
When the ‘World’s Cop’ drops the rulebook
The end of an order and the scramble for what’s next?

The end of an order and the scramble for what’s next?

THE NEW WORLD MAGAZINE: The latest issue features ‘Iran on the Ropes’….
A president without decency or any interest in policy runs America like a TV show: gripping its audience with shocks, suspense and relentless action
It’s wildly overvalued, politically extreme and puts Trump first – but somehow has £1bn of deals to run Britain’s tech infrastructure
For decades, US survivalists have warned about a future with troops on the street and plain-clothes goons disappearing the White House’s enemies. Now it’s all happening under Trump, they are silent

FOREIGN AFFAIRS MAGAZINE: The latest issue features ‘How Strong Are The Strongmen?’
What Really Threatens Authoritarians? Stephen Kotkin
What Can Reverse Democratic Decline? By Steven Levitsky, Lucan A. Way, and Daniel Ziblatt
Authoritarian Cooperation Is Reshaping the Global Order by Nic Cheeseman, Matías Bianchi, and Jennifer Cyr
Beijing’s Strategy to Seize the New Frontiers of Power by Elizabeth Economy

The Economist The World Ahead 2026 (November 13, 2025):
This is Donald Trump’s world—we’re all just living in it. The disruptor-in-chief was the biggest factor shaping global affairs in 2025, and that will be the case for as long as he remains in the White House. His norm-shattering approach has caused turmoil in some areas (as in trade) but has also delivered diplomatic results (as in Gaza) and forced necessary change (as with European defence spending). As the Trumpnado spins on in 2026, here are ten trends and themes to watch in the coming year.
Expect to hear wildly diverging accounts of America’s past, present and future, as Republicans and Democrats describe the same country in irreconcilably different terms to mark the 250th anniversary of its founding. Voters will then give their verdict on America’s future in the midterm elections in November. But even if the Democrats take the House, Mr Trump’s rule by bullying, tariffs and executive orders will go on.
Foreign-policy analysts are divided: is the world in a new cold war, between blocs led by America and China, or will a Trumpian deal divide the planet into American, Russian and Chinese “spheres of influence”, in which each can do as they please? Don’t count on either. Mr Trump prefers a transactional approach based on instinct, not grand geopolitical paradigms. The old global rules-based order will drift and decay further. But “coalitions of the willing” will strike new deals in areas such as defence, trade and climate.
With luck, the fragile peace in Gaza will hold. But conflicts will grind on in Ukraine, Sudan and Myanmar. Russia and China will test America’s commitment to its allies with “grey-zone” provocations in northern Europe and the South China Sea. As the line between war and peace becomes ever more blurred, tensions will rise in the Arctic, in orbit, on the sea floor and in cyberspace.
All this poses a particular test for Europe. It must increase defence spending, keep America on side, boost economic growth and deal with huge deficits, even though austerity risks stoking support for hard-right parties. It also wants to remain a leading advocate for free trade and greenery. It cannot do all of these at once. A splurge on defence spending may lift growth, but only slightly.
China has its own problems, with deflation, slowing growth and an industrial glut, but Mr Trump’s “America First” policy opens up new opportunities for China to boost its global influence. It will present itself as a more reliable partner, particularly in the global south, where it is striking a string of trade agreements. It is happy to do tactical deals with Mr Trump on soyabeans or chips. The trick will be to keep relations with America transactional, not confrontational.With rich countries living beyond their means, the risk of a bond-market crisis is growing
So far America’s economy is proving more resilient than many expected to Mr Trump’s tariffs, but they will dampen global growth. And with rich countries living beyond their means, the risk of a bond-market crisis is growing. Much will depend on the replacement of Jerome Powell as chair of the Federal Reserve in May; politicising the Fed could trigger a market showdown.
Rampant spending on infrastructure for artificial intelligence may also be concealing economic weakness in America. Will the bubble burst? As with railways, electricity and the internet, a crash would not mean that the technology does not have real value. But it could have wide economic impact. Either way, concern about AI’s impact on jobs, particularly those of graduates, will deepen.
Limiting warming to 1.5°C is off the table, and Mr Trump hates renewables. But global emissions have probably peaked, clean tech is booming across the global south and firms will meet or exceed their climate targets—but will keep quiet about it to avoid Mr Trump’s ire. Geothermal energy is worth watching.
Sport can always be relied upon to provide a break from politics, right? Well, maybe not in 2026. The football World Cup is being jointly hosted by America, Canada and Mexico, whose relations are strained. Fans may stay away. But the Enhanced Games, in Las Vegas, may be even more controversial: athletes can use performance-enhancing drugs. Is it cheating—or just different?
Better, cheaper GLP-1 weight-loss drugs are coming, and in pill form, too. That will expand access. But is taking them cheating? GLP-1s extend the debate about the ethics of performance-enhancing drugs to a far wider group than athletes or bodybuilders. Few people compete in the Olympics. But anyone can take part in the Ozempic games.

FOREIGN AFFAIRS MAGAZINE: The latest issue features ‘The New Tools of Power’
And the End of Rising Powers by Michael Beckley
How to Build an Economic and Security Order That Works for America by Oren Cass
Fortress America Is Not a Safer America by Shannon K. O’Neil
An Old Tool Creating New Dangers Jason Bordoff and Meghan L. O’Sullivan

THE ECONOMIST SPECIAL REPORT: Governments going broke – In many of the world’s big economies, public finances are heading for a crisis. Henry Curr argues the consequences will be profound


FOREIGN AFFAIRS MAGAZINE: The latest issue features ‘The Weaponized World Economy’
Surviving the New Age of Economic Coercion by Henry Farrell and Abraham Newman
Who Profits in a Post-American World? Adam S. Posen
Beijing’s Enduring Formula for Wealth and Power by Dan Wang and Arthur Kroeber
Remaking Rules From the Ruins of the Rules-Based System by Michael B. G. Froman
BY INTELLICUREAN, JULY 21, 2025:

In the summer of 2025, former President Donald Trump and Commerce Secretary Howard Lutnick unveiled a bold proposal: the creation of an External Revenue Service (ERS), a federal agency designed to collect tariffs, fees, and other payments from foreign entities. Framed as a patriotic pivot toward self-sufficiency, the ERS would transform the U.S. government from a tax-funded service provider into a revenue-generating enterprise, capable of offsetting domestic tax burdens through external extraction. The idea, while politically magnetic, raises profound questions: Can the U.S. federal government become a “for-profit” entity? And if so, can the ERS be a legitimate mechanism for such a transformation?
This essay argues that while the concept of external revenue generation is not unprecedented, the rebranding of the U.S. government as a profit-seeking enterprise risks undermining its foundational principles. The ERS proposal conflates revenue with legitimacy, and profit with power, leading to a fundamental misunderstanding of the government’s role in society. We explore the constitutional, economic, and geopolitical dimensions of the ERS proposal, drawing on recent analyses from the Peterson Institute for International Economics, The Diplomat, and The New Yorker, to assess its fiscal viability, strategic risks, and national security implications.
The U.S. Constitution grants Congress the power to “lay and collect Taxes, Duties, Imposts and Excises” and to “regulate Commerce with foreign Nations” (Article I, Section 8). These provisions clearly authorize the federal government to generate revenue through tariffs and fees. Historically, tariffs served as a primary source of federal income, funding everything from infrastructure to military expansion during the 19th century.
However, the Constitution does not envision the government as a profit-maximizing entity. Its purpose, as articulated in the Preamble, is to “establish Justice, ensure domestic Tranquility, provide for the common defence, [and] promote the general Welfare.” These are public goods, not commercial outputs. The government’s legitimacy is grounded in its service to the people—not in its ability to generate surplus revenue.
The Federal Reserve offers a useful analogy here. While not a for-profit institution, the Fed earns more than it spends through its monetary operations—primarily interest on government securities—and remits excess income to the Treasury. Between 2011 and 2021, these remittances totaled over $920 billion. But this is not “profit” in the corporate sense. The Fed’s primary mandate is macroeconomic stability, not shareholder returns. Even during economic stress (as seen in 2022–2025), the Fed may run negative remittances, underscoring its non-commercial orientation.
In contrast, the ERS is framed as a profit center—an entity designed to extract wealth from foreign actors to reduce domestic tax burdens. This shift raises critical questions: Who are the “customers” of the ERS? What are the “products” it offers? And what happens when profit motives collide with diplomatic or humanitarian priorities?
A rigorous analysis of Trump’s proposed tariffs comes from Chad P. Bown and Melina Kolb at the Peterson Institute for International Economics. In their April 2025 briefing, they use a global economic model to estimate the gross and net revenue generated by tariffs of 10%, 15%, and 20% on all imported goods.
Their findings are sobering:
These findings underscore a crucial distinction: tariffs are not free money. They impose costs on consumers, disrupt supply chains, and invite countermeasures. The ERS may collect billions, but its net contribution to fiscal health is far more modest—and potentially negative if retaliation escalates.
Additionally, tariff revenue is volatile and politically contingent. Tariffs can be reversed by executive order, invalidated by courts, or rendered moot by trade realignment. In short, the ERS lacks the predictability and stability necessary for a legitimate fiscal foundation. Tariffs are a risky and politically charged mechanism for revenue generation—making them an unreliable cornerstone for the country’s fiscal health.
Beyond economics, the ERS proposal carries significant geopolitical risks. In The Diplomat, Thiago de Aragao warns of a phenomenon he calls reverse friendshoring—where companies, instead of relocating supply chains away from China, move closer to it in response to U.S. tariffs.
The logic is simple: If exporting to the U.S. becomes prohibitively expensive, firms may pivot to serving Asian markets, leveraging China’s mature infrastructure and consumer base. This could undermine the strategic goal of decoupling from Chinese influence, potentially strengthening Beijing’s economic hand.
Examples abound:
This unpredictability erodes trust in U.S. trade policy and incentivizes supply chain diversification away from the U.S. As Aragao notes, “Protectionism may offer a temporary illusion of control, but in the long run, it risks pushing businesses away.”
The ERS, by monetizing tariffs, could accelerate this trend. If foreign firms perceive the U.S. as a hostile or unstable market, they will seek alternatives. And if allies are treated as adversaries, the strategic architecture of friendshoring collapses, leaving the U.S. economically isolated and diplomatically weakened.
Perhaps the most damning critique of the ERS comes from Cullen Hendrix at the Peterson Institute, who argues that imposing tariffs on U.S. allies undermines national security. The U.S. alliance network spans over 60 countries, accounting for 38% of global GDP. These partnerships enhance deterrence, enable forward basing, and create markets for U.S. defense exports.
Tariffs—especially those framed as revenue tools—erode alliance cohesion. They signal that economic extraction trumps strategic cooperation. Hendrix warns that “treating alliance partners like trade adversaries will further increase intra-alliance frictions, weaken collective deterrence, and invite potential adversaries—none better positioned than China—to exploit these divisions.”
Moreover, the ERS’s indiscriminate approach—levying duties on both allies and rivals—blurs the line between economic policy and coercive diplomacy. It transforms trade into a zero-sum game, where even friends are fair targets. This undermines the credibility of U.S. commitments and may prompt allies to seek alternative trade and security arrangements.
The ERS proposal is not merely a policy—it’s a performance. Nowhere is this clearer than in Howard Lutnick’s keynote at the Hill and Valley Forum, as reported in The New Yorker on July 21, 2025. Addressing a room of venture capitalists, defense contractors, and policymakers, Lutnick attempted to explain trade deficits using personal analogies: “I have a trade deficit with my barber,” he said. “I have a trade deficit with my grocery store. Right? I just buy stuff from them. That’s ridiculous.”
The crowd, described as “sophisticated tech and finance attendees,” was visibly uncomfortable. Lutnick’s analogies, while populist in tone, misread the room and revealed a deeper disconnect between economic complexity and simplistic transactionalism. As one attendee noted, “It’s obvious why Lutnick’s affect appeals to Trump. But it’s Bessent’s presence in the Administration that reassures us there is someone smart looking out for us.”
This contrast between Lutnick and Treasury Secretary Scott Bessent is telling. Bessent, who reportedly flew to Mar-a-Lago to urge Trump to pause the tariffs, represents the limits of ideological fervor when confronted with institutional complexity. Lutnick, by contrast, champions the ERS as a populist vessel—a way to turn deficits into dues, relationships into revenue, and governance into a business plan.
The ERS, then, is not just a fiscal experiment—it’s a philosophical battleground. Lutnick’s vision of government as a money-making enterprise may resonate with populist frustration, but it risks trivializing the structural and diplomatic intricacies of global trade. His “barber economics” may play well on cable news, but it falters under scrutiny from economists, allies, and institutional stewards.
The idea of a “for-profit” U.S. government, embodied in the External Revenue Service, is seductive in its simplicity. It promises fiscal relief without domestic taxation, strategic leverage through economic pressure, and a reassertion of American dominance in global trade. But beneath the surface lies a tangle of contradictions.
Constitutionally, the federal government is designed to serve—not to sell. Its legitimacy flows from the consent of the governed, not the extraction of foreign wealth. Economically, tariffs may generate gross revenue, but their net contribution is constrained by retaliation, inflation, and supply chain disruption. Strategically, the ERS risks alienating allies, incentivizing reverse friendshoring, and weakening collective security.
With Howard Lutnick as the plan’s leading voice—offering anecdotes like the barber and grocery store as proxies for international trade—the ERS becomes more than a revenue mechanism; it becomes a prism for reflecting the Administration’s governing style: transactional, simplified, and rhetorically appealing, yet divorced from systemic nuance. His “barber economics” may evoke applause from certain circles, but in the forums that shape long-term policy, it has landed with discomfort and disbelief.
The comparison between Lutnick and Treasury Secretary Scott Bessent, as reported in The New Yorker, captures this divide. Bessent, attempting to temper Trump’s protectionist instincts, represents the limits of ideological fervor when confronted with institutional complexity. Lutnick, by contrast, champions the ERS as a populist vessel—a way to turn deficits into dues, relationships into revenue, and governance into a business plan.
Yet governance is not a business, and the nation’s global responsibilities cannot be monetized like a corporate balance sheet. If America begins to treat its allies as clients, its rivals as profit centers, and its global footprint as a monetizable asset, it risks transforming foreign policy into a ledger—and leadership into a transaction.
The External Revenue Service, in its current form, fails to reconcile profit with purpose. It monetizes strength but neglects stewardship. It harvests dollars but undermines trust. And in doing so, it invites a broader reckoning—not just about trade and taxation, but about what kind of republic America wishes to be. For now, the ERS remains an emblem of ambition unmoored from architecture, where the dream of profit collides with the duty to govern.
THIS ESSAY WAS WRITTEN AND EDITED BY INTELLICUREAN USING AI

Is the United States truly ready for the seismic shift in modern warfare—a transformation that The New Yorker‘s veteran war correspondent describes not as evolution but as rupture? In “Is the U.S. Ready for the Next War?” (July 14, 2025), Dexter Filkins captures this tectonic realignment through a mosaic of battlefield reportage, strategic insight, and ethical reflection. His central thesis is both urgent and unsettling: that America, long mythologized for its martial supremacy, is culturally and institutionally unprepared for the emerging realities of war. The enemy is no longer just a rival state but also time itself—conflict is being rewritten in code, and the old machines can no longer keep pace.
The piece opens with a gripping image: a Ukrainian drone factory producing a thousand airborne machines daily, each costing just $500. Improvised, nimble, and devastating, these drones have inflicted disproportionate damage on Russian forces. Their success signals a paradigm shift—conflict has moved from regiments to swarms, from steel to software. Yet the deeper concern is not merely technological; it is cultural. The article is less a call to arms than a call to reimagine. Victory in future wars, it suggests, will depend not on weaponry alone, but on judgment, agility, and a conscience fit for the digital age.
At the heart of the analysis lies a confrontation between two worldviews. On one side stands Silicon Valley—fast, improvisational, and software-driven. On the other: the Pentagon—layered, cautious, and locked in Cold War-era processes. One of the central figures is Palmer Luckey, the founder of the defense tech company Anduril, depicted as a symbol of insurgent innovation. Once a video game prodigy, he now leads teams designing autonomous weapons that can be manufactured as quickly as IKEA furniture and deployed without extensive oversight. His world thrives on rapid iteration, where warfare is treated like code—modular, scalable, and adaptive.
This approach clashes with the military’s entrenched bureaucracy. Procurement cycles stretch for years. Communication between service branches remains fractured. Even American ships and planes often operate on incompatible systems. A war simulation over Taiwan underscores this dysfunction: satellites failed to coordinate with aircraft, naval assets couldn’t link with space-based systems, and U.S. forces were paralyzed by their own institutional fragmentation. The problem wasn’t technology—it was organization.
What emerges is a portrait of a defense apparatus unable to act as a coherent whole. The fragmentation stems from a structure built for another era—one that now privileges process over flexibility. In contrast, adversaries operate with fluidity, leveraging technological agility as a force multiplier. Slowness, once a symptom of deliberation, has become a strategic liability.
The tension explored here is more than operational; it is civilizational. Can a democratic state tolerate the speed and autonomy now required in combat? Can institutions built for deliberation respond in milliseconds? These are not just questions of infrastructure, but of governance and identity. In the coming conflicts, latency may be lethal, and fragmentation fatal.
To frame the stakes, the essay draws on powerful historical precedents. Technological transformation has always arisen from moments of existential pressure: Prussia’s use of railways to reimagine logistics, the Gulf War’s precision missiles, and, most profoundly, the Manhattan Project. These were not the products of administrative order but of chaotic urgency, unleashed imagination, and institutional risk-taking.
During the Manhattan Project, multiple experimental paths were pursued simultaneously, protocols were bent, and innovation surged from competition. Today, however, America’s defense culture has shifted toward procedural conservatism. Risk is minimized; innovation is formalized. Bureaucracy may protect against error, but it also stifles the volatility that made American defense dynamic in the past.
This critique extends beyond the military. A broader cultural stagnation is implied: a nation that fears disruption more than defeat. If imagination is outsourced to private startups—entities beyond the reach of democratic accountability—strategic coherence may erode. Tactical agility cannot compensate for an atrophied civic center. The essay doesn’t argue for scrapping government institutions, but for reigniting their creative core. Defense must not only be efficient; it must be intellectually alive.
Perhaps the most haunting dimension of the essay lies in its treatment of ethics. As autonomous systems proliferate—from loitering drones to AI-driven targeting software—the space for human judgment begins to vanish. Some militaries, like Israel’s, still preserve a “human-in-the-loop” model where a person retains final authority. But this safeguard is fragile. The march toward autonomy is relentless.
The implications are grave. When decisions to kill are handed to algorithms trained on probability and sensor data, who bears responsibility? Engineers? Programmers? Military officers? The author references DeepMind’s Demis Hassabis, who warns of the ease with which powerful systems can be repurposed for malign ends. Yet the more chilling possibility is not malevolence, but moral atrophy: a world where judgment is no longer expected or practiced.
Combat, if rendered frictionless and remote, may also become civically invisible. Democratic oversight depends on consequence—and when warfare is managed through silent systems and distant screens, that consequence becomes harder to feel. A nation that no longer confronts the human cost of its defense decisions risks sliding into apathy. Autonomy may bring tactical superiority, but also ethical drift.
Throughout, the article avoids hysteria, opting instead for measured reflection. Its central moral question is timeless: Can conscience survive velocity? In wars of machines, will there still be room for the deliberation that defines democratic life?
The closing argument is not tactical, but philosophical. Readiness, the essay insists, must be measured not just by stockpiles or software, but by the moral posture of a society—its ability to govern the tools it creates. Military power divorced from democratic deliberation is not strength, but fragility. Supremacy must be earned anew, through foresight, imagination, and accountability.
The challenge ahead is not just to match adversaries in drones or data, but to uphold the principles that give those tools meaning. Institutions must be built to respond, but also to reflect. Weapons must be precise—but judgment must be present. The republic’s defense must operate at the speed of code while staying rooted in the values of a self-governing people.
The author leaves us with a final provocation: The future will not wait for consensus—but neither can it be left to systems that have forgotten how to ask questions. In this, his work becomes less a study in strategy than a meditation on civic responsibility. The real arsenal is not material—it is ethical. And readiness begins not in the factories of drones, but in the minds that decide when and why to use them.
THIS ESSAY REVIEW WAS WRITTEN BY AI AND EDITED BY INTELLICUREAN.
In the July 11, 2025 episode of Bloomberg Law’s Weekend Law podcast, the spotlight turned to the Supreme Court and one of the most urgent constitutional questions of the present era: can the federal government deny citizenship to children born in the United States based solely on their parents’ immigration status?
At the center of the discussion was a new executive order issued by the Trump administration. The order aims to withhold automatic citizenship from children born to undocumented immigrants. In response, a federal judge in New Hampshire has not only issued a temporary nationwide block on the order but also certified a class-action lawsuit that could have sweeping implications.

This development, as legal analyst and former DOJ official Leon Fresco explained, is not merely procedural—it is strategic. The case, still in its early stages, may force the Supreme Court to revisit the meaning of the Fourteenth Amendment’s Citizenship Clause.
Fresco’s key insight concerned how litigants are adapting to recent changes in judicial thinking. After the Supreme Court expressed skepticism toward broad nationwide injunctions, many believed such tools were effectively dead. But Fresco pointed out that class-action certification remains a viable, and perhaps more precise, alternative.
The New Hampshire judge’s ruling created a nationwide class of plaintiffs: all children born on or after February 20, 2025, to parents who are either unlawfully present or not U.S. citizens or lawful permanent residents. The judge carefully excluded parents from the class, narrowing the focus to the children’s citizenship claims. This move strengthens the class’s legal position, emphasizing a uniform constitutional harm.
Fresco characterized this approach as both narrow in structure and expansive in effect. By building the case around a specific constitutional injury—the denial of citizenship by birth—the lawsuit avoids the kinds of inconsistencies that often weaken broader claims.
At the heart of the dispute lies the interpretation of the Citizenship Clause of the Fourteenth Amendment: “All persons born or naturalized in the United States, and subject to the jurisdiction thereof, are citizens of the United States.”
For over a century, the courts have understood this to include virtually everyone born on U.S. soil, with only narrow exceptions. The Trump administration’s order proposes a reinterpretation—arguing that undocumented immigrants and their children are not “subject to the jurisdiction” of the United States in the full constitutional sense.
This argument is novel, but not entirely new. Versions of it have circulated in fringe legal circles for years. What is new is the attempt to enforce this interpretation through executive power. If allowed to stand, it would mark a major departure from long-established constitutional norms.
Fresco raised a more immediate concern: that the Supreme Court may avoid ruling on the merits of the case altogether—at least for now. The Court, he warned, might grant a temporary stay that would allow the executive order to take effect while the lawsuit works its way through the lower courts.
This would mirror a pattern seen in other immigration cases, such as those involving Temporary Protected Status and humanitarian parole, where short procedural rulings allowed sweeping policy shifts without a full constitutional review.
The danger of such a stay is not theoretical. If the executive order goes into effect, children born under it would enter legal limbo. Denied citizenship, they would lack basic documents and protections. Challenging their status later could take years—possibly decades. In this way, even a temporary policy can create permanent consequences.
A central theme of the podcast segment was the evolving role of the judiciary in overseeing executive actions. Fresco questioned how the Court could reject a class-action lawsuit like this one without also undermining the logic that allows nationwide relief in other types of cases—such as defective products that cause uniform harm across the country.
If the courts are willing to permit class certification for consumer safety, why would they deny it in a case concerning citizenship—a matter of constitutional identity?
Fresco’s analogy was sharp: the law allows national class actions over faulty cribs or pharmaceuticals; why not over a birthright denied?
His point revealed the tension between procedural restraint and constitutional responsibility. If the Court is serious about limiting nationwide injunctions, it must offer a consistent, principled rationale for where it draws the line.
Toward the end of the discussion, Fresco referenced former Attorney General Alberto Gonzalez, who has speculated that the Supreme Court may simply lack the votes to strike down the executive order directly. That possibility may explain the Court’s hesitancy to take up the issue.
Justice Neil Gorsuch’s past remarks—asking how the Court might “get to the merits fast”—suggest at least some justices recognize the urgency. But urgency does not always lead to clarity. If the Court allows the order to take effect temporarily, and then delays review, it could set in motion changes that are difficult to reverse.
In effect, the Court would be allowing the executive branch to reshape constitutional practice through interim decisions. That prospect, Fresco warned, is not only legally unstable but socially volatile.
Ultimately, what this case asks is not only a legal question but a civic one: Is citizenship a stable constitutional right, or can it be redefined by policy?
The class-action strategy now moving through the courts offers one possible defense: a method of forcing judicial engagement by focusing on clear constitutional harm and avoiding broad, unwieldy claims. It is, in Fresco’s words, an effort to meet the Court on its own procedural terms.
Yet the deeper conflict remains. The very idea of birthright citizenship—once considered legally untouchable—is now on trial. Whether the courts decide quickly or delay, the consequences will be lasting.
The Bloomberg Law discussion offered more than a legal update. It revealed how quickly constitutional assumptions can be unsettled—and how creative legal strategies are now being used to hold the line.
The New Hampshire ruling, and the class it created, represent a new phase in this fight. Narrow in scope but vast in significance, the lawsuit calls on the judiciary to answer directly: Is a child born on U.S. soil a citizen, or not?
In that answer lies the future of constitutional meaning—and the measure of whether the law remains anchored to principle, or drifts with the political tide.
THIS ESSAY AND REVIEW WAS WRITTEN BY AI AND EDITED BY INTELLICUREAN