How does Google work? Glenn invited two top executives to talk about how one of the biggest companies of the 21st century stays innovative

Glenn has a love/hate relationship with technology. He loves the vision of the future and the freedom it gives people. However, the exponential growth of technology also creates the opportunity for giant companies to get so giant that they can crush the life out of you. Glenn isn't sure where he stands on some of these big technology companies. Google, being number one in that category because they do some pretty scary things, but they also do some amazing things. He invited two key Googlers, Executive Chairman Eric Schmidt and advisor and former SVP Jonathan Rosenberg, onto the show to discuss the Google culture and their new book How Google Works.

GLENN: Hi, guys. How are you?

SPEAKER: Hi, Glenn. How are you? It's Eric.

GLENN: Very good.

ROSENBERG: It's Jonathan. Great to be here.

GLENN: Thanks for being here. I want to start with: Really good book. But I want to get into a couple of things and dive right in to Steve Jobs. Steve Jobs is not a guy that liked you or Google at all. And yet, you say some really good things about him in this book. You want to take me through what the philosophy is? I mean, was it not a two-way street with you guys?

ERIC: Well, this is Eric. If you think about the Steve, Steve was perhaps the greatest inventor of my generation. He took a company that he founded that was a near-death situation and invented pretty much the way people use computers today through their phones. So although he was certainly difficult at times, his brilliance meant that many, many smart people flocked with him. In our industry -- and we talk about this in the book -- people help each other out. And so I would help Steve out. He would help me out. And, in fact, I was on the Apple board for three and a half years.

ROSENBERG: Glenn, we also point out in the book that there's a new archetype, a new character that we're defining, that's sort of the hero of our book, which is the smart-creative. And the characteristics of those people are that they combine technical ability, they're business savvy, they're extremely curious and passionate. And we really felt that Steve was a great example of that persona.

GLENN: Well, you say here, the culture stems from the founders, best reflected in the trusted team. You say: You have to ask the team -- and I think this is really, really good. You ask the team several questions.

What do we care about? What do we believe? Who do we want to be? How do we want our company to act and make decisions?

Can you tell me about that list, and what you're driving at here?

ROSENBERG: Sure. This is Jonathan. I think one of the things that we've seen, particularly in the Valley, is that there's a very strong selection bias when you define your culture early. So one of the things that you find is that many founders get that right initially, others kind of just focus on the business and then delegate those values to an HR organization or PR people later in the process.

What we found is that you want to define the culture in the beginning, create a selection bias, so the kind of people that you're looking for and believe your culture come to the company and then you want to allow them to answer the questions in more detail so that that first group of employees define the culture for you.

GLENN: So define the Google culture.

ERIC: Well, it's certainly smart and quick, and it's very reliant on the people that we're describing as smart-creatives, people who sort of have a vision. And we tolerate them. We sort of say: Have a good time. Come up with your ideas. We'll see how far you get.

One of the characteristics of that is, that model is scalable. You can end up with 100 of them and then 1,000 of them. And I've become convinced that these people are the future of America because these are the future inventors. These are the future people who will create jobs and new companies, and they'll spin out of Google to do a startup and so forth.

GLENN: Are we all kind of inventors now? I mean, don't we have the ability to do things that we've never been able to do before?

ERIC: The barrier of entry to start a startup is the lowest it's been.

Let me say, Glenn, that you did this. You set out a strong culture. You set out a five-year plan. And off you went, and look at the success you've achieved. So it works. Right? It takes guts, and it's typically done by young people in small teams that work very, very hard. Very specific type.

GLENN: This is something that I've been wrestling with. I don't trust -- I don't trust a company over 100 people because I just don't think -- there's too many people you have to answer to.

ERIC: This is like, don't trust anybody over 30. You already have more than 100 people.

GLENN: I know. I've got a company of 310 people, and I just -- we can't ever get anything done.

STU: I don't think that's accurate.

GLENN: Okay. Hang on just a second.

Do you guys ever feel that way that you get to a point -- I mean, you talk about the two-pizza theory, which I think is absolutely rock solid, and it's kind of where I'm at where, just break everything up into teams because one person cannot handle such a bureaucracy, and the bigger it gets, the more people that have sign off on crap and you never get anything done. You spend all your time in meetings.

So explain the two-pizza theory. And then, how do you build off of that?

ROSENBERG: Sure, Glenn. This is Jonathan. The two-pizza theory we actually got from Jeff Bezos, which says that you don't want to allow any teams to grow beyond the point where you can't feed them with two pizzas. And there's always been, in sort of the history of software, this notion of the mythical man month, which basically says, as you start adding people to a programming project, it becomes much, much less efficient.

So our focus has always been to keep people in very small teams, keep those teams in small groups working together, and then as we scale, we're constantly trying to break the projects down into smaller teams. The other things that we're seeing is, it's getting much easier to standardize products so that one product can build on another, and that allows us to keep teams much smaller.

GLENN: Explain the -- because you guys are -- you're into everything. Absolutely everything. Oh, yes. You're controlling my thermostat. You're driving cars now on the highway. I mean, you're into absolutely everything. How do you keep the teams working in the same general direction? How does that work?

And beyond that, explain the diagram. You have a Venn diagram, and you say how you -- you know, how you choose ideas. Big ideas. So explain, A, how do you keep the teams all generally going in the same direction? How do you know what's a Google thing and what's not? How do you do that?

ERIC: We make a list, and then we sort of go through it. We used to have a list called the Top 100, which had 300 things on it. We could never get it down to 100. And we would sit there and say, well, which of these are more important. And through that process of discussion, we would end up prioritizing.

And the key thing about the management meetings is they can't be consensus. They have to be looking for the best idea. And they're different. In a consensus, everybody kind of fights to the median.

Whereas, in our case, we say, what's the better idea? Does anybody have a better idea than what we're currently doing? Then we have this big argument internally. Eventually someone says, well, why don't we try this? And the job of the leader, in this case you, is to say, okay, let's go after that. And come back in a day and tell me what to do.

ROSENBERG: Yeah, Glenn. You asked about the Venn diagram, and that really relates to starting from the premise of how large is the opportunity. Many companies kind of focus on what they see as greenfield markets, which are usually green for a reason. There's not a great opportunity there.

So, for us, the number one thing is: What is the scope and opportunity of this market?

And the next thing that we then look at is: Can we use technology in some unique way to fundamentally improve the products in that space?

And where those two things match, we then conclude that there's a big opportunity.

GLENN: So do you guys start with, I want to change the world, or do you start with, we need to make money?

ERIC: Well, a little bit of both. One of the secrets of Google is that the search business has been highly profitable in the sense of the ads work really, really well. And that money gives us, if you will, the rope to try things. Maybe other companies that don't have such high gross margins are unable to or they can't get the financing.

But the core principle is actually not about money at all. It's about users. And one of the sort of key slogans of the company is: Put the user first.

So if the nest thermostat makes the user happier, which indeed it does, that's an improvement. If the car, the self-driving improves people's lives and, in particular, allows them to stay alive, that's much better. We don't worry about what the prices of these things are. We'll figure that out later.

GLENN: I think there's -- and I could be wrong. I think there's a change in Silicon Valley. I think there are a lot of people in Silicon Valley that maybe thought that they were wildly liberal and had found themselves to be more Libertarian because a lot of these guys are, you know, 25 years old, and they started something in their basement. And now they're like, holy cow, look at what I'm building. And they know they don't need the government, and now the government is starting to knock on their door and say, hey, hey, you can't do that.

And I think people that are 20-something years old are not used to somebody coming in and saying, you can't do that. And now they're finding themselves saying, you know, government is a necessary evil, but we don't need to have all of this government. You guys, on the other hand, are deeply in bed with the government. You got what is it, 25 -- the self-driving cars. There were 29 permits issued for the state of California; 25 of them went to you guys.

ERIC: We're not in bed with them. We're regulated by them.

What you're saying is something that's been true for many, many decades. Right? The tech industry is famously liberal on social issues and famously conservative on financial issues. The saying of the industry is: Government out of the boardroom, government out of the bedroom.

And I think that's roughly what you're feeling. This libertarian streak has been there for a very long time, for the reasons that you say. Exactly right.

And the problem, of course, is that we're inventing things that really do affect traditional agreements with governments. So Google is in the information business. Well, there's nothing more important than information. So if you're a political leader or a government or especially a restrictive government, a dictatorship, you want to control information. You don't want freedom of expression for your citizens.

GLENN: How do you guys view the world -- with the world changing as much as it is and driving cars, how long before the driving car is -- we're all being driven to work?

ERIC: It's completely dependent upon the regulatory process. The technology works. It was invented literally in 2004 and 2005. And the reason this is serious is there are roughly 31,000 people who die on American highways every year. So those are your family. Those are your friends. Those are our citizens. So the quicker we can move this stuff out, the better. We don't know how long it's going to take, but we're sure it will happen over a long enough period of time. It's valuable.

GLENN: See, isn't that an amazing thing? That talks about the problem I think with -- with the way our system is. Our government is not run with a two-pizza rule. And that's kind of the problem.

You're saying the system works. It can all go in. But the regulatory process -- and you know that's going to be a bloodbath of just payoffs and all kinds of problems -- isn't that -- I mean, wouldn't we be much better off to be able to, now that we have the technology to do some of these things -- we're not living in the 1950s anymore. The entire world has changed. How do we break down these walls to start moving a little faster without government interference?

ERIC: A lot of the cases, the regulations have been written by existing incumbents or the industry. And the best kind of regulation says, what we want to do is we want to get more people to their destinations safer, faster, and in a more comfortable way. If the law just said that, then it would be a lot easier. But it ends up being very complicated. And Google has literally thousands of people worldwide who works on these sorts of issues. And I think this is normal for American corporations. I don't Google is unusual.

GLENN: Explain the 70/20/10 approach that's in the book.

ROSENBERG: Yeah, Glenn, this is Jonathan. So 70/20/10 was basically an algorithm that Sergey Brin derived, and it stemmed from looking at the set of the companies top 100 priorities when we were much smaller, and Sergey Brin basically observed that the company felt about right at that scale, and 70 percent of the resources were going into the core efforts, 20 percent into emerging, and then 10 percent into kind of the wacky crazy ideas.

So we decided we would institutionalize that and try to keep that framework as sort of the broad -- as we grew over time. One of the nice things about 10 percent is that it's enough that you can actually kick things off and get them started, but it's not so much resource devoted around one thing that the company gets so invested in it that we can't kill it if it's failing.

STU: We're actually doing a version of that, but it's 1/5/94 is our current...

GLENN: I've been trying to talk to some of the guys in my own company and said, I really like your -- what is it -- your 70/30, work for the company 70 percent of your time -- or is it 80/20. Where that extra 20 or 30 percent of your week is kind of on the things you want to pursue. Can you explain that? Are you still doing that in the first place? Do you know what I'm talking about?

SPEAKER: Yes. We've always in the company a rule that employees could spend 20 percent of their time on whatever they wanted to do rather than what their manager wanted to do. So -- is our 20 percent project. We have other duties as well. And it exists because it's a way of being creative without putting too much at risk. Because if you just have one person spending one-fifth of their time and wasting their time, you don't have a huge risk, and you might have some great idea. And so what happens is, many of the great ideas that we hear started off at 20 percent times.

GLENN: I think what you guys are creating is the future, and I hope that as -- Eric, as I've said to you before, I hope the don't be evil, actually remains in place. Because of the amazing power of Google. But I really appreciate it. The name of the book is How Google Works. Hope to have you guys on again. Thank you so much.

Trump v. Slaughter: The Deep State on trial

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The administrative state has long operated as an unelected super-government. Trump v. Slaughter may be the moment voters reclaim authority over their own institutions.

Washington is watching and worrying about a U.S. Supreme Court case that could very well define the future of American self-government. And I don’t say that lightly. At the center of Trump v. Slaughter is a deceptively simple question: Can the president — the one official chosen by the entire nation — remove the administrators and “experts” who wield enormous, unaccountable power inside the executive branch?

This isn’t a technical fight. It’s not a paperwork dispute. It’s a turning point. Because if the answer is no, then the American people no longer control their own government. Elections become ceremonial. The bureaucracy becomes permanent. And the Constitution becomes a suggestion rather than the law of the land.

A government run by experts instead of elected leaders is not a republic. It’s a bureaucracy with a voting booth bolted onto the front to make us feel better.

That simply cannot be. Justice Neil Gorsuch summed it up perfectly during oral arguments on Monday: “There is no such thing in our constitutional order as a fourth branch of government that’s quasi-judicial and quasi-legislative.”

Yet for more than a century, the administrative state has grown like kudzu — quietly, relentlessly, and always in one direction. Today we have a fourth branch of government: unelected, unaccountable, insulated from consequence. Congress hands off lawmaking to agencies. Presidents arrive with agendas, but the bureaucrats remain, and they decide what actually gets done.

If the Supreme Court decides that presidents cannot fire the very people who execute federal power, they are not just rearranging an org chart. The justices are rewriting the structure of the republic. They are confirming what we’ve long feared: Here, the experts rule, not the voters.

A government run by experts instead of elected leaders is not a republic. It’s a bureaucracy with a voting booth bolted onto the front to make us feel better.

The founders warned us

The men who wrote the Constitution saw this temptation coming. Alexander Hamilton and James Madison in the Federalist Papers hammered home the same principle again and again: Power must remain traceable to the people. They understood human nature far too well. They knew that once administrators are protected from accountability, they will accumulate power endlessly. It is what humans do.

That’s why the Constitution vests the executive power in a single president — someone the entire nation elects and can unelect. They did not want a managerial council. They did not want a permanent priesthood of experts. They wanted responsibility and authority to live in one place so the people could reward or replace it.

So this case will answer a simple question: Do the people still govern this country, or does a protected class of bureaucrats now run the show?

Not-so-expert advice

Look around. The experts insisted they could manage the economy — and produced historic debt and inflation.

The experts insisted they could run public health — and left millions of Americans sick, injured, and dead while avoiding accountability.

The experts insisted they could steer foreign policy — and delivered endless conflict with no measurable benefit to our citizens.

And through it all, they stayed. Untouched, unelected, and utterly unapologetic.

If a president cannot fire these people, then you — the voter — have no ability to change the direction of your own government. You can vote for reform, but you will get the same insiders making the same decisions in the same agencies.

That is not self-government. That is inertia disguised as expertise.

A republic no more?

A monarchy can survive a permanent bureaucracy. A dictatorship can survive a permanent bureaucracy. A constitutional republic cannot. Not for long anyway.

We are supposed to live in a system where the people set the course, Congress writes the laws, and the president carries them out. When agencies write their own rules, judges shield them from oversight, and presidents are forbidden from removing them, we no longer live in that system. We live in something else — something the founders warned us about.

And the people become spectators of their own government.

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The path forward

Restoring the separation of powers does not mean rejecting expertise. It means returning expertise to its proper role: advisory, not sovereign.

No expert should hold power that voters cannot revoke. No agency should drift beyond the reach of the executive. No bureaucracy should be allowed to grow branches the Constitution never gave it.

The Supreme Court now faces a choice that will shape American life for a generation. It can reinforce the Constitution, or it can allow the administrative state to wander even farther from democratic control.

This case isn’t about President Trump. It isn’t about Rebecca Slaughter, the former Federal Trade Commission official suing to get her job back. It’s about whether elections still mean anything — whether the American people still hold the reins of their own government.

That is what is at stake: not procedure, not technicalities, but the survival of a system built on the revolutionary idea that the citizens — not the experts — are the ones who rule.

This article originally appeared on TheBlaze.com.

1 in 20 Canadians die by MAID—Is this 'compassion'?

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Medical assistance in dying isn’t health care. It’s the moment a Western democracy decided some lives aren’t worth saving, and it’s a warning sign we can’t ignore.

Canada loves to lecture America about compassion. Every time a shooting makes the headlines, Canadian commentators cannot wait to discuss how the United States has a “culture of death” because we refuse to regulate guns the way enlightened nations supposedly do.

But north of our border, a very different crisis is unfolding — one that is harder to moralize because it exposes a deeper cultural failure.

A society that no longer recognizes the value of life will not long defend freedom, dignity, or moral order.

The Canadian government is not only permitting death, but it’s also administering, expanding, and redefining it as “medical care.” Medical assistance in dying is no longer a rare, tragic exception. It has become one of the country’s leading causes of death, offered to people whose problems are treatable, whose conditions are survivable, and whose value should never have been in question.

In Canada, MAID is now responsible for nearly 5% of all deaths — 1 out of every 20 citizens. And this is happening in a country that claims the moral high ground over American gun violence. Canada now records more deaths per capita from doctors administering lethal drugs than America records from firearms. Their number is 37.9 deaths per 100,000 people. Ours is 13.7. Yet we are the country supposedly drowning in a “culture of death.”

No lecture from abroad can paper over this fact: Canada has built a system where eliminating suffering increasingly means eliminating the sufferer.

Choosing death over care

One example of what Canada now calls “compassion” is the case of Jolene Bond, a woman suffering from a painful but treatable thyroid condition that causes dangerously high calcium levels, bone deterioration, soft-tissue damage, nausea, and unrelenting pain. Her condition is severe, but it is not terminal. Surgery could help her. And in a functioning medical system, she would have it.

But Jolene lives under socialized medicine. The specialists she needs are either unavailable, overrun with patients, or blocked behind bureaucratic requirements she cannot meet. She cannot get a referral. She cannot get an appointment. She cannot reach the doctor in another province who is qualified to perform the operation. Every pathway to treatment is jammed by paperwork, shortages, and waitlists that stretch into the horizon and beyond.

Yet the Canadian government had something else ready for her — something immediate.

They offered her MAID.

Not help, not relief, not a doctor willing to drive across a provincial line and simply examine her. Instead, Canada offered Jolene a state-approved death. A lethal injection is easier to obtain than a medical referral. Killing her would be easier than treating her. And the system calls that compassion.

Bureaucracy replaces medicine

Jolene’s story is not an outlier. It is the logical outcome of a system that cannot keep its promises. When the machinery of socialized medicine breaks down, the state simply replaces care with a final, irreversible “solution.” A bureaucratic checkbox becomes the last decision of a person’s life.

Canada insists its process is rigorous, humane, and safeguarded. Yet the bureaucracy now reviewing Jolene’s case is not asking how she can receive treatment; it is asking whether she has enough signatures to qualify for a lethal injection. And the debate among Canadian officials is not how to preserve life, but whether she has met the paperwork threshold to end it.

This is the dark inversion that always emerges when the state claims the power to decide when life is no longer worth living. Bureaucracy replaces conscience. Eligibility criteria replace compassion. A panel of physicians replaces the family gathered at a bedside. And eventually, the “right” to die becomes an expectation — especially for those who are poor, elderly, or alone.

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The logical end of a broken system

We ignore this lesson at our own peril. Canada’s health care system is collapsing under demographic pressure, uncontrolled migration, and the unavoidable math of government-run medicine.

When the system breaks, someone must bear the cost. MAID has become the release valve.

The ideology behind this system is already drifting south. In American medical journals and bioethics conferences, you will hear this same rhetoric. The argument is always dressed in compassion. But underneath, it reduces the value of human life to a calculation: Are you useful? Are you affordable? Are you too much of a burden?

The West was built on a conviction that every human life has inherent value. That truth gave us hospitals before it gave us universities. It gave us charity before it gave us science. It is written into the Declaration of Independence.

Canada’s MAID program reveals what happens when a country lets that foundation erode. Life becomes negotiable, and suffering becomes a justification for elimination.

A society that no longer recognizes the value of life will not long defend freedom, dignity, or moral order. If compassion becomes indistinguishable from convenience, and if medicine becomes indistinguishable from euthanasia, the West will have abandoned the very principles that built it. That is the lesson from our northern neighbor — a warning, not a blueprint.

This article originally appeared on TheBlaze.com.

A Sharia enclave is quietly taking root in America. It's time to wake up.

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Sharia-based projects like the Meadow in Texas show how political Islam grows quietly, counting on Americans to stay silent while an incompatible legal system takes root.

Apolitical system completely incompatible with the Constitution is gaining ground in the United States, and we are pretending it is not happening.

Sharia — the legal and political framework of Islam — is being woven into developments, institutions, and neighborhoods, including a massive project in Texas. And the consequences will be enormous if we continue to look the other way.

This is the contradiction at the heart of political Islam: It claims universal authority while insisting its harshest rules will never be enforced here. That promise does not stand up to scrutiny. It never has.

Before we can have an honest debate, we’d better understand what Sharia represents. Sharia is not simply a set of religious rules about prayer or diet. It is a comprehensive legal and political structure that governs marriage, finance, criminal penalties, and civic life. It is a parallel system that claims supremacy wherever it takes hold.

This is where the distinction matters. Many Muslims in America want nothing to do with Sharia governance. They came here precisely because they lived under it. But political Islam — the movement that seeks to implement Sharia as law — is not the same as personal religious belief.

It is a political ideology with global ambitions, much like communism. Secretary of State Marco Rubio recently warned that Islamist movements do not seek peaceful coexistence with the West. They seek dominance. History backs him up.

How Sharia arrives

Political Islam does not begin with dramatic declarations. It starts quietly, through enclaves that operate by their own rules. That is why the development once called EPIC City — now rebranded as the Meadow — is so concerning. Early plans framed it as a Muslim-only community built around a mega-mosque and governed by Sharia-compliant financing. After state investigations were conducted, the branding changed, but the underlying intent remained the same.

Developers have openly described practices designed to keep non-Muslims out, using fees and ownership structures to create de facto religious exclusivity. This is not assimilation. It is the construction of a parallel society within a constitutional republic.

The warning from those who have lived under it

Years ago, local imams in Texas told me, without hesitation, that certain Sharia punishments “just work.” They spoke about cutting off hands for theft, stoning adulterers, and maintaining separate standards of testimony for men and women. They insisted it was logical and effective while insisting they would never attempt to implement it in Texas.

But when pressed, they could not explain why a system they consider divinely mandated would suddenly stop applying once someone crossed a border.

This is the contradiction at the heart of political Islam: It claims universal authority while insisting its harshest rules will never be enforced here. That promise does not stand up to scrutiny. It never has.

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America is vulnerable

Europe is already showing us where this road leads. No-go zones, parallel courts, political intimidation, and clerics preaching supremacy have taken root across major cities.

America’s strength has always come from its melting pot, but assimilation requires boundaries. It requires insisting that the Constitution, not religious law, is the supreme authority on this soil.

Yet we are becoming complacent, even fearful, about saying so. We mistake silence for tolerance. We mistake avoidance for fairness. Meanwhile, political Islam views this hesitation as weakness.

Religious freedom is one of America’s greatest gifts. Muslims may worship freely here, as they should. But political Islam must not be permitted to plant a flag on American soil. The Constitution cannot coexist with a system that denies equal rights, restricts speech, subordinates women, and places clerical authority above civil law.

Wake up before it is too late

Projects like the Meadow are not isolated. They are test runs, footholds, proofs of concept. Political Islam operates with patience. It advances through demographic growth, legal ambiguity, and cultural hesitation — and it counts on Americans being too polite, too distracted, or too afraid to confront it.

We cannot afford that luxury. If we fail to defend the principles that make this country free, we will one day find ourselves asking how a parallel system gained power right in front of us. The answer will be simple: We looked away.

The time to draw boundaries and to speak honestly is now. The time to defend the Constitution as the supreme law of the land is now. Act while there is still time.

This article originally appeared on TheBlaze.com.

The Crisis of Meaning: Searching for truth and purpose

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Anxiety, anger, and chronic dissatisfaction signal a country searching for meaning. Without truth and purpose, politics becomes a dangerous substitute for identity.

We have built a world overflowing with noise, convenience, and endless choice, yet something essential has slipped out of reach. You can sense it in the restless mood of the country, the anxiety among young people who cannot explain why they feel empty, in the angry confusion that dominates our politics.

We have more wealth than any nation in history, but the heart of the culture feels strangely malnourished. Before we can debate debt or elections, we must confront the reality that we created a world of things, but not a world of purpose.

You cannot survive a crisis you refuse to name, and you cannot rebuild a world whose foundations you no longer understand.

What we are living through is not just economic or political dysfunction. It is the vacuum that appears when a civilization mistakes abundance for meaning.

Modern life is stuffed with everything except what the human soul actually needs. We built systems to make life faster, easier, and more efficient — and then wondered why those systems cannot teach our children who they are, why they matter, or what is worth living for.

We tell the next generation to chase success, influence, and wealth, turning childhood into branding. We ask kids what they want to do, not who they want to be. We build a world wired for dopamine rather than dignity, and then we wonder why so many people feel unmoored.

When everything is curated, optimized, and delivered at the push of a button, the question “what is my life for?” gets lost in the static.

The crisis beneath the headlines

It is not just the young who feel this crisis. Every part of our society is straining under the weight of meaninglessness.

Look at the debt cycle — the mathematical fate no civilization has ever escaped once it crosses a threshold that we seem to have already blown by. While ordinary families feel the pressure, our leaders respond with distraction, with denial, or by rewriting the very history that could have warned us.

You cannot survive a crisis you refuse to name, and you cannot rebuild a world whose foundations you no longer understand.

We have entered a cultural moment where the noise is so loud that it drowns out the simplest truths. We are living in a country that no longer knows how to hear itself think.

So people go searching. Some drift toward the false promise of socialism, some toward the empty thrill of rebellion. Some simply check out. When a culture forgets what gives life meaning, it becomes vulnerable to every ideology that offers a quick answer.

The quiet return of meaning

And yet, quietly, something else is happening. Beneath the frustration and cynicism, many Americans are recognizing that meaning does not come from what we own, but from what we honor. It does not rise from success, but from virtue. It does not emerge from noise, but from the small, sacred things that modern life has pushed to the margins — the home, the table, the duty you fulfill, the person you help when no one is watching.

The danger is assuming that this rediscovery happens on its own. It does not.

Reorientation requires intention. It requires rebuilding the habits and virtues that once held us together. It requires telling the truth about our history instead of rewriting it to fit today’s narratives. And it requires acknowledging what has been erased: that meaning is inseparable from God’s presence in a nation’s life.

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Where renewal begins

We have built a world without stillness, and then we wondered why no one can hear the questions that matter. Those questions remain, whether we acknowledge them or not. They do not disappear just because we drown them in entertainment or noise. They wait for us, and the longer we ignore them, the more disoriented we become.

Meaning is still available. It is found in rebuilding the smallest, most human spaces — the places that cannot be digitized, globalized, or automated. The home. The family. The community.

These are the daily virtues that do not trend on social media, but that hold a civilization upright. If we want to repair this country, we begin there, exactly where every durable civilization has always begun: one virtue at a time, one tradition at a time, one generation at a time.

This article originally appeared on TheBlaze.com.