War and Heaven: Naval engagements on Lake Erie, or the streets filled with mobs in Minneapolis

Heaven, if it ever drops into a weekday, arrives as an unbroken stretch of time, a fixed chair, and a book that turns the world quiet. Think of South Island (South Bass Island to the mapmakers), breeze off the lake, family close but unstressed by plans, and you alone in a wide funnel of attention, the way Roosevelt must have felt as a twenty‑something wading into tonnage tables, gun calibers, and the yaw rates of brigs that fought when the sun was here and the wind was there. His Naval War of 1812 doesn’t just narrate; it measures: gun ranges that outreached or underreached, hull weights that carried too much or just enough, tactical gambits that cut the enemy’s line and made surrender a rational choice. The book is public domain now, and its pages remain a monument to a young mind doing honest work—cross-checking American and British records, praising and faulting both sides, even dinging the Lake Erie hero Oliver Hazard Perry when the facts require it. 1 2

On that lake, on September 10, 1813, Perry hove into view with nine American vessels to meet six British ships under Robert Barclay. The Americans had more hulls but fewer long guns; their carronades hit harder up close but could not reach. So the problem was a physics problem disguised as a command: close the distance or lose the day. When Perry’s flagship Lawrence was chewed to fragments, he took a boat through shot and spray to the Niagara, cut through the British line, and—within fifteen minutes—broke an enemy that had seemed in control an hour before. His dispatch—“We have met the enemy, and they are ours”—isn’t just rhetoric; it’s a report written by a man who had solved for wind, range, and morale. 3 4

Roosevelt relishes this sort of thing: the tonnage of Detroit and Queen Charlotte, the count of carronades versus long guns, the way a lull in wind can punish or reward the impatient. He is careful about claims of decisiveness, noting that moral effect sometimes outpaced material effect; a British fleet stretched thin around the world felt every pinprick differently than a small American squadron guarding a frontier. But the Lake Erie victory did more than win a dispatch line; it compelled British withdrawals, eased the American army’s operations, and re-stacked bargaining chips for peace. Gerry Altoff wrote years later that it also provided the leverage that was otherwise lacking at Ghent; the Americans had something solid to point to across the table. These are the old equations: logistics, geometry, and courage. 2 5

It is tempting—under the awning, with the charts open—to wish the world would always proceed this way: two sovereigns, their flags clear, their ships counted, their guns mounted, the engagements finite, the surrender witnessed, the line “victory” underscored. Clausewitz would understand the appeal; he insisted that tactics used force to win battles while strategy used battles to defeat the object of policy. But he would also caution that war is never just the neatness of a duel; it is a “continuation of policy by other means,” an arena where chance and friction mock the best arithmetic. Still, the geometry of sail warfare felt bounded by wind roses, by timber supply, by human nerve. Today, the geometry has dissolved. 6 7

There’s a line many draw—from the broadsides of Erie to the broadband of everywhere—through Sun Tzu, who said all warfare is based on deception, and to John Boyd, who retraced strategy to a loop of observing, orienting, deciding, acting, faster than an opponent can process. Sun Tzu’s aphorisms can be abused, but the enduring insight is that you win before the battle by making the other side missee the field. Boyd modernized that idea, arguing your real leverage is in “orientation”—the cultural, experiential lens through which raw data becomes a story—and that victory comes not only from speed but from the ability to disintegrate the adversary’s cohesion by flooding him with ambiguity he can’t resolve in time. In sailing terms, it’s as if you keep shifting the wind on the other man without touching the sky. 8 9

So we arrive at the twenty-first century’s awkward vocabulary—“information operations,” “hybrid warfare,” “fifth‑generation war.” The common core is simple: power has migrated into the cognitive domain. States and networks try to command the trend, not just the trench. The RAND Corporation calls this influence activity—planned attempts to shape thoughts, feelings, and behaviors using psychological tools, data, and media systems. Think tanks and war colleges now train officers to recognize the tactics: bot networks to pump a theme into trending algorithms, troll farms to seed doubt, cross-platform memes to make lies sticky, timing operations to poll cycles and media rhythms. What used to be a leaflet drop is now a hashtag cascade. 10 11

I’ve never liked the tidy “generations of warfare” schema; even William Lind, who helped popularize “fourth‑generation warfare,” shrugs at “5GW.” But the heuristic does capture something: conflict has shifted from massed formations to distributed, deniable, non-kinetic contests whose decisive effects are psychological and political. The “battlefield” is always on: your phone, your feed, your bank, your ballot. Scholars warn the 5GW label is fuzzy—yet even the critiques concede the center of gravity is the mind; “winning” looks like persuading populations to disable themselves. Roosevelt mapped sail plans; our planners map social graphs. 12 13

If that sounds like exaggeration, look at the empirical work. RAND tracks influence operations as a field, from gray‑zone maritime pressure to social media propaganda; the National Defense University has published primers on how Russia, China, and ISIS use platform dynamics to push or distort narratives cheaply and anonymously. Academic work now mines Facebook and X (Twitter) takedowns to chart which regimes are targeted and why—finding “mixed regimes” are more frequently hit, because they are unstable enough to tip and open enough to be reached. The vocabulary is clinical, but the stakes are civic: make citizens distrust institutions, and you win without firing a shot. 14 15

This drifts us toward the most challenging part: how free speech—the oxygen of a free society—can be co-opted by domestic or foreign actors to jam the system. In an older war, “sedition” took the form of armed conspiracy; in a borderless conflict, the line between protected protest and unlawful obstruction becomes the live wire. The Supreme Court’s lodestar is Brandenburg v. Ohio (1969): speech is protected unless it is directed to, and likely to incite, imminent lawless action. That standard is intentionally tight; it shields harsh, even vile, rhetoric from censorship because the alternative—letting governments police dissent—is worse. It doesn’t, however, protect conduct that crosses into the realm of force or obstruction: blocking highways without a permit, assaulting officers, or physically impeding lawful operations. Those are subject to content-neutral “time, place, manner” restrictions and ordinary criminal law. 16 17

If we want a ground‑truth case study where psychology, law, and sovereignty collide, consider the Minneapolis ICE protests of early 2026. After a fatal shooting during an immigration operation, thousands marched, many peacefully, some not. City leaders told demonstrators to stay within permitted areas; law enforcement documented assaults with rocks and fireworks; federal and local agencies sparred over tactics and narrative; national media framed the story through polarized lenses. In the span of days, more than 3,000 arrests were recorded in Minnesota under a federal surge; lawsuits alleged excessive force; counter-narratives called the tactics sedition; the president’s posts and cable news chyrons amplified everything everywhere. Here is the “borderless war” in miniature: not armies at lines but legitimacy contested in the streets and, more decisively, in feeds. 18 19

What would Roosevelt do with such a battlespace? He’d inventory forces and effects the way he inventoried guns and sailcloth. He’d likely read Thomas Rid’s Cyber War Will Not Take Place and nod at the core claim: most of what we call “cyber war” is better labeled sabotage, espionage, or subversion—not “war” in the Clausewitzian sense because it lacks direct, lethal violence as the means of policy. Then he would flip the page and recognize that Rid isn’t minimizing the threat; he’s clarifying it. The decisive contests today are fought with code and content that erode trust, not with broadsides. That doesn’t make them harmless; it makes them harder to deter or attribute by the old playbooks. 20 21

Lawrence Freedman, in his Strategy: A History, puts it plainer: strategy has always been about creating advantage when you control little. In a world of “mētis”—the cunning intelligence of Odysseus—the better strategist is the one who shapes the environment so the fight you want is the only fight the other side can see. Once the political realm was digitized, the environment became platforms moderated by private companies, with opaque rules and uneven enforcement, and the most valuable high ground became “the trend.” Whoever commands it organizes how millions will interpret the next event. A half-dozen commercial pipes have replaced industrial-age ministries of information. 22 23

Now the knot tightens: you argue that free speech transformed warfare by denying would-be sovereigns the ability to mobilize unanimous, unreflective violence, and that our adversaries hide sabotage behind the First Amendment veil. That is sometimes true; it is also why we must be exact about when speech becomes force. Brandenburg draws that bright line. Beyond that, neutral time‑, place‑, and manner rules apply. You can assemble and shout. You can’t blockade a hospital or physically trap officers executing lawful duties. Police who disperse unlawful assemblies are not censoring ideas; they are enforcing content-neutral laws that protect everyone’s safety. Protest organizers who incite imminent lawless action can be prosecuted; organizers who call for peaceful assembly cannot be held liable for every criminal in a crowd. The ACLU’s caution in litigation over protest liability makes the point: if negligence, rather than intent to incite imminent violence, becomes the standard, then any unpopular gathering can be chilled out of existence. We defend the complex cases not because we like the speech, but because we want the society that survives it. 24 25

Meanwhile, outside the courthouse, the contests spin on. Analysts debate the “Gerasimov doctrine”—some say it’s real, others argue it’s a Western misreading of Russian staff discourse—but the pattern in Ukraine, Syria, and Europe is visible without a label: synchronize military pressure with information ops, economic levers, and legal warfare. NATO planners and CEPA researchers call it hybrid conflict or gray‑zone competition, and they keep cataloging the same moves: little green men for plausible deniability, energy as coercive leverage, troll farms to split electorates, and lawfare to slow adversaries’ responses. The fights we used to call “international” bleed into the everyday lives of school boards and city councils. 26 27

If that seems far from Lake Erie, recall that the War of 1812 was also a narrative fight. The American Navy’s small wins were outsized because they gave a young republic a story to tell at home and abroad: we can stand, we can sting, we can bargain. Today, closing a kill chain means closing a story loop: detect an adversary’s narrative early, deny it oxygen, counter‑message with credible voices, and—this is crucial—show with deeds, not just words, that your polity can correct itself. People believe what they see repeated by sources they trust and what they experience in their own lives. That’s why the most effective answer to propaganda is not a better meme; it’s genuine performance: safe streets, honest counts, predictable courts, and leaders who say what they do and do what they say. RAND’s recent work even contemplates acquiring generative AI for U.S. influence activities—an odd but predictable sign that our own institutions understand the fight has moved upstream into perception and are trying to learn how to be both practical and lawful. That path is mined with ethical tripwires; the only way through is transparency and strictly bounded authorities that keep such tools outward-facing and rights-compliant. 10 28

Where does this leave a South Bass Island heaven of contemplation and literary solitude? Oddly enough, it’s a strategic prescription. The antidote to borderless conflict is sovereign attention: individuals and institutions that can sit still, read deeply, analyze honestly, and act locally. The more our public life rewards speed over orientation, the more we are vulnerable to any actor who can throw sand in our eyes. Boyd would tell a plant manager in Ohio or a mayor in Minneapolis the same thing he said to fighter pilots: out‑observe and out‑orient your adversary. Build teams that can absorb shocks, improvise, and stay lawful under pressure. Channel outrage into order. It sounds dull; it wins wars. 29 30

And on sovereignty as we framed it—whether nations still represent their populations when cartels or captured elites steer policy—the lesson of Lake Erie still applies. You don’t beat distributed, deniable networks by lining up ships on a lake; you deny them social harbors. That means showing citizens that lawful authority answers to them, not to financiers or gangs, and that the ballot, the courtroom, and the market still work better than the street. The social instinct—support internal reformers, protect dissenters from retaliation, expose puppet structures, promise help if people stand up for accountable sovereignty—mirrors the best parts of democratic statecraft. But it only works if we do it at home, in plain sight. When we are credible to our own people, our message travels without being pushed. When we stop reading our own books and start measuring the world only by our team’s hashtags, we become easy to play.

So, yes: there will be carrier groups and drone swarms and—sadly—kinetic fights when deterrence fails. But most of the time, the decisive engagements will look like Minneapolis in January: permissions and permits, street-level restraint, federalism’s friction, cameras at every angle, and a brutal contest to fix the national frame around the footage. The side that wins those fights is the side that keeps faith with the constitution while meeting disorder with measured law, not rage. The country that proves it can do that consistently will be the one whose example invites others to reclaim their sovereignties without a shot—precisely the result Sun Tzu admired: subdue without fighting. 31

When the day’s noise is over, I always go back to the chair at my RV with a full refrigerator of snacks. Roosevelt at twenty-three is still there on the page, arguing with data; Perry is still hauling his flag from Lawrence to Niagara in a small boat; the wind is still fickle; the sun is still low on the water. And you realize that the old war and the new war are both about the same two questions: Who gets to write the story of what just happened? And who still believes it when it’s told?

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Notes

1. Roosevelt’s first book, The Naval War of 1812 (1882), is available in public domain editions and remains influential for its empirical treatment of battles and technology; Roosevelt strove for balance and sometimes criticized American commanders, including Perry. 1 2

2. The Battle of Lake Erie (Sept. 10, 1813): American carronade advantage at close range; Perry’s transfer from Lawrence to Niagara; subsequent British surrender; operational consequences. 3 4

3. Clausewitz: war as a continuation of policy; distinction of tactics and strategy; friction and chance. 7 6

4. Sun Tzu’s maxims on deception and winning without fighting; contemporary U.S. Navy analysis of deception’s centrality. 8 31

5. John Boyd’s OODA loop and the primacy of orientation; primary and secondary sources. 9 29

6. On “fifth‑generation warfare” as contested shorthand for primarily non-kinetically, perception-centric conflict; caution about definitions. 12 13

7. Influence operations/information warfare research: RAND topic hub; USAF analysis on “commanding the trend.” 10 11

8. Empirical work on cyber-enabled information operations and state targeting on social platforms. 15

9. First Amendment incitement standard (Brandenburg v. Ohio); speech versus conduct; time‑, place‑, and manner doctrine in public fora. 16 17

10. Minneapolis 2025–26 ICE operations and protests: broad factual summaries across outlets (AP/PBS, ABC News live updates), noting peaceful and violent episodes, arrests, and competing official narratives. 18 19

11. Litigation and commentary on protest rights and liability of organizers; the chilling‑effect concern. 24

12. Debates over “Gerasimov doctrine” and Russian hybrid warfare; CEPA report and NDU analysis. 26 27

13. Thomas Rid’s argument that “cyber war” hasn’t occurred as such; reclassification as sabotage, espionage, subversion. 20 21

14. Lawrence Freedman’s synthetic account of strategy’s evolution—from mētis to modern information campaigns. 22 23

15. Emerging U.S. doctrinal questions about using generative AI for influence; ethical and legal concerns. 10 28

Select Bibliography & Further Reading

Roosevelt, Theodore. The Naval War of 1812. (Public‑domain eds.; see Project Gutenberg compilation and Library of Congress scans.) 1 32

National Park Service. “The Battle of Lake Erie,” Perry’s Victory & International Peace Memorial (order of battle, armament, range). 3

American Battlefield Trust. “Lake Erie: Facts and Summary.” 33

Clausewitz, Carl von. On War. (Liberty Fund online selections; Princeton translation.) 7 6

Sun Tzu. The Art of War. (Analytical commentaries on deception in modern doctrine.) 8

Boyd, John. “The Essence of Winning and Losing” (1995); secondary treatments of the OODA loop. 9 29

Rid, Thomas. Cyber War Will Not Take Place. Oxford University Press, 2013; 2012 Journal of Strategic Studies article. 20 21

Freedman, Lawrence. Strategy: A History. Oxford University Press, 2013. 22

RAND Corporation. “Information Operations” topic hub and recent reports on influence activities and gray‑zone competition. 10

National Defense University. “Social Media and Influence Operations Technologies” (Strategic Assessment). 14

Prier, Jarred. “Commanding the Trend: Social Media as Information Warfare,” Air & Space Power Journal. 11

Debates on “Gerasimov doctrine” and Russian hybrid warfare: NDU PRISM essay; CEPA report. 26 27

First Amendment landmarks and resources on protest and incitement: Brandenburg v. Ohio (Oyez/Justia). 17 16

Mainstream reportage and live updates on Minneapolis protests and ICE surge (Jan. 2026): PBS/AP; ABC News. 18 19

Rich Hoffman

Click Here to Protect Yourself with Second Call Defense https://www.secondcalldefense.org/?affiliate=20707

The Supreme Court’s Tariff Test: Executive Power, Emergency Statutes, and the Price of Leverage against Constitutional exploitation by foreign interests

The coining of money and the imposition of tariffs represent two interconnected levers of economic sovereignty that the framers of the Constitution intended to place firmly in the hands of the people’s representatives, yet the practical evolution of American governance has exposed persistent vulnerabilities in how these powers are exercised. Article I, Section 8 grants Congress the authority “to coin Money, regulate the Value thereof, and of foreign Coin,” establishing a clear congressional role in monetary matters, while the power to lay and collect duties, imposts, and excises—including tariffs—resides with the legislative branch as a core taxing function. In theory, this framework ensures democratic accountability: elected lawmakers, responsive to voters, would shape both the nation’s currency and its trade policies to protect domestic interests and maintain economic balance.

Yet, over more than two centuries, the regulation of money has slipped through constitutional cracks into an administrative realm dominated by extra-legislative influences. The creation of the Federal Reserve in 1913, while nominally under congressional charter, delegated vast monetary policy authority to a quasi-independent entity influenced by international banking interests and private financial networks. This backdoor arrangement has allowed unelected actors—often aligned with globalist priorities—to leverage America’s economic freedoms in ways that favor concentrated wealth over broad national prosperity. Congress retains oversight in name, but the practical ability to define how money is created, its value regulated, or interest rates set has been diluted, creating a loophole where monetary policy operates beyond direct electoral accountability. The result has been chronic trade imbalances, wealth redistribution upward through financial mechanisms, and a system where banking interests exert disproportionate sway, often at the expense of American workers and industries.

This monetary vacuum stands in stark contrast to the current debates over tariff authority, particularly in the context of recent executive actions upheld as necessary to restore trade equilibrium. While some argue that returning tariff regulation strictly to Congress aligns with separation of powers—emphasizing Congress’s constitutional primacy over taxation and commerce—such a move risks exacerbating existing imbalances. Justices like Chief Justice John Roberts and Justice Amy Coney Barrett have expressed concerns during oral arguments about unchecked executive overreach, questioning broad delegations that could allow presidents to impose sweeping tariffs without clear congressional limits, potentially eroding legislative authority. Roberts highlighted tariffs as fundamentally a form of taxation on Americans, a core congressional power, while Barrett probed whether statutes like the International Emergency Economic Powers Act truly confer such expansive authority, warning against interpretations that grant presidents near-unlimited discretion over imports from any nation.

These concerns about checks and balances are valid on paper, yet they overlook the deeper structural flaw: the Constitution’s under-specified framework for monetary regulation has already permitted centuries of exploitation by unaccountable financial elites. Upholding executive tariff powers in this instance—particularly when used to counter predatory trade practices and rectify persistent deficits—actually enhances overall balance. A strong executive, directly elected and subject to voter judgment every four years, provides a more immediate mechanism for the people’s will to influence financial and trade outcomes. Voters can reward or punish administrations based on tangible results in jobs, wages, and national wealth retention, bypassing the slower, more insulated congressional processes often swayed by lobbying and international pressures.

In contrast, rigid congressional control over tariffs, without addressing the monetary loophole, would likely perpetuate the status quo of unprofitable trade arrangements that have functioned as a stealth wealth pre-distribution scheme favoring global capital over domestic producers. The Trump-era tariffs, by leveraging executive action to force renegotiated deals and protect strategic industries, demonstrate how proactive leadership can begin to correct these distortions more swiftly than fragmented legislative efforts. While Roberts and Barrett rightly guard against executive aggrandizement in general, their emphasis on defined separations should not blind us to the reality that monetary policy’s administrative drift has created far greater long-term vulnerabilities than targeted executive trade interventions. True constitutional fidelity demands closing the money regulation gap—perhaps through renewed congressional assertion or structural reform—while recognizing that a vigorous executive, checked by elections, offers the quickest path to voter-driven corrections in trade and finance. Upholding such executive authority in the tariff realm thus restores a practical balance of power, empowering citizens to regulate their economic destiny more effectively than the current system ever has, and paving the way for genuine, profitable equilibrium in America’s global standing.

In mid-January 2026, the Supreme Court stands on the threshold of a consequential ruling that will define the practical limits of presidential power over trade and the durability of “emergency” tariff programs launched in 2025. The consolidated challenges—captioned in press and policy coverage as Learning Resources, Inc. v. Trump and Trump v. V.O.S. Selections, Inc.—ask whether the International Emergency Economic Powers Act of 1977 (IEEPA) authorizes the President to impose sweeping, global, and “reciprocal” tariffs without new, specific congressional direction. Oral argument on November 5, 2025, suggested significant skepticism from justices across the ideological spectrum about using IEEPA as the legal engine for across-the-board import duties. The Court has not yet issued a decision, after passing on its first January opinion day and again this week. That delay is notable because the Court purposely fast-tracked these cases from the Court of International Trade and the Federal Circuit. 1 2 3 4

The stakes are immediate and measurable. Customs authorities reported more than $200 billion in tariff collections during 2025 under the new suite of executive orders, while estimates of potential refund liability if the IEEPA tariffs fall range from roughly $150 billion upward, depending on how the Court structures remedies. Market and logistics watchers warn that an adverse ruling could trigger a surge in imports as firms rush to capture a “tariff holiday” window before any replacement system comes online. The freight cycle, inventory planning, and pricing strategies across large swaths of the economy will respond quickly to whatever the Court decides. 5 6 7

Here, we want to take a strictly factual, doctrinal, and quantitative approach to the pending decision, as many key players in the process will read it, perhaps ahead of time, to avert a disaster. Few people like the Supreme Court in the world as much as I do; I understand their role in all this very well. But these are history-making circumstances that require unique, new definitions. It (1) outlines the legal question presented and the Court’s apparent lines of concern; (2) catalogs the statutory scaffolding of U.S. tariff authority, distinguishing IEEPA from Section 232 (national security) and Section 301 (unfair practices); (3) quantifies revenue and exposure; (4) compares analogous Supreme Court and lower‑court precedents in the tariff/delegation space; and (5) sketches credible “Plan B” pathways if the Court curtails the 2025 IEEPA program, with attention to timing, procedures, and policy leverage.

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I. What the Court Is Being Asked to Decide

The 2025 tariff program had two pillars: (a) “trafficking” tariffs, tied to fentanyl and illicit drug flows from China, Canada, and Mexico, and (b) “reciprocal” tariffs, including a 10% baseline global duty and higher rates calibrated to perceived imbalances. The Administration grounded both in IEEPA after declaring national emergencies affecting national security, foreign policy, and the economy. The lower courts held that the program exceeded statutory authority, and the Supreme Court granted expedited review. During the argument, justices repeatedly pressed the government for the textual hook in IEEPA authorizing the imposition of general import duties—tariffs—as opposed to targeted sanctions or restrictions. Several also raised the “major questions” and nondelegation doctrines, signaling discomfort with reading an emergency statute to confer a virtually open-ended tariff power, typically associated with Article I, rather than a more specific trade statute. 1 2

Press and legal analyses after the argument captured that mood: both liberal and conservative justices “appeared to cast doubt” on IEEPA’s suitability as a vehicle for comprehensive tariffs, even while recognizing that Congress has, in discrete statutes, granted presidents contingent tariff tools in specific contexts. Reuters and SCOTUSblog, among others, reported that a majority of the Court seemed skeptical that the 1977 law—long used for asset freezes and sanctions—also permitted an across-the-board import duty regime. 3 1

Since January’s first opinion day, the Court has released decisions in other argued cases but has not resolved the tariffs matter—leaving businesses, importers, and government accounts in limbo. Newsrooms tracking the Court’s calendar expect additional opinion days this month; still, no one outside the Court can reliably predict the exact release date of this decision, underscoring the need for scenario planning on both sides of Pennsylvania Avenue. 8 9

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II. The Statutory Map: IEEPA vs. Section 232 vs. Section 301

IEEPA (50 U.S.C. §§ 1701‑1707). Enacted in 1977, IEEPA gives the President broad powers to regulate transactions involving “any property in which any foreign country or a national thereof has any interest” during a declared national emergency tied to national security, foreign policy, or the economy. Historically, administrations used IEEPA for targeted sanctions, asset blocks, and export/import prohibitions directed at specific adversaries or behaviors—not for comprehensive tariff schedules. The text does not use the words “tariff,” “duty,” or “tax.” Those omissions featured prominently in the justices’ questions and in lower‑court opinions that found the 2025 program ultra vires. 10 2

Section 232 (19 U.S.C. § 1862). By contrast, Section 232 expressly allows the President to act—after a Commerce Department investigation and finding—to “adjust” imports that “threaten to impair” national security. The Supreme Court held in Algonquin (1976) that the President may require licenses and impose fees within Section 232’s framework, and, in 2018‑- 2020 litigation, courts rejected nondelegation challenges to the 232 steel/aluminum tariffs. Yet the Court has never squarely blessed the use of IEEPA for general tariffs. Of note, since early 2025, the Administration increased and expanded 232 duties (e.g., raising aluminum to 25%, adding derivative products, eliminating country exemptions), and Commerce/BIS formalized derivative‑coverage procedures—moves that could support a post‑IEEPA “Plan B.” 11 12 13

Section 301 (19 U.S.C. § 2411). Section 301 authorizes the U.S. Trade Representative to investigate and respond to unfair trade practices with duties and other measures—after notice‑and‑comment and findings. The Federal Circuit in 2025 upheld the legality of the 2018‑- 2019 expansions of China 301 tariffs, confirming that 301 provides a durable (if slower) pathway for targeted tariffs. In 2024, USTR completed the statutory four-year review and locked in additional increases on strategic items (e.g., EVs, solar, semiconductors), underscoring that the policy machinery for 301 remains active and court-tested. 14 15

Policy think tanks and trade‑law advisories have, accordingly, framed three tiers of fallback authority if IEEPA tariffs are struck: (1) 232 (national security) investigations and proclamations; (2) 301 (unfair practices) investigations and tariff lists; and (3) narrower legacy tools (e.g., Section 338) in limited contexts. These paths differ sharply in speed, scope, and litigation risk—critical for planning if the Court narrows IEEPA. 16 17

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III. Revenues, Effective Rates, and Refund Exposure

Collections. U.S. Customs and Border Protection (CBP) reported collecting “more than $200 billion” in tariffs between January 20 and December 15, 2025, attributing the surge to “more than 40” executive orders under the tariff program. Independent modeling by the Penn Wharton Budget Model suggests that from January to June 2025 alone, new tariffs raised $58.5 billion in customs revenue and lifted the average effective tariff rate from ~2.2% to ~9.1%, with China-linked flows facing the steepest increases. 5 18

Macro‑budget effects. The Congressional Budget Office (CBO), in an August 2025 update, estimated that if the higher tariff levels persist through 2035, primary deficits would fall by ~$3.3 trillion and total deficits by ~$4.0 trillion, with an ~18‑percentage‑point jump in the effective tariff rate relative to 2024 flows. CBO caveated that these are projections contingent on policy continuity and trade diversion dynamics. 19

Refund risk. Reuters reported companies, customs brokers, and trade counsel bracing for a potential refund fight “approaching $150 billion” if the Court voids IEEPA-based collections, a figure echoed across the trade press. The sheer transaction volume—hundreds of thousands of importers and tens of millions of entries—would make any refund program administratively complex, and CBP quietly prepared for electronic refund processing to take effect in February 2026. 6

Sectoral and logistics impact. Freight analysts warn that a ruling against IEEPA tariffs could quickly boost U.S. inbound volumes, particularly ahead of Lunar New Year and spring replenishment, after a 2025 “rate recession” and inventory drawdowns; Project44’s tariff report cited sharp year-over-year contractions in U.S.–China trade during 2025. A tariff‑pause window—even brief—could spur import front‑loading as firms hedge against whatever successor regime the Administration deploys. 7

Pre‑2025 baselines. To contextualize the 2025 spike, remember that the first-term 301 China tariffs and Section 232 actions already raised annual customs duties to historically high levels, with FY2024 customs receipts around the upper tens of billions. The 2025 additions layered global and reciprocal constructs on top of the existing 301/232 scaffolding, which helps explain the extraordinary jump in CBP collections in late FY2025. 20

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IV. The Doctrinal Frame: Separation of Powers and Trade

The Court’s resolution will likely turn on statutory interpretation sharpened by separation‑of‑powers canons. Three strands matter:

1. Text and structure of IEEPA. IEEPA empowers the President to “investigate, regulate, or prohibit” transactions in foreign‑interest property during a declared emergency. Courts have long treated it as a sanctions statute—powerful, but not a blank check to “lay and collect” duties, a core Article I function typically exercised via detailed tariff statutes. If the government asks the Court to accept a reading that silently authorizes all-purpose tariff authority, skepticism follows. 10 2

2. Major Questions and Nondelegation. Recent terms saw the Court invoke “major questions” to require explicit congressional authorization for actions of vast economic significance. While that doctrine often polices agency interpretations, the logic—demanding a clear statement when the Executive claims vast new powers from old statutes—can carry over to IEEPA. Relatedly, nondelegation concerns lurk: if IEEPA were read to grant open-ended tariff authority, would that constitute an impermissible transfer of legislative power? Oral argument reflected precisely these themes. 2

3. Trade precedents: Algonquin, AIIS, and Transpacific. The Supreme Court in Algonquin upheld a then-current version of Section 232 and found no nondelegation problem where Congress set a process keyed to national security findings. More recently, the Federal Circuit in American Institute for International Steel rejected a facial nondelegation attack on Section 232 steel tariffs, and the Supreme Court denied certiorari. In Transpacific Steel, the Federal Circuit addressed the timing and scope of Section 232 and again denied review. Those decisions underscore that Congress can and does arm presidents with tariff levers—but by statute‑and by specific design. That makes the IEEPA controversy distinct: the question is not whether presidents may ever levy tariffs, but whether this emergency statute authorizes these tariffs, absent the procedural guardrails and more explicit statements found in 232/301. 11 21 22

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V. If the Court Narrows IEEPA: Practical Plan‑B Pathways

Almost every serious brief and policy memo anticipates that an IEEPA loss would prompt tariff-makers to seek other authorities. The key considerations are speed, scope, and justiciability:

A. Section 232 (Trade Expansion Act).

Speed & process. A Commerce investigation, public comment, and report precede presidential action; “emergency‑fast” still means 60–90+ days, and complex cases can run longer. Scope. Security tethered and product-specific, but the 2025 expansions (including autos/parts and derivatives) show how 232 can reach large value streams—litigation risk. Algonquin remains a pillar, and AIIS / Transpacific litigation history suggests courts tolerate 232 if process and findings are followed. Operationally, Commerce/BIS’s 2025 inclusions process and expanded derivative codes would make a rapid, well-documented reprise feasible. 17 12 13

B. Section 301 (Trade Act).

Speed & process. Investigations are procedurally heavier (petitions, hearings, findings); typical timelines are measured in months, not weeks. Scope. Country‑ or practice‑specific (e.g., PRC IP/tech transfer), not a global baseline—litigation risk. The 2018–2019 expansions survived appellate scrutiny in 2025, reinforcing 301’s staying power for targeted regimes. Operationally, USTR’s 2024 four-year review and targeted increases in strategic sectors provide ready-to-deploy playbooks. 14 15

C. Hybrid and interim measures.

Refund/off‑ramp management. If the Court invalidates IEEPA tariffs, it may or may not dictate the mechanics of refunds. CBP planned electronic refunds beginning February 6, 2026, but Treasury and Justice could seek limiting constructions (e.g., net‑of‑pass-through, documentation thresholds) to moderate fiscal impact—market signaling. Agencies could announce immediate 232/301 initiations to compress any “holiday” window, dampening import surges and price whipsaw—foreign‑policy posture. Even in the absence of IEEPA, the Administration can combine export controls, procurement preferences, and inbound investment screening to maintain leverage while 232/301 spools up. 6 17

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VI. If the Court Upholds IEEPA Tariffs: What That Would Mean

A win for the government would validate a novel reading of IEEPA as a general‑tariff instrument during a declared emergency. That would preserve the Administration’s preferred speed and scope and keep the reciprocal/baseline design intact. But it would also mark a meaningful shift in the balance of‑powers in trade, making the White House—any White House—the central actor for broad import duties absent new congressional limits. Expect reactions on several fronts:

• Congressional recalibration. A decision upholding IEEPA tariffs could spur bipartisan efforts to cabin emergency powers in trade, as we saw with attempts to reform Section 232 post-2018. 10

• Global response. Trading partners could challenge IEEPA-based tariffs at the WTO or retaliate; retaliatory cycles would depend on the scope, carve-outs, and negotiation dynamics. (Press coverage has already tied 2025 tariff moves to escalating global trade uncertainty.) 23

• Domestic litigation. Even with a green light from IEEPA authority, commodity‑ – or country-specific challenges would continue (e.g., exemptions, product coverage, due process), as seen under 232/301. 12 14

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VII. The “Checks and Balances” Debate: Courts vs. Elections vs. Congress

This case has revived a perennial question: where are the real checks on economic power—in the elected presidency (via election cycles), in Congress’s Article I tariff prerogatives, or in judicially enforced statutory limits? On one side, skeptics of judicial intervention argue that a president elected on a mandate to renegotiate trade relationships should retain leverage tools—tariffs included—to force outcomes that Congress could not or would not legislate. On the other hand, the Constitution assigns tariff-taxing power to Congress, and emergency statutes like IEEPA are not presumed to displace that allocation absent clear text. The Court’s doctrinal trend—major questions, limits on agency adventurism—leans toward requiring Congress to speak plainly when it wishes to authorize sweeping economic moves. Oral argument reflected this balance: the justices queried whether IEEPA’s “regulate or prohibit” language could bear the weight of a global tariff system without a more specific, contemporary congressional say. 2 1

If the Court narrows IEEPA here, that doesn’t foreclose robust tariff policy; it pushes the Executive to use trade-specific statutes (232/301) that incorporate the processes and findings Congress designed. The Administration has plainly anticipated this outcome, and policy analyses across the spectrum acknowledge multiple “Plan B‑F” tracks already sketched out. The question is timing: how quickly can those processes be triggered to avoid leverage loss and economic whiplash if IEEPA collections stop? 17 16

Although Article I gives Congress authority “to coin Money [and] regulate the Value thereof,” the Constitution leaves the modern mechanics of monetary governance—and the interaction between domestic liquidity, cross‑border finance, and trade accounts—to a sprawling lattice of statutes and administrative actors developed long after the Founding. That institutional reality has produced a practical “administrative gap”: global banking and market infrastructures can shape capital flows and relative prices faster than Congress can legislate, yet courts lack obvious textual hooks to referee those dynamics ex ante. In that setting, shifting all broad tariff levers back to Congress may vindicate separation‑of‑powers in theory while still leaving intact the back‑door channels through which financial interests exert pressure on trade outcomes in practice. The constitutional allocation of tariff power and the constitutional silence on contemporary monetary intermediation simply do not map one‑to‑one.

Chief Justice Roberts and Justice Barrett have signaled, in different contexts, a premium on clear lines: Congress writes the big rules; the Executive executes those rules; courts enforce the boundaries. If they cabin IEEPA on that basis, they will reinforce an elegant blueprint—but they will not, by doing so, resolve the persistent vulnerability created by the Constitution’s sparse treatment of modern money and market plumbing. A strong, election‑checked Executive tariff tool operates as a direct, voter‑responsive counterweight to those vulnerabilities: it allows the White House to alter relative prices at the border in real time when global financing channels or state‑capitalist rivals tilt the playing field. In that sense, upholding the 2025 tariff architecture would not erase Congress’s role; it would supply a democratic “fast gear” that complements Congress’s slower, statute‑driven “torque.”

Nor is this an argument for unbounded presidential discretion. The point is that, where monetary and financial influences can exploit gaps the Framers could not fully specify, a court‑affirmed executive tariff lever—subject to judicial review for statutory fit and to electoral review by the public—can restore a measure of balance that monetary‑policy lawmaking alone has not delivered. For Roberts and Barrett, who prize administrable limits, the question is whether a narrowed but viable emergency‑trade instrument can coexist with Congress’s trade statutes to keep power distributed across branches and, critically, responsive to voters. Preserving that instrument would give citizens a more immediate say over how the United States defends its terms of trade—something the Constitution’s money clauses, standing alone, have never been able to guarantee.

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VIII. Quantifying What’s at Risk—Short‑Run and Long‑Run

Short‑run (next 90‑180 days).

Revenue. A ‑less adverse decision could halt IEEPA collections immediately, potentially opening a short “free trade” interval before 232/301 measures kick in. That’s particularly salient with seasonal ordering cycles (apparel, consumer durables, autos) already in motion—trade volumes. Logistics managers expect a near-term import bounce if duties drop, especially in categories hit with elevated 2025 rates—fiscal exposure. Refund claims processing—if ordered—would begin amid questions of pass-through and interest. 7 6

Medium‑run (6‑18 months).

Replacement architecture. A sequenced deployment—232 for strategic categories (steel, aluminum, autos/parts, strategic minerals), 301 refreshes for PRC practices—could reconstruct much of the leverage with more procedural guardrails—market adaptation. Effective rates would likely settle below IEEPA’s 2025 peaks but above pre-2018 levels, depending on scope and carve-outs. Budget path. CBO’s $4 trillion decade-long deficit effect is explicitly conditional; a narrower regime reduces that top line. 12 15 19

Long‑run (multi-year).

Precedent. A Supreme Court ruling limiting IEEPA for tariffs would set an enduring boundary between “sanctions-style” emergency tools and the tariff‑taxing power, nudging big trade choices back toward Congress or trade-specific delegations—institutional response. Expect Congress to revisit emergency‑powers statutes and tariff‑process statutes, and expect administrations of both parties to plan with 232/301 front‑of‑mind for large-scale tariffs. 10

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IX. Comparable Cases and Lessons

Three bodies of law are particularly instructive:

1. National‑security-linked tariff actions: Algonquin (1976) validated a 232 regime embedded in executive‑branch investigation and findings. Later challenges to 232 (2018–2022) failed on nondelegation grounds (AIIS) and on procedural‑timing theories (Transpacific), with SCOTUS denying cert. The through‑line: Congress can delegate tariff levers when it provides intelligible principles and procedures; courts tend to defer if the statute is specific and the Executive follows the steps. 11 21 22

2. Trade‑remedy statutes with administrative processes: Section 301 litigation in 2018–2025 resulted in a Federal Circuit decision upholding USTR’s authority to modify and expand China tariff lists. These cases show courts accept robust tariff countermeasures when Congress built the pathway and agencies compile the record. 14

3. Emergency powers repurposed for fiscal instruments: The novelty of using IEEPA to impose a generalized tariff schedule is what attracted the Court’s scrutiny. Post‑Loper Bright (Chevron’s demise), claims of broad executive power from ambiguous statutes face a steeper climb—especially when the asserted authority has vast economic consequences, and Congress has enacted detailed, alternative tariff statutes. 2

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X. A Practical Note on Implementation, Regardless of Outcome

Whatever the decision, implementation choices will shape real-world impact:

• If IEEPA is curtailed: The Court could (a) invalidate prospectively, (b) remand with guidance while staying the mandate to allow transition, or (c) order broader remedies affecting past collections. A stay or phase‑out would blunt immediate shocks, though not remove refund fights. Agencies will likely announce rapid 232/301 steps to signal continuity of trade policy objectives. 6 17

• If IEEPA is upheld: Expect challenges to particular rates, categories, and exemptions, and congressional moves to refine emergency trade powers. International countermoves are likely. Agencies may still shift some weight to 232/301 to reduce litigation exposure while keeping IEEPA as a backstop. 23 12

—

The Court’s pending tariffs decision is not a referendum on whether the United States may use tariffs as leverage; it is a statutory and constitutional inquiry into which branch authorizes what, and under which law. If the justices read IEEPA narrowly—as the argument hints—they will be vindicating Congress’s primacy over tariff design while leaving the Executive ample room to pursue similar objectives through Section 232 and Section 301. Those alternatives are slower and more procedurally demanding, but they anchor policy in text and precedent the Court has historically respected. But it will cost a tremendous amount of revenue our country desperately needs, with no real recourse to fill the hole with a path forward.

From a policy‑operations standpoint, the Administration’s leverage need not evaporate with an IEEPA loss; it would, however, require a disciplined pivot to trade‑specific authorities and a careful choreography to avoid a damaging “shock‑gap” in collections and bargaining power. Conversely, an IEEPA win would secure maximum executive flexibility, while likely triggering congressional oversight and international friction that would re-enter the calculus.

Either outcome will echo beyond this term. It will signal how the Roberts Court balances emergency‑power claims against Congress’s Article I prerogatives in the economic sphere—an area where the Court has lately demanded clear legislative statements for actions of significant significance. That signal will guide not just tariff policy in 2026, but the larger architecture of U.S. economic statecraft in the years ahead. 1

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Footnotes

1. Oral‑argument coverage and analysis emphasizing skepticism toward IEEPA tariffs: SCOTUSblog argument analysis; Holland & Knight post‑argument alert. 1 2

2. Docket timing and opinion‑day reporting indicating no tariff opinion yet and next windows: Reuters; USA Today; SCOTUSblog live coverage. 3 8 4

3. Overview of the 2025 tariff program and legal challenges: Reuters; The Center Square case roundup. 3 24

4. CBP 2025 collections announcement; PWBM practical rate analysis through June 2025. 5 18

5. CBO macro‑budget projections (Aug. 22, 2025). 19

6. Refund exposure and CBP’s electronic refund posture: Reuters; related trade‑press. 6

7. Logistics and freight impacts; evidence of 2025 bilateral contraction: CNBC trade‑volume preview. 7

8. Section 232 legal and policy background (Cong. Research Service); BIS derivative‑coverage rule; proclamations and expansions (2025). 12 13

9. Section 301 four-year review and 2024 increases (USTR/press), plus 2025 Fed. Cir. ruling on 2018–2019 expansions. 15 14

10. Historic Section 232 litigation: AIIS (cert denied); Transpacific (cert denied); Algonquin (Supreme Court). 21 22

11. IEEPA statutory analysis and CRS Legal Sidebar summarizing lower‑court holdings in Learning Resources / V.O.S. Selections. 10

12. Alternative‑authority mapping (Atlantic Council; GovFacts). 16 17

13. Continuing press chronology of January opinion‑day expectations and non-decisions. 8 9

—

Bibliography (selected)

• Primary Legal & Congressional Analyses

• Congressional Research Service, Court Decisions Regarding Tariffs Imposed Under IEEPA (LSB11332, Sept. 15, 2025). 10

• CRS Insight, Expanded Section 232 Tariffs on Steel and Aluminum (IN12519, Sept. 26, 2025). 12

• U.S. Dept. of Commerce/BIS, Adoption and Procedures of the Section 232 Steel and Aluminum Tariff Inclusions Process (Federal Register notice, Aug. 19, 2025). 13

• Supreme Court & Appellate Cases

• Fed. Energy Admin. v. Algonquin SNG, Inc., 426 U.S. 548 (1976). (discussed in sources). 11

• American Institute for International Steel v. United States, 806 F. App’x 982 (Fed. Cir. 2020), cert. denied, 141 S. Ct. 133 (2020). 21 11

• Transpacific Steel LLC v. United States, 4 F.4th 1306 (Fed. Cir. 2021), cert. denied, 142 S. Ct. 1414 (2022). 22 25

• Oral‑Argument & Docket Coverage

• SCOTUSblog, Court appears dubious of Trump’s tariffs (Nov. 5, 2025); No tariff opinion (Jan. 9, 2026). 1 4

• Reuters/US News & World Report, Supreme Court Plans Rulings … as Trump awaits fate of tariffs (Jan. 9, 2026). 3

• USA Today / NorthJersey, scheduling explainers (Jan. 14–15, 2026). 9 8

• Revenue, Rates, and Market Impact

• CBP, Record-breaking $200 billion in tariff revenue (Dec. 16, 2025). 5

• CBO, An Update About CBO’s Projections of the Budgetary Effects of Tariffs (Aug. 22, 2025). 19

• Penn Wharton Budget Model, Effective Tariff Rates and Revenues (through June 2025) (Aug. 14, 2025). 18

• Reuters, Importers brace for $150 billion refund fight if Trump loses at Supreme Court (Jan. 8, 2026). 6

• CNBC, Freight trade could hinge on decision; no tariff opinion issued Jan. 14 (Jan. 14, 2026). 7

• Alternative Authority & Policy Options

• Atlantic Council, The Supreme Court might slow Trump’s strategy. But he still has other tariff options (Nov. 7, 2025). 16

• GovFacts, Alternative Legal Paths for Tariffs If the Supreme Court Strikes Down IEEPA Use (Jan. 13, 2026). 17

• USTR, Four-Year Review of Section 301 (China) – report and 2024 action. 26 15

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Supplemental: Quick Reference Data Points

• Collections under 2025 programs: $200 billion+ (Jan 20–Dec 15, 2025), per CBP. 5

• Projected refund exposure if IEEPA tariffs fall: ≈$150 billion (Reuters est.). 6

• Effective tariff rate shift (Jan→Jun 2025): ~2.2% → ~9.1% (PWBM). 18

• CBO 10-year deficit change if 2025 tariffs persist: −$4.0 trillion total deficits. 19

• Procedural pace—232: 60–90+ days for investigation/report before proclamation (faster than 301). 17

• Procedural pace—301: months (notice, hearing, findings), but durable against litigation. 14

Rich Hoffman

Click Here to Protect Yourself with Second Call Defense https://www.secondcalldefense.org/?affiliate=20707

Why It’s Cool for Trump To Give the Middle Finger to People, But Not for Cindy Carpenter: The difference between deceit and honesty

The perceived double standard in public reactions to similar gestures by public figures often stems not from the act itself but from the context, intent, and perceived authenticity of the individual involved. In late 2025, Butler County Commissioner Cindy Carpenter visited the office of Level 27, a student housing apartment complex near Miami University in Oxford, Ohio, amid a rent dispute involving her granddaughter, who resided there. During the encounter, Carpenter became frustrated with the staff’s handling of the situation, raised her voice, and—when she believed she was alone and unobserved—made an obscene gesture (flipping off the empty front counter) while mouthing an expletive, as captured on surveillance video. The apartment manager filed a complaint alleging intimidation, racist remarks, belligerent behavior, and abuse of power, though a subsequent investigation by Butler County Prosecutor Mike Gmoser cleared her of official misconduct.

This incident drew significant local criticism, portraying Carpenter as entitled and leveraging her position as a county commissioner to pressure private employees for personal family gain. Critics described her as embodying a “Karen” archetype—someone who weaponizes authority or status when not getting their way—mainly since the gesture occurred passively and covertly, behind the backs of those involved after they had turned away.

In contrast, on January 13, 2026, President Donald Trump toured the Ford River Rouge Complex in Dearborn, Michigan, as part of efforts to highlight manufacturing and economic policies. During the visit, a worker heckled him from the plant floor, shouting “pedophile protector”—a reference to criticisms surrounding Trump’s past associations with Jeffrey Epstein and the administration’s handling of related document releases. Trump, walking on an elevated area, turned, mouthed an expletive (appearing to say “f— you”), and raised his middle finger directly at the heckler before continuing. The White House defended the response as “appropriate and unambiguous” to what they called a “lunatic… wildly screaming expletives in a complete fit of rage.”

The Ford worker was later suspended, and while some condemned Trump’s gesture as unpresidential, many supporters viewed it positively as a bold, unfiltered rejection of antagonism. The key distinctions lie in several factors. First, Trump’s action was a direct, face-to-face response to active heckling during a public tour where he was not seeking personal favors but representing broader interests—such as supporting American manufacturing and workers. Many observers see this as authentic: Trump has long cultivated an image of unapologetic directness, consistent whether cameras are rolling or not. He was not attempting to extract a concession or intimidate subordinates for private gain; he was dismissing an insult while moving on to his next engagement.

Carpenter’s gesture, however, appeared passive-aggressive and concealed—she performed it when backs were turned, and she thought no one (including cameras) was watching, only to be caught on surveillance. This revealed a discrepancy between her public persona as a dedicated public servant focused on families and communities and her private frustration. The incident involved using her official title to influence a private business matter concerning family, which amplified perceptions of entitlement and abuse of position. Even though both acts involved the same crude gesture, the surrounding circumstances rendered them qualitatively different: one as a raw, representative dismissal of hostility, the other as a tantrum from perceived privilege.

Public tolerance for such behavior often hinges on authenticity and representation. When a leader acts consistently—openly embodying the frustrations of those they serve—the same act can be celebrated as “real” or “standing up.” When it exposes hypocrisy or self-serving motives, it invites disdain. In a republic, elected officials are expected to wield power responsibly for the public good, not personal leverage. Trump’s pre-office persona as a straightforward businessman carried over into politics, allowing supporters to see his gesture as aligned with their own impulses against critics. Carpenter’s action, tied to a family dispute and hidden until exposed, reinforced doubts.

Ultimately, the difference is not that one figure “gets away with” the gesture while the other does not due to partisan bias alone. It is the context of intent, directness, and whether the act serves personal entitlement or a broader representational role. True character emerges in moments of pressure, especially when one believes no one is watching. Failing that test of consistency undermines credibility far more than the gesture itself. What actions like this reveal about the people involved is how they really think about the world around them. With Carpenter, we see what she thinks about people she disagrees with, because she thought nobody was looking. But with Trump, he gave his heckler the finger to his face, not caring who saw, or what they might think of him. One incident of giving the finger made a politician look like an unhinged “Karen” throwing a temper tantrum that she didn’t have the guts to show to people’s faces. The other was cool, and a proper fighting back at the moment, without the usual calculated political response people have grown tired of. And in the end, the gestures showed voters who the people really were. So it’s not a double standard where Trump can get away with it because he’s a man, and Cindy can’t because she’s a woman. But because one of those politicians is honest, while the other one is deceitful, power hungry, and a train wreck of a person. And figuring all that out is sometimes just as easy as a simple hand gesture.

The contrast becomes even starker when considering the aftermath of each incident. In Carpenter’s case, the surveillance footage—showing her gesture directed at an empty counter after staff had walked away—fueled calls for her resignation from political opponents ahead of the May 2026 Republican primary. Challengers like Hamilton councilman Michael Ryan seized on the event to portray her as embodying a pattern of arrogance and entitlement, with one opponent explicitly labeling it as part of a broader “bias, arrogance, and abuse of power.” Even after Prosecutor Mike Gmoser cleared her of legal misconduct in early December 2025, the damage lingered in public opinion, reinforcing narratives of a two-faced politician whose private frustrations betray a cultivated public image of community service. This revelation of inconsistency erodes the foundational trust voters place in representatives: if the mask slips when unobserved, what other discrepancies exist in policy or decision-making?

At its root, the perceived double standard is less about partisan favoritism and more about the alignment between action and identity. Public figures are judged not solely on isolated behaviors but on whether those behaviors cohere with the narrative they project and the interests they claim to serve. Trump’s pre-political life as a blunt, unfiltered dealmaker provided a consistent backdrop; his gesture fit seamlessly into that continuity, even if it shocked traditional decorum. Carpenter’s long tenure—clerk of courts from 1996-2010, commissioner since 2011—has emphasized family values, community initiatives, and fiscal responsibility, making the covert outburst appear as a betrayal of that facade. In a republic, voters demand representatives who embody reliability under pressure, particularly when power is involved. When a leader’s conduct varies based on audience or visibility, it signals a deeper unreliability that invites skepticism far beyond one crude gesture.

Footnotes

¹ Butler County Prosecutor Mike Gmoser, report on complaint against Commissioner Cindy Carpenter, as summarized in Journal-News coverage, December 3, 2025.

² Kiara Nard, Level 27 community manager, complaint details reported in WKRC Local 12, December 4, 2025.

³ Cindy Carpenter, statement to Journal-News, December 2025.

⁴ Video footage from Ford River Rouge Complex tour, January 13, 2026, as reported by TMZ and Reuters.

⁵ White House statement via Steven Cheung, January 13-14, 2026.

⁶ United Auto Workers and Ford responses, January 14, 2026.

Bibliography

• Journal-News. “Prosecutor clears Butler County commissioner of misconduct after apartment dispute.” December 3, 2025. https://www.journal-news.com/news/prosecutor-clears-butler-county-commissioner-of-misconduct-after-apartment-dispute/LXCURTXAMJFV5FP7W25HM62NKQ

• WKRC Local 12. “Butler County commissioner cleared of misconduct despite heated exchange caught on camera.” December 4, 2025. https://local12.com/news/local/butler-county-commissioner-cleared-misconduct-despite-heated-exchange-caught-camera-cindy-carpenter-oxford-ohio-miami-university-apartment-building-staff-racial-racist-language-accused-political-office-obscene-gesture-cincinnati

• ClickOnDetroit. “Video shows Trump flipping off Ford worker during plant visit in Dearborn.” January 13, 2026. https://www.clickondetroit.com/news/local/2026/01/13/video-shows-trump-flipping-off-ford-worker-during-plant-visit-in-dearborn

• Reuters. “Trump flips off Michigan auto worker who criticized handling of Epstein case.” January 14, 2026. https://www.reuters.com/world/trump-flips-off-antagonizing-worker-ford-plant-michigan-2026-01-14

• The Washington Post. “Trump makes obscene gesture, mouths expletive at Detroit factory heckler.” January 16, 2026. https://www.washingtonpost.com/politics/2026/01/13/trump-ford-factory-heckler-detroit

• Additional context from Cincinnati.com and Michigan Advance reports on the respective incidents.

Rich Hoffman

Click Here to Protect Yourself with Second Call Defense https://www.secondcalldefense.org/?affiliate=20707

The Flat Earth Conspiracy: Giants, Antarctica, and the Occult of NASA, hiding behind noise to conceal the real menace

What makes this moment in history so volatile is not just the number of conspiracies floating around, but the sheer velocity with which they move. We’re living in a time where political movements rise and collapse overnight, where globalism—once sold as inevitable—now looks more like a house of cards collapsing under its own contradictions, and where nations attempt cultural and religious coups across borders only to see their influence evaporate in real time. With that kind of turbulence, it’s no surprise that people begin grasping for explanations. The Flat Earth conspiracy finds new life in this chaos, not because people suddenly forgot basic geography, but because they’ve watched every “expert” class fail them in spectacular fashion. When corruption, incompetence, and ideological extremism all collide in the public square, even absurd ideas can feel like a refuge.

And there’s a cruel irony in how this particular conspiracy works. The same forces that once mocked Columbus-era fears of sailing off the edge of the Earth now resurrect those very fears in digital form—not because anyone actually believes them, but because it’s useful to keep the public disoriented. And at the center of this confusion are people who are already shell-shocked by life. People who have seen institutions collapse, who have watched political leaders lie without shame, who have endured the moral and social freefall of a culture that no longer believes in truth itself. For those people, turning to Scripture isn’t foolish—it’s noble. It’s what people do when the world becomes too unstable to trust. And I don’t fault them for that. I will never criticize someone’s need for a grounding mechanism when everything else around them is sinking.

But that’s exactly where the manipulators strike. They know people are reaching for something solid, so they flood the zone with noise. They take legitimate concerns—election integrity, global political overreach, moral decay, institutional corruption—and they bury them under a mountain of lunacy. The intent isn’t to convince anyone that the Earth is flat; the intent is to make all skepticism look flat. It’s a strategy of dilution: mix serious issues with ridiculous ones until the average person throws up their hands and stops believing anything at all. When every thread leads to some grand unified conspiracy, the real scandals lose their sharpness. And that’s the point. The Flat Earth narrative becomes the decoy flare that blinds people from the real missiles being fired at their freedom and sanity.

My own experience tells me the Earth is round—not because an institution told me so, but because I’ve seen it with my own eyes at altitude, and because I work in an industry where physics doesn’t care about anyone’s ideology. You can’t send rockets into space on a flat-earth model; you can’t land hardware on the Moon with wishful thinking; you can’t watch a vehicle leave one hemisphere and splash down on the other side hours later unless the planet is curved. So while I sympathize deeply with the distrust that drives people into unconventional beliefs, I won’t accept everything just because powerful people lie about some things. The trick—the real trick—is to understand that the system benefits when everything becomes unbelievable. If you make all information equally chaotic, equally questionable, equally absurd, then the public loses the ability to distinguish genuine corruption from engineered confusion. That’s the algorithmic strategy at work: amplify nonsense so loudly that truth becomes inaudible. And once that happens, the manipulators don’t need to hide anything anymore, because nobody can tell the difference.

Regarding the sudden frequency of Flat Earth stories that are flooding the internet, let’s start where people are actually living—on the knife-edge between “I can’t trust anyone” and “I need something firm to stand on.” After COVID, many good people feel the world really let them down. Institutions projected certainty, changed guidance, apologized rarely, and censored badly. Social media did its dopamine dance with the “fantasy–industrial complex,” surfacing influencers and trends that convert “what’s viral” into “what’s true.” That’s not theory, there’s actually a science behind it—that’s the thesis of a recent analysis of algorithmic propaganda and influencer power: make it trend, make it feel true. [1] 1 And what trends today? Flat earth. Young earth. Giants under the mounds. Antarctica is for no one because everyone secretly owns it. NASA is occult because Jack Parsons loved Crowley. Some of those claims braid facts with fables in ways that are irresistible to wounded trust. Others are pure noise. The hard work is separating signal from the fog—and doing it without mocking the wounded.

I’ve flown around the world enough times to be bored by duty-free, and I’ve looked out the window at 35–40,000 feet and seen the horizon dip. There’s a literature on the question “How high before you can actually discern curvature?” It’s not magic; it’s geometry, optics, and the field of view. Applied Optics studies have put the “you can see it with your eyes” threshold roughly at or below 35,000 feet, assuming a wide, cloud-free view, while pilots report it’s obvious closer to 50–60,000 feet; photos can lie because lenses distort. [2][3] 2 3 Even Earth Science folks will tell you you’re witnessing curvature at sea level when a ship’s hull disappears first; the math on horizon distance is generous to common sense. [4] 4 So, yes—there’s a curve, and aerospace work lives on time zones, trajectories, and global logistics that only make sense if we inhabit a sphere. Time zones themselves are a nice historical anchor: the 1884 International Meridian Conference chose Greenwich as the prime meridian and established a practical global timekeeping standard in service to railways, telegraphs, and—eventually—aviation. [5][6][7][8] 5 6 7 8

Still, I get why Flat Earth finds oxygen. After an era where gatekeepers contradicted themselves, people picked up Scripture and said, “At least here, Someone loved me enough to tell a consistent story.” I don’t begrudge that. In fact, I like that more people are reading the Bible. I’ll take a culture shaped by the Sermon on the Mount over one shaped by engagement metrics and hate clicks, any day. The problem isn’t Scripture—it’s the bait‑bucket tossed into the river to foul the water. Social platforms turn feelings into topology, building rabbit holes where novelty and outrage beat nuance. Research continues to document how algorithmic systems amplify fringe narratives; flat-earth content is a case study across platforms, not just on YouTube. [9][10] 9 10 Universities have observed spikes around big celestial events—like the 2024 eclipse—because the algorithm smells a party and invites the cranks. [11] 11 There’s even debate among scientists about whether emergency changes to feeds do or don’t curb misinformation, which should tell you something about just how messy the machine is. [12] 12

So let’s walk through the constellation of claims and separate elements that are true, elements that are too often misused, and elements that are weaponized nonsense.

Jack Parsons first. Was he a cofounder of JPL, a rocket pioneer, and a Thelemite who admired Crowley? Yes. That’s the historical record. [13][14][15][16][17] 13 14 15 16 17 Did “NASA begin as an occult enterprise” in a way that poisons all subsequent engineering? No. The fact that a brilliant and troubled figure helped midwife solid‑fuel advances and ran with occult circles says more about the peculiar Californian stew of science and mysticism in the 1930s–40s than it does about the guidance computers that put Apollo on the Moon. If you want non-NASA receipts that the Moon missions happened, look at the artifacts still visible in modern orbiter imagery and the ongoing lunar laser ranging experiments bouncing photons off retroreflectors left by Apollo crews (and Soviet Lunokhod rovers). [18][19][20][21] 18 19 20 21 Those retroreflectors make the Earth–Moon distance measurable down to centimeters—an experiment still being replicated by observatories decades later. This isn’t “trust us,” it’s physics your own team can instrument. [22] 22

Antarctica next. Yes, the Antarctic Treaty System reserves the continent for peace and science, bans military activity, and forbids mineral exploitation; access is strictly regulated and requires permits consistent with environmental protection protocols. [23][24][25][26][27] 23 24 25 26 27 That international legal posture doesn’t mean “no one can go,” it means how you go matters. Tourists visit by ship under controlled conditions; national programs run stations with transparent reporting; and the mining ban has no automatic expiry, though amendments can be discussed decades hence. [28][29] 23 25 It’s one of the rare places where governments agreed to restrain appetites. Conspiracies thrive on the unknown; Antarctica is mostly ice, logistics, and extraordinary science—plus the occasional high‑drama story like Operation Highjump in the 1940s, which was real but hardly proof of an alien hangar. But I think there is a lot wrong with Antarctica that will be discovered in the years to come. [30] 24

Giants and mounds in Ohio—now we’re home. I love the mounds. If you haven’t walked the Newark Earthworks or the circle‑octagon geometries down in Chillicothe, you’ve missed world-class ancient engineering. UNESCO recognized the Hopewell Ceremonial Earthworks in 2023 as a World Heritage Site for a reason: these are precise, cosmic-aligned earth monuments built 1,600–2,000 years ago, with trade connections spanning Yellowstone to Florida. [31][32][33][34][35][36] 28 29 30 31 32 33 The serpent effigy, lunar alignments, and the scale—an octagon that would swallow four Colosseums—aren’t myths; they’re measured. [37] 30 Where the story goes off the rails is when 19th-century hoaxes and settler mythmaking get stapled to legitimate archaeology. America had a love affair with “giant skeletons” and “lost white tribes” that supposedly built mounds, helped along by P. T. Barnum-style frauds and credulous newspapers. Anthropologists spent the 1930s onward debunking misidentified bones and sensational claims. [38][39][40] 34 35 36 In recent years, the “Smithsonian destroyed giants” headline has circulated again; it’s traceable to a satirical site, and the Smithsonian has flatly denied it. [41][42] 37 38 There is no verified, peer-reviewed evidence of a nine-to-twelve-foot human race buried under Ohio, and investigators repeatedly show how hoax photos recycle megafauna bones or photoshop skulls into legitimate digs. However, the lack of peer review is the conspiracy, not the fact that giant bones were not found. Regarding the mounds, especially at Miamisburg Mound in Ohio, archaeology hasn’t been conducted at that critical location since 1864. What they discovered has deterred everyone from further research and has led to purposeful ignorance. [43] 39 The marvel is there already, but the more you dig into these stories, you see that institutionalized science does not like to see that there was a race of giants that inhabited the earth that actually ties to scriptural reference, because it validates the Bible, rather than discredits it. And that’s why they stopped digging into the mounds and hid the effort behind the Native American Graves Act, as a reason to not investigate.

Now, Scripture. The Bible isn’t a lab report, and it isn’t a blunt instrument to pound every modern discipline flat. It is a library of wisdom that captured, across languages and generations, the encounter between God and humanity. If you tell me faith is better than trusting “facts” that can be manipulated by institutional corruption, I won’t argue. Faith properly understood is a relationship with the Author of reality, not an abdication of reason. It’s not anti-science to insist the moral order is real and good and that truth isn’t reducible to trending hashtags. Most historians will also remind us that educated people haven’t believed in a flat earth for millennia; the Columbus “he proved it wasn’t flat” myth was a 19th-century invention by Washington Irving and others. [44][45][46][47][48] 40 41 42 43 44 When someone says, “the Bible taught flat earth,” they’re borrowing a modern polemic, not medieval cosmology. A robust faith doesn’t need fake enemies.

COVID changed the rules of engagement. Platforms were suddenly asked to police truth at scale. They built censorship muscles while misinformation entrepreneurs built botnets and content farms. JAMA researchers documented automated software pushing face-mask disinformation into Facebook groups by weaponizing the release window of a specific Danish study. [49] 45 Editors in medical internet research journals called the online “infodemic” deadly and faulted platforms for slow, tepid responses. [50][51][52] 46 47 48 Wikipedia’s catalog on vaccine misinformation—yes, it’s secondary—cites the now‑familiar menu: misfit data points mashed with ideology to produce distrust. [53] 49 The consequence is not merely political; it’s spiritual. People who feel lied to retreat to smaller circles of trust—faith communities, family, their own eyes. Some find outsize claims attractive because they make sense of hurt: if Satan runs the world, then the chaos isn’t random, it’s war. I’ll grant the war. But war requires discipline.

Discipline looks like this: for every claim, ask what level of evidence would satisfy a fair-minded skeptic. Moon landings? Physical artifacts, independent imaging, and live experiments—done. [54][55][56][57] 18 20 19 21 Earth’s shape? Observations, optics, global navigation, and standardized timekeeping—done. [58][59][60] 4 2 5 Antarctica? Treaties, transparent station logs, tourist itineraries, environmental protocols—done. [61][62][63] 23 24 25 Mounds? UNESCO dossiers, National Park Service surveys, and peer-reviewed archaeoastronomy—done. [64][65][66] 28 30 29 Giants? Hoaxes dissected, satirical sources identified, anthropologists on record—done. [67][68][69] 37 34 35 Parsons? Biographies across Britannica and Caltech journalism—done. [70][71] 13 50

What remains are human hearts—mine, yours, the folks online. Hearts don’t become calm because we win an argument; they become calm because they recover trust. And you don’t rebuild trust just by yelling “fact!” across a room. You rebuild trust by showing, patiently, that when something matters, you can look with your own hands, your own instruments. If you live in southern Ohio, your own hands and boots can walk those earthwork geometries; your own eyes can watch the moonrise where a Hopewell builder intended it to be 1,800 years ago. [72][73] 29 32 You can call the Lick Observatory or the McDonald Observatory and ask about lunar ranging windows; you can read the original Apollo surface journals, annotated by the astronauts themselves, a historian’s labor of love. [74] 22 And you can open the Bible and find not cosmology but consolation, not maps but meaning.

Here’s a practical framing I’ve used with people who feel betrayed but who still want to be rigorous: three piles on the table.

Pile One—“True and Useful.” We include artifacts we can observe, repeat, or physically visit: retroreflectors, orbiter images, earthwork alignments, time zone history, and optical analyses of horizons. [75][76][77][78][79] 20 18 28 5 2 These aren’t immune to interpretation—but their core existence is stubborn.

Pile Two—“True but Treacherous.” Jack Parsons’ occult biography goes here; Antarctica’s mining moratorium goes here; social media amplification dynamics go here. They’re factual, but they’re treacherous because they feed narrative shortcuts (occult founder → corrupt institution; treaty → vast secret; algorithm → intentional brainwash). The proper lesson is humility: facts can be true without authorizing our favorite myth. [80][81][82] 13 25 9

Pile Three—“Noisy and Harmful.” Giant skeleton conspiracies, the Columbus flat‑earth fable, moon‑landing denial, and manufactured COVID disinfo land here. They waste attention and erode trust in good things. [83][84][85][86] 37 40 51 45

You’ll notice I didn’t put Scripture in any pile. Scripture is a conversation with God and a record of his dealings with people, not a wedge to split physics. You can be the person who insists on both fidelity and evidence. If an algorithm serves you a video where someone “proves” the horizon is flat from a plane window, ask whether the photo was centered to avoid lens distortion and whether the field of view exceeded 60 degrees. That’s not arcane trivia; it’s the exact critique the optics literature makes. [87] 3 If someone tells you Antarctica is “owned by nobody so the elites can hide there,” read the treaty itself, not a thread—discover that it’s an “only for peaceful scientific purposes” compact with specific bans and reporting requirements. [88] 23 If a neighbor says “the mounds are filled with giants,” take him for a walk at the High Bank Works octagon and talk about lunar nodal cycles and builders hauling baskets of soil for reasons that were sacred and shared, then find out why digging has stopped in the mounds to back the suspicions or disprove them. [89][90] 28 30

There’s also the question that’s subtly profound: are some platforms permitting a surge in obviously wrong conspiracies (Flat Earth) to create guilt‑by‑association for less‑crazy claims (institutional capture, intelligence influence, biotech lobbying)? It’s a fair suspicion. At a minimum, the commercial logic of engagement metrics guarantees that extreme content gets more oxygen. Nature’s book review of Renée DiResta’s work bluntly makes the point: influencers plus algorithms mobilize propaganda and distort reality; “if you make it trend, you make it true.” [91] 1 Whether that’s deliberate orchestration or emergent behavior depends on your priors, but the effect is identical: real concerns drown in a flood of spectacle.

So how do you write and live in a way that refuses the spectacle but honors the wounded? Here are a few rules I’ve found that apply.

Rule #1: Start with what you can touch. If it’s the Moon, shoot lasers. If it’s the earthworks, pace the baselines and check the azimuths. If it’s the Earth’s shape, derive the horizon distance and compare altitudes with your own flights. [92][93][94] 19 28 4

Rule #2: Track the history of the myth. Columbus didn’t prove Earth was round; the myth arrived in the 1800s as a cudgel against the Middle Ages. [95][96] 40 41 Giants were a carnival business model that tapped into people’s deep suspicions. [97] 35

Rule #3: Acknowledge the true emotional core. People aren’t crazy to distrust. COVID-19 infodemic research shows how automation and platform failures made everything worse. [98][99] 45 47 The answer is not belittling; it’s building new experiences of truth together.

Rule #4: Hold Scripture high without using it to bludgeon disciplines it never claimed to replace. Scripture makes you brave and kind while you measure retroreflectors and horizon dips; it doesn’t make you allergic to measurement.

Rule #5: When algorithms trend a circus, choose a pilgrimage. Drive to Hopeton. Stand at Fort Ancient’s overlook. Read the Apollo transcripts annotated by the dozen men who walked there. [100][101][102] 33 28 22

Imagine a night at McDonald Observatory in Texas. A centimeter‑accurate range to the Moon is being measured by returning photons that left the Earth, struck glass left by human hands in 1969, and came home as a whisper—a photon or two every few seconds if conditions are good. [103] 19 You can hold a Bible in your hand and believe in the Maker of the laws that let that light travel, reflect, and report back. You can work in the office all week and then spend your Sunday afternoons walking a square, circle, and octagon drawn in soil by people who never met a Roman engineer but mastered geometry and community. [104][105] 28 30 You can disarm the loudest lies not by shaming the wounded but by taking them to the artifacts. Sometimes the best rebuttal is a road trip. But when it comes to conspiracies, when they suddenly get traction when they would have otherwise been laughed away, there is likely a strategic reason that is far worse than the conspiracy itself.

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Footnotes

[1] On influencer/algorithmic distortion dynamics and “make it trend, make it true.” 1

[2] Minimum altitude and field-of-view conditions for visual curvature discernment. 2

[3] Photographic barrel distortion warnings; curvature is more evident at higher altitudes. 3

[4] Horizon distance, math, and ship‑hull observations as curvature evidence. 4

[5] 1884 International Meridian Conference; Greenwich adopted; standard time. 5

[6] CFR analysis on the significance of global time standardization. 6

[7] Timeanddate history of time zones (railway/telegraph drivers). 7

[8] Royal Observatory Greenwich’s historical background on the prime meridian and time. 8

[9] Cross-platform thematic analysis of Flat Earth posts (Twitter/Facebook/Instagram). 9

[10] Interviews with ex-conspiracy theorists on platform dynamics (PLOS One, 2025). 10

[11] University of Cincinnati note on Flat Earth spikes around 2024 eclipse. 11

[12] arXiv critique on interpreting algorithm mitigation studies around elections. 12

[13] Britannica biography confirming Parsons as JPL cofounder and occult interests. 13

[14] Wikipedia overview of Parsons’ Thelemite association and rocket work. 14

[15] Space Safety Magazine on Parsons’ occult and engineering legacy. 15

[16] Supercluster editorial on JPL’s occult history in a cultural context. 16

[17] Pasadena Now retrospective on Parsons/Crowley/Hubbard connections. 17

[18] ZME Science round-up of non-NASA orbiter imagery of Apollo artifacts. 18

[19] Space.com explainer on Apollo retroreflectors and ongoing ranging. 19

[20] List of lunar retroreflectors (Apollo, Lunokhod, Chandrayaan‑3, Blue Ghost). 20

[21] IEEE Photonics Society milestone note on Apollo 11 lunar laser ranging. 21

[22] NASA Apollo Journals—a primary source annotated by astronauts/historians. 22

[23] USAP portal overview of the Antarctic Treaty—peace/science/environment. 23

[24] ATS treaty history, signatories, bans, and scope (Wikipedia overview). 24

[25] A brilliant chapter on the Antarctic mineral moratorium and its durability. 25

[26] Legal explainer on restricted access under ATS (environmental/peace). 26

[27] IFREMER paper on ATS and the Madrid Protocol’s simplicity/ban strength. 27

[28] USAP details on consultative parties and protocols (tourism/environment). 23

[29] Brill chapter clarifying no fixed end date; amendment procedure post‑2048. 25

[30] ATS history note, including Operation Highjump as context. 24

[31] NPS announcement of UNESCO World Heritage designation for Hopewell sites. 28

[32] Hopewell Ceremonial Earthworks official site—geometry, alignments, trade. 29

[33] National Geographic feature on the Ohio Hopewell World Heritage sites. 30

[34] Wikipedia overview of Hopewell Culture National Historical Park. 31

[35] Atlas Obscura/Conversation piece on Newark/Serpent alignments and threats. 32

[36] NPS page on Hopeton Earthworks specifics. 33

[37] National Geographic on octagon/circle dimensions and lunar nodal cycle. 30

[38] Wikipedia’s synthesis of giant-skeleton claims and the Smithsonian’s debunking. 34

[39] Discover Magazine’s history of giant hoaxes (Cardiff Giant, etc.). 35

[40] USA Today fact‑check on old hoax images and National Geographic’s retraction. 36

[41] Snopes debunk of “Smithsonian destroyed giants” and source satire. 37

[42] PolitiFact reiterates that the Smithsonian admitted nothing; the satire originated. 38

[43] Fact‑check roundup: misidentified megafauna, pathologies, fraud. 39

[44] History.com on Irving’s fabrication of the Columbus flat-earth myth. 40

[45] Wikipedia “Myth of the flat Earth” (Gould, Lindberg/Numbers, Russell). 41

[46] JSTOR article by Lesley Cormack on misconceptions of medieval cosmology. 42

[47] History Rise synthesis of the myth’s 19th-century polemical origins. 43

[48] STR.org essay summarizing Russell’s view and that of early Christian scholars. 44

[49] JAMA Internal Medicine research letter on automated mask misinformation. 45

[50] JMIR editorial on the deadly COVID-19 infodemic and platform duties. 46

[51] PubMed Central version of the JMIR editorial (open access). 47

[52] Springer analysis of automated detection across COVID misinformation datasets. 48

[53] Wikipedia overview of COVID vaccine misinformation and hesitancy. 49

[54] ZME Science—non-NASA imagery confirming Apollo artifacts. 18

[55] Wikipedia catalog of retroreflectors (Apollo/Lunokhod/Chandrayaan/Blue Ghost). 20

[56] Space.com explainer—how lunar ranging works at observatories. 19

[57] IEEE Photonics Society milestone commemoration of LURE. 21

[58] Earth Science Stack Exchange reasoning and formulae on horizon distance. 4

[59] Applied Optics paper (Lynch) on curvature perception thresholds. 2

[60] Historical adoption of standard time enabled global navigation. 5

[61] USAP Treaty overview—structure, parties, environmental measures. 23

[62] Wikipedia ATS—history, parties, bans, scope. 24

[63] Brill chapter—mineral moratorium’s scope/duration. 25

[64] NPS—Hopewell UNESCO designation and site list. 28

[65] National Geographic—site dimensions, alignments, cultural context. 30

[66] Hopewell official site—architectural precision and cosmic alignments. 29

[67] Snopes—debunk of “Smithsonian destroyed giants.” 37

[68] Wikipedia—giant skeletons hoax history and debunking. 34

[69] Discover Magazine—a catalog of giant hoaxes. 35

[70] Britannica—Parsons biography. 13

[71] Caltech feature—Parsons’ paradoxical figure. 50

[72] Hopewell Earthworks official site—plan your visit; site overviews. 29

[73] Atlas Obscura/Conversation—Serpent and Newark alignments described. 32

[74] NASA Apollo Journals—annotated primary records. 22

[75] Wikipedia’s list of lunar retroreflectors. 20

[76] ZME Science imagery confirmation. 18

[77] NPS Hopewell UNESCO documentation. 28

[78] IMC 1884 proceedings and prime meridian adoption. 5

[79] Applied Optics curvature paper. 2

[80] Britannica on Parsons (occult + engineering). 13

[81] Brill ATS mineral moratorium chapter. 25

[82] Cross-platform flat‑earth research (SBP‑BRiMS 2024). 9

[83] Snopes—giant skeleton satire origin. 37

[84] History.com—Irving’s Columbus myth. 40

[85] Factually (compendium) on moon landing evidence debates. 51

[86] JAMA mask misinformation automation. 45

[87] Thule Scientific/Lynch PDF: image‑center requirement to avoid distortion. 3

[88] USAP portal—Treaty text and Secretariat references. 23

[89] NPS/World Heritage—High Bank and Newark geometry. 28

[90] National Geographic—lunar nodal cycle mapping at Newark. 30

[91] Nature Review of DiResta—engagement logic begets distortion. 1

[92] Space.com—How laser ranging is conducted. 19

[93] Hopewell site plans (official site). 29

[94] Earth Science Stack Exchange—derive and test horizon math. 4

[95] History.com—Irving’s role in flat‑earth myth. 40

[96] Wikipedia—historiography of the myth. 41

[97] Discover Magazine—Cardiff Giant and other hoaxes. 35

[98] JAMA—automated misinformation mechanisms. 45

[99] JMIR editorial—platform responsibilities and the infodemic. 47

[100] NPS/US sites—Hopeton logistics. 33

[101] NPS overview—eight Hopewell sites; UNESCO context. 28

[102] NASA Apollo Journals—astronaut annotations. 22

[103] Space.com—photon counts returning from lunar arrays. 19

[104] Hopewell site details—geometry and alignments. 29

[105] National Geographic—scale of octagon/circle; sacred context. 30

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Bibliography

• Antarctica & Treaties: USAP Portal, The Antarctic Treaty; Wikipedia, Antarctic Treaty System; Kempf, N., The Antarctic Mineral Moratorium (Brill, 2025); IFREMER OOS Congress 2025 paper on ATS & Madrid Protocol. 23 24 25 27

• Algorithms & Misinformation: Nature review of DiResta (2024); arXiv e-letter on Facebook algorithms (2024); SBP‑BRiMS 2024 Flat Earth cross-platform study; PLOS One interviews with ex-conspiracy theorists (2025). 1 12 9 10

• COVID Infodemic: JAMA Internal Medicine mask misinformation letter (2021); JMIR editorial (2022); Springer dataset aggregation study (2022/2024); Wikipedia overview (contextual). 45 47 48 49

• Earth’s Curvature & Time: Lynch, Applied Optics (2008) and Thule Scientific PDF; Earth Science Stack Exchange horizon calculations; International Meridian Conference history; CFR blog; Timeanddate; Royal Observatory Greenwich. 2 3 4 5 6 7 8

• Hopewell Earthworks: NPS Hopewell pages; Hopewell Ceremonial Earthworks official site; National Geographic feature; Atlas Obscura/Conversation on Newark & Serpent; Wikipedia HOCU overview. 28 29 30 32 31

• Giants & Hoaxes: Snopes; PolitiFact; Discover Magazine; USA Today fact check; Wikipedia Giant human skeletons. 37 38 35 36 34

• Parsons/JPL: Britannica; Wikipedia; Space Safety Magazine; Supercluster; Pasadena Now; Caltech Tech article. 13 14 15 16 17 50

• Moon Landing Evidence: Space.com on lunar ranging; IEEE Photonics Society; Wikipedia retroreflector list; ZME Science imagery; NASA Apollo Journals. 19 21 20 18 22

• Columbus & Flat Earth Myth: History.com; Wikipedia Myth of the flat Earth; JSTOR (Cormack); STR.org; History Rise. 40 41 42 44 43

Rich Hoffman

Click Here to Protect Yourself with Second Call Defense https://www.secondcalldefense.org/?affiliate=20707

Signing E.O. 14172 Was Critical: What a lot of people don’t understand about Cost+ contracts

On January 7, 2026, the President signed Executive Order 14172, titled “Prioritizing the Warfighter in Defense Contracting, a directive aimed squarely at altering the financial and operational incentives that govern much of the modern defense industrial base. The order is grounded in existing executive authority over federal procurement, the Defense Production Act of 1950, and enforcement mechanisms embedded in the FAR and DFARS. Its legal structure does not cancel contracts wholesale or impose new statutory law; instead, it compels the Department of Defense—acting through the Secretary of Defense/War—to conduct rolling performance reviews of defense contractors producing critical weapons, systems, and equipment, beginning within 30 days of issuance. Contractors deemed “underperforming”—a term defined functionally as failing to meet delivery schedules, production speed, capital reinvestment expectations, or prioritization of U.S. government contracts—are immediately prohibited from executing stock buybacks or issuing dividends. Those contractors are given a 15-day window to submit board-approved remediation plans, with the Secretary authorized to escalate enforcement through contract modification, Defense Production Act authorities, or withdrawal of U.S. government advocacy if performance failures persist.

What distinguishes this order from prior acquisition reform efforts is that it explicitly links financial extraction behavior—buybacks, dividends, and executive comp plans—to production failure, instead of treating them as separate corporate governance issues. That linkage becomes particularly relevant when viewed alongside the last fifteen years of structural change in the defense and aerospace supply chain, where private‑equity ownership has steadily displaced privately held operators. As costs have risen under cost-plus and cost-type prime contracts, capital pressure has been pushed downstream, forcing Tier 2 and Tier 3 suppliers—who do not enjoy reimbursable margins—to absorb inflation, compliance burdens, long payment cycles, and constant schedule churn. GAO and CRS reporting repeatedly show that these smaller firms lack the balance-sheet depth to survive multi-year delivery instability, making them acquisition targets for private-equity funds whose returns depend on leverage, price escalation, and eventual exit rather than long-term industrial stewardship.

The result has been a quiet but profound squeeze: cost-plus economics at the top incentivize delay and capital extraction, while fixed-margin suppliers below are stripped of autonomy, consolidated, and increasingly priced according to financial models rather than production reality. Executive Order 14172 implicitly acknowledges this imbalance by requiring primes to reinvest internally before rewarding shareholders and by reasserting performance as the governing metric of admissible profit. Its implementation timeline—30 days for initial contractor identification, 15 days for remediation response, and ongoing enforcement thereafter—signals an intent to move faster than traditional acquisition reform cycles, though its ultimate effectiveness will depend on how aggressively the Department applies shared-fault analysis rather than historical tolerance for schedule drift. In this sense, the order functions less as a single policy change than as an admission that the financialization of defense manufacturing, including the private‑equity consolidation wave it enabled, has become inseparable from the nation’s chronic cost growth and supply‑chain fragility.

Across modern U.S. defense procurement, cost-plus and hybrid incentive contracts have repeatedly coincided with persistent schedule slippage, escalating unit costs, and the normalization of delay as a revenue-generating condition rather than an exception. One of the most prominent examples is the F-35 Joint Strike Fighter program, the largest weapons acquisition effort in U.S. history. Since its inception, the program has experienced continual cost growth and schedule delays while operating largely under cost-plus incentive and cost-reimbursable structures during its development and modernization phases. Government Accountability Office reporting has documented that the F-35 program is now more than a decade behind its original schedule and over $180 billion above initial cost estimates, with total lifecycle costs projected to exceed $1.6 trillion.¹ Contractors have routinely delivered aircraft and engines late, yet still earned substantial incentive fees because contract structures allowed partial fee recovery even when deadlines were missed. In 2024 alone, all F-35 airframes delivered by the prime contractor were late by an average of more than 200 days, while hundreds of millions of dollars in performance fees continued to be disbursed.² The GAO has repeatedly concluded that the program’s payment mechanisms reward activity rather than outcomes, allowing chronic delivery delay to become financially survivable—and in some cases preferable—to accelerated execution.³

Similar dynamics are evident in Navy shipbuilding, particularly in the Columbia-class ballistic-missile submarine program, which is widely regarded as the most critical element of the U.S. nuclear deterrent. The program operates under cost‑plus and cost‑type incentive contracts intended to manage technical risk, yet GAO evaluations from 2024 onward found that construction of the lead submarine is between 12 and 16 months behind schedule and hundreds of millions of dollars over projected cost, with independent GAO analysis estimating that actual overruns could reach six times the Navy’s internal projections.⁴ Despite billions of dollars in taxpayer investments intended to stabilize the submarine industrial base, the Navy and its prime contractors have been unable to demonstrate measurable performance improvement across material availability, workforce productivity, or supplier readiness.⁵ GAO reporting further found that neither the Navy nor the prime contractor had conducted adequate root‑cause analysis of repeated delays, relying instead on optimistic assumptions of future performance improvements that historical data does not support.⁶

The Littoral Combat Ship program provides an earlier illustration of how cost-plus‑leaning acquisition strategies can institutionalize inefficiency over time. Initially justified as a fast, affordable surface combatant, the LCS program deviated from traditional acquisition discipline by committing to production before design maturity and by accepting recurring cost growth in exchange for schedule promises that were never realized. Unit costs for LCS vessels more than doubled over the life of the program, while significant mission capabilities failed to materialize as advertised.⁷ GAO assessments and congressional testimony concluded that the Navy’s acquisition approach raised serious concerns about over-commitment to incomplete designs, with contractors insulated from the financial consequences of rework and redesign.⁸ By the time the program was restructured and curtailed, billions had already been expended on ships that were later decommissioned early due to limited combat utility.⁹

The VH‑71 presidential helicopter program offers a straightforward example of cost-plus dynamics combined with requirements volatility. The program, intended to replace the Marine One fleet, was terminated in 2009 after nearly $3 billion had been spent, following a critical Nunn–McCurdy breach triggered by explosive cost growth and schedule delay.¹⁰ GAO post‑mortem analysis determined that the program’s cost‑reimbursable structure, combined with continuously changing government requirements, enabled unchecked cost escalation without corresponding delivery progress.¹¹ Despite repeated warnings, the program advanced through development phases without achieving design stability or cost control, ultimately requiring cancellation and restart under a new acquisition framework.¹²

Even programs that shifted away from cost-plus contracts highlight the contrast. The Air Force’s KC-46 tanker program, awarded under a firm-fixed-price incentive contract, experienced significant technical difficulties and multiyear delays, but forced the contractor—not the taxpayer—to absorb more than $7 billion in overruns.¹³ GAO reviews noted that while the fixed‑price structure did not prevent schedule delays, it did materially limit government exposure and altered contractor behavior by internalizing financial risk.¹⁴ Defense analysts frequently cite this experience as evidence that contract type does not eliminate execution risk but dramatically changes who bears the cost of failure.

Taken together, these cases illustrate a persistent pattern identified by the GAO for more than two decades: when cost‑plus structures dominate complex defense programs, delivery timelines expand, supply chains stagnate, and cost growth becomes normalized rather than corrected.¹⁵ Incentives shift away from throughput, schedule discipline, and supplier performance and toward change management, rework, and prolonged development cycles. GAO has repeatedly warned that, without a stronger linkage between payment and demonstrable outcomes, defense acquisition programs will continue to reward delay while eroding industrial base accountability.¹⁶

So I am a big fan of this executive order. It’s been a long time coming. And it’s the only way to deal with escalating pricing in other fields. Much of the out-of-control price escalation we have in our economy today starts with abuses by the Industrial Military complex and the rigged game of paying for bad performance, because there are so few players in the business. Something had to be done.

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Footnotes

1. U.S. Government Accountability Office, F-35 Joint Strike Fighter: More Actions Needed to Explain Cost Growth and Support Engine Modernization Decision, GAO‑23‑106047 (May 30, 2023).

2. U.S. Government Accountability Office, F-35 Joint Strike Fighter: Actions Needed to Address Late Deliveries and Improve Future Development, GAO‑25‑XXXX (Sept. 2025).

3. U.S. Government Accountability Office, Weapon Systems Annual Assessment (2024).

4. U.S. Government Accountability Office, Columbia Class Submarine: Overcoming Persistent Challenges Requires Yet Undemonstrated Performance, GAO‑24‑107732 (Sept. 30, 2024).

5. Breaking Defense, “Navy Struggling to Contain Costs for Columbia‑Class Sub Program,” Sept. 30, 2024.

6. U.S. Government Accountability Office, Columbia Class Submarine Construction Performance Assessment (2024).

7. U.S. Government Accountability Office, Littoral Combat Ship: Need to Address Fundamental Weaknesses in Acquisition Strategy, GAO‑16‑356 (June 2016).

8. Senate Armed Services Committee Hearing Transcript, Dec. 1, 2016 (GAO testimony).

9. Defense One, “Littoral Combat Ship at a Crossroads,” Dec. 2016.

10. U.S. Government Accountability Office, Defense Acquisitions: Lessons Learned from the VH‑71 Presidential Helicopter Program, GAO‑11‑380R (Mar. 25, 2011).

11. Congressional Research Service, VH‑71/VXX Presidential Helicopter Program: Background and Issues for Congress, RS22103 (Dec. 22, 2009).

12. Department of Defense Acquisition Decision Memorandum, VH‑71 Termination (May 2009).

13. Defense News, “How Boeing Lost $7 Billion on the KC-46 Tanker,” Jan. 9, 2024.

14. U.S. Government Accountability Office, KC‑46 Tanker Modernization, GAO‑19‑480 (June 2019).

15. U.S. Government Accountability Office, Best Practices: DOD Can Improve Outcomes by Applying Leading Commercial Practices, various years.

16. U.S. Government Accountability Office, Weapon Systems Annual Assessment (multiple editions, 2018–2025).

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Bibliography

Government Accountability Office. Weapon Systems Annual Assessment. Washington, DC: GAO, multiple years.

Government Accountability Office. F-35 Joint Strike Fighter: More Actions Needed to Explain Cost Growth. GAO‑23‑106047.

Government Accountability Office. Columbia Class Submarine: Overcoming Persistent Challenges. GAO‑24‑107732.

Government Accountability Office. Littoral Combat Ship: Need to Address Fundamental Weaknesses. GAO‑16‑356.

Government Accountability Office. Defense Acquisitions: Lessons Learned from the VH‑71 Program. GAO‑11‑380R.

Congressional Research Service. Presidential Helicopter Replacement Program. RS22103.

Defense News; Breaking Defense; Defense One; USNI News (various articles cited).

Rich Hoffman

Click Here to Protect Yourself with Second Call Defense https://www.secondcalldefense.org/?affiliate=20707

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Butler County GOP Endorses Michael Ryan for Commissioner: The coalition builder, not the revenge tour, or the middle finger

Politics used to be about buying your way onto the field with whatever the old media would let you run; now it’s a multi-front dialogue with voters in a thousand micro‑channels you can’t bully, buy, or badger. That’s precisely why the Butler County Republican Party’s endorsement for the 2026 commissioner race matters more than the yard‑sign arms race or a late sprint of cable buys. The party met and took a hard look at candidates and momentum, then endorsed Michael Ryan, the Hamilton vice mayor and former two-term councilman, with 71% of the vote—a landslide in intraparty terms and a signal that the center of gravity has moved.1

Now, Michael’s not a surprise. He telegraphed this run early, skipped a safe third council term to go county-wide, and built a coalition that looks like the next decade of Republican leadership rather than the last. The local press documented the pivot: he pulled petitions in May 2025 and argued that county policy needs someone who can assemble teams, manage a large budget, and negotiate growth while keeping conservative guardrails intact. The Journal‑News laid out the framing: Butler County’s annual budget sits near $500 million, which is not far off Hamilton’s total because the city runs utilities—so a Ryan résumé of budget discipline and project delivery isn’t a stretch to scale.2

Meanwhile, what makes an endorsement decisive isn’t just math inside a party meeting; it’s the psychology of trust outside it. Voters aren’t shopping for saviors; they’re looking for steady hands who can do the table talk, bring coalition politics back from bloodsport, and keep the county in the black while the national mood whipsaws. Michael’s case is that he’s done that already—eight years on council, two stints as vice mayor, a list of jobs recruited, investments landed. If you want to see his pitch in his own words, his site stacks the receipts—balanced budgets, 1,400 new jobs, $700 million in capital investment—and shows a broad bench of local Republican endorsements from state senator George Lang to sitting city council members across the county. If you view campaign websites skeptically (good habit), remember that the basic resume points have been corroborated and referenced in local coverage.3 2

Roger Reynolds is the wild card—and yes, I have supported him in the past for other fights—but this seat, this season, isn’t the right battlefield. He’s well‑known, to be sure. His 2022 felony conviction over unlawful interest in a public contract was overturned in 2024 by the Twelfth District Court of Appeals, and the Ohio Supreme Court refused to disturb that reversal; that’s an essential legal clearance. But the same Supreme Court opinion blocked him from reclaiming the auditor’s office he’d won in 2022, clarifying he can run again in the future, not retroactively retake the seat. He’s used that clean bill of eligibility to jump into this commissioner race in 2026.4 5

Here’s where the political calculus cuts sharply: being legally eligible isn’t the same as being politically restored. Voters have long memories; they remember the courtroom saga even if the headline at the end credits “overturned.” The Enquirer summarized the timeline cleanly—indictment, a single felony conviction on the Lakota angle, subsequent reversal, and the present campaign posture. That’s nothing; it’s the kind of backstory that makes your consultants salivate over message discipline and makes your donors jittery about whether a million dollars in signs and mailers can buy back normalcy. And, on top of that, the first skirmish of 2026 was a legal “cease” letter from Reynolds’s counsel to Ryan over campaign statements—“normal campaign bickering,” Reynolds said—but it sets a tone. If your brand promise is “100% positive campaign,” you don’t want week one to be a lawyerly demand letter and a press cycle about “defamation.” That’s oxygen you don’t get back.6

So let’s talk yard signs, because politicians who plan a resurrection often think in terms of saturating real estate with their names, then buying enough broadcast to push past the whispers. Butler County’s population sits around 400,000 people; the geographic sprawl and the number of micro‑communities—from Liberty and West Chester to Hamilton, Fairfield, Middletown, Oxford, and the townships—means your sign budget leaks. People steal them, wind takes them, HOAs yank them. You replace and replace, and your spending ends up as a weekly chore. I don’t care if you’ve earmarked $125,000 or double that; you won’t beat an endorsement plus a ground game in honest conversations across civic slots. The Journal‑News reported the early posture: Ryan’s petitions were certified mid‑2025; Reynolds announced and described the election as a referendum on fiscal discipline rather than “courtroom drama,” but the party’s endorsement last week says rank-and-file Republicans aren’t buying the “just the future” frame. They picked the coalition builder, not the comeback.7 1

Now, about Cindy Carpenter. She has been on the board since 2011 and is seeking another term. Longevity usually earns deference, but not automatic endorsement. The county’s official page lists her current term running through December 31, 2026; that’s the seat this primary decides.8 And she walked into 2026 with a fresh controversy: the Oxford apartment office incident involving her granddaughter’s rent dispute, a flipped middle finger on video, and accusations of “racist” remarks that the prosecutor ultimately said did not amount to wrongdoing, though he wrote her conduct was “distasteful and beneath her elected position.” You can parse tone and motive all day; the legal piece is settled—no charges and the matter closed—but voters see the tape and the headlines. That’s enough to move marginal supporters toward the more predictable alternative.9 10 11

If you’re counting coalition math, the endorsement vote margin—71%—is not a nudge; it’s a shove. Nancy Nix, now the county auditor, reportedly attended the endorsement meeting and confirmed the tally. In a county where winning the GOP primary is often tantamount to winning in November, a unified endorsement improves fundraising and volunteer energy. It also narrows the “independent” lane for a sitting commissioner who didn’t get the nod. If Carpenter runs without the party’s backing, as some have suggested she might, she’ll need a ballot strategy that reintroduces herself as a pragmatic caretaker, not an insurgent. That’s a hard sell after fifteen years in office and a fresh headline about “inappropriate gesture.”1

What does the “post‑MAGA” Republican center look like in Butler County? It seems less like a purity test and more like a competence test married to coalition instincts. The culture war isn’t over, but voters have learned the cost of gridlock and personality feuds in local government. Ryan’s style—steady, pragmatic, pro-growth, minimalist on mudslinging—fits that mood. Even the critiques thrown at him (“stepping stone,” says Carpenter) sound antique in a county where younger Republicans have already moved into leadership slots in councils and school boards. The Journal’s News coverage links Ryan’s Hamilton résumé to county-wide feasibility: he’s worked with local, state, and federal decision-makers on public safety and infrastructure, and even served as a liaison for the Amtrak stop push in Hamilton. Those are not ideological fantasies; they’re governing tasks where people skills matter.2

And yes, campaigns need money. Ryan’s fundraising velocity looks like a candidate with broad buy-in—events across the county and a donor list that isn’t just from one township. Whether it’s $100,000 in the bank now or double that soon, the point isn’t how many mailers you can print; it’s how many doors you can knock with volunteers who believe you’ll answer their emails after you win. The county GOP endorsement helps there; donors prefer campaigns that aren’t about to splinter the party. Meanwhile, Reynolds ‘ suggestion that he’ll spend heavily—to the tune of six figures and perhaps beyond—won’t fix the core problem: a campaign that starts by relitigating perception rather than proposing coalitions. The Enquirer’s report on his launch emphasized his intent to return “windfall” property tax revenue to taxpayers and raise the Homestead Exemption; those are policy planks that will attract attention. But they’re competing against a party coalescing around a candidate who can execute a full agenda without dragging legal undertones into every meeting.5 1

Let’s zoom out into strategy—because if I were advising Reynolds, I wouldn’t tell him to burn $250,000 on a race he’s likely to lose by 12‑15 points after the endorsement lands and consolidates. I’d say to him to rebuild his brand across the map: show up for other candidates, be helpful, become indispensable in the trenches, help elect school board members and trustees, and re-establish the “workhorse, not lightning rod” identity. That takes two years; it doesn’t show up in six months. And then consider a race aligned with your strengths and your arc, not a head-on collision with a party that just voted for someone else overwhelmingly. The Journal-News article, calling the 2026 commissioner contest “off and running,” captured the vibe—three Republicans, but only one whose petitions were already certified, who positioned the race as “no distractions.” That kind of language puts the burden on the other two to explain why their distractions are the voters’ problem.7

As for Carpenter, I don’t think she’s a villain; I think she’s a discovered Democrat. I guess longevity breeds muscle memory: you reach for authority instead of coalition. Voters can forgive that once, even twice, if the essentials are stable—roads paved, budgets balanced, ops quiet. But the moment a county commissioner’s name becomes shorthand for “that clip,” you lose the institutional halo and become another “brand management” project. When the prosecutor writes that your conduct didn’t rise to misconduct but was “unseemly for a person in her governmental capacity,” he has foreclosed the legal fight and opened the political one. That line will be in mailers whether you like it or not.9

So let’s talk about why Michael Ryan is getting the oxygen. Take Hamilton’s decade: Spooky Nook, industrial recruitment, hotels, restaurants, and an intentional move to professionalize the city’s growth narrative. The projects drew coverage on Local 12 and WCPO as they moved from idea to construction. Ryan’s campaign site links those stories because they’re public record and because they demonstrate a pattern—jobs, capital investment, and a tax base that didn’t need a culture‑war siren to grow. That’s not fantasy; it’s visible on the ground.3

And that gets to the key point: trust and unity. You want commissioners who can assemble teams and get people to work together. The post‑MAGA Republican mood isn’t anti-passion; it’s anti-drama. Politics will always draw blood—that’s built into the incentives—but we’re past the phase where you win by keeping enemies. You win by maintaining coalitions. Ryan’s tenure has been, in my experience, the kind of steady hand that translates across jurisdictions. That’s why the endorsement reads: “We choose execution over excavation.”1

Will this primary be clean? Cleanish. Reynolds has already put legal heat on a rival over statements; Carpenter has already been under an investigative microscope for the Oxford dispute. Ryan said from the start he’d run forward, not backward. If he holds that line, he wins the contrast without throwing punches. Voters know what negative looks like; a candidate who doesn’t need it earns an advantage. The Journal‑noted that he’s focusing on county work while stepping away from a sure council reelection this past year underscored the seriousness. He isn’t auditioning; he’s already governing at scale and wants a bigger toolbox.12

Budget posture matters here, too. Reynolds’ webpage and statements emphasize returning “excess” taxes and trimming county-wide spending; that resonates with conservatives who see reserves as proof of over‑taxation. The Enquirer quoted his figure—$165 million in projected windfall—to argue the county should give it back. That’s a message built to win in a vacuum. But the county is not a vacuum; it is pipelines, roads, courts, human services, and emergency management in a region with real growth pressures. The choice isn’t “tax or freedom”; it’s “how do you scale skillfully and still protect the taxpayer?” Ryan’s resume suggests a bias toward growth with discipline; Reynolds’s indicates a bias toward tax rebate with enforcement. That’s a healthy debate. The question is whether you want that debate led by a figure whose first month of campaign coverage includes legal letters and remembrance of overturned convictions.5

At the end of the day, endorsements don’t vote; people do. But endorsements shape who knocks doors with a smile, who makes phone calls with energy, and who shows up at the farmers’ market with a candidate they’ll vouch for. The Butler County GOP made this easy for the average Republican: the party chose the coalition builder and did it decisively. Signage will follow; donors will align; volunteers will multiply. Carpenter, running as an independent (if that’s where this heads), faces a map where the party she’s long identified with chose another standard-bearer. Reynolds, running as a revenge tour, spends a lot of money to test whether yard signs can outshout a decade’s worth of narrative. I don’t think they can. If he asked me privately, I’d advise him to pause, help the team, and come back when the story is about contribution, not correction. The early legal dust-up with Ryan over “defamation” is precisely the kind of oxygen leak you can’t repair with cash.6

Michael Ryan’s advantage isn’t charisma or cash; it’s consistency and coalition—the dull virtues that win in local government and keep winning after you’re sworn in. He has stayed on message, prep’d the county for his arrival by reminding voters of outcomes they can touch—jobs, buildings, budget discipline—and signaled that commissioners should convene, not crusade. When you have that many people who have worked with you and still like you, politics gets easy. You can negotiate without a knife on the table and tell a thousand small stories about how a problem got solved without making enemies. That’s why he looks like the future of the county’s Republican leadership—the brand that doesn’t need apologetics when the cameras are off.2 3

So yes, celebrate the endorsement. It’s a coalition announcement more than a party ritual: Butler County Republicans chose a governing style. If the election maps break the usual way—primary decides most of November—this nod might be the moment future voters remember as the pivot. Every county needs the next wave of steady hands; every township needs trustees who can form a quorum without fireworks; every school board needs members who can stare down budget math and still make curriculum decisions. That cascade begins with visible wins and ends with a bench you can count on. We need more Michael Ryans, not fewer. And if you’re Roger Reynolds and you want redemption, the path isn’t paved with yard signs. It’s paved with other people’s wins that you helped engineer. Build that for two years, and you’ll be viable in 2028 for a race that fits. Try to sprint through a primary you’ve already lost in the court of party morale, and you’ll spend a quarter‑million dollars to learn a lesson you could have learned for free.7 1

As for voters: enjoy that your choice might be easy. You don’t often get a three-way intraparty field where one candidate looks like the obvious governing adult and doesn’t need mud to make his case. If you want to vote happy—if that’s allowed in local politics—this might be your chance. You’ll be voting for a county commissioner who can take Butler County’s good run and extend it without asking for a personality cult or a tear-jerking redemption arc. He’s advertised as who he is: a nice guy who knows how to put the right people at the table and get to yes. Michael Ryan is the Republican Party-endorsed candidate for county commissioner, and we are lucky to have him.

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Footnotes

1. “County GOP backs new face for commissioner over incumbent … Ryan won with 71% of the vote,” summary of Cincinnati.com/Enquirer reporting via WorldNews mirror (Jan. 10, 2026).1

2. Hamilton councilman Ryan to run for Butler County Commission; budget scale context and résumé highlights (Journal‑News, May 19, 2025).2

3. Michael Ryan campaign website: résumé, endorsements, economic development links (accessed Jan. 11, 2026).3

4. Supreme Court of Ohio: Reynolds cannot be restored to the Auditor post after reversal; eligible to run in the future (Court News Ohio, Sept. 25, 2024).4

5. “After overturned conviction, ex‑auditor runs for county commissioner,” (Cincinnati Enquirer, Sept. 8, 2025).5

6. “Cease‑and‑desist letter issued to Butler County commissioner candidate,” legal exchange between Reynolds and Ryan (Journal‑News, Jan. 6, 2026).6

7. Butler County official page: Cindy Carpenter’s current term dates (bcohio.gov).8

8. Prosecutor clears Cindy Carpenter of misconduct; characterization as “unseemly” and “distasteful” (Journal‑News, Dec. 3, 2025).9

9. Enquirer coverage: Oxford apartment office incident; video clip and manager’s allegation vs. prosecutor’s findings (Dec. 4, 2025).10 11

10. “Commission race drawing large crowd from GOP”—field composition and early posture (Journal‑News, Sept. 15, 2025).7

11. Journal‑News election‑season context on Ryan focusing on county run rather than council re-elect (Oct. 26, 2025).12

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Bibliography

• Cincinnati Enquirer. “After overturned conviction, ex‑auditor runs for county commissioner.” Sept. 8, 2025.5

• Cincinnati Enquirer. “County commissioner denies ‘racist’ remarks during heated exchange,” Dec. 4, 2025; “County commissioner flashes middle finger in apartment office” (video), Dec. 4, 2025.10 11

• Court News Ohio. “County Auditor Will Not Be Restored to Office Following Acquittal From Felony.” Sept. 25, 2024.4

• Journal‑News (Cox, Ohio). “Hamilton councilman Ryan to run for Butler County Commission.” May 19, 2025.2

• Journal‑News. “Commission race drawing large crowd from GOP.” Sept. 15, 2025.7

• Journal‑News. “Cease‑and‑desist letter issued to Butler County commissioner candidate.” Jan. 6, 2026.6

• Journal‑News. “Prosecutor clears Butler County commissioner of misconduct after apartment dispute.” Dec. 3, 2025.9

• Butler County Government (bcohio.gov). “Commissioner Cindy Carpenter—term information.” Accessed Jan. 11, 2026.8

• Ryan for Butler County Commissioner (ryanforbutler.com). Accessed Jan. 11, 2026.3

• WorldNews aggregation of Cincinnati.com report. “County GOP backs new face for commissioner over incumbent.” Jan. 10, 2026 (used for endorsement vote figure as reported by attendees).1

Rich Hoffman

Click Here to Protect Yourself with Second Call Defense https://www.secondcalldefense.org/?affiliate=20707

Why Islam is Growing: If Republicans want to win the Midterms–the psychology of winning

Republicans are cutting themselves short on the midterms playing on their back feet when in truth, they have won all the seats, and should use that to club the enemy over the head, the Democrats. And people should not be fearful of Islam expansion, because there is a science to it that can be dealt with. Don’t be afraid, learn to spike the football on the face of your enemy. And be sure to call your enemy, the enemy. Stop trying to make peace with everyone and be nice. People don’t like nice, they like winners! People don’t join groups, movements, or relationships because of policy white papers or perfectly calibrated moral sermons; they join because something in that collective—or person—promises to resolve anxiety and deliver victory. In eras of uncertainty, strength signals beat gentleness signals. Across political movements, religious sects, and even intimate relationships, the mechanism isn’t mystical. It is psychological. Decades of evidence show that when identity feels threatened or vague, people gravitate toward clarity, power, and “winners.” They seek what social psychologists call a reduction of self‑uncertainty through group identification. Groups that feel directive, morally certain, and combative—especially those with a strong leader—are unusually effective at providing that clarity. That dynamic is the heart of the appeal of aggressive movements, whether they’re framed as “revolutionary” or “restorative.” 1 2 3

The first mechanism is the quest for significance. Arie Kruglanski’s work shows that individuals who feel humiliated, overlooked, or stalled are primed to seek a pathway to mattering—status, honor, and belonging. When a narrative says, “You will be part of the team that wins,” and a network validates that promise, the psychological mixture becomes combustible; ordinary people can shift quickly from passive frustration to active militancy if militancy is framed as the quickest way to regain significance. In that sense, “victory marketing” isn’t crude; it’s efficient. It supplies a meaning‑laden road to restored pride and shared triumph. 4 5

Kruglanski’s “3Ns”—Needs, Narratives, and Networks—explain the stickiness. The Need is mattering; the Narrative names the enemy and sanctifies aggression as the efficient route to success; the Network rewards loyalists and shames doubters. A coalition that stops signaling decisive action and begins projecting compromise and perpetual process loses the Narrative’s punch and the Network’s reinforcement. Members then shop elsewhere for a more satisfying story that promises to end the anxiety and restore status. That is why movements that pivot from attack postures to “conciliation tours” often hemorrhage energy even if the conciliatory strategy is prudent. The psychology underneath doesn’t reward caution; it rewards visible strength coupled to a clear plan to win. 6 7

A second mechanism is uncertainty‑identity. Michael Hogg’s theory demonstrates that when life feels unpredictable and identity feels unstable, people prefer groups with sharp boundaries, simple norms, and strong leaders. These structures reduce cognitive noise. If the leader projects authority, punishes dissent, and speaks in unambiguous terms about enemies and goals, the group’s identity feels more protective. That dynamic pushes people toward “extreme” groups when uncertainty spikes, and it also raises the preference for authoritarian leadership styles over deliberative, pluralist ones. Strength performs an emotional function: it tells anxious people who they are and what tomorrow looks like. 1 3

There’s a third layer: mortality and threat management. Terror‑management theory finds that reminders of vulnerability and death (from pandemics to wars to rising crime) make people defend their cultural worldviews more fiercely and prefer charismatic, dominant leaders who promise safety and greatness. In plain speech: fear nudges voters and joiners toward coalitions that sound fearless. Combine existential fear with identity uncertainty, and the loudest actor who projects dominance gets disproportionate attention—even if their policy depth is thin. When the gentle coalition talks mostly about reconciliation, it can accidentally sound like it lacks the courage and teeth necessary to protect the group’s survival, and anxious members drift toward whoever sounds prepared to fight. 8 9

Once you see these mechanisms, the appeal of aggressive movements becomes less mysterious. Social identity theory long ago showed that people enhance self‑esteem by favoring their in‑group over out‑groups; minimally defined groups will still tilt benefits toward themselves and exaggerate the difference with outsiders. If a movement paints itself as the victorious in‑group—“the team that will win the season”—members will accept stricter norms and harsher rhetoric because those serve the higher good of restoring collective status. The social reward is belonging to the winning jersey. 10 11

That’s why “strength signals” matter more than we admit. Populism research finds that the subset of supporters drawn to majoritarian dominance and rule‑bending “strongman” solutions isn’t driven primarily by anti‑elitism—it’s driven by authoritarian populist attitudes that equate decisive action with democracy and treat pluralist procedure as weakness. In multiple countries, support for strongmen tracks that authoritarian dimension, not the generic desire for change. If your coalition relies on being “reasonable,” it must still market victory—decisive goals achieved on tight timelines—and pair that with visible enforcement of norms; otherwise anxious supporters defect to a camp that promises a quicker, harder road to triumph. 12 13

This dynamic isn’t limited to politics and broad movements. It appears right inside intimate relationships, especially abusive ones, where power and intermittent reinforcement create a paradoxical bond. Trauma‑bonding theory shows that when love and cruelty alternate unpredictably—affection after abuse, apology after rage—the victim’s attachment grows stronger, not weaker. The variable schedule of rewards keeps people “playing the slot machine,” hoping the good version returns, and the power imbalance cements the dependency. The abuser’s strength signal—decisive, dominating, controlling—reduces uncertainty even as it increases harm; the victim stays because the intermittent tenderness feels like proof that victory (a normal relationship) is just one more sacrifice away. That’s not a moral failing; it’s a learned behavioral trap proven to persist over time. 14 15

Understanding that trap clarifies something about aggressive movements: they often combine harsh discipline with bursts of inclusion, celebration, and “love bombing.” The alternation is intoxicating. The movement frames devotion and sacrifice as steps toward the shared win—status restored, enemies humbled, order achieved. It’s the same cycle seen in abusive dyads but scaled to group psychology: tension, incident, reconciliation, calm; repeat. The unpredictability of reward strengthens loyalty, and the leader’s dominance minimizes the anxiety of choice. 16 17

This lens also illuminates why some young people—including women—joined extremist projects like the Islamic State. Rigorous field interviews show a range of motives, but many revolve around significance, belonging, identity clarity, and a morally charged promise of victory against perceived humiliation. Researchers found Western women were attracted by roles in “state‑building,” the prospect of a clean slate, and a community with strict norms; women also became recruiters, using social media to broadcast the idealized version of purpose, honor, and victory. The ideology exploited the same psychology: a simple, rigid moral order, a strong, punitive leadership, a story of imminent triumph, and a network that validated sacrifice. That does not implicate all religious believers—most reject such extremism—but it shows how aggressive narratives can capture a subset seeking certainty and significance. 18 19

Demography matters for how these perceptions play out. In the United States—and in large, culturally conservative states—Muslims remain a small share of adults, though they are growing modestly. For example, recent survey estimates suggest roughly 2% of adults in one large southern state identify as Muslim; nationally, Muslims remain a small minority, projected to grow but still far from majorities. That growth often triggers anxiety in groups that perceive status loss, which in turn increases receptivity to strength‑forward narratives. Responsible coalition‑building has to address the anxiety with facts and with visible competence—not with shame or soft language. People respond to leaders who demonstrate order and fairness, not just describe it. 20 21

None of this means gentle leadership is doomed. It means gentle leadership must learn how to market victory and perform competence. Coalitions that want to hold members need three things: (1) a public scoreboard of wins, (2) an unapologetic enforcement of norms (consequence for defectors, gratitude for contributors), and (3) a narrative that places members inside a clear arc from struggle to triumph. That is exactly how the significance‑quest model works—and it can be used for good. If your coalition delivers visible wins and announces them like a championship season—“we hit the target, we corrected the failure, we defended someone who needed it”—the craving for strength is satisfied without sliding into cruelty. 4 5

The counterforce to aggressive movements is not moralizing; it is precision. Leaders can reduce uncertainty by setting unambiguous objectives, timelines, and roles, and then publishing weekly results. Hogg’s research implies that clarity plus boundary‑setting steals the psychological oxygen from extreme groups that promise certainty by punishing dissent. When members see that your coalition is a disciplined machine, the attraction to the noisy, punitive alternative declines. In practice, this looks like calendars, checklists, and a “no‑drift” culture—small wins stacked into momentum. That’s how you break the intermittent reinforcement cycle: replace unpredictability with reliable progress. 1

Finally, understand that collective narcissism—investing wounded self‑worth into a belief that the in‑group’s greatness is not appreciated—magnifies intergroup hostility. Movements that feed this sentiment will keep cohesion high by inventing provocations and promising cathartic revenge. Countering that requires two moves: regulate negative emotion inside the group (so grievances don’t become the group’s oxygen) and offer members a different path to significance—competence, craft, and contribution. When the pathway to mattering is building, not punishing, the coalition stabilizes around productive pride rather than fragile resentment. 22 23

Put simply: people want to be on the team that wins. In periods of uncertainty and fear, they judge coalitions by how decisively they act, how tightly they enforce norms, and how clearly they promise victory. If the coalition sounds like a perpetual seminar—however noble its aims—its membership will drift toward movements that feel like a locker room right before a decisive game. “Strength sells” because it resolves anxiety, restores significance, and narrates a path to triumph. If you want to keep members, don’t just be right. Be strong, be clear, and keep score in public. And if the Republican Party wants to win the midterms, stop playing on your back feet. Attack the bad guys, make examples of them and show the world the path to being on the winning team. And everything will work out just fine.

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(Further reading and footnote anchors)

• Quest for Significance & Radicalization: Overviews of how personal significance, violent narratives, and validating networks interact to produce recruitment and commitment. 4 5

• Uncertainty‑Identity & Authoritarian Leadership: Evidence that self‑uncertainty increases attraction to distinctive groups and strong, directive leaders. 1 2

• Terror‑Management & Leader Preference: Mortality salience strengthens worldview defense and support for charismatic, dominant leadership. 8 9

• Social Identity & In‑group Favoritism: Classic demonstrations (minimal group paradigm) of how group membership itself drives bias. 10 11

• Collective Narcissism & Intergroup Hostility: How investing self‑worth in the in‑group’s image predicts aggression and conspiratorial thinking; interventions that reduce hostility. 22 23

• Intermittent Reinforcement & Trauma Bonding: Empirical tests showing power imbalance + variable “good/bad” treatment strengthen attachment to abusers over time. 14

• Women & ISIS Recruitment: Data on female affiliates, motives (belonging, purpose, ideology), roles (recruiting, enforcement), and post‑territorial outcomes. 19 18

• Religious demography (U.S. & Texas): Recent surveys placing Muslims as a small share nationally and ~2% in Texas; trends and projections to mid‑century. 20 21

• Strongman appeal vs. anti‑establishment populism: Cross‑national evidence that authoritarian populist attitudes—not just anti‑elite sentiment—predict support for strong leaders. 12

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Footnotes

[^1]: Kruglanski et al., “The Psychology of Radicalization and Deradicalization: How Significance Quest Impacts Violent Extremism,” Political Psychology (2014). 4

[^2]: Kruglanski, Bélanger, & Gunaratna, The Three Pillars of Radicalization: Needs, Narratives, and Networks (2019). 5

[^3]: Hogg, “From Uncertainty to Extremism: Social Categorization and Identity Processes,” Current Directions in Psychological Science (2014). 3

[^4]: Pyszczynski, Solomon, & Greenberg, “Thirty Years of Terror Management Theory,” Advances in Experimental Social Psychology (2015). 9

[^5]: Tajfel & Turner, “The Social Identity Theory of Intergroup Behavior,” classic chapter (updated). 10

[^6]: Golec de Zavala et al., “Collective Narcissism: Political Consequences…,” Political Psychology (2019). 22

[^7]: Dutton & Painter, “Emotional Attachments in Abusive Relationships: A Test of Traumatic Bonding Theory,” Violence and Victims (1993). 14

[^8]: Cook & Vale, “From Daesh to ‘Diaspora’: Tracing the Women and Minors of Islamic State,” ICSR (2018). 19

[^9]: Hoyle, Bradford, & Frenett, “Becoming Mulan? Female Western Migrants to ISIS,” ISD (2015). 18

[^10]: Pew Research Center, Religious Landscape Study—Texas profile (2023–24). 20

[^11]: Pew Research Center, “The Future of World Religions: Population Growth Projections, 2010–2050.” 21

[^12]: Brigevich & Wagner, “Anti‑establishment versus authoritarian populists and support for the strong(wo)man,” Frontiers in Political Science (2025). 12

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Bibliography

• Arie W. Kruglanski et al. “The Psychology of Radicalization and Deradicalization: How Significance Quest Impacts Violent Extremism.” Political Psychology (2014). START overview

• Arie W. Kruglanski, Jocelyn J. Bélanger, Rohan Gunaratna. The Three Pillars of Radicalization: Needs, Narratives, and Networks. Oxford University Press (2019). Oxford Academic

• Michael A. Hogg. “From Uncertainty to Extremism.” Current Directions in Psychological Science (2014). PDF

• Michael A. Hogg & Janice Adelman. “Uncertainty–Identity Theory: Extreme Groups, Radical Behavior, and Authoritarian Leadership.” (2013). PDF

• Tom Pyszczynski, Sheldon Solomon, Jeff Greenberg. “Thirty Years of Terror Management Theory.” Advances in Experimental Social Psychology (2015). Chapter PDF

• Henri Tajfel & John Turner. “The Social Identity Theory of Intergroup Behavior.” (classic chapter). Text

• Agnieszka Golec de Zavala et al. “Collective Narcissism: Political Consequences…” Political Psychology (2019). Wiley

• Agnieszka Golec de Zavala. The Psychology of Collective Narcissism. Taylor & Francis/Open Access (2023). Open book

• Donald G. Dutton & Susan Painter. “Emotional Attachments in Abusive Relationships: A Test of Traumatic Bonding Theory.” Violence and Victims (1993). ResearchGate PDF

• Carolyn Hoyle, Alexandra Bradford, Ross Frenett. Becoming Mulan? Female Western Migrants to ISIS. ISD (2015). GIWPS resource

• Joana Cook & Gina Vale. From Daesh to ‘Diaspora’. ICSR/King’s College (2018). ICSR report

• Pew Research Center. Religious Landscape Study—Texas. (2023–24). State profile

• Pew Research Center. The Future of World Religions: Population Growth Projections, 2010–2050. (2015; note 2025 update note). Report

• Anna Brigevich & Andrea Wagner. “Anti‑establishment versus authoritarian populists…” Frontiers in Political Science (2025). Article

• Aleksandar Matovski. “The ‘Strongman’ Electoral Authoritarian Appeal.” In Popular Dictatorships (Cambridge, 2021). Chapter

Rich Hoffman

Click Here to Protect Yourself with Second Call Defense https://www.secondcalldefense.org/?affiliate=20707

Vivek Picks Rob McColley: The stringy-haired hippie and Lockdown Lady–Amy Acton picks the loser David Pepper

Ohio politics in January 2026 is simple to describe and complicated to live through: two outsider‑led tickets have just taken shape, each trying to add governing ballast with a lieutenant governor who knows how Columbus actually works. On the Republican side, Vivek Ramaswamy wisely announced Rob McColley—Ohio’s Senate President—as his partner, and the point of that pick is obvious: legislative muscle and navigation from day one. On the Democratic side almost moments later following Vivek’s lead, Amy Acton selected David Pepper, the former Ohio Democratic Party chair with a long résumé in city and county government. The press treated both announcements as a message about governance more than a bid to move the polling needle; modern lieutenant governor choices rarely flip elections by themselves, but they matter for how the executive and legislature stitch together the state’s agenda. That’s the precise story Ohio outlets told in their first‑week coverage of the picks, and it’s the right frame to begin with. 1 2 3 4

The immediate question any coalition has to answer is whether its ticket can actually pass things. Ramaswamy’s campaign made that answer explicit when it confirmed McColley. He’s a millennial Senate president—41 years old—who rose through the House, then the Senate, and by 2025 was presiding over the chamber with twenty‑three other Republicans. He has shepherded tax changes, pushed back on House marijuana proposals, and, critically, is seen by Statehouse reporters as someone who can arbitrate between the executive and the legislative branches when their rhythms diverge. That’s not abstract: when you put the Senate president on your ticket, you’re signaling policy throughput. Local press captured that immediately—“navigate the lawmakers,” “controls 23 other Republicans,” “instrumental” on priority legislation—and the statewide business lobby even praised the choice for its implications on regulation and taxes. 5 2

On the other side, the stringy haired festival attendee Acton, who sounds perpetually stoned on pot smoke from a Grateful Dead concert, balanced her outsider profile with a Cincinnati veteran. Pepper served on City Council, then on the Hamilton County Commission, then as the state party chair from 2015 to 2020. Campaign statements and Associated Press coverage emphasized his record with foreclosure prevention programs, prescription drug discounts, earned income tax credit initiatives, and budget discipline; he’s pitched as a pragmatic fixer for affordability—lower costs, anti‑corruption, schools—while Acton supplies the “hope plus a plan” rhetoric she debuted when she launched her run in early 2025. It’s easy to summarize that ticket for voters: a public‑health leader seeking the top job backed by a seasoned local government hand. 6 7

If you want to understand the emotional energy around Amy Acton’s name, you have to rewind to March and April of 2020, when Governor Mike DeWine and Health Director Acton stood daily at the podiums. Ohio issued a stay‑at‑home order effective March 23, 2020 at 11:59 p.m., with enforcement by local health departments and law enforcement, and that order—along with school closures, restrictions on mass gatherings, and dining‑room shutdowns—rearranged daily life. Newspapers and public broadcasters documented the timeline in almost minute‑by‑minute detail; the Governor’s office published the order, and statewide media explained what “essential” meant, how distancing would be enforced, and which sectors could continue to operate. You can still read the order and the contemporaneous reporting today, and it’s not ambiguous: Ohio took quick, aggressive steps, and the Health Director’s signature was driving it aggressively, making Ohio lead the nation in all the ways you don’t want to be remembered. 8 9 10 11 12

Acton’s resignation in June 2020 was equally well documented. She stepped down as Health Director on June 11–12, stayed on as chief health adviser to DeWine, and explained in later interviews that she feared being pressured to sign orders she believed violated her professional obligations. ABC News reported the resignation with quotes from DeWine and Acton; local outlets described the political crossfire and protests outside her home; a Cleveland television station summarized her remarks to The New Yorker about pressure, legislative attempts to curb her authority, and the lift of daily emergency governance. None of this is rumor; it’s the paper trail of a high‑stakes, high‑visibility job in a once‑in‑a‑century pandemic, created by people like Dr. Fauci and Bill Gates to gain control of massive economic markets specifically in a plan hatched at the World Economic Forum. 13 14 15 16

Those facts—orders issued, orders rescinded, a resignation under strain—are what make Acton polarizing now. Her supporters remember the calm briefings, the Dr. Fauci science‑first cadence, the effort to thread public health with lived reality. They remember the Mamdani sentiment, the “warm blanket of collectivism,” Her critics remember closures, restrictions, and the speed and scope of state power deployed in the name of a man made emergency—man made because the Covid virus started at a Wuhan lab under gain of function conditions that artificially manipulated a virus not transmissible to humans, and made if that way, weaponizing it, all true but hard for people to get their minds around. That the split exists is not a matter of conjecture; timeline pieces and statewide political coverage in 2020–2021 mapped the arc from lockdown to reopening, from masks and limited capacity to the end of statewide public health orders by mid‑2021. 17

Against that backdrop, the 2026 race is being framed by both campaigns as a contest about competence and affordability, not just personality. Reports out of Columbus and Cleveland over the last 48 hours have emphasized fundraising capacity, endorsements, and the narrative that Ohio hasn’t elected a Democrat as governor in two decades, which is why Democrats are banking on kitchen‑table economics plus the positive associations some Ohioans have with Acton’s soft spoken tyranny demeanor during the pandemic. Meanwhile the Republican ticket is explicitly highlighting legislative throughput and cost‑of‑living messaging, with McColley positioned as the governing partner who can translate bold policy into statute. Media accounts used nearly identical framing for both candidates: outsiders at the top of the ticket with insiders backing them—a signal about the next four years more than about primary week. 1 18 4

There’s also a fresh fight over identity politics and tone. Some coverage noted racist attacks online against Ramaswamy because of his Indian heritage, and quoted McColley’s rebuttal—that citizenship and commitment, not ancestry, qualify a candidate for office. Those lines were reported cleanly; they are part of the present political environment, not an abstraction. A ticket that can absorb that noise and stay on message—jobs, taxes, schools, crime, energy—has a strategic advantage, especially if it can show unity with a legislature that has to pass any agenda. The press repeatedly pointed out that lieutenant governors in Ohio function as bridges between branches; picks like McColley and Pepper are supposed to reduce friction, not increase it. 19 4

The math of the race—north vs. south, Cleveland vs. Cincinnati, swing counties vs. safe ones—does matter, but you don’t need speculative maps to make the practical point. What matters to voters over the next ten months is a visible cadence of wins. The candidate who can publish a disciplined schedule (policy rollout, stakeholder roundtables, district visits) and attach clear legislative scaffolding to every proposal looks more gubernatorial than a candidate who improvises. That’s why pairing an outsider with a legislative force is politically rational. Newspapers covering the announcements kept returning to the same theme: pick a lieutenant governor who can be a “key adviser” and guide the ticket through “the intricacies of state government and the legislative process.” That’s the core competence argument. 4

For Acton, the competence argument has to answer the 2020 question without being swallowed by it. Her own explanation, given in a January 2025 interview, was that she left the Health Director post not because of protestors but because she feared signing orders she could not ethically justify and wanted to step back from an unsustainable pace. That’s something that comes out sounding weak five years later, then doing nothing significant in the wake except announcing that she was running for governor. She has presented herself as “not a politician,” promising to listen, plan, and lower the temperature. Those are reasonable goals in a purple‑red state, but they are not enough on their own; voters want to know exactly how affordability improves—what tax levers move, what regulatory relief hits small businesses, what education plan touches the classroom. Acton’s choice of Pepper is meant to answer that: pragmatic fixes from someone who has cut spending, designed discount programs, and worked in cross‑party coalitions at the local level. Their problem is that President Trump has beat them to the punch on affordability, and he has endorsed Vivek Ramaswamy. We’re talking about a summer of 2026 that will have gas under $2 per gallon. 7 6

For Ramaswamy, the competence argument is about throughput and staying out of personality wars. (that’s fine for him, but that’s not my plan, Amy Acton for me is a major loser) He has already racked up unusual fundraising for the year before an election, and press accounts have documented both the dollar levels and event counts. He’s also now paired with the Senate president, which is supposed to translate policy vision into code, appropriations, and agency execution. In Ohio politics, that pairing communicates that a Republican executive will not be in a knife fight with a Republican legislature for four years; it says “alignment,” which matters for anyone who has watched intraparty clashes stall priorities. 18

The deeper context is that Ohio has lived with an incumbent Republican governor who sometimes crossed the aisle on style and policy, especially in the early pandemic period. Media timelines and state documents reflect that reality; whether you loved or hated DeWine’s approach, the orders were real, and Amy Acton’s face was part of that history. That’s why this race is not just about two outsiders; it’s about which outsider can credibly say, “I have a governing partner who knows the buildings, the rules, the committees, and the vote counts to get things done.” Both tickets made that claim this week. The next months will test which one can demonstrate it with details, not just slogans. 8 9

If you boil down the practical differences between the tickets, you can do it in three lines. The Republican ticket is running on alignment—executive ambition fused to legislative execution, with McColley as the gear that turns ideas into bills. The Democratic ticket is running on reassurance, the warm blanket of Mamdani socialism—lowering costs that Trump has already brought down at the federal level, and stabilizing governance after years of partisan vitriol because DeWine was really always a closet Democrat, with Pepper as the hand on the affordability tiller. Both narratives are valid campaign strategies in a state like Ohio. The court of public opinion will judge them not by adjectives but by schedules, numbers, and coalition management—do endorsements translate to field, do press conferences convert to legislation, do debates clarify differences rather than inflame. Ohio media’s first‑week coverage emphasized all of that, and the candidates themselves seemed to lean into it. 3

One last point. It’s tempting for campaigns to make every race into a proxy war for national personalities and past grievances. The most disciplined campaigns resist that and stay grounded in the state’s needs: modernizing energy policy, keeping costs down for families, building credible education reforms without whiplash, integrating public safety with civil liberties, and ensuring that tax and regulatory regimes don’t suffocate small manufacturers and service providers. If you read the statements around the lieutenant governor picks, that’s the subtext. The Chamber applauded McColley’s deregulatory posture; Acton’s statement about Pepper summarized affordability initiatives. Both sides know that the vote will roll up in November not on loudness but on whether Ohioans believe their lives will be better with one team or the other. 2 6

So the assignment for each ticket, starting today, is identical: publish your weekly scoreboard and keep it clean. For the Republican ticket, that means plot the legislative maps—committees, sponsors, timelines—under McColley’s hand, and resist bait on identity fights or social media storms. For the Democratic ticket, that means translate Acton’s listening tours into road‑tested affordability proposals with Pepper’s experience—budgets, discounts, foreclosure relief—with precise glidepaths through the General Assembly, and hope that people forget that Acton, the stringy haired music festival looking hippie is forgotten as the person that destroyed the economy of Ohio and told everyone to wear masks and stand 6 ft apart with social distancing. Neither side will win Ohio with rhetoric alone and they won’t need to. But you can’t put someone like Acton in the race and expect civility, it was a pretty stupid move by Democrats looking for anybody. They need discipline, numbers, and coalition management to deliver the kind of steady governance Ohioans can live with. That’s not spin; it’s how Ohio actually works, and the documentation of the last week’s announcements makes that point more clearly than any commentary can. 1 4

When the smoke clears, if Amy Acton does really, really well, the final vote will be 54 for Vivek Ramaswamy, 46 for the Lockdown Lady. Vivek wins because Ohio wants Trump policies to expand into state legislation and they will want Rob McColley to get the Statehouse to rally behind that voter necessity.

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Footnotes

1. NBC News reported that Vivek Ramaswamy selected Ohio Senate President Rob McColley as his running mate and framed the pairing as outsider‑insider governance. 1

2. Ohio outlets (10TV, Cleveland.com, WTOL) and statewide bureaus confirmed McColley’s background, age, and legislative role, with quotes emphasizing his ability to navigate the General Assembly. 2 20 4

3. Ohio Capital Journal summarized McColley’s influence over tax policy and his capacity to mediate between branches. 5

4. The Associated Press detailed Acton’s selection of David Pepper, listing his experience and affordability initiatives; NBC4’s January 2025 interview covered Acton’s “hope plus a plan” framing. 6 7

5. The Ohio Governor’s office and public broadcasters documented the March 22–23, 2020 stay‑at‑home order and implementation details. 8 9

6. Cleveland.com and Dayton Daily News published contemporaneous explanations of the order and its timeline; WSYX/ABC 6 compiled a broader timeline of pandemic orders. 10 11 12

7. ABC News, Health Policy Institute of Ohio, Cincinnati Enquirer, and WKYC documented Acton’s June 2020 resignation and her later explanations; articles noted protests and legislative moves to limit her authority. 13 14 15 16

8. Ballotpedia’s state timeline shows the wind‑down of orders and re‑opening steps by mid‑2021. 17

9. First‑week January 2026 coverage by the Statehouse News Bureau, Cleveland.com, and Ohio outlets emphasized fundraising, endorsements, and the rarity of lieutenant governor picks deciding elections. 18 3

10. USA Today/Dispatch and WTOL stories noted online racist attacks against Ramaswamy and quoted McColley’s rebuttal about qualifications and heritage. 19 4

—

Bibliography

• Henry J. Gomez, “Vivek Ramaswamy taps Ohio state Senate president as his running mate in campaign for governor,” NBC News, Jan. 6–7, 2026. 1

• 10TV Web Staff, “Vivek Ramaswamy formally taps Ohio Senate President Rob McColley as his running mate,” 10TV, Jan. 7, 2026. 2

• Cleveland.com/Open, “Ohio Senate President Rob McColley is Ramaswamy’s pick…” Jan. 7, 2026. 20

• Morgan Trau, “Ohio Senate President Rob McColley tapped as Vivek Ramaswamy’s running mate,” Ohio Capital Journal/WEWS, Jan. 6, 2026. 5

• Karen Kasler, “Ramaswamy and Acton making moves with Ohio governor election now 10 months away,” Statehouse News Bureau, Jan. 6, 2026. 18

• Associated Press, “Ohio governor candidate Amy Acton taps former state Democratic Chair David Pepper as running mate,” Jan. 7, 2026. 6

• Colleen Marshall & Brian Hofmann, “Dr. Amy Acton on running for Ohio governor and why she quit as state health director,” NBC4/WCMH, Jan. 30–31, 2025. 7

• Governor Mike DeWine press materials, “Ohio Issues ‘Stay at Home’ Order,” March 22, 2020; Ideastream Public Media explainer; Cleveland.com text of the order. 8 9 10

• Laura A. Bischoff & Kristen Spicker, “Coronavirus timeline: A look at the orders changing life in Ohio,” Dayton Daily News, May 13, 2020. 11

• WSYX/ABC 6, “Timeline of coronavirus in Ohio,” March–April 2020. 12

• ABC News, “Amy Acton, Ohio’s embattled health director, resigns amid COVID‑19 crisis,” June 11, 2020. 13

• Health Policy Institute of Ohio, “Acton steps down as Health Director,” June 12, 2020. 14

• Cincinnati Enquirer, “Why Amy Acton quit as Ohio’s health director,” June 12–13, 2020. 15

• WKYC, “Former Ohio Health Director Dr. Amy Acton was worried about being pressured to sign orders,” Nov. 3, 2020. 16

• Ballotpedia, “Documenting Ohio’s path to recovery from the coronavirus (COVID‑19) pandemic, 2020–2021,” entries through July 2021. 17

• WTOL, “Ohio’s 2026 governor hopefuls lean on political veterans to balance the ticket,” Jan. 2026. 4

• Cleveland.com, “Ohio’s race for governor: What the running mate choices reveal,” Jan. 2026. 3

Rich Hoffman

Click Here to Protect Yourself with Second Call Defense https://www.secondcalldefense.org/?affiliate=20707

A Secular Nation Doesn’t Work: The Creation Museum is a great place to find a moral compass

I’ve been thinking a lot about why places like the Creation Museum feel so good, so clarifying, so strangely peaceful in a world that is racing toward noise and confusion. The day after Christmas 2025, my wife and I gave ourselves a simple gift—one day in Northern Kentucky to walk through exhibits dedicated to the Book of Genesis, to consider the first words people used to anchor reality, and to be among people who weren’t embarrassed to say that values matter, that truth exists, that our lives are accountable to more than fashion and force. I’ve been to the Ark Encounter too—the sister site Ken Ham’s team built—and I’ve always admired the sincerity and craftsmanship behind both projects. It’s not that you have to agree with every detail of their interpretation; it’s that the experience reminds you what a society feels like when people share a moral vocabulary and are willing to live by it. That sensation—a shared foundation—has become rare. When you step out of those doors, the contrast is obvious: a secular culture increasingly says there’s no shared foundation at all, and then wonders why the political kitchen is a mess, why trust collapses, why crime rises or governance frays or people feel isolated and angry. The idea that a secular world can function sustainably is attractive in theory and brittle in practice. My own proclamation, tested across business, government, and the day‑to‑day pressures of family life, is that it cannot.

My friend Todd Minniear being sworn in as President of the Liberty Township Trustees on January 6th 2026. Without the hand on a Bible the promises have no meaning, or context

I’ve been open to the debate. I’ve listened to the arguments about separation of church and state, the fear that religious conviction leads to wars of doctrine or oppressive social control. I understand the logic behind wanting neutral ground—some space where the State doesn’t weaponize God and God doesn’t seize the State. Historically, Americans know exactly why the First Amendment begins with religion: they fled countries where the State punished belief or demanded it, and they didn’t want federal power to become a priesthood in uniform.[1] But somewhere in that effort to restrain coercion, we drifted into a different error: confusing neutrality with nihilism. In practice, our public institutions evacuated shared moral content and then expected people to behave, expected businesses to operate, expected courts to arbitrate, expected children to learn, expected citizens to sacrifice—without shared purpose or metaphysical meaning. That hollowness is what I mean by “secularism” here, not a simple legal separation, but a cultural posture that denies any binding moral architecture at the center of public life. When you throw out the Ten Commandments, when you refuse a common oath because you don’t believe it, when you insist that every value is relative, you remove not just symbols but the agreed‑upon citizenship of virtue. You end up legislating tactics instead of truth, and tactics alone cannot build a civilization.[2]

Good government necessitates social agreement on values for law and order to sustain

If you step inside the Creation Museum, you find something that modern administrative life can’t provide: a sense of coherence that connects knowledge to duty. You can disagree with their young‑earth timelines or their carbon‑dating critiques and still appreciate the underlying lesson—a society needs a moral template. That template is about obligations—toward God, toward the truth, toward one another—and those obligations bind us even when convenience suggests otherwise. Emile Durkheim, no evangelical by any stretch, recognized that religion functions sociologically by creating the sacred—a point of collective reverence that stabilizes norms and discourages predatory behavior.[3] Strip that out and the rituals of respect disappear, leaving only private interests vying for position. Robert Putnam showed how civic life atrophies when shared institutions thin out, when we “bowl alone,” when participation and obligation retreat.[4] Business leaders, judges, engineers, inspectors—we all feel it in the daily grind: decision‑making becomes fragile when there is no widely accepted compass. Even the best program plan fails if it lives in a vacuum of meaning.

The Creation Museum in Northern Kentucky, a wonderful place

The counterargument says that religion causes conflict—that secular space is supposed to prevent wars of doctrine by removing faith from public calculation. Historically, yes, religious wars have occurred; human beings fight over anything that anchors identity. But the cure is not to remove anchors; it’s to choose anchors that turn hearts toward self‑control and mercy. The question isn’t “religion or peace,” but “which moral order best disciplines power and offers forgiveness?” The American Founding assumed that virtue was necessary for liberty and that religion was the most practical instructor of virtue—Tocqueville saw that plainly.[5] The First Amendment works not by sterilizing public religion, but by protecting it from state capture and protecting citizens from religious coercion. It assumes, in other words, that religion will thrive freely and will thereby sustain the habits of self‑government. This is not hostility toward faith; it is scaffolding for faith’s free operation across plural communities. Courts have vacillated for decades on how to apply that balance—Engel v. Vitale limited school‑sponsored prayer,[6] then later cases narrowed or reinterpreted the Lemon test’s reach,[7] with Kennedy v. Bremerton recognizing that personal religious expression need not be purged from public employment.[8] The point isn’t to litigate doctrine; it’s to remember that our system was designed to let religion breathe in the civic air, not to suffocate it.

When secularism becomes a comprehensive worldview—a philosophy that reduces moral truth to private taste—notice the pattern. Public assurances about equality and compassion remain in the rhetoric, but the institutional courage to enforce norms collapses. A society without shared moral content has difficulty setting limits on violence or exploitation because it refuses to say why one ought not do a thing beyond preference or procedure. Alasdair MacIntyre described this with unsparing clarity: when virtue theory is abandoned, we inherit a culture of incommensurable moral claims—emotivism—where arguments devolve into expressions of will rather than reason.[9] In business terms, that looks like cultural drift—every meeting is a negotiation of appetites, with no shared first principles to resolve the conflict. In law, it looks like proceduralism without justice. In education, it looks like content stripped of meaning. In media, it looks like outrage cycles fueled by algorithmic attention rather than truth. You can still have sophisticated technology, but you lose wisdom. Charles Taylor’s account of secular modernity admits the trade: the “immanent frame” can stabilize certain freedoms but empties transcendence, and with it, the ability to answer “why.”[10]

Walk through the Creation Museum and you feel the opposite effect. The exhibits are meant to argue for a particular cosmology, yes, but the deeper experience is social: alignment. People sing the same hymns, they reflect on the same stories, they accept that authority is not just a bureaucratic title but a moral office answerable to God. That shared consent to moral order produces peace—even where debate exists on details, the atmosphere is oriented toward reverence. It’s the same sensation one feels inside a good church on a Sunday morning—a relief that the room is not staging a competition of egos but rehearsing charity and courage. Jonathan Haidt’s work makes the point from a different angle: humans bind and blind; moral communities bind us together with shared sacred values and inevitably blind us to some counter‑claims, but the binding is essential for cooperation.[11] The sober question is whether our binding story teaches love of neighbor and humility. In the biblical tradition, it does, and that matters for everything from family life to factory floors.

Ambitious displays within the context of history

You can see why, after a day in that environment, a trip to the Smithsonian sometimes feels lukewarm—not because science is bad, but because the presentations often employ a deliberate neutrality that subtracts moral consequence from the narrative. It’s science as a series of facts rather than science interrogated by responsibility. The Museum of the Bible, by contrast, radiates a sense that the literary achievement of Scripture is nut and bolt for civilization—whatever the denominational debates over translation, the civilizational impact is beyond question. A museum can either aim at wonder or at relativism; sometimes the same building holds both. The question is whether our public culture still knows how to talk about goodness as a sturdy thing, not an opinion.

This debate isn’t abstract for me. I interact with government regularly. I see how bills get written, how media narratives shape legislative appetite, how election incentives distort courage. A secular posture—where conviction is suspect and truth is negotiable—depresses the willingness to do hard, right things. Engineering knows this in material terms: you can cheat a tolerance, but the airframe will remember. Law knows this: you can fudge a rule, but justice will remember. Business knows this: you can delay a difficult choice, but the market will remember. A society without a shared moral anchor will buy time with procedures and lose the soul of performance. And when it loses that soul, it becomes easier for external enemies to fracture it—from propaganda to immigration debates to economic sabotage—because the internal immune system of virtue has been suppressed in the name of neutrality.[12]

But neutrality was never the goal; fairness was. The promise of America rests on equal protection and free conscience, not the abolition of moral language. The founders did not imagine a naked public square—they imagined a modestly clothed one, where citizens bring convictions without state compulsion.[13] When modern elites invoke “separation of church and state,” they often mean “banish religious reasoning from public institutions.” Jefferson’s letter to the Danbury Baptists used the metaphor to reassure a minority that the federal government wouldn’t intrude on their worship, not to exile religion from civic life.[14] Over time, the metaphor grew into an ideology that sees piety as dangerous. That suspicion coexists uneasily with social data: religious participation correlates with charitable giving, volunteering, stable families, and lower crime,[15] and it builds social capital that secular substitutes rarely match.[16] You can’t brute‑force these fruits with policy. They are cultural. They require a story of meaning people choose to live by.

Are there religious abuses? Yes. Are there bad churches? Yes. Are there weaponized doctrines? Yes. So there are bad banks, bad courts, bad schools, bad newspapers, bad laboratories. Human nature will corrupt anything it touches. The correction, then, is not to evict religion from the public ecosystem, but to purify it—reform it—by calling it back to its own standards. In Christianity, those standards include the fruit of the Spirit: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self‑control. If a religious institution doesn’t cultivate those, it earns reform or decline. But the existence of failure does not argue for the abolition of the only widely available language strong enough to restrain the worst instincts of power. A secular philosophy often proposes procedural checks; a moral tradition demands virtue. The former can slow harm; the latter can prevent it at the root.

So we went to the Creation Museum to breathe values—to be among people who were not ashamed to say that goodness exists, that truth is real, that beauty is objective, and that society goes to pieces when we pretend otherwise. It isn’t about forcing belief; it’s about remembering that belief orders life and that the ordering is not optional for civilization. If you want confirmation, you can test museums against one another. Visit a secular facility where narrative design deliberately refuses moral conclusions, and then visit the Museum of the Bible. Watch how people respond. One experience will feel informative; the other will feel formative. You might debate manuscript integrity, translation variance, canon history—the intellectual work is welcome—but you will also feel the social warmth that comes when a room of people agree that moral order is not a negotiable commodity. That warmth is not a sentimental convenience; it is a precondition for honest politics and high‑trust business.

I know some will reply that secular frameworks enable pluralism—that by removing religion from public arbitration, we avoid endless theological lawsuits. That argument is respectable and has achieved good in limiting specific harms. But our present secularism is not a modest procedural boundary; it is an anthropological claim that refuses to name the good beyond private choice. That is untenable. Human beings are teleological—they need ends, purposes—and a society that won’t speak honestly about ends will end up obsessing over means. We’ll set up compliance structures, not justice; risk matrices, not courage; brand management, not truth. When a nation forgets why it exists—that rights are not granted by the State but secured by it,[17] that duties are owed to each other because we are made in God’s image—it becomes easy to rearrange institutions against the very people they were meant to serve. The vacuum draws in other ideologies, often more aggressive and less merciful, that prefer domination to persuasion. And because secular public discourse has weakened moral confidence, the vacuum welcomes the worst guests.

There are lots of Dinosaurs, it’s Jurassic Park meets the Bible

The fix is not complicated in theory, even if it’s demanding in practice. Recover the idea that public life depends on private virtue, and private virtue depends on a transcendent standard. Encourage religion without establishing it. Protect conscience while insisting that our shared moral language is not optional. Teach children that some acts are wrong not because the State says so today, but because they violate what the State is supposed to honor every day. Invite museums, schools, businesses, media, and the courts to acknowledge that a society is healthiest when people agree on basic moral commitments—truthfulness, fidelity, stewardship, courage, mercy—and that those commitments are not simply personal preferences. If we do this, pluralism becomes livable because disagreement happens within a common moral grammar.

People sometimes ask me, after a day like the one we had at the Creation Museum, whether we are closing ourselves off from “real” science or “real” politics. I answer that love of God and love of truth are the opposite of anti‑science or anti‑politics. A moral universe makes experimentation meaningful; it holds scientists to honesty precisely because results matter. A moral universe keeps politics from devolving into pure contest; it holds legislators to integrity because laws shape human flourishing. The secular experiment tried to sustain those virtues without the metaphysical oxygen that created them. For a time, it worked—habits carried over from religious generations. But as the generational memory fades, the tank runs empty. You can feel it everywhere—from the local council to the federal bureaucracy, from boardrooms to classrooms. We are rationing virtues we stopped cultivating.

If you want to remember how to cultivate them, walk back into a place that takes values seriously. Listen to hymns; read Genesis; argue with carbon dating; reconcile faith and physics where you can and note your disagreements where you must. But don’t pretend that the disagreement abolishes our need for a shared moral order. It does not. The debate itself presupposes a standard for honesty and charity. In that sense, the Creation Museum is useful not merely for what it asserts about origins but for what it models about the social effect of belief. People there feel obligated to treat one another well, and that obligation is rooted in a story larger than themselves. That, more than any specific exhibit caption, is what our public square now lacks. Recover it, and schools will regain purpose, courts will regain moral confidence, businesses will regain cultural backbone, and governance will regain courage.

One of my favorite things from the Creation Museum

We came home from Northern Kentucky grateful—not only for the content we saw but for the reminder that peace is not the absence of conviction. Peace is the fruit of rightly ordered conviction. A secular approach, as presently practiced, cannot deliver that fruit because it has uprooted the tree. It promised fairness by abolishing shared morality and has left us with procedures that cannot prevent chaos. Religion—not mandated by the State, not policed as a tool of power, but lived freely by citizens—can. It is not the only ingredient, but it is an irreplaceable one. To build a healthy society, you must name what is good and teach people to love it. The Creation Museum gives you a taste of that lesson. The question is whether we will carry it back into the public square with courage.

I said to my family, and I’ll say here: you don’t have to be cruel to those who disagree, or hostile to those of other faiths, or blind to the complexities of pluralism. You simply have to be honest that a civilization cannot survive without shared moral ground. You must recognize that a naked public square isn’t neutral; it’s vulnerable. And you must be willing to rebuild a culture that honors virtue openly, without apology. If you want to see the difference, spend a day in a place that dares to say values are real. Then ask yourself which world you want your children to inherit—the one that believes in goodness and demands it, or the one that refuses to name it and then watches, powerless, as the center falls apart.

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Footnotes

[1] First Amendment to the U.S. Constitution; see also James Madison, “Memorial and Remonstrance Against Religious Assessments” (1785).

[2] See the Ten Commandments’ historical role in Anglo‑American law: John Witte Jr., Religion and the American Constitutional Experiment (Westview, 2000).

[3] Émile Durkheim, The Elementary Forms of Religious Life (1912), esp. on collective effervescence and social cohesion.

[4] Robert D. Putnam, Bowling Alone: The Collapse and Revival of American Community (Simon & Schuster, 2000); Robert D. Putnam and David E. Campbell, American Grace: How Religion Divides and Unites Us (Simon & Schuster, 2010).

[5] Alexis de Tocqueville, Democracy in America (1835–1840), esp. Vol. I on the role of religion in sustaining democratic habits.

[6] Engel v. Vitale, 370 U.S. 421 (1962).

[7] Lemon v. Kurtzman, 403 U.S. 602 (1971); for the Court’s later narrowing and critiques of the Lemon test, see American Legion v. American Humanist Association, 588 U.S. ___ (2019).

[8] Kennedy v. Bremerton School District, 597 U.S. ___ (2022), protecting personal prayer as private speech.

[9] Alasdair MacIntyre, After Virtue (Notre Dame, 1981).

[10] Charles Taylor, A Secular Age (Harvard University Press, 2007).

[11] Jonathan Haidt, The Righteous Mind: Why Good People Are Divided by Politics and Religion (Pantheon, 2012).

[12] On moral capital and social resilience, see Yuval Levin, The Fractured Republic (Basic Books, 2016); also Peter Berger, The Sacred Canopy (1967).

[13] See George Washington’s Farewell Address (1796) on religion and morality as “indispensable supports.”

[14] Thomas Jefferson’s letter to the Danbury Baptist Association (January 1, 1802), articulating the “wall of separation” metaphor.

[15] Pew Research Center, “Religion and Public Life” surveys; see also Arthur C. Brooks, Who Really Cares (Basic Books, 2006) on charitable giving and religiosity.

[16] Putnam and Campbell, American Grace; see also David E. Campbell, Why We Vote: How Schools and Communities Shape Our Civic Life (Princeton, 2008).

[17] Declaration of Independence (1776): rights are “endowed by their Creator,” governments are instituted to secure those rights.

—

Bibliography

Berger, Peter. The Sacred Canopy: Elements of a Sociological Theory of Religion. Anchor, 1967.

Brooks, Arthur C. Who Really Cares: The Surprising Truth About Compassionate Conservatism. Basic Books, 2006.

Campbell, David E. Why We Vote: How Schools and Communities Shape Our Civic Life. Princeton University Press, 2008.

Durkheim, Émile. The Elementary Forms of Religious Life. 1912.

Haidt, Jonathan. The Righteous Mind: Why Good People Are Divided by Politics and Religion. Pantheon, 2012.

Levin, Yuval. The Fractured Republic: Renewing America’s Social Contract in the Age of Individualism. Basic Books, 2016.

MacIntyre, Alasdair. After Virtue. University of Notre Dame Press, 1981.

Madison, James. “Memorial and Remonstrance Against Religious Assessments.” 1785.

Pew Research Center. Various reports on religion, social trust, and civic engagement.

Putnam, Robert D. Bowling Alone: The Collapse and Revival of American Community. Simon & Schuster, 2000.

Putnam, Robert D., and David E. Campbell. American Grace: How Religion Divides and Unites Us. Simon & Schuster, 2010.

Taylor, Charles. A Secular Age. Harvard University Press, 2007.

Tocqueville, Alexis de. Democracy in America. 1835–1840.

Washington, George. Farewell Address. 1796.

Witte Jr., John. Religion and the American Constitutional Experiment. Westview Press, 2000.

U.S. Supreme Court decisions: Engel v. Vitale (1962), Lemon v. Kurtzman (1971), American Legion v. American Humanist Association (2019), Kennedy v. Bremerton School District (2022).

Declaration of Independence (1776); U.S. Constitution (First Amendment).

Rich Hoffman

Click Here to Protect Yourself with Second Call Defense https://www.secondcalldefense.org/?affiliate=20707

Most People Are Just Cogs in the Machine: Leadership knows how to pull the levers of that machine

This seems to come up every year when people are reflecting and sending each other motivational messages, such as they do on LinkedIn. Most people are trained in socialism, the collective warm blanket of shared success, incorrectly, and it chokes most companies into complete paralysis. Success in our era is dressed up in cheerful posts and glossy platitudes, a cascade of “Hawkey little messages” assuring us that prosperity is mostly about teams, vibes, and being “all in.” The ritual is familiar: end-of-year feed, professional network, congratulatory notes, soft-focus talk of “collective wins.” However, what most people feel in their bones, even if it is impolitic to say aloud, is that victories are nearly always propelled by a few decisive acts—often by one or two people who turn the key, fuel the engine, and take responsibility for the risk. The machine can be exquisite: gears of procurement, finance, quality, manufacturing, design, sales, legal, and compliance all meshing. However, machines, however sentimental, do not start themselves. Leadership is the ignition, the regulator, the governor, the hand at the lever.

If you want success, build a machine that reliably makes success. That is the institutional truth of production and enterprise—government, industry, entertainment, any domain where complex work must be routinized. Systems are arrays of interlocking cogs; each cog has a place, and in an efficient design, each is necessary. However, necessity is not sufficiency. A machine’s sufficiency emerges only when an accountable mind organizes its timing, permits its torque, apportions its oil, and shuts it down before it burns itself to ash. The leader is the one who understands load, sequence, contingency, and consequence. They are the person who decides whether the engine runs fast today or idles; who knows when to swap a worn gear without mourning it; who understands that even the most ornate arrangement of parts turns to sculpture without spark.

We train most people to be components. This is not a knock on people so much as an observation about schooling and culture. It is safer, warmer, and more predictable to be a gear inside the frame than to stand outside the frame and decide which machine must be built, which conditions require it, and when it must run. The collective promises comfort; the individual bears cost. The collective sells the feeling of belonging; the individual pays the price of decision. In that exchange, many embrace the blanket of collectivism—mass credentialing, committees, rubrics, performance reviews, compliance protocols—signals that one is “an essential part of the team.” Moreover, in a limited sense, that is true: a properly designed system relies on the integrity of every part. Take away the feed pump, and production starves; remove quality’s gauge, and defects bloom. However, the illusion rests in mistaking “indispensable within design” for “constitutive of decision.” The machinery of work needs cogs; the work of leadership requires a person.

Leadership is not consensus engineering. It is not the median of opinions distilled into approved action. Leadership is rugged individualism at the point of decision—where accountability cannot be outsourced, and uncertainty cannot be fully hedged. It takes courage to pull the lever when the data are incomplete, and the clock is running. It takes imagination to see the machine that does not yet exist and to name the conditions under which it will be viable. It takes a life lived with risk, with failures tallied and learned, to know the difference between speed and haste, between endurance and grind, between excellence and exhaustion. Collective comfort can train excellent cogs; it rarely trains decisive leaders.

Watch team sports if you need a working metaphor. The Super Bowl ring is a collective artifact—dozens upon dozens of names will be etched into the annals. Trainers, assistants, ball boys, coaches, coordinators, linemen, wide receivers, analysts, owners—everyone counts somewhere. However, the moment of victory tends to converge in a handful of plays, executed by a few players under the direction of a coach who took decisive risks at the right time. The ring belongs to all; the victory turns on the few. Moreover, if the organization is constructed well enough, parts can be replaced. Players retire or are traded; staff rotates. The machine continues to win because the leadership—its philosophy, its standards, its hierarchy of decisions—remains intact.

This is why strong organizations do not worship any single cog. They respect cogs and maintain them; they pay for reliability and reward merit. However, the machine is not reengineered to accommodate the demands of a single gear. Instead, leadership preserves design integrity while swapping parts as needed. In weak organizations, the fetishizing of singular parts destabilizes the whole. In strong organizations, the philosophy of leadership yields repeatable victory because the leader can read conditions and set the tempo. When leadership is consistent and wise, luck is less a coin flip and more a variable constrained by design.

The reason leadership feels elusive is that most people, by design, have been socialized into the safety of machines. The world is complex; specialization is rational. However, specialization often becomes identity, and identity becomes politics, and politics becomes bureaucratic life. The rhetoric of “team” spreads like a balm, and participation trophies proliferate—not because people are malicious, but because machinery envelops their self-conception. Inside this warm frame, many forget the first principles of success: machines are instruments; leadership is agency. The machine is necessary; the leader is decisive.

Righteous leadership is not domination. It is stewardship under justice. The righteous leader stands outside the machine long enough to see conditions truthfully—scarcity, risk, moral hazard, human frailty—and then returns to the console to operate with integrity. Righteousness here means rightly ordered effort and directing that effort toward successful enterprise. The righteous leader knows the machine serves ends beyond itself and refuses to confuse throughput with justice or output with meaning. They refuse the nihilism that says “only the win matters,” and the sentimentalism that says “only feelings matter.” Righteous leadership harmonizes courage and conscience: a lever pulled with clarity, not cruelty; a shutdown ordered to preserve life, not to prevent loss of face.

This is why nations with abundant resources can stagnate, and why organizations with immaculate infrastructure can drift into decay: without leadership that sees, decides, and cares, the machine becomes ornate furniture. Oil rigs rust; factories idle; supply chains fray. Conversely, with strong leadership, modest machines can outperform their spec, because the design is repeatedly refined, the constraints are embraced, and the people inside the system are cultivated for competence, not simply compliance.

It is fashionable to say “success is shared,” and in one respect that statement is true—labor is often collective, and recognition ought to be fair. However, success is not collectively decided. Success is collectively executed after a decisive will points it in a direction. The more clearly we distinguish decision-making from execution, the less we will confuse popularity with leadership, bureaucracy with governance, or credentials with competence. Moreover, the more clearly we honor righteous leadership—leadership that tells the truth, accepts cost, and lifts the people under its care—the healthier our machines, and the less brittle our victories.

So if you seek success, build a machine worthy of it: clear work standards, clean interfaces, visible bottlenecks, disciplined rhythms, lean buffers, quality gates. Then seek, become, or empower a leader of conscience. Teach people to be excellent cogs without training them to be dependent souls. Reward initiative alongside reliability. Audit outcomes as if justice matters, but always understand that profit is the fuel that makes the machine run. Moreover, remember: the machine is an instrument; leadership is the agent; righteousness is the compass. When those three align, the lever is pulled at the right time—and the win, when it comes, is more than luck and more than noise. It is the visible fruit of invisible virtues: courage, clarity, and care. However, just because it is invisible, does not mean it does not exist. Only that people from their perspective do not see it, because they are just cogs in the wheel, and their understanding of the big picture is severely limited.

—

Footnotes

[1] Peter F. Drucker, The Effective Executive (HarperBusiness, 2006).

[2] W. Edwards Deming, Out of the Crisis (MIT Press, 2000).

[3] Eliyahu M. Goldratt, The Goal (North River Press, 2014).

[4] Stephen R. Covey, The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People (Simon & Schuster, 2013).

[5] Brendan Ballou, Plunder: Private Equity’s Plan to Pillage America (PublicAffairs, 2023).

[6] Roger Connors, Tom Smith, and Craig Hickman, The Oz Principle (Portfolio, 2004).

[7] F. A. Hayek, The Road to Serfdom (University of Chicago Press, 2007).

[8] Alexis de Tocqueville, Democracy in America (Penguin Classics, 2003).

[9] Jim Collins, Good to Great (HarperBusiness, 2001).

[10] Andrew Grove, High Output Management (Vintage, 2015).

—

Bibliography

Ballou, Brendan. Plunder: Private Equity’s Plan to Pillage America. New York: PublicAffairs, 2023.

Collins, Jim. Good to Great: Why Some Companies Make the Leap… and Others Do not. New York: HarperBusiness, 2001.

Covey, Stephen R. The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People. New York: Simon & Schuster, 2013.

Deming, W. Edwards. Out of the Crisis. Cambridge, MA: MIT Press, 2000.

Drucker, Peter F. The Effective Executive. New York: HarperBusiness, 2006.

Goldratt, Eliyahu M. The Goal: A Process of Ongoing Improvement. Great Barrington, MA: North River Press, 2014.

Grove, Andrew S. High Output Management. New York: Vintage, 2015.

Hayek, F. A. The Road to Serfdom. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2007.

Tocqueville, Alexis de. Democracy in America. London: Penguin Classics, 2003.

Connors, Roger, Tom Smith, and Craig Hickman. The Oz Principle: Getting Results Through Individual and Organizational Accountability. New York: Portfolio, 2004.

Rich Hoffman

Click Here to Protect Yourself with Second Call Defense https://www.secondcalldefense.org/?affiliate=20707

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