THE ANGLOSPHERIC DIFFERENCE:

The Allure of Eden on Earth: Three books ponder the never-ending search for utopia (Jessa Crispin , September 25, 2026, American Scholar)

Near the end of Journey to Nowhere, Naipaul attends a discussion led by Buckminster Fuller, a utopian architect who believed that one could design a better world with the right ideas, the right architecture, the right urban planning—and the right billionaires converted to the cause. At this particular event, Fuller holds the audience in a state of rapture as he talks about how they can all turn the world into a paradise. “I felt I was working shoulder to shoulder with a chosen few,” Fuller tells the crowd, “a handful of people who were really willing to put their lives out for something beyond themselves.”

“The people here had not come to learn anything,” Naipaul writes. “They had come in search of revelation; they had come to discover how they might save themselves, save mankind, save the world.” And yet here we all still are, half a century on, having the same arguments about the people committed to saving us.

Our Humeian skepticism about Reason has blessedly insulated us from Utopianism.

THAT WAS EASY:

In global first, a next-gen geothermal plant goes live at utility scale (Maria Gallucci, 28 September 2026, Canary)

Cape Station, a $2 billion project that will eventually be 500 MW, is unique among the world’s commercial geothermal plants. While other facilities draw on naturally occurring hot water and steam, Fervo has engineered its own geothermal resource deep underground. The startup uses drilling techniques from the oil and gas industry to create reservoirs in hot, dry rocks that generate steam to produce electricity.

PRETENDING IT’S THE END TO GIVE YOUR LIFE MEANING:

AI has sparked anxiety, earlier generations showed us ways to manage our fears (SACHA PFEIFFER, September 28, 2026, NPR: All Things Considered)

PFEIFFER: Michael Sacasas is a Christian writer who explores the existential side of the technology we use. He’s been thinking lately about an old essay by C.S. Lewis called “On Living In An Atomic Age.“

SACASAS: So this is three years after the first atomic bombs are detonated. The specter of a Cold War is brewing. An arms race is taking shape. And it becomes evident that now humanity possesses these weapons of mass destruction. And he addresses this question right at the outset of this essay – how are we to live in an atomic age? – maybe in the same way that we might be asking now, how do we live in an age of artificial intelligence, if there’s a threat of human extinction, at the most extreme?

So Lewis says if we are all going to be destroyed by an atomic bomb, let that bomb, when it comes, find us doing sensible and human things – praying, working, teaching, reading, listening to music, bathing the children, playing tennis, chatting to our friends over a pint and a game of darts – not huddled together like frightened sheep and thinking about bombs. They may break our bodies, he goes on to say, but they need not dominate our minds.

These very sensible human things that Lewis urges us to do and to find refuge in, in some cases, they are the very things that maybe now we’re tempted to outsource to AI. We surrender our existence. We surrender the tasks, the relationships, the labor, the work, the conversations. But I think maybe that’s the most immediate existential threat – the threat that we give up on existence.

And maybe it’s a gift that, on some occasions now, we have this threat that looms over us that heightens our sense of those moments, our experience of those moments, to remind us that this is actually, at the end of the day, what meaningful life is made up of, what our satisfaction as human beings consists in, in the day-to-day and the ordinary, in our fidelity – to borrow a line from Albert Borgmann – our fidelity to daily tasks through which our care and involvement in the world is expressed.

If you are incapable of (resistant to) doing the things that actually give life meaning–loving one another–apocalypticism is a cheap way to make yourself seem special via the imagined importance of the moment you live in.

GIVEN HOW LITTLE OF WHAT WE WRITE IS WORTH READING…:

AI for Me, but Not for Thee: Dartmouth’s provost raises a tension we should examine. (John Warner, 9/24/26, Inside Higher Ed)

When institutional authorities publish work under their names, should they disclose AI use?


I think the easy answer to this is indisputably, entirely, unquestionably, yes.

If this is now going to be part of the regular practice of academic leadership, they owe the communities they serve full honesty around how these communications that they stand behind were produced.

It’s possible that AI-assisted text production will become normalized in these spaces, particularly when it comes to the kind of boilerplate statements we expect in bureaucratic contexts…

…AI can only help.

LIKE A GAME OF PSYCHOSOMATIC BINGO:

How to Destroy a Lesbian Bar: The scourge of COVID led to drive-by whinings disguised as activism. (Helen Lewis, September 25, 2026, The Atlantic)

My experience pales beside that of Jackie Matellian, the 26-year-old proprietor of the Last Ditch, who, according to the Globe, had run up $50,000 in debt and had been sleeping in her truck as a result of the business’s troubles. She tried to do everything right: The bar was declared to be a safe space for the unhoused, and a no-go zone for police. She and her former co-owners (one of whom uses it/its pronouns) waived the cover charge for anyone who couldn’t pay; more and more patrons took advantage. After the backlash to the change in the mask policy, the bar apologized, explaining that the mask-optional night would help members of the queer community who needed to lip-read. None of this appeased the critics, one of whom felt the bar was insufficiently devoted to “revolutionary praxis,” which is like normal praxis but the discussions you have about it go around and around forever. “How are we supposed to be ‘connected in the revolution’ if we are spreading disease to one another? Nah,” Soe Noire posted.

At this point, Matellian should have realized that you can’t negotiate with terrorists, even ones with long COVID. Instead, though, she optimistically subjected herself to a struggle session—sorry, a mediation-and-accountability process—so that everyone could air their grievances.

The podcast Blocked and Reported, which broke the story of the Last Ditch earlier this month, obtained audio recordings of this meeting, in which pronoun declarations were required. As Katie Herzog, a co-host of the podcast, observed, the participants included “two people named after plants” (Sage and Moss; a third was named Yams). Those attending on Zoom were relentlessly hostile, demanding to know the mediator’s race and whether they would be institutionalized for disclosing any mental-health conditions to her. One of the Last Ditch volunteers told the meeting that the bar was $3,900 in debt and needed to pay within days, but Soe Noire—a self-declared lesbian using he/him pronouns—changed the subject to how the policy change made him feel unsafe. The Last Ditch had failed to uphold “COVID-cautious principles, anti-racism, or revolution,” Noire said. (Reminder: This is a bar. You know, the place where you go to drink beer.)

Most people might be surprised that arguments over masking are still so febrile years after even cautious blue-state schools resumed in-person teaching. But across the United States, some small subcultures live as though it’s still April 2020. That’s because pandemic protections and mitigations quickly became left-coded, to the extent that Donald Trump now has to pretend he didn’t oversee the successful vaccine program. In this context, perma-masking is every bit as much a political symbol as wearing a MAGA hat or a keffiyeh.

Anxiety and depression rates spiked during the pandemic, and some vulnerable people have never really recovered from the effects of physical isolation and the sense of oppressive dread they felt during months when thousands of Americans died. On the right, these emotions drive people toward conspiracism about Chinese bioweapons and false flags and “mass formation psychosis,” the idea that gullible populations were hypnotized into accepting shutdown measures. On the left, these anxieties coincide with a political critique—that Americans and their predatory private-health-care system do not care about disabled people. Masking is a visible symbol of resistance to this injustice, as well as a practical measure against the spread of disease. Notably, too, self-reported long COVID is disproportionately high among trans and bi Americans. Unless science uncovers measurable respiratory differences between bisexuals and the rest of the population, one explanation is that more LGBTQ Americans live in social contexts in which vague, unpleasant symptoms such as brain fog are interpreted as long COVID.

HOMOCENTRISM IS INESCAPABLE:

But is it science?: Theoretical physicists who say the multiverse exists set a dangerous precedent: science based on zero empirical evidence (Jim Baggott, 10/07/19, Aeon)

There is no agreed criterion to distinguish science from pseudoscience, or just plain ordinary bullshit, opening the door to all manner of metaphysics masquerading as science. This is ‘post-empirical’ science, where truth no longer matters, and it is potentially very dangerous.

It’s not difficult to find recent examples. On 8 June 2019, the front cover of New Scientist magazine boldly declared that we’re ‘Inside the Mirrorverse’. Its editors bid us ‘Welcome to the parallel reality that’s hiding in plain sight’.

How you react to such headlines likely depends on your familiarity not only with aspects of modern physics, but also with the sensationalist tendencies of much of the popular-science media. Needless to say, the feature in question is rather less sensational than its headline suggests. It’s about the puzzling difference in the average time that subatomic particles called neutrons will freely undergo radioactive decay, depending on the experimental technique used to measure this – a story unlikely to pique the interests of more than a handful of New Scientist’s readers.

But, as so often happens these days, a few physicists have suggested that this is a problem with ‘a very natural explanation’. They claim that the neutrons are actually flitting between parallel universes. They admit that the chances of proving this are ‘low’, or even ‘zero’, but it doesn’t really matter. When it comes to grabbing attention, inviting that all-important click, or purchase, speculative metaphysics wins hands down.

It would be easy to lay the blame for this at the feet of science journalists or popular-science writers. But it seems that the scientists themselves (and their PR departments) are equally culpable. The New Scientist feature is concerned with the work of Leah Broussard at the US Department of Energy’s Oak Ridge National Laboratory. As far as I can tell, Broussard is engaged in some perfectly respectable experimental research on the properties of neutrons. But she betrays the nature of the game that’s being played when she says: ‘Theorists are very good at evading the traps that experimentalists leave for them. You’ll always find someone who’s happy to keep the idea alive.’

The ‘mirrorverse’ is just one more in a long line of so-called multiverse theories. These theories are based on the notion that our Universe is not unique, that there exists a large number of other universes that somehow sit alongside or parallel to our own. For example, in the so-called Many-Worlds interpretation of quantum mechanics, there are universes containing our parallel selves, identical to us but for their different experiences of quantum physics. These theories are attractive to some few theoretical physicists and philosophers, but there is absolutely no empirical evidence for them. And, as it seems we can’t ever experience these other universes, there will never be any evidence for them. As Broussard explained, these theories are sufficiently slippery to duck any kind of challenge that experimentalists might try to throw at them, and there’s always someone happy to keep the idea alive.

NOT JUST CRITTER FOOD:

The case for America’s original superfood — the acorn: The nut is popping up on menus and in cookbooks, and experts are working to breed a sweeter variety, which could lead to a new era of acorn eating. (Kate Morgan, 9/27/26, Washington Post)


As autumn descends, it’s nearly impossible to ignore the acorns as they thunk onto roofs and burst like popcorn under car tires. The U.S. Forest Service estimates that there are about 40 billion oak trees in the United States, and as the weather cools, they begin to drop a bounty of nuts — an all-important food source for squirrels and chipmunks, deer, bears, birds and other animals.

But acorns aren’t just critter food. For a long time, they were an important food staple for people, too. Before colonization, Indigenous North Americans were especially dependent on acorns, says Sean Sherman, an Oglala Lakota chef known as the Sioux Chef. “It was such a massive, important part of their diet,” he says.

Acorns were dried or roasted, ground into flour and used to make porridges, soups and breads. “They were getting most of their carbs and essential fats from acorns,” Sherman says. “They’re highly nutritious.”

Acorns contain essential vitamins and minerals, including a big dose of manganese, folate, and vitamins E and B6, and they are rich in antioxidants. And it’s looking like acorns could be the next popular superfood: They have been popping up on the menus at popular restaurants, in cookbooks and in food influencer content. Some tree breeders, food scientists and chefs are working to put the humble acorn back on our plates.

THE DARWINIST RIGHT IS SO FRENCH:

Demographic Fears and Far-Right Fantasies: Alexandra Minna Stern explores the eugenic fantasies and enduring legacy of Jean Raspail’s 1973 novel ‘The Camp of the Saints.’ (Alexandra Minna Stern, September 26, 2026, LA Review of Books)

The French New Right was led by thinkers such as Alain de Benoist, who founded the Groupement de Recherche et d’Études pour la Civilisation Européenne (Group for Research and Study of European Civilization, or GRECE), which promoted anti-egalitarianism and the veneration of authentic European identity. Purportedly inspired by the Italian neo-Marxist Antonio Gramsci’s concepts of cultural hegemony and “war of position,” the French New Right incubated ethnonationalism and identitarianism in scholarly and cultural niches. It emphasized themes such as authenticity, borders, patriarchy, and the threat of immigration to national identity. It also contested changing gender norms and the rise of a worldwide liberal order allegedly masterminded by global organizations such as the United Nations, with its Universal Declaration of Human Rights. The New Right decried policies that loosened immigration restrictions and promoted the social inclusion of minorities and women in education, the workplace, and politics.

Across the Atlantic, The Camp of the Saints was embraced by ideologues like Wilmot Robertson, who spearheaded proposals for a white ethnostate and published the antisemitic journal Instauration from 1975 to 2000. Instauration’s inaugural issue in December 1975 featured a review of Camp of the Saints as a “cautionary anti-epic” that is a “brilliant inquest of the West, the fictional climax of a racial inundation that started long ago,” and “leaves the reader reeling with doom.” As historian of ecofascism Miroslava Chávez-García has shown, the American white nationalist Garrett Hardin, who popularized the term “the tragedy of the commons,” praised Camp of the Saints and its exhortation to “save” Western society. Twenty years after its initial release, at a time when anti-Mexican racism pervaded California and on the heels of the passage of anti-immigrant Proposition 187, Hardin cited the novel to a Los Angeles Times reporter, carping about immigrants and opining that “things look much closer to that book than they did 10 years ago.”

The Camp of the Saints has been accreting influence for five decades. From the perspective of the United States, it gestures to early 20th-century tales about the Jukes and the Kallikaks, in which one bad seed turned an entire family line dysgenic, and generated an “army of idiots and imbeciles” that defiled society. Additionally, the book sits downstream from The Passing of the Great Race: Or, The Racial Basis of European History by Madison Grant. Published in 1916, this treatise of demographic downfall foretold the demise of the United States under waves of immigration from Southern Europe, Asia, and other parts of the globe. The Passing of the Great Race served as a repository of (flawed) data and a nativist justification for the passage, in 1924, of the draconian Johnson-Reed Act, which placed strict quotas on immigrants from countries outside of Western Europe. Like Camp of the Saints, Grant’s tract has been reissued by far-right publishers, most notably in a 2016 centennial edition. It has been referenced by Stephen Miller and other MAGA extremists as inspiration for policies of so-called remigration, forced removal, and an end to birthright citizenship.

¤

Literary scholar Corina Stan aptly describes how the themes of Camp of the Saints have congealed into a “a political myth about migration.” Over the day in which the story unfolds, scores of immigrant others, crowded by the thousands onto ships, determinedly set out to make landfall on France’s southern shores. This plot, writes Stan, “draws on a well-established archive: the tradition of invasion novels, replacement theories, and other texts by far-right intellectuals and violent revolutionaries.” Rather than represent the arrivals as French-speaking immigrants from North Africa, which might have hit too close to home given France’s violent repression in Algeria (1954–62) and the massacre of Algerian protesters in Paris in 1961, Raspail anonymizes them into a featureless Indian multitude. This lack of historical specificity and reliance on a generically “Brown,” bloodthirsty trespasser has made the novel’s invasion sequence readily transferable to a range of geopolitical and ideological scenarios.

The construction of this racial myth has harmonized not only with traditional ultranationalist politics but also with the more recently formed Reconquête!, an Islamophobic ethnonationalist party organized by politician and author Éric Zemmour, who declared on the presidential campaign trail in 2022 that “the French people are being replaced by another civilization. This wounds me, this destroys me. I come before the French people to say, let’s together stop this evolution.” Drawing on Achille Mbembe’s observation that literary dehumanization frequently deploys a “lack of figuration,” Stan underlines Camp of the Saints’ endless descriptions of Brown migrants, portrayed as deformed, defective, and diseased. The metaphors fractionate and recoalesce into a carnivalesque parade of shapeless bodies and body parts, nameless, throbbing, and overflowing, and described in animalistic terms as groveling packs of desperate creatures. Toward the end of the novel, when the multitudinous bodies disembark from the ships, flooding French soil, they are like “grotesque little beggars,” “basset hounds,” and “a herd of clumsy seals.”