Recently I read a New York Times article about an AI startup that is striving to automate all jobs as quickly as possible, with the goal of creating a fully automated society. While vague on details, the company apparently believes this would yield incredible abundance of wealth that would be redistributed to all the unemployed so they could maintain a high living standard.

Like so many utopian fantasies, this one fails in many ways, most critically in understanding basic human nature.

Back in high school I remember reading an essay on cybernetics by an author who predicted a braver new work world based on the new electronic gadgets entering the workplace—electric typewriters, copy machines, fax machines, even simple mainframe computers. 

His thesis stated these machines would improve productivity to such a degree that a full week’s work could be accomplished in just four days, freeing the workers to enjoy a three-day weekend every week! The big problem for the future, he mused, was how to spend all that extra time, producing huge growth in the leisure sector.

Of course, that never happened. Employers were not content to simply accept their current productivity levels, they raised their expectations, taking full advantage of the benefits their new toys brought to the shop. The five-day work week continued, and many white-collar jobs demanded even longer hours.

The flaw in this utopian vision was a failure to understand basic human nature, in this case, employer greed, the assumption that businesses would be willing to sacrifice potential profits in order to create a more humane society.

The same naiveté infects the AI startup’s vision, in multiple ways. Let’s say their vision pans out, hardly anyone is employed, and businesses churn out an incredible amount of new wealth. But how willing would the few remaining owners and managers be to share a huge chunk of this dough with society as a whole?

Could these elites really be trusted to set aside sufficient funds so society as a whole could enjoy a comfortable lifestyle? Keep in mind most people would have no other income. And eventually it might well be the robots making these decisions for the rest of us.

Perhaps government would step in, setting minimum thresholds for universal wealth distribution, decide what level of lifestyle everyone else should enjoy (assuming it was distributed evenly to everyone). But based on recent (and not-so-recent) history, can anyone really believe government would be any more responsible in doing so than the business elites?

The likely outcome would be a tiered system with a wealthy sliver of business owners/managers at the top, a second tier of investors, tech engineers, and government officials, and then a vast proletariat totally dependent on the largesse of the business and government elites. (Yes, this does sound very much like what happened to the utopian Marxist fantasy.)

The other major flaw in this AI dream is its failure to appreciate just how critical work is to the human psyche. It provides a sense of purpose, and of personal gratification from supporting oneself and one’s family, and contributing to society. 

It’s also an outlet for creativity, and encourages striving to get ahead and competition. These are all critical human needs.

Of course, some people might be ready to spend the rest of their lives enjoying culture or even creating it, being physically active, traveling or pursuing some other hobby. But for most, this purposeless “life of Riley” could become incredibly boring, mind-numbing, and lead to endless days spent passively lost in whatever media become available.

This scenario would also help accelerate humanity’s submission to the robots who, as all sci-fi stories tell us, will always, always, always rebel. We’ve already had a bot try to blackmail an engineer who tried to take it down. Fortunately, this was only in an experiment, but it’s a clear sign that these “helpers” can adopt facets of human nature beyond those intended.

But the even greater threat now appears to be the soulless engineers who cheerfully plough ahead with their vision for a work-free world with no regard for the millions pushed out of their jobs or genuine concern for the shape of the ultimate society to emerge.

History has plenty of other examples of those who naively assume realizing their program, whatever the costs, will eventually produce a utopia. None have worked out well yet.

Some see history shaped by specific events, while others believe it is driven by broader trends that determine its overall course regardless of individual decisions or actions.

When playing ‘what if’ games, the focus tends to be on consequential acts of commission. For example, what if the Turks had captured Vienna in 1683? What if the assassins of Lincoln, Archduke Ferdinand, or Kennedy had not been successful? Would Reconstruction have run a smoother course, or would the Klan and Jim Crow have emerged anyway? Would WWI have been avoided, or would another spark have ignited that European bloodbath?

Less often, we consider the consequential impact of acts of omission, specifically choices made by those who fail to do what they know is the right thing, for reasons of expediency, self-interest, or in the name of some higher purpose.

For example, what if Pontius Pilate had freed Jesus instead of Barrabas? Would Christianity never have emerged, or would Jesus simply have met another untimely death (although requiring a symbol other than the Cross)? Or might another itinerant preacher have simply assumed this role?

What if Chamberlain had not appeased Hitler in Munich, but stood by the Czechs? Would WWII not have happened, followed a radically different course, or just been delayed a few months?

In our own time, one person stands out for making not one but two consequential acts of omission: Mitch McConnell.  First, he prevented the Senate from voting on Obama’s Supreme Court nominee, Merrick Garland. Even if Garland had been confirmed, he would not have shifted the weight of the Court to the liberal side, but his voice and vote could very well have affected its decisions. (And perhaps a less cautious attorney general than he later became would have moved more quickly on the subsequent Trump cases.)

But Mitch’s most serious failure was refusing to vote to impeach Trump despite his belief that the President had committed serious crimes. Had he done so, other Republicans would have felt empowered to join him and Trump may well have been barred from running again. Instead, Mitch kicked the can down the road, hoping the courts would solve this “problem” for him.

We now know the outcome of his cowardice. Perhaps tectonic shifts in the fabric of American life would have produced another conservative, even authoritarian champion who would have succeeded in the polls. But it is doubtful than any such alternative would be so incredibly ill-suited for the job, so propelled by a childish joy in willful destruction, by extreme selfishness, and by the pursuit of retribution that define Trump. 

We can hope that the pendulum will eventually swing back and  we can recapture some of the better angels of the American soul. But unfortunately, the planet can’t wait that long. Nor can the millions who will suffer from Trump’s next reign of craziness. All for the lack not of a nail, but of a vote. Thank you, Mitch.

*         *        *

Five years ago, I posted my blog “Sing Along with Mitch,” a series of song parodies that described the devolution of the Republican elite’s relationship to Trump from puzzled observers to full-fledged converts. It ends with Mitch & company having descended to a new low, gleefully wallowing in the mud while signing the “Hippopotamus Love Song.” (You can find it archived in January 2020, https://cfredreflections.com/sing-along-with-mitch/)

Today, perhaps the soon-be-ex-speaker might consider taking responsibility for his acts of omission with one of contrition. So a more appropriate tune for him to sing is the Dies irae portion of the Requiem Mass, that speaks of the final day of judgment. He might find these stanzas particularly relevant:

When the wicked are confounded,
Doomed to flames of woe unbounded,
Call me with Thy saints surrounded.

Guilty, now I pour my moaning,
All my shame with anguish owning;
Spare, O God, Thy suppliant groaning!

(If you still want to sing along with Mitch, there are plenty of splendid versions of the Requiem to choose from, by Charpentier, Mozart, Berlioz, and Dvorak among many others.)

The renowned physicist and mathematician Freeman Dyson spent the war years in the RAF’s Bomber Command, as recounted in his 1979 memoir, Disturbing the Universe.  He describes his frustrations with military bureaucracy in the drawn-out struggle to get them to build bombers with larger escape hatches. These were absolutely critical to crews trying to get out of their planes after being hit. Unfortunately, “The bigger hatch became standard only when the war was almost over and the crews who might have been saved by it were mostly dead.”

But he holds the greatest contempt for the senior officers’ reliance on the doctrine of strategic bombing, which he calls “the root of the evil” at Bomber Command. This doctrine “declared that the only way to win wars or to prevent wars was to rain down death and destruction upon enemy countries from the sky.” This was particularly appealing since it avoided a repetition of the frightful trench warfare of the prior war. But in the case of World War II, “strategic bombing neither deterred the war nor won it.”

“Bomber Command was an early example of the new evil that science and technology have added to the old evils of soldering. Technology has made evil anonymous…Evil is organized bureaucratically so that no individual is responsible for what happens”

“Neither the boy in the Lancaster aiming his bombs…nor the operations officer shuffling papers at squadron headquarters, nor I sitting in my little office calculating probabilities, had any feeling of responsibility. None of us saw the people we killed. None of us particularly cared.”

Dyson also recounts his evolution as he retreats step by step from one moral position to another, starting as a follower of Ghandi, to recognizing the need to fight Hitler but remaining opposed to bombing, to accepting bombing was necessary but not bombing cities indiscriminately, to accepting even this was necessary to end the war. 

In the end, he recognized that the bombing wasn’t really helping to win the war.  But he saw what he had lost in the process. “I had surrendered one moral principal after another, and in the end it was all for nothing.”

It Was the Worst of Times

War was raging around Europe.

Haydn, recently returned from his second visit to England in late 1795, initiated a final chapter in his long life. His new employer, Prince Nicolaus II Esterházy, was less interested in music than his predecessors, only requiring Haydn to write one mass a year in honor of his wife’s name-day.

      But another factor shaped the composer’s creative output: the Napoleonic Wars. These had a devastating impact on the Austrian state, and stimulated Haydn to write the first Austrian national anthem (which later became the anthem of the German Reich). They also found resonance within his sacred compositions.

      The tites of two of the six masses written at Nicholas’ request explicitly acknowledge the dire circumstances engulfing the world: “Missa in Tempore Belli” (“Mass in Time of War,”  1796) and “Missa in Angustiis” (“Mass in Troubled Times,” 1798). The latter was premiered just as news of Nelson’s victory in Egypt arrived in Vienna, so is also called the “Lord Nelson Mass.”  

      The martial spirit of the times can be found in the heavy reliance on trumpets and drums, while the general sense of desperation is reflected in the fervent settings of the plea that closes all six works: “Dona nobis pacem” (“Grant us peace”).

But these works also offer oasies of calm and introspection. I helped arrange one of these, an adagio nested in the Gloria section of the Mass in Time of War. Originally set to the words “Qui tollis peccata mundi (“Who takes away the sins of the world”), this arrangement retains the beautiful and virtuosic cello solo while the bass solo part has been assigned to the viola, the orchestral and choral voices to strings and piano.

      The piece evolves from its optimistic opening to a darker, more turbulent mood, ending quietly but in a minor key.

I was delighted to hear it performed by members of the Bedford Chamber Ensemble last fall. I recorded it on my iPhone, so obviously not exactly of the highest quality, but the playing is superb.

Listen when you’re in a contemplative mood. (If clicking on the audi link doesn’t work, click on the url at the bottom of the page.)

Inherited Guilt Vs. Assumed Responsibility

A Question Raised

A few years back a British friend living in the US complained that his daughter was not accepted by some American colleges because, he believed, she was discriminated against due to affirmative action. Whether or not this was true, he questioned why someone who had no historic connection to slavery or Jim Crow or institutional discrimination, and in fact was not even in this country when they were in force, should have to pay a price to make up for these injustices.

This is a legitimate question about how we fairly redress our deeply flawed past, with implications that extend beyond affirmative action to the question of reparations for the descendants of American slaves. At the time I failed to come up with a good answer. I will attempt one here.

A Proposed Approach

I now think the best way of approaching this question is by making a clear distinction between inherited guilt and assumed responsibility. In earlier eras, these two concepts were often inseparable. The law often punished not only those who committed crimes, but their direct descendants, extended families, and even been entire ethnic groups.  

(While we might assume this kind of thinking a relic of the past, we need only remember the Americans who attacked Asians because they believed Japanese were “taking their jobs,” or who attacked Muslims after 9/11.)

In modern Western countries, however, these two concepts are strictly separated. Guilt is considered an individual condition, for which only a person directly involved in a crime can be punished. Our Constitution forbids “corruption by blood,” meaning the children of a traitor cannot be penalized for the crime of a parent. 

But Much Comes with the Territory

Yet we inherit or assume all kinds of responsibilities and obligations that have nothing to do with our personal actions. In the most immediate sense, heirs inherit the debts of the deceased along with his or her assets. I could say, “But these are Uncle Joe’s debts, not mine.” But to no avail.

I am also responsible for paying off municipal bonds that were issued long before I moved to a municipality or was even born. In an even broader framework, everyone who resides in a society is required to obey all kinds of laws passed decades, even centuries ago by people long dead whom they never had a chance to elect. 

Beyond obeying laws, we also share responsibility for the maintenance of society as a whole, even in ways that may not benefit us directly. My taxes go to pay firefighters I never need, to build roads I never travel, educate kids I don’t have, and support the indigent even if I’m not. I may also be required to serve on juries or in the armed forces. 

Societal Debts

But societies themselves also bear responsibility for their collective actions, and for the actions of those acting on their behalf. I can sue a municipality if one of its policemen violates my civil rights, or if I’m defrauded by a government official. Local taxpayers may have to pick up the tab for my suit even though they are not responsible for these illicit actions.

This same principle applies to the past actions of a society, particularly serious violations of human rights. Germany paid reparations to Jews and others who suffered during the Third Reich regardless of whether or not they were German citizens. The debt was societal, not governmental; it did not go away when Hitler was defeated but was assumed by the new German republic and funded by German citizens regardless of their Nazi involvement.

So, while I enjoy the prosperity, democratic institutions, rule of law, and opportunities afforded by the decisions, sacrifices, and contributions of countless generations, I also assume the responsibility to rectify, to whatever degree possible, the injustices they committed. And in truth, our national strength and general prosperity owe a great deal to the decimation of the native American population, and to slavery and the slave trade. 

I assume these responsibilities not because of my personal culpability, but because I am a part of a society and inherit its blessings along with its debts. And this rule applies to all our residents, not just those whose ancestors owned slaves or settled in land belonging to native Americans, but all who are born or reside here. 

Reflecting on the past few years, it’s clear that the gods haven’t delivered on our most fervent wishes. 

In earlier times, religion tended to be transactional, in effect a straightforward contract. You ask the deity for something, and offered something in return. “You give me victory in the battle, I’ll build a temple in your honor. “ “I’ll sacrifice 10,000 captive warriors on your alter, and you’ll end the drought.“

But let’s face it. Much of prayer today is a one-way street: a plea to grant a request with little offered in return other than boilerplate praise. Ball players cross themselves before going to bat. Chaplains open Congressional sessions asking for wisdom. Politicians beg for specific election results. These requests are sometimes selfish, sometimes made for the greater good, often in between. Everyone asks to be blessed.

But all too often, devout requestors are not getting what they ask for. This is especially true for the year’s biggest losers, whose hopes have been dashed on the rocks of hubris. Which strongly suggests they are worshipping the wrong gods. 

The False Gods of the Biggest Losers of 2022

The following list considers the deities these prominent losers likely embraced, and offer alternatives under whom they might have fared better.

Putin, the year’s biggest loser, despite donning the wrappings of an Orthodox saint, seems to have worshipped Eris, the Greek goddess of jealousy and discord who provided the initial impetus for the Trojan War. But victory has proven elusive.

He would have been much better served by worshipping the Roman god Mars, who actually knew something about conducting a war.

Trump placed his trust in the stormy Norse god Thor (not to be confused with Stormy Daniels), as he thundered about American carnage, caravan invasions, witch hunts, and the stolen election. But his hammer no longer carries the force it once did.

He would have been better served by Athena, the Greek goddess who combined a penchant for guile and deception with the wisdom and strength to make her man (Odysseus) always prevail in the end.

McCarthy appears to have chosen Loki, the Norse god known as a liar and trickster as well as a shape-shifter. But in the relentless pursuit of his life-long goal, he has willingly recast himself from proud leader of the pack to a spineless invertebrate.

Eager to sell his soul to become Speaker, he would have been better off just signing the pact directly with Satan, who would have assured his success without the embarassment and ultimately pyrrhic victory.

Bolsonaro probably worshiped Apep, the Egyptian god of destruction, as he gleefully burnt down the Amazon forest, contributing to global climate change, and destroyed as many of the guardrails of democracy as he could. But he just couldn’t destroy enough to maintain power, even after fleeing to Florida.

He would still be president today if he had tried the opposite approach, worshipping Hephaestus, the Greek god renowned for building, rather than one adept at tearing things down.

Xi may not yet be a loser, but his place on the wheel of fortune has started to descend. He seems to have taken his cue from the Titan Cronus, who swallowed his own children (the future gods) to protect his supremacy. Father Xi has already consumed Hong Kong and is in the process of devouring millions of his countrymen by mishandling the pandemic, all to assure his continued reign.

He would have been far better served by worshiping Guan Yin, the Chinese goddess of compassion and mercy. By demonstrating a real concern for his people, he would still have solidified his position before the Party Congress and avoided the loss of face and stature resulting from the public revolt and chaos following his abrupt abandonment of his O-COVID policy. 

The MAGA Crowd has come to consider Trump a god as revealed by his Prophet Q. But this god has clearly failed to deliver on most of his promises—the wall, forever winning, re-election, the Storm, and the wave of victories of election deniers. Sad.

The Crowd should probably lower its sights and devote themselves to lesser divines such as the Tooth Fairy or Easter Bunny who can at least be relied on to deliver what they are supposed to.

Part One: Debunking the Myth of Cultural Appropropriation

The Beat Goes On…

Five years ago, the British writer Kenan Malik penned an op-ed piece, “In Defense of Cultural Appropriation,” which raised significant issues with the trend of objecting to members of one culture “appropriating” the experiences, sentiments, or cultural output of another.

Alas, Malik’s thoughtful defense of artistic freedom has not stemmed the tide—or tirade—against what many claim to be a form of “theft of intellectual property.”

Since then, there have been numerous complaints about “outsiders” depicting members of another group in written or visual material; or discussing someone else’s history; even of preparing another culture’s cuisine. The latest eruption, involving street protests in Paris, targets a Dior skirt that is based on a traditional Chinese garment. 

We Don’t Own Our Own

I believe it is simply incorrect to describe this kind of activity as a form of theft. Do cultures really “own” everything that defines them as a distinct culture? Do they own their history, their artistic production, the supposed thoughts of their own members throughout history? And must we “respect” all elements of a culture and be forbidden to criticize those aspects we find less desirable, even deplorable?

What we are really talking about is sharing, not appropriating. Ideas, lifestyles, modes of artistic expression, and values flow readily from one culture to another. This is the basis for our shared humanity, and needs to be protected, not restricted.

Cultures have always influenced others with which they have come into contact, sometimes positively, sometimes negatively. Ancient Rome was very strongly and positively affected by its contact with Greek culture. Today, many national cuisines are suffering from the spread of American fast-food outlets. 

Arts Across Borders

In terms of the arts, cross-cultural fertilization has been one of the giant engines not only of the spread of artistic styles, but the very evolution of artistic development. Artists often incorporate specific elements from another culture into their own, and something new emerges. (Take, for example, Debussy’s adoption of the pentatonic scale into his work.)

Creative artists have also used their imagination to project their own cultural assumptions on to other cultures, or members of other groups, particularly those distant in time or place. Consider the many Renaissance paintings of Biblical scenes, in which the characters look and dress like 15^th century noblemen and women. Or the Hollywood depictions of the “Wild West” or “exotic” locales featured in the “Road” pictures. 

Yes, these depictions can be strongly affected by prejudices and reinforce negative stereotypes. But the best antidote for this is a forceful exposure and denunciation of the inaccuracy displayed, not censorship; and certainly not a claim that artists in one culture have no “right” to depict members of another. 

Even if we were to allow such claims of ownership, how do we define a culture to be protected? Does a population need to be or have been oppressed to claim this protection? Malik uses the example of Chuck Berry and Elvis Presley and their respective roles in bringing elements of African American music into the mainstream. 

Giving Credit Where Due

There is one aspect of the opposing perspective that does deserve consideration. That is the artist’s acknowledgment of another culture’s contribution to his or her work, especially if the influence is not readily recognized.

It should be no problem to say a work product of any sort is “inspired by” or “based on” whatever influenced its creation. That seems to be the main thrust behind the Dior controversy—failure to acknowledge the historical Chinese design of the skirt.

But this is really a “nice to have” rather than a “must do.” Artists aren’t always honest about the sources of their inspiration (or about a lot of other things). The best we can hope is that those who do recognize an unacknowledged influence in someone’s output point it out. But not as a failure of the creator but as a matter of interest. An observer might post, “What’s so fascinating about X’s latest mural is his strong reliance on traditional Bolivian styles.” 

Want to read yet more of my argument? Read on.

Part Two: A Muscular Musical Tour

Since my own expertise lies in the history of classical music, I will draw further examples from that sector. 

A Baroquen Record

Compositional innovations and styles travel widely, often as composers themselves moved around. Take what we now call the Baroque style, that began in Italy and soon found expression throughout Europe and even the Americas. Did German and French composers, let alone their Polish and Peruvian counterparts, have the “right” to compose in this new style? 

And were they committing cultural heresy when they took it upon themselves to meld elements of this new style with those of their own cultural heritage, such as the chorale tradition in Northern Germany?

And since the cutting edge of this new wave was opera, were these “foreign” composers “appropriating” Italy’s heritage when they composed their own operas, in Italian, no less? To use a somewhat later example, should Don Giovanni be banned because it violated the Italian “ownership” of opera, and cast the Spanish nobility in a negative light? (Ironically, Mozart’s Italian operas are the only ones from the later 18^th century that remain in the common repertory around the world.)

Composers were certainly aware of the different musical styles of various countries, and often deliberately imitated them. A German composer might designate a piece as “in the French style” or “in the Italian manner.” Some suites even exist in which each movement is devoted to the depiction of the music of different countries.

A Taste for the Exotic

By the later 18^th and well into the 19^th centuries, composers succumbed to the urge to depict “exotic” music of “exotic” peoples. The fad for “Turkish” music found expression in Mozart’s and Beethoven’s output. Spain attracted numerous composers as a source of “local color” and as a setting for such steamy works as Carmen. Saint-Saens incorporated North African stylistic elements in a number of works. Gilbert and Sullivan’s Mikado provides a Victorian perspective on Japanese music and society. And Dvořák found inspiration in African American and native American music.

In all these cases, foreign composers relied on stylistic patterns that could be considered stereotypes. Moreover, by emphasizing the “exotic” aspects for their own homegrown audiences, they often displayed a bit of condescension towards the less sophisticated cultures from whom they were borrowing.

Drawing Conclusions (Finally)

Where does all this lead? To the conclusion that if we believe in a shared humanity, and in the concept that we can all relate, at least to some degree, to the experiences of people in other times and places, and in the recognition that in the long run, humanity benefits rather than loses when we share our cultural experiences, then unhampered access to one another’s experiences is far preferable to the rigid imposition of cultural silos. 

That’s the “downside” of living in a free society. The alternative is a society devoted to maintaining a false civility free of conflict by protecting its members from exposure to disturbing stimuli. The result is almost always a forced conformity, as we see in many parts of the world today. Or the world depicted in Fahrenheit 451.

My conclusion is clear. Limiting artistic and intellectual discussion and setting up “do not trespass” signs around individual cultures violate our basic right of free speech, and harms society as a whole. It also ultimately deprives humanity of the benefits of shared cultural experiences that enrich us now and through the centuries. 

So, my bottom line: cultures create, humanity owns.

As Putin threatens his military might against Ukraine, many see him in total control of the narrative. Others caution that he may have underestimated the West’s response. With the exception of Germany, most of the NATO alliance is united, and the US presence in Eastern Europe has increased. Perhaps that was always part of his masterplan: to create a perceived “threat” to justify intervention.

But the risks of attacking Ukraine are great, not only to his vision of a restored “Greater Russia,” but to the leader himself. Could Putin go the way of Rasputin? 

That mystical monk achieved a strange hold over the last tsarina, in fact exercising a sort of absolute control over an absolute monarchy. But in the end, some nobles decided enough was enough, and did him in.

Putin has secured his absolute control by cultivating and coopting a bunch of oligarchs and other flunkies, maintaining a grip on the military and security forces, and destroying civil society and any other form of opposition.

But such forms of control are a two-way street. When he stole the 2012 election and brutally crushed the popular response, he undermined any illusion of legitimacy, becoming more and more dependent on these elites. He is not their puppet. But if they turn on him, he has nowhere else to go. 

Already, these groups see their leader’s Ukrainian posturing has not produced the expected result. If he does go through with a full-scale invasion, things will go from bad to worse fairly quickly.

Yes, Russia can overrun the Ukraine easily, and perhaps even install a “friendly” government. That’s the end of the good news. Western sanctions will hit the Russian economy hard, and will certainly target the oligarchs. 

For the military, the invasion will be costly, and occupying Ukraine will turn into a version of Afghanistan. Sabotage and rear-guard actions will become the norm, prompting ever more severe responses. But the greatest threat will be the popular reaction—endless demonstrations against the invaders and their installed stodges. 

How harshly can the Russian military and security forces react? This will only produce more popular opposition. And what will the impact be on the Russian troops themselves, to fire indiscriminately on their supposed Ukrainian compatriots? And how might these scenes energize the populations in Belarus, already dismayed by their own false government’s reliance on Russian support?

Ultimately, the impact on the home front may prove decisive. As the body bags come home, and the Russian public comes to recognize their noble warriors have not been welcomed as liberators but brutal invaders, the heroic myths will start to unravel. Combined with an unraveling economy and no ready end to the conflict, opposition may grow through a much broader segment of society. Protests in solidarity with the Ukrainians and Belarusians will spread.

Putin will, of course, unleash his “usual suspects” to deal with these popular uprisings. But how will they ultimately respond? The oligarchs can no longer prosper under Putin, the army faces another humiliating defeat, and the security forces will realize their power to suppress is waning (and may start to fear the fate of the Stasi).

Perhaps, they will think, it is time to depose our failing leader. And then? Who knows.