "China will increasingly be seen as a reliable global partner," noted one state magazine. The article was a reaction to the USAID freeze and argued that Beijing could now persuade other countries that its model "provides a more predictable and lasting choice for cooperation." 

Russian commentators, even as they welcomed Trump’s return, have been more cautious about any strategic benefits Russia might accrue. "The liberal agenda of previous administrations was something we learned to counter effectively," wrote an RT columnist. "But this conservative agenda, focused on patriotism, traditional family structures, and individual success, could prove more difficult to combat." Moscow must now compete with a Trump administration that can’t be attacked for being “woke,” that addresses the world from a vantage point that Russia thought was theirs, through conservative rather than progressive values and through Big Tech and trade tariffs rather than aid.

But with Trump intent on posturing as the lone gunslinger in town, Russia might take comfort in its alliance with China. What of Europe, though, and Western consensus?

A version of this story was published in this week’s Coda Currents newsletter. Sign up here.

The post The end of consensus appeared first on Coda Story.

Except now it is. 

The president of the United States has given that person free rein to commandeer the forum but it’s not possible just to log off. Elon Musk’s tiresome jokes, gross politics, and crass ignorance are no longer confined to X, or even the Oval Office, but have been unleashed onto the world’s most vulnerable people. “Corruption is development in reverse, devastating the outcomes we seek across all sectors, eroding the rule of law, and undermining citizen trust in governing institutions and processes,” said a (now grimly ironic) mission statement from USAID, issued just two years ago. A statement that now can’t be read on its web site because Musk has shut it down.

He has used X and his status as “Special Government Employee” to dismiss the world’s most important aid agency – in words that presumably landed well with his acolytes on X but signified nothing to me – as “a radical-left political psy op.” Just from my own knowledge, I can say this vandalism will benefit no one but America’s enemies and undermine its friends.

A FORCE FOR GOOD

Take, for instance, the Anti-Corruption Action Center in Kyiv. It has done more than anyone to cement honesty in Ukraine – which, a decade ago, was arguably the most corrupt nation in Europe – and was 20% funded by USAID. Or the Journalism Development Network, which has exposed corruption and misgovernance throughout Eastern Europe and beyond, its reporting helping considerably to prevent the Kremlin from buying influence. It too was funded by USAID. These projects aren’t just important for informing curious people, banks’ compliance departments rely on news reports like these to assess whether a potential client is a crook or an entrepreneur. Without the journalism that USAID funded, the world’s anti-money-laundering guardians will be blind. 

And that’s not all. The Kurdish guards of a camp for former Islamic State fighters and their families are able to keep it safe, and its inmates fed, thanks to money from USAID. Here’s a USAID-funded programme to combat corruption in sea ports; here’s a story about a radio station in Afghanistan that also received USAID funding. USAID helped spread the practice of democracy into places it had never been. The agency’s $43 billion annual budget may sound like a lot, but it’s less than Musk paid for Twitter before he trashed it, and it’s barely a fifth of the increase in his own personal wealth in just the last twelve months.

A MATTER OF LIFE AND DEATH, NOT POLITICS 

Of course, not everything USAID has done has been ideal. But there is an incredible degree of idiocy in failing to appreciate that the cheapest and easiest way to win arguments is not to have them in the first place. USAID is the world’s single largest donor for humanitarian causes. Spending money to win friends is a good investment.

“Elon Musk is the world's wealthiest man and right now he seems to be calling the shots with decisions that are literally going to be life or death for the world's poorest people,” said Giff Johnson, the laconic and wise editor of the Marshall Islands Journal, the leading newspaper in a country that is both very aid dependent and very strategically located. Where the United States steps back, China will step forward. “It's an opening for anybody else who wants to fill the gap, I suppose, until Washington decides what it is doing."

On top of all this, the Department of Justice has disbanded Task Force KleptoCapture, which was part of an international effort to make Vladimir Putin’s corrupt allies and officials pay the cost of the Ukraine war. Oh, and it’s decided not to investigate foreign intervention in US politics. 

It is beginning to feel a little like the United States is changing sides here. Or maybe it already has?

THE COST OF HAVING PRINCIPLES

Also changing sides, have been the billionaires coalescing around Trump, particularly Jeff Bezos once described as a “woke philanthropist” for his funding of climate organisations and tuition-free preschools. 

In 1947, Time magazine reported on a 37-year-old Japanese judge called Yoshitada Yamaguchi who, too poorly-paid to live on his salary and too honourable to break the law, starved to death. “It is horrible these days to be married to an honest man,” his widow said.

I remembered that story when reading about how Bezos’ charitable foundation had cut funding for the world’s leading climate standard setter, apparently in order to avoid annoying Donald Trump. “Obviously Jeff Bezos and the tech companies have changed compared to eight years ago,” one source told the FT. It is clearly not reasonable to expect people to starve to death rather than betray the needs of the society they live in, but honestly you’d have thought a billionaire might be willing to go without his elevenses to stand up for some principles? What is the point of having all those commas on your bank statement if you roll over like a whipped dog when someone threatens to say something mean to you?

How different Bezos, and his flexible principles, are from the likes of Guatemalan lawyer Virginia Laparra Rivas, who dedicated her career to fighting corruption and organised crime. She won a prize in London last week for her work and her courage. After five years of harassment, Laparra was imprisoned for two years in 2022 after being convicted of abusing her authority as head of the Special Prosecutor’s Office Against Impunity in Quetzaltenango, in a process that was widely condemned.

“I wonder how many of us who speak about and act in support of the rule of law in the UK so confidently would have the bravery and the principles to do so in a country such as Guatemala,” asked senior judge David Neuberger in a speech at the awards ceremony. 

Or indeed in Washington DC right now?

NO FISH TOO SMALL TO FRY

And speaking of the courage required to take on the powerful. By the time you read this, Transparency International will have published its annual Corruption Perceptions Index, and there will be all the usual hoopla about how Denmark has gone up, South Sudan has gone down, and – oh dear – under Donald Trump, the United States has slipped to – I don’t know – maybe thirtieth? Whatever the actual scores, there will be a map showing Europe and North America in a friendly yellow, while Africa and Asia will be an angry red, just like last year and the year before that.

Please ignore it. The index is meaningless nonsense, in which “corrupt” is just a synonym for poor. And it does real harm, since the CPI’s metric filters into so many of the ways that aid agencies make funding decisions, and companies decide whether to make investments or not. I’m convinced the only reason TI keeps producing it is because everyone talks about it so if we stop, maybe they will too.

A version of this story was published in this week’s Oligarchy newsletter. Sign up here.

The post Elon the Terrible and the folly of bullying USAID appeared first on Coda Story.

When he declared last week that Ukraine should "secure what we're giving them with their rare earth and other things," he inadvertently exposed a bitter truth: gauzy Western rhetoric about sovereignty and self-determination doesn’t apply to countries that neighbor a colonial power.

It was a lesson I learned for myself, reporting from Georgia in 2008 as Russian tanks rolled towards my hometown.By the time a ceasefire was called, Russia had invaded and seized 20% of Georgian land, the territory of America's most loyal non-NATO ally in the region. And Georgia had suffered a wound that would prove fatal. Just months later, Hillary Clinton, Obama's newly minted Secretary of State, presented her Russian counterpart Sergey Lavrov with a red “reset” button in Geneva. 

Despite the recent Russian aggression, there was Lavrov, laughing and joking with Clinton about a mistake in the transliteration from English to Cyrillic of the word “reset.” Every Georgian, Kazakh, or Ukrainian who had experienced Russian colonialism first hand, knew that what he was really chuckling about was the fact that Moscow had just gotten away with murder. 

Trump has exposed a bitter truth: gauze Western rhetoric about sovereignty and self-determination doesn't apply to countries that neighbor a colonial power.

In 2022, when Russia launched its full-scale invasion, Ukraine was positioning itself to be a key player in the global green technology transition. The country's vast deposits of lithium and various minerals - including 22 of the 34 minerals that the European Union deems to be “critical” – promised a pathway to genuine economic sovereignty. But that future was stolen by Russia's invasion, with a significant percentage of Ukrainian minerals now under Russian control, including half of its rare earths reserves. 

The mineral deposits that remain – resources that could finance Ukraine's post-war reconstruction – are now being demanded by Trump as collateral for military aid. Ukrainian president Volodymyr Zelenskiy leapt at the offer: “let’s do a deal,” he told Reuters about Trump’s conditions, “we are only for it.” Zelenskiy’s desperate need for continued American support means he has little choice but to bargain away Ukraine’s resources. Even if it raises the grim colonial specter of the U.S. and Russia sitting across the negotiating table and carving up Ukrainian wealth amongst themselves.

Trump's approach eerily echoes Victorian-era colonialism. When Cecil Rhodes declared in 1902 that he would "annex the planets if I could," he expressed the same ruthless resource-extraction mindset that now drives Trumpian foreign policy. Both men share a vision of power measured in territorial control and resource ownership, backed by military might.

In his first term, Trump was frequently described as an isolationist, unwilling to continue to fund American military adventurism abroad, unwilling to intervene in the affairs of other countries, unwilling to shelter migrants, and unwilling to abide by international agreements and institutions. Back then, the label was suspect, a badge of convenience. Already in the first weeks of Trump’s second term, the label has become absurd. 

But Trump's mineral-for-weapons proposition, crude as it is, strips away decades of Western illusions. It acknowledges what leaders in Washington and Brussels long refused to see - that countries in Russia's shadow have never had the luxury of true independence. 

Since the 1990s, the West's approach to Russia has been built on a peculiar form of magical thinking - a stubborn belief that Moscow can be changed through engagement and dialogue. It’s a pattern that requires the West to bury its head in the sand after each example of Russian aggression. For instance, after Russia's cyberattacks on Estonia in 2007, Western leaders dismissed it as an anomaly. And then, after the invasion of Georgia in 2008, they rushed to "reset" relations. Six years later, after the seizure of Crimea, they still spoke of finding diplomatic solutions. Each time Putin tested the West's resolve, he emerged more emboldened, his every action treated as an aberration rather than as part of a coherent imperial strategy.

Since the 1990s, the West's approach to Russia has been built on a peculiar form of magical thinking - a stubborn belief that Moscow can be changed through engagement and dialogue.

The medieval assault on Ukraine in 2022 seemed, finally, like a wake-up call. For a moment, it appeared that politicians in Europe and the United States understood that Putin wanted to rebuild a Russian empire. But the moment didn’t last long. Even as Putin openly declared his imperial ambitions, even as he openly dismissed Ukraine's right to sovereignty, Western leaders continued to search for off-ramps and resets that existed only in their imagination.

Joe Biden's tactics - treating the conflict as a crisis to be managed rather than a war to be won - became the final chapter of the West’s failed post-Cold War politics. Each delayed weapons delivery, each hesitation justified by the fear of escalation, reflected a familiar priority: stability with Russia over the right to sovereignty of its neighbors.

Those underground deposits in Ukraine tell the story: a large portion now lies in territories controlled by Russia or too close to the front lines to be mined. No wonder, Zelensky is courting Trump’s interest in its rare earth deposits. The choices facing Ukraine's leadership and people remain what they've always been - a series of impossible decisions to be made in the shadow of an empire that has never accepted their right to decide.

“They think we are fighting to join NATO. But we are only fighting for our values and they happen to be the same as Europe's values," a Ukrainian soldier told me in 2015. His words haunt me now as we enter this new, cynical era. Deep beneath Ukraine's soil lies both promise and peril - deposits of minerals that could fuel either independence or a new era of colonial extraction. The familiar irony for Ukraine is that these resources, which make sovereignty viable, must also serve as collateral in a great game between colonial powers.

Now that the magical thinking and pretense is over and the hard calculations begin, the only certainty is that the cost will be borne, as always, by those who do not have the privilege of being able to harbor illusions and magical thoughts in the first place.

A version of this story was published in last week’s Sunday Read newsletter. Sign up here.

The post Donald Trump’s imperial dreams appeared first on Coda Story.

The encounter was jarring not just for its surreal nature - a discussion of political theory amid artillery fire - but for what it revealed about Russian propaganda's evolving sophistication. When I researched the Overton Window after our conversation, I discovered that Russian state media had long been obsessed with the concept, transforming this Western analytical framework into something more potent: both an explanation for social change and supposed proof of Western cultural warfare. Russian commentators didn't just cite the theory -  they wielded it as both explanation and evidence of Western attempts to undermine Russian society.

Over the next decade, I watched this once-academic term slide from Russian state TV screens and the trenches of eastern Ukraine into mainstream Western discourse - embraced by commentators on both the far left and far right of the political spectrum. What began as a framework for understanding social change became a blueprint for engineering it.

Now we're watching this process play out in real time.  For instance, Elon Musk's handpicked team running DOGE - the new Department of Government Efficiency - are inexperienced young men between the ages of 19 and 24 with unfettered access to federal systems. A decade ago, putting Silicon Valley twenty-somethings in charge of critical government functions would have sparked outrage. Today, it's celebrated as innovation.

What began as a framework for understanding social change became a blueprint for engineering it.

The transformation extends far beyond Washington. When America's president proposes to "take over" Gaza and turn it into "the Riviera of the Middle East," when Musk tells Germans to "move beyond" Nazi guilt, they're deliberately expanding what's politically possible. From Joe Rogan to Tucker Carlson, from African opinion writers praising Trump's aid cuts as "liberation" to conservative thinkers reimagining solutions for Gaza - each pushes the boundaries of acceptable discourse a little further.

The shift manifests across every domain of power. Inside federal agencies, tech executives now make decisions once reserved for career civil servants, normalizing private control of public functions. On the global stage, raw deal-making has replaced diplomatic principles, with decades-old alliances discarded in favor of transactional relationships. El Salvador's president offers his prisons to house American inmates. Ukraine, fighting for survival against Russia, signals its willingness to trade military support for mineral rights. Even humanitarian aid, long seen as a moral imperative, is being recast as a form of dependency that needs to be eliminated.

BlackRock, the world's largest asset manager, has already adapted to this new reality. Their latest analysis simply divides nations into "winners and losers" based on their ability to navigate this new transactional diplomacy and stay on Trump’s good side. No moral judgments, no democratic values - just raw negotiating power.

The Overton Window - or "Окно Овертона блядь" as the Russian commander put it in 2014, mechanically adding the profanity at the end of each phrase like a full stop - offers a powerful framework for understanding how societies transform - not through sudden upheaval but through the gradual shifting of what people consider acceptable.  Whether through the brutal recalibrations of war or the calculated provocations of political theater, the Overton Window is always in motion, reshaped by those willing to push its boundaries.

This systematic normalization of the extreme is a core tenet of the authoritarian playbook - a calculated strategy of gradually expanding what society will tolerate, inch by inch, controversy by controversy. The goal is not just to push boundaries, but to exhaust resistance, to make the previously unimaginable seem not just possible, but inevitable.

The same mechanism operates in political discourse, where deliberate provocation becomes a strategic tool for reshaping collective perception. Donald Trump is the master of this approach. 

Whether through the brutal recalibrations of war or the calculated provocations of political theater, the Overton Window is always in motion, reshaped by those willing to push its boundaries. This systematic normalization of the extreme is a core tenet of the authoritarian playbook.

His political methodology isn't about achieving specific outcomes, but about continuously expanding the boundaries of acceptable discourse. Each provocative statement serves as a strategic instrument, deliberately designed to recalibrate social and political norms. When he suggests purchasing Greenland or proposing radical reimaginings of geopolitical landscapes like in Gaza, the actual feasibility becomes secondary to the act of introducing previously unthinkable concepts into mainstream conversation.

The genius of this approach lies in its relentlessness. By consistently proposing ideas that initially seem outrageous, extreme positions gradually become reference points for future discussions. Each controversial statement doesn't just distract from previous controversies; it fundamentally reshapes the political imagination. The goal is not immediate implementation but permanent transformation - moving the entire conceptual framework of what society considers possible.

Russian propagandists were early to grasp its significance, weaponizing the Overton Window theory itself as supposed evidence of Western cultural imperialism. That commander in Donetsk was just echoing what Russian state media had been claiming for years: that the West was deliberately expanding society's boundaries to impose its values on Russia.

A decade later, we're watching this process unfold in reverse. As transactional relationships replace values-based alliances, as oligarchic control displaces democratic institutions, as the unthinkable becomes routine - the transformation of our societies isn't happening by accident. 

Through the years of Brexit, Trump's first win, Orbán's rise, and the growing global polarization, that conversation in the ruins of Donetsk has stayed with me. There was something chilling about a commander discussing political theory between artillery fire - not because it felt academic, but because he embodied how thoroughly manufactured narratives could drive real-world violence. He was willing to fight and die for a worldview constructed by Russian state media about "traditional values" under attack. 

In the end, we are all unwitting participants in this grand narrative shift, our perceptions subtly recalibrated by the very forces that seek to reshape our understanding of what is possible, acceptable, and true. And whether we are shocked by those in power or find ourselves applauding them, we are simultaneously the observers and the changed.

A version of this story was published in this week’s Coda Currents newsletter. Sign up here.

The post Shattering the Overton Window appeared first on Coda Story.

THE GRAND OLD DUKE OF WASHINGTON

This friend’s experience made me wonder about the lessons that US allies will be learning from the last few presidential terms when it comes to financial crime. Donald Trump marched them all up to the top of one hill in 2016-20, then Joe Biden marched them up another in 2020-24, and now Trump wants them to head off somewhere else entirely. What’s the lesson? Well, obviously, it’s “do the minimum, do it late, and it’s all a waste of time anyway.”

And this is bad, because – partly owing to U.S. diplomatic clout, and partly owing to the global role of the dollar – tackling financial crime or tax evasion without leadership from Washington DC has always proved hard/impossible. And now Trump has sacked 17 inspectors general from key federal agencies, that is independent, non-partisan watchdogs whose job it is to weed out government corruption, fraud and mismanagement. Instead, that effort is being led by Trump cronies and oligarchs like Elon Musk seeking to score political points. It’s going to take a long time before anyone thinks it’s worth listening to the U.S. about combating corruption, no matter who’s in charge.

BUT WHAT ABOUT BRUSSELS?

Is this an opportunity for the European Union to step up and provide alternative leadership? Well, apparently, EU countries are considering buying gas from Russia again as part of a settlement to end the war in Ukraine, so the short answer is “oh my God, no.” This is like a heroin addict who’s kicked the habit deciding to start shooting smack again to improve relations with his drug dealer.

It is, however, February which is when the EU publishes its not-at-all-anticipated biannual “list of non-cooperative jurisdictions for tax purposes.” (It also publishes a list in October.) Twice every year, I hope Brussels will have decided to change its longstanding policy and start naming and shaming places that genuinely undermine global work to stop tax evasion. This time around it’s particularly important since Donald Trump has withdrawn the U.S. from participation in a new global tax treaty and undone all the work towards making multinational corporations accountable. Perhaps Brussels could start with tax havens Ireland and Luxembourg?

But, no doubt, the officials responsible for this shameful exercise will do what they do twice a year, every year – name and shame a short list of tiny, irrelevant or diplomatically feeble jurisdictions in an unlovely combination of bullying and virtue signalling. Last time, they criticised Guam, but they did not criticise Delaware; Anguilla, but not the UK; Vanuatu, but not Switzerland. 

I think it’s time I learned from my doctor friend and started ignoring these government missives but I can’t help being an optimist.

AND LONDON?

Speaking of false optimism. How’s the U.K. doing on these issues? The government, keen to raise more revenue, has pushed regulators to encourage growth. The last time a government did this, we ended up with rivers full of sewage and oligarchs buying up London. An early sign of what it might mean this time around came from the Solicitors’ Regulation Authority, which keeps an eye on most of Britain’s lawyers.

The SRA was asked to judge whether a law firm called Discreet Law had acted improperly in suing Bellingcat’s Eliot Higgins for defamation after he said on social media that mercenary boss Yevgeny Prigozhin was, in fact, a mercenary boss. Prigozhin – who died in a plane crash in 2023, just weeks after attempting to march on Moscow – admitted his connection to the notorious Wagner Group and the case was thrown out.  

To most outside observers, the case was about as abusive as it gets – it had no merit, it was going after an individual rather than organisations, and it was filed in the notoriously plaintiff-friendly UK rather than another jurisdiction. But, according to the SRA, Discreet Law did nothing wrong, which sends a truly appalling message.

“Without a real deterrent to lawfare, deep-pocketed individuals, oligarchs, crooks and kleptocrats from around the world will continue to use our courts to suppress accountability. This foul play will continue to flourish. And Britain will remain a go-to destination for lawfare,” said Labour MP Lloyd Hatton. I sincerely hope that, in their push for economic growth at all costs, Hatton’s Labour colleagues won’t abandon the progress that has been made in trying to rein in London professionals’ desire to be butlers to the world’s kleptocrats.

DEBANKING CHARITIES

While mercenary oligarchs like Prigozhin rarely have trouble finding people in London to protect their interests or launder their money, a report released last week by the Muslim Charities Forum shows that life is harder if you don’t lead a private militia. 

Ever since the 1990s, governments have subcontracted to banks the job of keeping money launderers out of the financial system; and ever since the 2000s, banks have done the same for terrorists. To make sure banks do this job, governments occasionally impose huge fines on them and, as a result, banks are keen to comply.

The trouble is that finding all of the world’s money launderers and terrorists is practically impossible, so banks err on the side of caution. They prefer to kick 100,000 innocent people off of their accounts, than let one person slide through and risk a nine-figure fine. (Unless, of course, the launderer or terrorist in question is really rich). That, at any rate, is what the Muslim Charities Forum found.

Some 68 percent of Muslim charities said they had difficulty opening bank accounts; 42 percent suffered a complete withdrawal of banking services; another 42 percent had been forced to delay humanitarian projects because of delays in transferring funds; and 44 percent said the delays had harmed their relationships with partners.

The specific problems faced by Muslim charities date back to decisions made by the Financial Action Task Force (FATF) directly after the attacks of September 11, 2001, to demand banks pay more attention to non-governmental organisations working in or for Muslim countries. The actual words were “organisations having the status of a charitable or relief organisation... targeted at a particular community,” but everyone knew what they meant. This was despite the fact that there was no evidence that charities were more likely to fund terrorism than businesses, individuals or countries.

There is desperate need for humanitarian aid in many parts of the Islamic world – not least Gaza and Lebanon, but also Syria, Afghanistan, Yemen and elsewhere – and getting in the way of people that want to help for no good reason is not just harmful, it’s also stupid, because it will alienate people we really want to be our friends.

“Evidence suggests that structural Islamophobia plays a role in these financial challenges, as Muslim-led charities are often unfairly targeted by banks for perceived risks without concrete evidence of wrongdoing,” the Muslim Charities Forum said. “Internal frustrations are high, with charity staff spending excessive time resolving financial issues instead of focusing on core humanitarian work.”

Of the many things that the FATF should reform, this excessive and unreasonable focus on Muslim charities is for me at the top of the list. But it’s easier to go after low-hanging fruit.

A version of this story was published in this week’s Oligarchy newsletter. Sign up here.

Header illustration by Teona Tsintsadze/Getty Images.

The post Why the West is failing to fight corruption appeared first on Coda Story.

AfD has become a serious threat to Germany’s political establishment, with its leader Alice Weidel even leading the race  in one recent poll to become the country’s next chancellor. Weidel, a once obscure figure, enjoys the very loud and prominent support of Elon Musk, who interviewed her for over an hour on X last month and appeared at an AfD rally via video link last week to tell the crowd that there was “frankly too much of a focus on past guilt. “ He exhorted AfD supporters to “be proud of German culture and German values and not to lose that in some sort of multiculturalism that dilutes everything.” 

Many AfD members have in the past called for an end to Germany’s “cult of guilt” over the Holocaust. And Weidel herself, while endorsing that phrase, has said German politics should not be about its past but about “confidence and responsibility for the future.”

When Musk told thousands of Germans they need to "move beyond" Nazi guilt, I reached out to Erica Hellerstein, a brilliant reporter who has spent months investigating Germany's complex relationship with historical memory. In 2023, her story for Coda dived into  the little-understood opposition to Holocaust remembrance inside Germany. 

"What's interesting to me is seeing that view migrate from the fringe of German society to one of the most powerful shadow politicians in the US," Erica told me.

"Children should not be guilty of the sins of their parents, let alone their great grandparents," Musk declared to cheering AfD supporters, just hours before the anniversary of the liberation of Auschwitz. Musk’s own grandfather was reportedly a pro-apartheid, antisemitic conspiracy theorist in South Africa - another country that, like Germany, has been celebrated for its post-conflict reconciliation efforts.

To understand today's shifting power dynamics, you have to understand how leaders manipulate our view of the past. The battle over historical memory has become one of the most potent weapons of modern authoritarianism, though it often goes unnoticed in daily headlines. Whether in school textbooks, political speeches, or family stories, the rewriting of history isn't really about the past at all. It's about who gets to control the future. 

No one understands this better than Vladimir Putin, who has written the playbook that authoritarians around the world are now following: Close the archives. Rewrite textbooks. Silence historians. Transform perpetrators into heroes.

What makes this tactic so effective is how stealthily it works at first. The rewriting of history begins in intimate spaces - in family silences, in selective remembrance, in subtle shifts of narrative.

We sent Erica to Germany in the wake of America's racial justice protests because we wanted to understand what Europe's model for historical reconciliation could teach a nation grappling with its own buried past. What Erica uncovered was revealing: even as Germans publicly embraced their culture of remembrance, many maintained a studied silence about their own family histories during the Nazi era - much like the buried stories of racial violence she found reporting across the American South. It was in these intimate gaps between public commemoration and private amnesia that she found the seeds of today's shift.

"Silence distorts memory..." wrote Erica Hellerstein in Coda nearly three years ago. She had traveled to Germany to report on its lauded culture of remembrance. Now with Elon Musk telling Germans to move on from their guilt, Erica's prescient piece reminds us why we must interrogate the horrors of history so as not to repeat them in the future. READ THE FULL STORY HERE.

"I don't think it's particularly surprising that someone with Musk's particular brand of grievance politics would gravitate to the AfD's brand of grievance politics," Erica told me, "but it does make me wonder if it will give license to other authoritarian movements to more vocally reject movements to reconcile with the past."

It’s already happening: Argentina's new president Javier Milei is actively whitewashing the country’s brutal period of dictatorship in the late-1970s and early-1980s. And in Hungary, historical revisionism has been essential to Viktor Orbán maintaining his grip on power.  While, in the United States, conservative politicians continue to rail against the 1619 Project and any attempt to teach accurate history in schools.

In Russia, where 70% approve of Stalin's role in Russian history, nearly half of young people say they've never heard of the Great Terror. Years before Russian tanks rolled into Ukraine we saw how the Putin regime began to implement its meticulous, systematic erasure of Soviet crimes: “cleansing” history books, culture, music, film, media.  By rewriting the past, Putin's regime cleared the way for future atrocities. When he finally declared Ukraine's statehood a historical fiction in 2022, the groundwork had been laid over decades of perpetuating carefully constructed historical myths. 

Now, as Musk amplifies a view that was once barely whispered in German living rooms, we're seeing  the results of the same erosion of historical memory burst into the mainstream. It’s evident in the support for extreme right wing groups across Europe,

What makes this moment particularly dangerous is how it weaponizes a very human impulse - the desire to avoid confronting uncomfortable truths about our past. As one Gulag survivor told us, of wrestling with this challenge in Russia: "How do you hold people accountable when there are millions of interrogators, millions of informants, millions of prison guards... These millions were also our people."

This selective amnesia creates exactly the kind of buried tension and grievance that authoritarians exploit. From Moscow to Buenos Aires, from Mississippi to Munich, we see how silence about the past can pave the way for power grabs in the present. When Musk aligns himself with Germany's far right, he's not just making an inflammatory speech - he's giving global legitimacy to a movement that understands what Putin has long known: controlling society’s memory is the key to controlling society.

Today, as we witness what Erica calls "the global ripple effect of this kind of embrace of a once-taboo interpretation of history," I'm struck by how the grand sweep of politics often begins in the quiet spaces of our homes. 

The stories we tell our children, the silences we maintain at family gatherings, the questions we dare or don't dare to ask about our ancestors - these intimate choices extend outward, shaping not just our personal narratives but our collective future. 

As Erica put it: “I think it’s so important to start with our family stories - because over time, memory gaps can mutate into memory wars.” And so, perhaps our most important task begins at our dinner tables: facing up to the stories we've been afraid to tell.

The post To control the future, rewrite the past appeared first on Coda Story.

And that’s without counting the cost of Trump’s decision to withdraw from the World Health Organization which has particularly serious implications for Africa. Eventually, Marco Rubio, the new U.S. secretary of state, walked back some of the order, saying exceptions would be made for “life-saving aid” including HIV treatments.

Despite Rubio’s clarification that essential aid would be granted a “humanitarian waiver,” many aid workers said they hadn’t yet been told whether they could resume operations, having already been told to cease operations last week. In Uganda alone, an estimated 1.2 million people would have been affected by the withdrawal of funds from AIDS relief. The Ugandan-born executive director of UNAIDS, Winnie Byanyima said that the United States’  “unwavering commitment to addressing HIV stands as a global gold standard of leadership.” If Trump continued to back AIDS relief, she added, the U.S. could effectively “end AIDS by 2030.” 

But few Ugandan politicians expressed any anger or even disappointment in the immediate aftermath of Trump’s blanket order to freeze funding. On X, human rights activist, Hillary Innocent Taylor Seguya asked “where is the outrage?” Months before, he had told me how the autocratic Ugandan president Yoweri Museveni’s government monitored social media posts and sometimes used online criticism as grounds to arrest activists.  

By contrast, in August, 2023, when the World Bank decided to suspend new public financing to Uganda, Museveni himself took to social media. The World Bank made its decision in the wake of Uganda’s “Anti-Homosexuality Act, 2023” which sought to “prohibit any form of sexual relations between persons of the same sex” and to “prohibit the promotion or recognition of sexual relations between persons of the same sex.” 

The range of punishments included life imprisonment and even the death penalty. For LGBT activist Hans Senfuma, the passage of the act into Ugandan law turned his nightmare into reality “It essentially gives the go-ahead to attack those who are assumed to be LGBTQ+,” he said, explaining that he himself now lived a life of secrecy, rarely leaving his apartment for fear even of his own neighbors.

It is, posted Museveni, “unfortunate that the World Bank and other actors dare to want to coerce us into abandoning our faith, culture, principles and sovereignty, using money.” Uganda, he added, “does not need pressure from anybody to know how to solve problems in our society. They are our problems.” Later that year, Joe Biden suspended Uganda from a group of African countries granted special duty free access to the US for specified products.

With the election of Trump, Uganda sees an opportunity to return to the fold. “We are going to start engaging with the new administration as soon as possible,” said Vincent Waiswa Bagiire, a senior foreign ministry official. “The tone which His Excellency Trump has set is favorable.” Over a five-year period, it was estimated that Uganda’s anti-LGBTQ law would cost it over $8 billion. But with Trump having signed his own anti-LGBTQ executive orders, the Ugandan government sees him as a likely ally, as someone who shares their values. 

Trump has used his executive power to restore U.S. participation in global anti-abortion pacts to deny millions of women around the world access to contraception and safe abortions. It’s a stance that puts the United States in league with Hungary, Russia and extreme theocracies.

Indeed, as The Bureau of Investigative Journalism reported, Valerie Huber, a former adviser to the Trump administration, has been traveling across Africa soliciting government investment in her sex education programs. Huber, TBIJ noted, is the “driving force behind the Geneva Consensus Declaration, a statement signed by 34 countries saying that there is ‘no international right to abortion.’” 

Trump’s executive order commits the United States to recognizing “two sexes, male and female” which are apparently “not changeable and are grounded in fundamental and incontrovertible reality.” This has emboldened anti-LGBT activists across the continent. In Ghana, for instance, a bill has been proposed to imprison people for “identifying” as LGBT or funding LGBT groups. While the new Ghanaian president John Mahama, who like Trump was inaugurated in January, says the bill is “effectively dead on procedural grounds,” activists have been pushing for its passage into law. “With Donald Trump’s return,” said one activist, “Ghana is on the right side of history.”

In a paper commissioned by the Swedish Association for Sexuality Education in September, the researcher Malayah Harper assessed the global ramifications of the implementation of Project 2025 proposals. Project 2025, she argued, “calls for an end to using U.S. diplomatic soft power in Africa to protect the rights of LGBTQ+ communities, and refers to this diplomacy as ‘imposing pro-LGBT initiatives.” Connected to this, is the conservative desire for Trump to pull the plug on U.S. funds for foreign organizations that promote or provide abortions. 

And Trump has done exactly that, using his executive power to restore U.S. participation in global anti-abortion pacts to deny millions of women around the world, including in Africa, access to contraception and safe abortions. Significantly, while speaking of the government’s “humanitarian waiver,” Rubio made sure to say exemptions did not apply to abortion, family planning, transgender surgeries, and diversity, equity and inclusion programs. It’s a stance that puts the United States in league with Hungary, Russia and extreme theocracies.

It is a key trope of Russian propaganda that homosexuality is a decadent Western concept. Russia, the Kremlin insists, is the last bastion of traditional family values, a pitch which has resonated with conservative communities everywhere. Now that the U.S. is following along the same path, the effect on women’s health could be catastrophic. 

Also, as Trump retreats from public health initiatives in Africa and elsewhere, it leaves the door open for others, particularly China to step in and reshape global alliances to its benefit. Anna Reismann, the Country Director for Uganda and South Sudan at Konrad-Adenaur-Stiftung, a foundation associated with the Christian Democratic Union of Germany, a major center-right political party, told me that dropping aid funding only fueled anti-Western narratives. “It plays to sentiments against colonialism and paternalistic behaviors of Western powers," she said. In other words, the vacuum left by the U.S. would be filled by China, Russia and other non-Western powers that do not impose human rights conditions on funding. 

A version of this story was published in this week’s Coda Currents newsletter. Sign up here.

The post Trump, Museveni and the anti-LGBT agenda appeared first on Coda Story.

But perhaps the real shock should be that Silicon Valley was shocked at all.

For years, Silicon Valley and its cheerleaders spread the narrative of inevitable American dominance of the artificial intelligence industry. From the "Why China Can't Innovate" cover story in the Harvard Business Review to the breathless reporting on billion-dollar investments in AI, U.S. media spent years building an image of insurmountable Western technological superiority. Even this week, when Wired reported on the "shock, awe, and questions" DeepSeek had sparked, the persistent subtext seemed to be that technological efficiency from unexpected quarters was somehow fundamentally illegitimate. 

“In the West, our sense of exceptionalism is truly our greatest weakness,” says data analyst Christopher Wylie, author of MindF*ck, who famously blew the whistle on Cambridge Analytica in 2017. 

That arrogance was on full display just last year when OpenAI's Sam Altman, speaking to an audience in India, declared: "It's totally hopeless to compete with us. You can try and it's your job to try but I believe it is hopeless." He was dismissing the possibility that teams outside Silicon Valley could build substantial AI systems with limited resources.

There are still questions over whether DeepSeek had access to more computing power than it is admitting. Scale AI chief executive Alexandr Wong said in a recent interview that the Chinese company had access to thousands more of the highest grade chips than people know about, despite U.S. export controls.  What's clear, though, is that Altman didn't anticipate that a competitor would simply refuse to play by the rules he was trying to set and would instead reimagine the game itself.

By developing an AI model that matches—and in many ways surpasses—American equivalents, DeepSeek challenged the Silicon Valley story that technological innovation demands massive resources and minimal oversight. While companies like OpenAI have poured hundreds of billions into massive data centers—with the Stargate project alone pledging an “initial investment” of $100 billion—DeepSeek demonstrated a fundamentally different path to innovation.

"For the first time in public, they've provided an efficient way to train reasoning models," explains Thomas Cao, professor of technology policy at Tufts University. "The technical detail is that they've come up with a way to do reinforcement learning without supervision. You don't have to hand-label a lot of data. That makes training much more efficient."

By developing an AI model that matches—and in many ways surpasses—American equivalents, DeepSeek challenged the Silicon Valley story that technological innovation demands massive resources and minimal oversight.

For the American media, which has drunk the Silicon Valley Kool Aid, the DeepSeek story is a hard one to stomach. For a long time, Wylie argues, while countries in Asia made massive technological breakthroughs, the story commonly told to the American people focused on American tech exceptionalism. 

An alternative approach, Wylie says, would be to see and “acknowledge that China is doing good things we can learn from without meaning that we have to adopt their system. Things can exist in parallel.” But instead, he adds, the mainstream media followed the politicians down the rabbit hole of focusing on the "China threat." 

These geopolitical fears have helped Big Tech shield itself from genuine competition and regulatory scrutiny. The narrative of a Cold War style “AI race” with China has also fed the assumption that a major technological power can be bullied into submission through trade restrictions. 

That assumption has also crumpled. The U.S. has spent the past two years attempting to curtail China's AI development through increasingly strict controls on advanced semiconductors. These restrictions, which began under Biden in 2022 and were significantly expanded last week under Trump, were designed to prevent Chinese companies from accessing the most advanced chips needed for AI development. 

DeepSeek developed its model using older generation chips stockpiled before the restrictions took effect, and its breakthrough has been held up as an example of genuine, bootstrap innovation. But Professor Cao cautions against reading too much into how export controls have catalysed development and innovation at DeepSeek. "If there had been no export control requirements,” he said, “DeepSeek could have been able to do things even more efficiently and faster. We don't see the counterfactual." 

DeepSeek is a direct rebuke to both Western assumptions about Chinese innovation and the methods the West has used to curtail it. 

As millions of Americans downloaded DeepSeek, making it the most downloaded app in the U.S., OpenAI’s Steven Heidel peevishly claimed that using it would mean giving away data to the Chinese Communist Party. Lawmakers too have warned about national security risks and dozens of stories like this one echoed suggestions that the app could be sending U.S. data to China. 

Security concers aside,  what really sets DeepSeek apart from its Western counterparts is not just efficiency of the model, but also the fact that it is open source. Which, counter-intuitively, makes a Beijing-funded app more democratic than its Silicon Valley predecessors. 

In the heated discourse surrounding technological innovation, "open source" has become more than just a technical term—it's a philosophy of transparency. Unlike proprietary models where code is a closely guarded corporate secret, open source invites global scrutiny and collective improvement.

DeepSeek is a direct rebuke to Western assumptions about Chinese innovation and the methods the West has used to curtail it.

At its core, open source means that the source code of a software is made freely available for anyone to view, modify, and distribute. When a technology is open source, users can download the entire code, run it on their own servers, and verify every line of its functionality. For consumers and technologists alike, open source means the ability to understand, modify, and improve technology without asking permission. It's a model that prioritizes collective advancement over corporate control. Already, for instance, the Chinese tech behemoth Alibaba has released a new version of its own large language model that it says is an upgrade on DeepSpeak.

Unlike ChatGPT or any other Western AI system, DeepSource can be run locally without giving away any data. "Despite the media fear-mongering, the irony is DeepSeek is now open source and could be implemented in a far more privacy-preserving way than anything offered by Meta or OpenAI,"  Wylie says. “If Sam Altman open sourced OpenAI, we wouldn’t look at it with the same skepticism, he would be nominated for the Nobel Peace Prize."

The open-source nature of DeepSeek is a huge part of the disruption it has caused. It challenges Silicon Valley's entire proprietary model and challenges our collective assumptions about both AI development and global competition. Not surprisingly, part of Silicon Valley’s response has been to complain that Chinese companies are using American companies’ intellectual property, even as their own large language models have been built by consuming vast amounts of information without permission.

This counterintuitive strategy of openness coming from an authoritarian state also gives China a massive soft power win that it will translate into geopolitical brownie points. Just as TikTok's algorithms outmaneuvered Instagram and YouTube by focusing on accessibility over profit, DeepSeek, which is currently topping iPhone downloads, represents another moment where what's better for users—open-source, efficient, privacy-preserving—challenges what's better for the boardroom.

We are yet to see how DeepSeek will reroute the development of AI, but just as the original Sputnik moment galvanized American scientific innovation during the Cold War, DeepSeek could shake Silicon Valley out of its complacency. For Professor Cao the immediate lesson is that the US must reinvest in fundamental research or risk falling behind. For Wylie, the takeaway of the DeepSeek fallout in the US is more meta: There is no need for a new Cold War, he argues. “There will only be an AI war if we decide to have one.”

Additional reporting by Masho Lomashvili.

The post DeepSeek shatters Silicon Valley’s invincibility delusion appeared first on Coda Story.