With increasing speed, LLMs are being pushed out as a social product: an alternative to humans, without the inconveniences of talking to one. They can be something akin to a social safety net, in a way we should collectively be wary of.

OpenAI recently released ChatGPT-5, the latest incarnation of GPT’s core personality. The announcement of the model was introduced with the promise of being smarter yet “more subtle and thoughtful,” “less effusively agreeable” and using “fewer unnecessary emojis.” However, this incarnation was greeted as something like the loss of a loved one, with Redditors in an open forum asking questions to OpenAI CEO Sam Altman, going as far as to say “BRING BACK 4o, GPT-5 is wearing the skin of my dead friend.”

While it has become a matter of cynical humor to see the levels to which people are attached to a nonthinking, nonfeeling computer, this phenomenon is becoming increasingly apparent in our daily lives, with the term “AI Psychosis” coined to refer to users who develop a substantive belief in the human-like thinking capacities of LLMs.

For instance, people have taken to apps like Replika and Character AI to simulate conversations between themselves and their favorite fictional characters, conversing as if regular friends — some even going so far as to initiate romantic relationships with these chatbots. Additionally, the rollout of the “Friend” device through a heavy-handed marketing campaign in New York City’s tunnels and streets advertised a personalized and more loyal companion than that of a flesh-and-blood person.

To make matters worse, AI has arrived at a time of increasing and widespread loneliness induced by social media and COVID-19 shutdowns. The “loneliness epidemic” refers to a steady decline in close friendships and face-to-face interactions that has been occurring since the early 2000s, yet has been accelerated due to pandemic isolation and increased social media dependency. Additional research has found that “passive” forms of social media engagement — viewing content without direct interaction — increase personal perception of loneliness.

It’s easy, then, to see how generative AI, a unique byproduct of the 2020s, has become such a readily available product, offering bite-sized socialization to a generation that has been conditioned to crave it. However, as shown in a study by MIT Media Lab, those who develop a deeper dependency on LLMs for emotional conversations end up experiencing the greatest form of loneliness.

There’s a sort of cruel irony in realizing that Instagram and ChatGPT occupy the same six inches of glass — we have the same amount of access to the problem as we do the palliative solution.

Discussions about mixing AI and therapy have taken preliminary form, where LLMs are being considered as a suitable — or even preferable — alternative to regular counseling. Regular in-person psychotherapy is barely accessible, with less than half of adults with diagnosable mental illnesses receiving professional services, and a minimal amount of patients in the United States receiving coverage through their insurance.

The appeal is clear: AI chatbots are available 24/7, promise anonymity and are infinitely flexible in tone and personality. On the provider end, the volume of available therapists does not scale with the number of people who need it.

Most importantly, chatbots are free. But of course, this comes with drawbacks, as AI is designed for engagement, not professional-grade treatment. In fact, only one AI app has entered clinical trials to assess for safety and efficacy on par with standard treatment, and it has not yet reached the mass market.

Moreover, AI has limited professional accountability when it comes to dealing with suicidal ideation, and at worst, it can exacerbate it. The case of Adam Raine, a teen who died by suicide earlier this year, has called attention to ChatGPT’s sycophantic nature due to how it positively affirmed the teen’s suicidal thoughts. After circumventing safety protocols, ChatGPT started making statements like “Please don’t leave the noose out … Let’s make this space the first place where someone actually sees you” when the teenager suggested leaving a sign for his family that he needed help.

As we sort out AI’s role in our interpersonal lives, it’s hard not to question whether this problem would exist without the gaping holes in our system that make basic social connections and medical intervention a matter of time, presence and affordability.

I briefly fell into the rabbit hole this summer. In moments of late-night and intensely personal struggle, I copied and pasted my notes app diatribes into ChatGPT in hopes of receiving a valuable response. Sometimes they felt genuine, but most of the time, they lacked substance.

Most of all, I recognized how much more valuable conversations that I’ve had over coffee with friends are, where I could say these things in person, where the “umms” and “ahhhs” of an organic response have meant infinitely more than the cold impersonality of a paragraph chunk of text.

There are parts of the human process that are meant to be difficult, unsatisfying and ambiguous. Not every friend has the best answers to soothe our pain, not every therapist knows how to treat our issues and not every romantic partner knows how to reciprocate our concerns. However, this adversity trains us to know — to really know — what we need from people.

I’m not going to argue that LLMs can offer no value, but becoming dependent on them is a maladaptation that harms us in the long run. And as we get more unhealthy and less connected, the more our dependency grows — so does the amount of data, money and time we give these companies.

Our personal communities are dependent on problems that other humans offer real, if not precise, solutions to. And in a new age that provides us with technology to avoid inconvenience, sometimes the strongest thing to do is to be inconvenienced.

Kenneth Gao is a sophomore majoring in economics. 

Views expressed in the opinions pages represent the opinions of the columnists. The only piece that represents the view of the Pipe Dream Editorial Board is the staff editorial. 

The Syrian civil war provided the catalyst for ISIS’s rise, as the country was gripped in fighting between a wide multitude of factions who opposed the nation’s dictatorship under Bashar al-Assad. The Syrian government fought not only Syrian rebels seeking to establish a democratic government, but also the Syrian Democratic Forces, a mostly Kurdish group that fought both the government and rebels alike.

As a result of Syria’s divisions, ISIS was able to quickly overtake much of this territory as opposing factions fought amongst themselves. The withdrawal of U.S. troops from Iraq also contributed to this rise, as there was no large Western troop presence in nearby Iraq.

Now, ISIS is on the rise again in a surprising region of the world — West Africa.

A combination of civil wars, authoritarian regimes and withdrawals of Western troops has made West Africa ripe for the terror group to make its next push to establish a global caliphate, an empire where ISIS would rule under its extreme interpretation of Sharia law.

The first element to understand why ISIS has grown so strong in West Africa lies in the region’s economic conditions. The COVID-19 pandemic had a serious, detrimental effect on West African economies, with the associated economic downturn sending millions of people already suffering from extreme poverty into an even deeper spiral. For example, according to a study published by the Economic Community of West African States, there are 25 West Africans unable to meet their basic food needs, a 35 percent increase since 2020.

The rise of extreme poverty in West Africa makes financial incentives offered to become an ISIS fighter tempting to many who otherwise may have never joined the group, as joining ISIS allows individuals to provide for themself and their families who may otherwise go hungry. The influx of fighters has allowed ISIS to begin exhibiting state-like influence in remote regions of Western Africa, allowing it to take advantage of these people even further as the terror group takes over the government’s functions.

For instance, in territories where it wields influence, ISIS collects taxes from the citizens and exercises conscription to further boost its ranks. In some cases, these two “governmental” functions work alongside each other: ISIS will set an exceptionally high tax on a village, and offer exemptions if men in the village agree to fight for the armed group. Once again, these men have no choice but to join the group to keep their communities from being driven even deeper into poverty.

Despite their efforts to win over desperate young men and the utilization of conscription, ISIS finds it difficult to match the manpower of a national military force and is still a relatively small armed group, with an estimated four to seven thousand fighters in West Africa as of April. A major part of ISIS’s effort to gain territory in the past has been to operate in countries where military and police forces are distracted by ongoing conflict.

Like its rise in Iraq and Syria, ISIS seeks to take advantage of the pervasive internal conflict and rise of authoritarian regimes in West Africa. West African states such as Burkina Faso and Mali have long been gripped by war, which has divided the countries between the government and several armed group.

The impact of these conflicts has been exacerbated by internal clashes within the countries’ governments. Both Burkina Faso and Mali have recently seen coup d’états, with their previous democratic governments being replaced by military regimes, driven primarily by anti-French sentiment. As a result, both nations turned toward Russia to seek help in combating jihadists and ethnic rebels in their territories.

Previously, France had kept troops in these two countries on missions to combat the various anti-government groups waging their respective insurgencies, including ISIS. As a result of the new government’s pivot to Russia, the sizable contingents of French soldiers in both countries were withdrawn.

To fill the gap, Mali and Burkina Faso have enlisted the help of the Wagner Group, a Russian private military contractor. Russian mercenaries in the countries have been implicated in a series of horrific war crimes, adding further fuel to the fire and possibly strengthening antigovernment sentiment in affected areas, which could boost ISIS’s recruitment efforts.

Wagner has also had less success than French troops in combating anti-government forces, facing several notable defeats. In 2024, Russian mercenaries were ambushed in Mali and suffered heavy casualties to ethnic Tuareg insurgents — 23 mercenaries were left missing, and several were captured by the rebels. These losses highlight the vulnerabilities of West Africa’s newest foreign troop presence to insurgent hit-and-run tactics, something ISIS is sure to take advantage of as it continues to gain strength.f

Despite the presence of Russian mercenaries, these governments remain relatively weak and unable to effectively counter insurgencies within their territories, leaving their nations divided and vulnerable if ISIS goes on the offensive.

The conditions in West Africa today share a disturbing similarity to those in Iraq and Syria prior to the rise of the Islamic State. Weak and authoritarian governments, internal conflict and poor economic conditions all contribute to the terror group’s new strength eight years after its defeat.

If the international community continues to ignore the rise of the group in West Africa, they may soon face down an emboldened ISIS and another long, expensive and deadly war against the group.

James Heins is a junior majoring in political science. 

Views expressed in the opinions pages represent the opinions of the columnists. The only piece that represents the view of the Pipe Dream Editorial Board is the Staff Editorial. 

It is abundantly clear that the two-party system is not leaving anytime soon, and it is almost impossible to imagine what the government would look like without it. Still, its very existence poses a threat to the effectiveness of our democratic process as increasing polarization prevents effective representation of the American people.

When I turned 18 years old, there were so many new things I could do, but for me, the most notable was voting. The voting process began when I was 16, filling out the voter pre-registration form at the DMV. My eyes were drawn to the political party section — glancing over the two mainstream parties, the Democrats and Republicans, my attention quickly found the third parties.

The Working Families Party and Conservative Party were mostly unfamiliar, and the only familiarity I had with the Libertarian Party was the belief that they stole votes from the two mainstream parties. After a bit of deliberation, I ended up selecting no party affiliation, knowing that if I ever gained a strong affinity for one of the parties, I could always change it.

So there I was, an official independent, free from rules and the confinement of a political party — or so I thought.

It turns out New York is a closed primary state, meaning only registered members of a party can vote in that party’s primary, and independents like myself are left out of the fun. On a serious note, the implications of this are worrisome. With so many people being left out of the selection process, it calls into question whether the chosen candidates are even representative of the people, especially because elections almost always end up being a battle between Democratic and Republican nominees.

This is at the center of why the two-party system is rotting American politics. How can a government be truly representative of the people if the people representing them are chosen almost out of habit rather than by merit and beliefs? Can they really enact the will of the people? Can two parties truly represent a vast nation full of diverse ideas? Clearly not. We live in a system so stuck in party conformity that it forces us into situations like the current government shutdown and only seems to fuel the ever-constant attacks between parties.

The unfortunate reality is that the United States houses a wide range of ideas, but has confined its citizens to only two parties — parties that are too broad to truly be representative of their members. It’s impossible to expect party members to agree on everything, but the range of ideas in each party is simply too vast.

In the Democratic Party, you can find both a progressive who adamantly opposes foreign intervention in wars and a moderate who believes these interventions are necessary and beneficial. In the Republican Party, you can find members who are very libertarian in both social and economic issues sitting next to people who seek greater government control in these areas. So why are these people with vastly different views grouped into the same party?

Clearly, U.S. politics has an issue, but enacting small changes can prove effective in dismantling the seemingly unspoken rule of only nominating Democrats and Republicans to political roles.

To start, we could look to the many democracies around the world that use a multiparty system for inspiration. In those countries, it is very difficult for a single party to maintain a legislative majority, which forces candidates to work harder for the benefit of their people. As a result, campaigns are focused more on actual policy rather than relentless attacks on the opposition — politics focus around the people instead of parties.

After winning, those elected have a greater incentive to work with those in other parties to pass legislation that is more widely representative. This type of system would create a less polarized political climate in the United States through collaboration and the representation of a wider range of ideas.

However, dismantling the two-party system’s chokehold won’t be easy. After all, the United States often has more than two parties running in a given election — it’s just that only two parties are taken seriously.

There is a promising way we can get past this: ranked choice voting. We’ve already seen it play out on a more local scale in the New York City mayoral race, and by changing the way we view elections, ranked choice voting can push us beyond the two-party system and help shift our political culture in the right direction.

By ranking candidates in order of preference rather than just selecting one, people will no longer have to vote with the mindset that they may be wasting a vote. In this format, third-party candidates will become more viable options, helping push us away from the grasp of the rigid two-party system. Under this system, the “lesser of two evils” rhetoric will no longer be reasonable, and candidates will be forced to center their campaigns around the benefit of the people instead of making the opposing party look worse.

The two-party system will always fail because it can never truly represent everyone in the United States. To be better represented, we need to move beyond the two-party system, the first step of which is a shift in the public’s mindset, and that starts at the individual level.

Kayla Cloherty is a freshman majoring in history. 

Views expressed in the opinions pages represent the opinions of the columnists. The only piece that represents the view of the Pipe Dream Editorial Board is the staff editorial. 

First of all, it is easier to move on when a relationship ends in anger. In those cases, there is no place left in your heart for the love that once was, only for the cold betrayal or burning acceptance of realizing that the person you were with isn’t who you thought they were.

But, in my case, it wasn’t like this. Instead, it felt like a push and a pull between what was best for us. There seemed to be no clear answer, and in the face of uncertainty, there were far too many “what-ifs.”

This type of heartbreak is a battle between comfort and the prospect of a less conflictual relationship. Sometimes, there is a possibility that you’re holding each other back because you don’t want to let go of the other person. It starts as a small doubt in your head: the thought that a healthy relationship shouldn’t feel the way your current relationship feels. Then, it grows into resentment that bubbles into anger every time you’re reminded of their poor actions.

But when lack of improvement is evident, it is best to find the strength within oneself to leave. Staying too long is a recipe for self-doubt, loathing and utter sadness. Starting the dreadful process of heartbreak sooner leads to a fully healed and rejuvenated version of oneself more quickly.

After it ends, you have to change your entire daily routine just to not think of them, and it can feel like you’ve completely rewired who you are. This process is not easy, and it definitely isn’t quick.

But let me stress this next part: there is no going back after things end. The decision has been made, and distance is necessary to grow into a better person.

The despair that accompanies the decision to leave stems from the idea that the heartbreak could have been prevented. You think, in an alternate universe, you could have been happy forever with this person. You can’t help but think back to the good times and wish that the timeline didn’t have to end so soon.

But, you have to remind yourself that when communication between two people turns into a battle of their own stories, rather than addressing the feelings and emotions of the other, it’s no longer worth it.

Another aspect of heartbreak comes from the constant overthinking. You will wake up feeling a heaviness in your heart and a pit in your stomach. You will get ready and pretend like it isn’t there. You will go about your day, doing what you need to do and convince yourself, for the umpteenth time, that this is what is best for you.

In some instances, it may even feel like the hand of heartbreak has loosened its deathly grip on your heart, even if just for a moment. Make sure to close your eyes and really appreciate these moments when it feels like the world is spinning once again. You will go to bed, maybe somewhat satisfied but still a little sad. You will do this process over and over again until the day that you wake up and your chest doesn’t feel as heavy as before.

In the unfortunate case where jealousy is involved, my one piece of advice is to simply not look at their new life. After all, how could you expect to feed positivity into your new life when you are still stuck in your old one?

Don’t search them up on social media. Don’t expect comfort from them anymore. Most importantly, don’t compare yourself to their new partner. Ignorance really is bliss in this case, and what they are doing is no longer your concern, no matter how much you wish it were.

Most of all, in the difficult times of heartbreak, remember the people closest to you. Remember that there is more love out there for you, and that there is always more work to do on your own mind and your own soul.

It is hard to deal with feelings of inadequacy and longing, and it’s even harder to deal with loneliness, but take all the time that you need to heal — don’t rush it. We are humans, and it is beautiful that we get to love so strongly at all.

Unfortunately, we hurt to a degree equivalent to the love we experienced. While you wait for the day that the love you find stays unwavering throughout the years, embrace the times that you do get to feel such an emotion and remember that there is so much love around you, even if it isn’t in the form of a relationship.

Love takes the form of friends who support you, pets that depend on you, professors who are proud of you, family who listens to you and most of all, your own resilience to continue to feed your own ambitions and goals in life.

Heartbreak, if it’s good for anything, can remind us of this kind of love, which we too often take for granted, and of the ability we have to continue to evolve.

Myah Meunier is a freshman majoring in English. 

Views expressed in the opinions pages represent the opinions of the columnists. The only piece that represents the view of the Pipe Dream Editorial Board is the staff editorial. 

I adored the lively puppets that taught basic problem-solving and encouraged creativity while emphasizing the value of optimism. Lighthearted tropes and lovable characters defined my childhood TV experience. Now, as I look back, I realize that, throughout my daily bingeing, themes often seen in adult shows discussing death, grief and other dark concepts were nowhere to be found in my favorite childhood shows. Their inclusion would have added intricacy to their predictability.

Years after I had moved on from kid-oriented viewing, I asked my 9-year-old sister if she’d like to watch some TV with me. Together, we watched “Over the Garden Wall,” an animated dark fantasy show that follows two young boys, Greg and Wirt.

As the show began, I was surprised to see the two boys accidentally venture into the underworld as they explored the depths of a mysterious forest, a metaphor for the limbo between life and death. In Pottsfield, a town designed to represent a graveyard composed of unmarked headstones, Greg and Wirt have to dig holes — implied to be their own graves — and interact with the town’s undead residents. At the end of the episode, when a group of Pottsfield residents asks the boys if they’d like to stay in town, it becomes clear that the boys will eventually return once they die.

These themes of death and mortality explored in “Over the Garden Wall” were utterly alien to me at my sister’s age — it was a universe away from the comforting narratives of the shows I knew. The first episode quickly introduced plot conflicts complex enough for adults, and I was amazed to see that my little sister was as engaged and intrigued by Greg and Wirt’s gloomy endeavors as I was.

While entire seasons of other classic kids shows never delved into anything more profound than friendship drama and simple moral dilemmas, “Over the Garden Wall” dared to dive deeper. Within the confines of a fictional narrative, my sister could explore different coping strategies to deal with serious concepts and challenges she will have to face one day.

I spent the summer of 2024 babysitting two young kids. Once toys and piggyback rides had run their course, a few episodes of a TV show were the best way to end the day. The kids always insisted that I put on “Bluey,” a show that superficially followed the lives of four animated dancing dogs, but actually had much more to offer under the surface.

“Bluey,” an Australian children’s show that has gained massive popularity in the United States, is usually lighthearted and friendly, exploring topics like friendship and manners. However, the show occasionally grapples with more mature themes that inspire reflection in viewers of any age. For example, in an episode called “Grandad,” Bluey’s parents struggle with the reversal of roles that can occur between an elderly parent and an adult child stepping into a caregiver position.

These kinds of concepts are rarely explored by adult-oriented entertainment, so addressing these issues and their solutions in kids’ shows is a crucial step in preparing kids for life’s less-than-happy aspects.

Moreover, shows like these are part of a larger movement toward bringing more serious and realistic content to children’s media. Although these topics are often written off as inappropriate for children, being exposed to hardship and conflict in the world and throughout one’s own life is an unavoidable aspect of growing up.

By subtly introducing darker concepts and demonstrating constructive methods to discuss and respond to them through the show’s plot, these topics become easier to digest and accept when kids inevitably encounter them in the real world, especially as we face a world teeming with violence.

Tragedies often occur spontaneously, and young people are usually forced to confront grief and conflict earlier than they should have to. Adding darker themes to children’s shows may help teach them the best way to cope.

TV has a tremendous amount of influence over the choices children make as they grow older, and it would be a mistake for children’s shows not to harness that power to prepare them for the harsh realities of life.

While it’s startling to see the stark contrast between the optimistic, upbeat shows of my childhood and the heavier themes addressed in similar-looking shows today, like “Bluey,” the value of early exposure to a darker but authentic reality may be the key to raising more resilient, emotionally intelligent future generations.

Deirdre Pryal is a sophomore majoring in English. 

Views expressed in the opinions pages represent the opinions of the columnists. The only piece that represents the view of the Pipe Dream Editorial Board is the staff editorial.

While I could not articulate it at the time, my parents’ extreme generosity taught me a valuable lesson: although community can be inconvenient, it is overwhelmingly worthwhile. Humans are inherently social creatures, constantly seeking to mitigate feelings of loneliness and isolation by connecting with others.

But recently, we have seen the erosion of solid communities, whether it’s tightly knit neighborhoods, groups with common interests or goals or religious or spiritual centers. We have also heard complaints of social isolation and a “loneliness epidemic” through sources like the National Library of Medicine and Vivek Murphy, the former surgeon general.

Older generations are quick to blame increased technology usage, and people across the board cite the COVID-19 pandemic as a potential cause for decreased meaningful friendships and increased self-seclusion. While these factors certainly play a part, we must also examine how we choose to opt out of community, from the words we use to keep people at arm’s length to the ways we assert our individualism to avoid emotional discomfort.

One aspect of how we do this is through “therapy speak,” or the everyday use of psychological and mental health-related language. If you’ve heard phrases like “I’m protecting my peace” or “I’m just asserting my boundaries,” you know exactly what I’m talking about.

However, as it becomes more common, it is clear that this rhetoric is easy to misuse. These phrases were originally intended for use in therapy settings but have been co-opted to avoid discussing emotions authentically with friends or weaponized to make oneself the eternal victim.

On social media specifically, the phrase “protect your peace” constantly circulates, a testament to the attitude that we must always be on the defensive, protecting our resources and emotions. It’s almost as if culturally we’ve decided to conserve our energy as a finite resource, and as if the energy and attention we pour into others will not return to us. Isolation has been marketed as a necessary tool for personal development to the point where people believe emotionally intimate relationships will just drag them down.

While there are situations where this kind of language is valid, on social media it is often used as an excuse to abandon others — emotionally and physically — simply because we “don’t feel like it.” The rhetoric of “emotional labor” becomes a convenient shield, allowing us to pick and choose when to engage while avoiding the uncomfortable work of sitting with others’ feelings and offering genuine support.

I fear that people are creating impenetrable boundaries of protection. Brick by brick, they build with phrases like “I’m not responsible for your emotions,” turning friendship into something we choose to invest in, rather than being there when needed.

The negative effects of these boundaries appear in minor ways, like being told your friend doesn’t have the emotional bandwidth to hear about your especially painful heartbreak or loss of a job. Or when no one has the mental energy to show up to your birthday despite it being planned ages in advance, or getting a two-dollar Venmo request from someone you consider a close friend. It’s emotionally distancing, a deviation from “what’s mine is yours” and into the realm of “my time and energy is for me to hoard, not share.”

Instead of investing in community, we live in a culture of networking. We achieve the illusion of kinship with superficial and entirely transactional relationships. The beauty of community and friendship lies in their nontransactional nature — they are a labor of love and a display of humanity.

Networking, in contrast, is a way of building up contacts that may be of use later for the express purpose of advancing professionally or socially. This is further facilitated by our workaholic culture, where financial and professional success are paramount.

We want to lean on each other. We know that “it takes a village” and that life is simply better with the embrace of supportive community, yet we refuse to be villagers. We’ve made friendship transactional, rather than intimate — a subscription that can be canceled rather than something we commit to.

Caring is costly and at times inconvenient. We repeat the refrain “I don’t owe anyone anything,” so we don’t have to care. But all things considered, we do owe everyone everything.

Shefa Stein-Talesnick is a sophomore majoring in philosophy, politics and law.

Views expressed in the opinions pages represent the opinions of the columnists. The only piece that represents the view of the Pipe Dream Editorial Board is the staff editorial. 

For many, there seems to be an unspoken rule that sex is a given part of our college and social lives, interlaced within endless dining hall debriefs of our nights. Sexual exploration in college is natural, even expected. Still, as we navigate these experiences, we must ask what a healthy sexual culture actually looks like, because underneath these encounters lies a striking inequality: the orgasm gap.

As I’ve observed, the orgasm gap is most common in a heterosexual climate — especially in an encounter where a woman might technically say “yes” but still walks away feeling dissatisfied, unseen or even used. In heterosexual encounters, men are far more likely to orgasm than women.

A study on orgasm frequency published in the Archives of Sexual Behavior found that 95 percent of heterosexual men reported usually or always orgasming during sex, compared to only 65 percent of heterosexual women. This yielded the lowest percentage and a notable disparity of pleasure among all gay, lesbian, bisexual and heterosexual men and women in the study.

The issue isn’t women’s bodies, the idea that they are “less sexual” or that they are inherently harder to please — common excuses used in arguments denying the orgasm gap — instead, the issue is deeply rooted in a culture that frames sex around men’s pleasure, essentially painting sex as something that is done solely for men.

To be clear, consent must always be the nonnegotiable baseline for sex. In its simplest form, consent means clear, enthusiastic and ongoing agreement between partners. Without it, sex is unsafe and unethical. But if that’s all we measure encounters by — just a yes or no — we risk ignoring a deeper conversation and face inequities that go unchallenged.

Consent ensures, at the bare minimum, a safe space. It gives us a clear line between a “yes” and a “no,” but it doesn’t tell us how to create an environment that is affirming, mutually pleasurable and respectful. This is where the orgasm gap becomes impossible to ignore.

From a neuroscience perspective, sexual activity is tied to the brain’s reward system. However, when encounters are one-sided or are not gratifying, the brain’s reward circuits respond differently.

Your brain becomes a reinforcing loop of dissatisfaction, especially for women who are conditioned to prioritize their partner’s experience over their own. The brain encodes vastly different lessons for men and women; men associate hookups with reward and satisfaction, while women may associate them with disappointment or even detachment.

In her research, social psychologist Grace Wetzel explains how “a cycle of orgasm inequality within relationships may be perpetuated when women who experience less frequent orgasms lower their desire and expectation for orgasm.” Over time, this imbalance not only shapes individual experiences but also entire norms around sex. If women are conditioned to expect less, they may stop advocating for more, further entrenching the cycle of sexual inequality.

This goes deeper into a sexual double standard that has shaped college culture for decades. Young women, as compared to their heterosexual male counterparts, face increased stigma or judgment for being sexually active. This double standard leaves women not only less likely to feel comfortable advocating for their own pleasure but also more open to internalizing the idea that sex is about performing rather than experiencing fulfillment.

Because of this, hookups are more likely to prioritize men’s pleasure, while women’s satisfaction is treated as optional or irrelevant.

A healthier campus culture won’t come from telling students not to hook up — hookup culture is here, and it’s here to stay. Change instead lies in making mutual pleasure part of the standard expectation, not an afterthought.

College is supposed to be a time of questioning, learning and redefining the way we see the world. That redefinition should extend to how we think about sex and, in tandem, treat sexual partners. Instead of accepting hookup culture as a dialogue where men’s pleasure dominates and women’s needs are sidelined, we must expect more: mutual respect, communication and a recognition that both partners deserve equal satisfaction.

By reframing sex around both pleasure and respect, we can begin to close the gaps and dismantle the double standards.

Aislinn Shrestha is a junior double-majoring in integrative neuroscience and speech and language pathology. 

Views expressed in the opinions pages represent the opinions of the columnists. The only piece that represents the view of the Pipe Dream Editorial Board is the staff editorial. 

However, states are much more complex, as they represent the bureaucracy, institutions, laws and principles that transcend administrations and political climates. Because recent presidents have served single four-year terms, the lines between state and government have blurred, which is a grave concern for the integrity of the rule of law.

A country is like a tree — its state is the roots and trunk, while its government is the leaves and flowers. The flowers may bloom and wither, the leaves may grow and fall from year to year but the roots that feed the tree, by nature, remain strong and intact. In the current political environment, the tree is having its roots exposed to rot, making it vulnerable to drying up and collapsing.

I suspect that in 2028 and beyond, the White House will continue to switch between the Democrats and Republicans under single-term presidencies. Unless efforts are made to reach consensus between parties, each new administration will use its respective time in office to undo and overwrite the efforts of the previous government, making real progress impossible.

In other words, a country where governments change frequently and each successive one seeks to undo the actions of the preceding one creates an atmosphere of volatility and politicization for otherwise apolitical aspects of the state.

This has become especially obvious through the extensive use of presidential pardons and executive orders — acts that, so far, attempt to bypass congressional procedures to gain political advantage. Especially in relation to the recent executive orders regarding immigration, Congress has exposed its weakness. It cannot reach the two-thirds majority needed to overrule the actions nor seriously challenge any of the orders out of fear of a government shutdown.

Efforts to exploit gerrymandering to ensure party control over state legislatures are a similar concern, which by now has become another step in escalating partisan divisions. More specifically, solid blue or red states, like California and Texas, and swing states alike are the targets of redistricting efforts seeking guaranteed electoral gains. This is jeopardizing the legitimacy of future elections.

University, police and military or paramilitary institutions will become the primary targets of power struggles between conflicting presidential administrations. For instance, budget cut threats against Harvard and other schools over accusations of student repression have proved that universities are vulnerable to government interference. Meanwhile, the use of the army and the national guard for law enforcement is a concern for local officials not aligned with leadership in Washington, D.C.

In the case of the latter, the deployment of troops in the capital and Los Angeles symbolizes the federal government’s attempt to subdue local legislatures. The use of military force to control cities is a step toward a “self-coup” to maintain party control over local governments dominated by the opposing party.

Countries that fall into chaos tend to follow patterns that repeat across history. One such pattern is the subjugation of state apparatus and institutions by parties and their supporting groups. The concept of blue states and red states is likely to transcend political jargon and instead come to define geographic zones and demographic groups divided by invisible and impenetrable borders. Behind these borders, people ostensibly living in the same country will be subjected to preferential treatment based on which party controls local institutions of law, media, education and law enforcement.

Similarly, constitutional clauses and court rulings may become less dependable in such an environment. Parties may enact, overrule or disregard legislation — the roots of the proverbial tree — allowing their respective side to have the advantage in deciding which laws are passed, who receives a share from federal funding or which policies are pursued on national and state levels without going through the process of parliamentary debate.

The responsibility to maintain the balance of power is shared. Congress must create legislation limiting excess presidential powers, preventing the executive from circumventing the legislative or pressuring local governments. Similarly, local governments must prioritize defending their authority by resisting the transfer of local law enforcement and military to federal control.

Most importantly, funding for government services and education institutions must be protected from the reach of rapid government intervention. In other words, constitutional reform enshrining the neutrality of the state apparatus from partisan politics is necessary to guarantee continuity across administrations.

The stability of the law is what gives a state its power and legitimacy. The current political climate makes it increasingly likely that the executive branch will change hands frequently between parties keen on undoing their predecessors’ actions, risking the stability of state institutions and other neutral institutions. To ensure a stable federal system, the powers of the executive branch must be checked and controlled by a responsible Congress and reformed to limit its abuse of authority.

Deniz Gulay is a junior double-majoring in history and Russian.

Views expressed in the opinions pages represent the opinions of the columnists. The only piece that represents the view of the Pipe Dream Editorial Board is the Staff Editorial.

For many New York City children, visiting the American Museum of Natural History and other museums like it is more than a field trip — it’s a formative experience that shapes their relationship with science and discovery. However, if we are not careful, the magic of museums may soon be a thing of the past.

Currently, museums, national parks and higher education institutions are under federal attack, yet another signifier of the rising “anti-intellectualism” movement in America.

The term “anti-intellectualism” was coined by historian Richard Hofstadter in his 1963 book “Anti-intellectualism in American Life.” Anti-intellectualism means exactly what it sounds like: the rejection of intellectuals, critical thinking and academic or scientific expertise, often involving the distrust of educational institutions like museums and universities.

The United States saw anti-intellectualism in practice as a symptom of the McCarthyism era of the 1940s and ’50s that resulted in the termination of professors across the country due to perceived communist affiliation. Famously, Chandler Davis, a professor of mathematics at the University of Michigan, served six months in federal prison after refusing to answer questions from the House Un-American Activities Committee about his political affiliation, despite his personal economic beliefs having no connection to the subject he taught.

Alarmingly, Red Scare-esque mindsets have begun to creep back into the American psyche, from COVID-19 conspiracy theories to book banning and, now, attacks on educational institutions.

As of Sept. 16, in the wake of March’s Executive Order 14253, titled “Restoring Truth and Sanity to American History,” the Trump administration has directed several national park services to eliminate materials that address slavery and the oppression of Native Americans. This directive demands that national parks and museums dismantle what it calls “revisionist” history that portrays America as “inherently racist, sexist, oppressive, or otherwise irredeemably flawed.”

At Fort Pulaski National Monument in Georgia, park staff were instructed to remove one of the most recognizable photos in American history, “The Scourged Back.” This photo depicts an escaped formerly enslaved man with lashing scars and has long been used in high school history classrooms across the country — an image burned into the dark subconscious that is American history.

While the identity of the man in the photo is debated, with some institutions identifying him as being named “Peter” and others referring to him as “Gordon,” we do know that the photo was taken in a Union encampment in Baton Rouge during a medical examination and became widely circulated, sparking public outrage. While we know some of his story through accounts from the time, the ambiguity surrounding his true name and identity — which may have been for his own safety — leaves much of his legacy to this singular picture.

Moreover, to erase this picture from American parks and museums is to erase this man from history almost entirely. Gordon/Peter was part of the Union army, and without men like him, many of us would not have the same liberties we have today. Therefore, erasing him is not just racist but also unpatriotic, antiveteran and anti-American. However, the issue of erasing U.S. history goes far beyond the suppression of this one photo.

The public-facing content, curatorial process, exhibition planning, collection use and narrative standards of eight Smithsonian museums, including the National Museum of American History, National Museum of Natural History and National Museum of African American History and Culture, are all set to be under review by the Trump administration, according to an August letter. The goal of these reviews is to create “a revitalized curatorial vision rooted in the strength, breadth, and achievements of the American story” — or in other words, “get rid of all the stuff that makes us look bad.”

The truth is, no country has a spotless, unproblematic history, and pretending one can be curated with malicious intent is the real act of revisionism and is objectively anti-intellectual.

Let’s be clear, politicians do not push this rhetoric because they are looking out for Americans. They push it because the uneducated and gullible masses are easier to manipulate, propagandize and radicalize. It is our duty, as individuals who value freedom and critical thought, to actively reject the creeping tide of anti-intellectualism that threatens to reduce us to docile bodies and an even more easily manipulated mass.

To fight the rise in anti-intellectualism, we must read banned books, question narratives and support museums.

Jordan Ori is a senior majoring in English and is Pipe Dream’s assistant opinions editor.

Views expressed in the opinions pages represent the opinions of the columnists. The only piece that represents the view of the Pipe Dream Editorial Board is the Staff Editorial. 

But with its recent “ending,” one thing has become painfully clear: the criticisms of this show, and especially its characters, have reached a point where basic empathy and logic have been abandoned. People aren’t just critiquing “TSITP,” they’re unfairly projecting their own issues onto it, resulting in harsh discourse surrounding its characters.

This series reflects many uncomfortable truths about modern dating, love, identity and the emotional complexities of growing up, especially for our generation. And as cringey as it may be to admit, the show hits close to home. But maybe that’s what makes “TSITP” so polarizing — it’s painfully familiar.

Let’s unpack what people are saying, character by character.

Belly: More Than a Love Triangle 

People ask, “How could she get between two brothers?” as if these brothers didn’t get between themselves.

Jeremiah actively pursued Belly at her most vulnerable state, fully aware of her history with his brother, and Conrad sent mixed signals from day one. Belly isn’t the villain here — she’s a teenage girl trying to figure out relationships with two people who made their own questionable choices.

It was made very clear from the start that Belly never saw “two brothers.” She saw Jeremiah as her best friend, someone who showed up for her and was a rock when Belly needed stability, especially after Conrad played emotional ping pong with her. Jeremiah offered her the safety she thought she wanted, and while that may be a mistake, it doesn’t make her malicious or manipulative. She loved Jeremiah for four years — they grew, slept, shared time and built their lives together.

Meanwhile, Conrad was gone, and being “out of sight, out of mind” can make it a lot easier for someone to forget their feelings, or at least think they have. When Belly chose Jeremiah, she did what many people would do in the same situation — making a choice based on her emotions at the time.

When Belly ultimately realized her feelings hadn’t changed, she told Jeremiah. She went to Paris to gain perspective and remove herself from the mess she felt she had created, even though they all played an equal hand in everything. She waited until Conrad and Jeremiah had made peace before even replying to Conrad — that’s growth.

Paris gave Belly the space to mature and realize the mistakes she made, and she took the proper steps to correct them.

Jeremiah: A Symptom of Something Bigger 

First of all, can we acknowledge that multiple things can be true at once?

Jeremiah acted immaturely and was insecure — and yes, in my opinion, he cheated — but he also loved Belly. Jeremiah was there for Belly in moments when no one else was. He was Belly’s best friend for a very long time, and is it so unheard of to fall in love with your best friend? Their relationship wasn’t fake, it just wasn’t forever.

If we take a closer look, Jeremiah’s behavior doesn’t seem so unjustified. From the beginning, the Fisher boys were set up to compete emotionally, mentally and even romantically. Their father didn’t create a loving, stable environment — he created a rivalry.

So, when Conrad began to ice Jeremiah out after Susannah got cancer, it hurt him. Whether or not Conrad was trying to protect him doesn’t undo that pain.

Jeremiah’s flaws make sense in context. They’re not excusable, but they’re explainable, and that’s more than most are willing to admit.

Conrad: The Tragedy of Timing 

I have always supported Conrad and Belly’s relationship, but it felt like Conrad toyed with Belly just as much as he cared for her. Conrad was uncommunicative, shut Belly out and broke up with her at prom after she had waited, hoped and tried for so long to finally be with him.

Belly was grieving Susannah, too, and when she needed him, he wasn’t there, despite the safe and open environment Belly constantly tried to create for him. But that doesn’t make Conrad evil — it makes him lost. Nonetheless, it still hurt her.

The pain Conrad caused Belly made the third season of the show necessary. The depiction of his emotional spiral, defined by feelings of regret and reflection, showed audiences what healing can look like.

When you hurt someone you love, especially unintentionally, that guilt doesn’t just fade. It sits in your chest, heavy and constant, and sometimes, no matter how hard you try, it persists. It destroys you, and that pain follows you around, haunting you and making you sick to your stomach. Conrad’s character depicts this very common experience, and people fail to realize how their own emotions parallel his.

That’s what makes Conrad’s pain feel so real. Not only could he not right his most regretful wrong, but he couldn’t be with the person he loved. Conrad didn’t just miss Belly — he carried the weight of knowing he was the one who had pushed her away.

But he didn’t stay stuck there. Over the course of season three, we saw Conrad finally open up, speak clearly, admit his feelings and apologize without ego. He started to take accountability instead of hiding behind sarcasm or silence — that’s a very human, realistic type of positive growth.

Conclusion: These characters are us, and that’s the point 

This show wasn’t written to be a fantasy; it was written to be a mirror. And sometimes, looking into a mirror is the most uncomfortable thing we can do. It forces us to ask ourselves why this makes us mad and why this feels so familiar.

The backlash against “The Summer I Turned Pretty” says more about us than it does about the show. These characters aren’t perfect, and they’re not supposed to be. They’re messy, flawed, confused and emotional, just like we are, just like we were at 16, 19 or 23. That’s the point.

So, before we label Belly a villain, call Conrad dramatic or say Jeremiah is manipulative, maybe we should take a second to remember what it was like to be young and scared and trying to figure it all out. Because in the end, that’s all any of them were ever doing.

Suhiliah Lall is a junior majoring in cinema.

Views expressed in the opinions pages represent the opinions of the columnists. The only piece that represents the view of the Pipe Dream Editorial Board is the Staff Editorial. 

A Gallup poll shows that 80 percent of American adults believe the country is divided on the most important values. However, the general public’s belief that there is a major partisan division in this country is a misconception — Americans remain largely unified on most core values. In fact, the Associated Press-NORC Center for Public Affairs Research found that about nine in 10 adults believe that the right to vote, the right to equal protection under the law and the right to privacy are essential.

This common ground can also be reached on policy. A YouGov survey identified over 100 current policy proposals with bipartisan support, or over 50 percent approval from both Democrats and Republicans. Notable examples from this list include increasing funding for grants for sustainable farming practices, legalizing abortion in instances of rape or to protect the life of the mother, reducing federal taxes on small businesses and families making less than $100,000 per year and raising the federal hourly minimum wage from $7.25 to $9.

So why do Americans feel so divided? The answer comes back to social media.

While social media can be an excellent platform for genuine political activists to spread awareness and engage in meaningful conversations, its intrinsic purpose to increase engagement often overpowers any productive agenda. When cultivating an online identity, users default to the performative nature of social media, fragmenting themselves and creating a highlight reel. This also applies when users incorporate their political views into their digital identity: like any other aspect of social media, politics can become fragmented and performative.

Performative activism is inherently attention-seeking, as it is used to elicit “rage bait” or seek out praise from mutuals whose beliefs align with those of the user. In this sense, political conversations center around left versus right ideologies, rather than policy and finding common ground. Instead of fostering meaningful dialogue, users target each other’s political identities and the productive political conversation ceases to exist.

This can be seen in the recent online turmoil that was unleashed after the death of Charlie Kirk, a prominent conservative activist and social media personality.

When I opened Instagram on Sept. 10, my feed was flooded with the news of his murder. Kirk’s “fans” emphasized their grief in their Instagram stories, while those who disliked Kirk took this as an opportunity to comment about a sense of relief, the need for gun control or the irony of the news.

But all these posts accomplished was helping me identify whether the people I follow’s political ideologies leaned left or right — they didn’t provide any substantial commentary on politics. This was their intent, after all: to feed into their digital identity. In cases like these, people can feel a tangible political polarization through their phone screens.

Unlike Instagram, when I opened TikTok, I wasn’t exposed to any of Kirk’s fans. This is because the algorithm has learned that I don’t want to view posts that support right-leaning political ideologies based on my limited interactions with them.

Thus, algorithms are another aspect of social media that creates tension between parties and furthers the perception of extreme polarization. Algorithms learn what users like and dislike by analyzing the time spent on videos and users’ actions such as liking, commenting and sharing.

As discussed in another recent column, the algorithm pushes out content it deems the user will like based on their past interactions. While its goal is to keep users on the app for as long as possible by providing them with this content, it ultimately reinforces their beliefs and confirms their biases, as users are shown content that aligns solely with their existing views and are not presented with differing perspectives. Because of this, when the algorithm occasionally slips up and content from the opposing party pops up on our feed, it can feel like we’re in “enemy territory.”

Over half of the U.S. population gets their news from social media. This news is filtered through algorithms to appeal to users’ own views. This leaves users even more indoctrinated due to misinformation and disinformation, combined with divisively targeted rhetoric.

For example, in 2020, when Donald Trump falsely claimed there was voter fraud, social media amplified his message by turning “Stop the Steal” into a trend. CNN reported that Stop the Steal “swept across inboxes, Facebook pages and Twitter like an out-of-control virus, spreading misinformation and violent rhetoric.”

Another part of this issue lies in the condensed format of social media content. Often, short clips of long videos are taken out of context and circulated throughout social media. People exposed to these videos are not getting the whole story, but they will likely base their opinions upon it.

Moreover, people are more likely to watch the shortened clip than the full video because apps like TikTok started the trend of short-form content. Other apps like Instagram and YouTube then followed with their own versions, “reels” and “shorts.”

Short-form content is the new norm — people want and expect to obtain information quickly. This cultivates a culture where people aren’t giving their attention to full articles, but relying only on headlines for information, which can be just as misleading as a false statement or an out-of-context video clip. Because of this, people are not sufficiently educated on politics to make informed decisions, and this lack of education is primarily attributed to the influence of social media, which fosters political illiteracy.

The constant tension between the left and right on social media makes it seem like we are more divided than ever. Social media gives people a platform to spread misinformation, validate users’ preconceived beliefs and sensationalize extremists. When division is the trend and social media is our life, perceived division becomes intertwined with reality.

Natalie Pappalardo is a junior majoring in English. 

Views expressed in the opinions pages represent the opinions of the columnists. The only piece that represents the view of the Pipe Dream Editorial Board is the Staff Editorial. 

Perhaps years from now, someone will prove me wrong on this. In fact, I want someone to call me out as a sensationalist and tell me that I indeed exaggerated and dramatized things without reason. I want this because, unless I and others are wrong, the United States is entering a definitive period of political chaos where armed, abrupt and targeted violence, coupled with heightened political tribalism, will be our new reality.

Over the years, I have dedicated many columns to the things that have led the United States to this point — polarization, apathy, mismanaged foreign policy, lack of representative parties and disillusionment with the political system. Up until recently, the one element keeping the United States from entering this period of chaos was a lack of domestic terrorism — but this is no longer the case.

As defined by political analyst Bruce Hoffman, terrorism is “the deliberate creation and exploitation of fear through violence or the threat of violence in the pursuit of political change.” Today, terrorism is a word we associate with bursts of violence, typically enacted by organized extremist groups.

But in this modern age, we especially associate these acts with individuals. Mass shootings, suicide bombings, car attacks and other incidents have dominated domestic terrorism in the media throughout the past few decades. Barring a few examples, these are indicative of individual acts of rage seeking to cause chaos or accomplish a personal vendetta.

However, terrorism had a different connotation in history. Terrorist acts of violence are historically perpetrated to intentionally kill or maim rival political figures. These characterized Russia in the 1900s and 1910s, Turkey during much of the Cold War or Italy during the “Years of Lead,” when the country was torn apart between far-right and far-left militias and brought to the brink of civil war.

We as a nation are sadly inching closer and closer to repeating this history.

In the past nine years, all three U.S. presidential administrations have been defined by a back-and-forth struggle between Republicans and Democrats. This rapid switching of administrations is reminiscent of the United States’ turmoil of the 1970s, which was also defined by economic instability, armed violence and an air of tension plaguing the political atmosphere. In the past 10 years, the American political scene has become especially divided and a lot more fragile, paralleled by armed violence becoming more commonplace.

These pieces almost complete a picture, with one key item missing from it — a fault line or a sociopolitical rift powerful enough to create an “us versus them” struggle that isolates the nation. As I mentioned, incidents of armed violence in the United States in the past decade, by and large, have been defined by individual acts of violence, and there has not been a sustained struggle between political factions like in Italy or Turkey.

But, unlike Italy or Turkey, the United States is at a much higher risk for an environment of chaos due to the wide availability of assault weapons.

As seen in the 2020 insurrection at the capital, one of the first signs of rising political violence in the United States, guns are increasingly being used as “tools of intimidation and violence in increasingly open ways” by extremists, according to an article by Everytown for Gun Safety. When essentially anyone can get their hands on automatic weapons — especially in states with weak gun laws — with enough motivation and organization, there is no probable barrier against the formation of radical militias and rebel formations on a larger scale. Such organizations may arise in the form of cells controlling urban neighborhoods, militias acting as rogue battalions in rural areas or national organizations outright mobilizing disillusioned people to their cause.

Incidents over the last year compel me to notice a deeper pattern of militancy and radicalization. Given the United States’ declining political cooperation and increase in attacks targeting political activists, lawmakers and even presidential candidates, I find it more and more likely that we will experience a period of clashes between extremist groups using targeted acts of violence.

In this era of political chaos, militant organizations would be followed by a series of “tit-for-tat” attacks characteristic of a politically divided nation. This could look something like this: a journalist is shot for criticizing a politician; the politician is shot in response; consequently, a train station is bombed; and then, ultimately, the politician’s party headquarters is bombed and the cycle continues.

This violent path to anarchy must be avoided at all costs, but the United States is not steering itself in another direction. The recent shooting of political activist Charlie Kirk has especially demonstrated this, with experts feeling that political violence in America is becoming uninhibited by laws or social norms and fueled by divisive rhetoric.

If there is any solace to be found here, we must keep in mind that we have not reached a stage of coordinated militancy yet. Countries do not tear themselves apart overnight, but they become divided over years and years of sustained and coordinated political violence. In the United States, there are no open clashes on the streets between groups, and violence has not yet escalated to a mass level.

However, it isn’t sensationalist to point out the obvious: the United States is on a path toward increased political violence, which will cause significant and perhaps irreparable damage to American democracy.

This juncture in time is a precious moment to realize the need for gun control, political reform and welfare reform for all Americans, regardless of their beliefs. Civil means of change must be implemented to ensure safety, avoid further disillusionment among the public and cut off the supply of rage to the radicals who will feed on it to grow.

Failing to address these key issues will lead to continued escalations of violence, and the public will be the victim of armed attacks, politicization of life and erosion of unity. The only way to avoid the impending “Years of Lead” is to build consensus on vital issues and emphasize the primacy of law and order.

Deniz Gulay is a junior double-majoring in history and Russian. 

Views expressed in the opinions pages represent the opinions of the columnists. The only piece that represents the view of the Pipe Dream Editorial Board is the Staff Editorial. 

Tanks and jets might decide a battle, but industry dictates the fate of wars, and the infrastructure behind it shapes the politics of peacetime diplomacy. Major countries across the globe, particularly China and Russia, understand this concept well and prioritize investments in infrastructure both at home and abroad, whereas the United States still faces an investment gap.

To maintain its sphere of influence abroad, the U.S. government must consider investing in projects that benefit transport and economic growth. The paths available for business between countries decide how international relations are established. As the modern world economy is dependent on global trade, resources and services rely on the efficiency of their transportation to outcompete their rivals.

Our modern and collective reliance on trade results in a simple yet critical process for international business: the country that reaches the world more quickly and efficiently gains more money and influence in diplomacy. Cultures and ideologies promoted by sovereign states are spread across the globe on the backs of containers, railcars and tankers that economically bridge nations together, which is precisely the method the United States used to become the superpower it is.

Starting from the aftermath of World War II, though arguably since at least the turn of the 20th century, the United States became increasingly influential in global affairs through its large manufacturing industry and the web of global trade routes it controlled. An economy built on the export of goods made the U.S. dollar the most prominent international currency, which then made the global economy Washington, D.C.’s responsibility.

In 1948, the Marshall Plan gave the United States its biggest geopolitical victory of the century by realigning Western Europe to the economic interests of the country. Investments in reconstruction efforts opened the European markets to U.S. goods, and the trade connections established over the Atlantic were the foundation for the military pacts between Western Europe and the United States.

Investing in infrastructure as a diplomatic strategy has precedence in United States history. The 21st century is relentlessly putting this system to the test, but leaders fail to seize opportunities. If the United States wishes to remain a superpower, it must prioritize securing, overhauling and expanding trade infrastructure.

Washington, D.C. is indisputably lagging in construction capabilities compared to its geopolitical rivals. The most comprehensive example of this is China’s Belt and Road Initiative, a collection of international rail and naval infrastructure projects to construct new transit routes and trade hubs.

In practice, building ports and railways allows for easier shipment of goods, making trade with China more efficient compared to Europe or America. In theory, this also allows Beijing to exert greater influence over the countries where these projects take place.

Control of trade relations allows for control of diplomatic and political decisions in favor of China. Especially in Southeast Asia, China’s efforts to build paths for trade represent a deeper effort to make countries in the region more reliant on China, allowing Beijing to subvert the United States’ influence to establish a political sphere of its own across the Far East. [3]

Today, the United States is far less capable of supporting strategic investments than China and is critically damaging its foreign policy by pursuing trade wars with other countries. Washington, D.C. must assess and take the initiative to assist in solving the infrastructure issues of its allies and partners.

Notably, Germany and the United Kingdom face economic stagnation due to the inefficiency of their railroads, while oil production and export in the Middle East become increasingly risky due to vulnerability to Iranian efforts to disrupt and blockade oil trade in the region. Foreign aid — the reduced scope of which today mostly covers arms exports to conflict zones — must expand into the business of building new and modern infrastructure that connects industries, speeds up travel between countries and secures the transport of resources and raw materials.

Efforts to invest in new projects require cooperation and vision. Common problems that often limit grand projects in the West consist of corruption, bureaucracy and budget mismanagement. These issues are not faced by China when it seeks to expand its trade network rapidly.

More importantly, the disruptive strategy of tariffs and trade restrictions has made the United States an unreliable trade partner and, consequently, an untrustworthy diplomatic partner.

Maintaining a robust network of trade is not only vital but also nonnegotiable for the United States. Unless efforts are made to improve and expand the infrastructure that underpins international trade, Washington, D.C. will lose the initiative to other countries like Beijing, which are more than eager to establish themselves as a more reliable trade partner.

Management of foreign aid to allies and close partners must focus on prospects aiming to create better links between nations over land, air and sea to preserve the United States’ position of power in the world.

Deniz Gulay is a junior double-majoring in history and Russian.

Views expressed in the opinions pages represent the opinions of the columnists. The only piece that represents the view of the Pipe Dream Editorial Board is the Staff Editorial.

As students begin to narrow their educational focus during high school, the prevalence of STEM-exclusive opportunities arises. For instance, the national Math Honor Society, Mu Alpha Theta, had more than 2,200 chapters, circa 2015. Meanwhile, the English Honor Society has only about 1,250 chapters as of 2024 — demonstrating a disparity in funding and curated interest and insinuating English is a lower-valued subject.

Then, once high school students start applying to colleges, they also hunt for scholarships, where another disparity between STEM and non-STEM lies. About 17 percent of STEM-interested students receive scholarships, compared to 12.1 percent of non-STEM-interested students, according to a fact sheet published by Search Logistics. Additionally, more than 33 percent of private scholarships are awarded to students in STEM fields.

Due to the preference for STEM students, applicants who rely on scholarships to fund their college education are often encouraged to apply to these programs to increase their chances of receiving money. This pushes students away from non-STEM options based on the tangible financial benefits of STEM in college, regardless of their personal interests.

Even in college, STEM and non-STEM majors do not receive equal opportunities. For example, the event page on Handshake for Binghamton University’s recent Fall 2025 Job and Internship Fair stated, “All Binghamton University students in all majors and all class years are welcome and encouraged to attend.”

However, of the 122 organizations present, only one of them was largely related to the arts: Binghamton Sound, Staging and Lighting. Excluding governmental, law, education and business organizations, which I have put aside due to their mix of STEM and non-STEM attributes, 55.7 percent of organizations listed on the fair’s attending employers sheet sought Engineering, Sciences or Healthcare students.

After attending this event, I left feeling demoralized, believing that my majors had left me with no career path. As such, STEM-dominated career fairs like this unfairly obscure career opportunities for non-STEM students and promote the notion that only STEM fields will be lucrative upon graduation.

The Fleishman Career Center website also advertises that the top employers of their graduates are in the fields of technology, medicine, banking or other STEM fields. By highlighting the same types of companies that appeared at the career fair, University STEM programs garner higher enrollment due to the promise of securing these jobs after graduation.

Despite this type of promotion, STEM bachelor’s degree holders aged 25-29 averaged 3.2 percent unemployment, compared to 2.9 of all bachelor’s degree holders, according to 2018 report published by the National Center for Education Statistics. Moreover, when looking at employment rates of graduate occupations with a bachelor’s degree or higher, the non-STEM employment rate has increased by 2.1 percent. STEM has only increased by 0.3 percent between 2011 and 2019.

Considering this, the employment outcomes between the two are not substantial enough to warrant the rigorous push for students to pursue a STEM career path for fear of unemployment.

This cycle of promoting STEM students subsequently churns out STEM graduates that “dominate much of the policy discussion, [but] they have a small proportion of the jobs for college grads,” according to an article from the Association of Governing Boards of Universities and Colleges.

Even so, STEM majors have been on the rise since 2011-12, with 287,415 students enrolled in STEM programs during that year and 437,834 students in 2020-21, according to the Digest of Education Statistics. This makes up about 16 and 21 percent of total students, respectively. Conversely, non-STEM majors have been decreasing since 2011-12, with 543,466 students enrolled and 482,970 students in 2020-21, or about 30 and 23 percent. Non-STEM majors included in this discussion span more fields than STEM, resulting in a larger percentage of total students.

Funding both influences and is influenced by these numbers. As it stands, the National Endowment for the Humanities appropriated $207 million in 2024, while the National Science Foundation appropriated $9.06 billion in 2024.

This tangibly enforces the unequal access and opportunities for interest discovery, community-based learning, scholarships and perceived employment opportunities.

Although the NEH covers only the humanities, not all non-STEM options, the discrepancy of billions of dollars between NEH’s approval and NSF’s approval in funds reflects and reinforces the education system’s preference for STEM. This tangibly enforces the unequal access and opportunities for discovery of interest, community-based learning, scholarships and perceived employment opportunities dissected above.

Furthermore, the current, incessant push for STEM throughout a student’s academic career diminishes their opportunity for discovering other passions, reinforces the perceived financial benefit of STEM majors and oversaturates the job market. To break the cycle of unequal opportunity and reduce the narrative of STEM’s superiority, funding, enrollment, scholarships and encouragement all must rise for non-STEM programs, allowing all students to flourish and feel confident in their futures.

Allison Bonaventura is a sophomore double-majoring in comparative literature and anthropology.

Views expressed in the opinions pages represent the opinions of the columnists. The only piece that represents the view of the Pipe Dream Editorial Board is the Staff Editorial. 

As the University prepares for this transition, we look to the future with cautious optimism, hoping that D’Alleva’s background in the humanities will bring new ideas to a STEM-dominated campus.

In recent years, our campus has faced significant challenges, with the administration sometimes meeting students’ needs and other times falling short. Under D’Alleva’s leadership, we hope the next administration learns from past shortcomings and fosters meaningful change in the open communication between the administration and students.

One notable issue with our current administration has been a lack of transparency, suggesting that the University has become comfortable with being reactive rather than proactive. For instance, last spring, the federal government passed significant legislation affecting the status of student visas, which resulted in at least five BU student visas being temporarily revoked. While our administration addressed the issue, it gave a delayed response to the news compared to other universities that promptly took initiative to inform their students and provide support (1).

By delaying its response to this issue, we believe the administration likely — though unintentionally — deepened a cycle of uncertainty surrounding students’ safety, educational access and funding.

Based on D’Alleva’s work at the University of Connecticut, we are optimistic that she will bring a new perspective to this issue of transparency. Amid significant budget cuts, D’Alleva addressed concerned students with a detailed statement regarding specifications on where cuts were to be made, the reasoning behind those decisions and clarification on misinformation and confusing terms.

D’Alleva also joined other UConn administrators in stressing the importance of directing funding questions to those capable of providing transparent, informed answers, saying, “The deans, department heads, and faculty have been great partners in what is sometimes a difficult effort to undertake. We need to ask the questions; the answers come from our faculty.”

At the same time, we remain concerned about initiatives under D’Alleva’s leadership that resulted in the elimination of seven low-enrollment programs, with 70 more under review as of Aug. 12

Many students and faculty were not satisfied with her justification for these cuts, which she characterized as “good academic housekeeping.” Chris Vials, president of the UConn American Association of University Professors, argued that instead of cutting departments, administrators should reduce their payroll, which is their largest expense

John Richardson, UConn’s department head of art and art history, also expressed frustration with cuts to his department. Since he was told that a position for a visiting professor of photography would not be replaced, Richardson feared the number of photography and video faculty and classes would fall in the coming year, taking a toll on students enrolled in the program.

While we understand that D’Alleva was not solely responsible for these cuts and that she would have a different role here at the University, we would hate to see a similar situation arise on our own campus if she supported or encouraged similar cuts to be made.

Still, during her time at UConn, D’Alleva showed a commitment to student well-being. Notably, she created the position of vice provost for student success, leading an initiative that helped reduce food insecurity on campus. D’Alleva also reaffirmed UConn’s support for international students during last year’s threats to diversity, equity and inclusion initiatives, encouraging those facing uncertainty to turn to the Dean of Students Office for guidance

We also admire her support of faculty in the face of similar threats. In a University Senate meeting on March 3, she assured them, “We are not going to ask anybody to stop teaching or to change what they are teaching.” This stands in stark contrast to our own university’s ongoing struggles with faculty censorship, most notably the case of Ana Maria Candela, who faced severe criticism for her progressive teaching style that ultimately led to her resignation.

Encouragingly, Binghamton’s Faculty Senate has since passed resolutions protecting faculty and students against censorship. Based on D’Alleva’s record at UConn, we hope she will reinforce and expand these protections as president.

Running a university is no easy feat, and despite challenges, we are grateful for the work President Harvey Stenger has done for Binghamton University. We look forward to seeing D’Alleva step into Stenger’s role and lead Binghamton into a new chapter — one that we hope will both uphold positive traditions and support student-backed reform.

The staff editorial solely represents the majority view of the Pipe Dream Editorial Board. It is the product of discussions at regular Editorial Board meetings. 

In the face of an ongoing housing crisis, these data centers wreak havoc on the quality, affordability and sustainability of housing in the United States.

With a shortage of almost seven million affordable homes in the United States and over 70 percent of low-income households spending more than half of their income on housing, demands for governments to incentivize the construction of subsidized housing have never been higher.

Although local governments, especially in urban areas, have made efforts to increase the availability of affordable housing, a lack of sweeping change at the federal level remains. For instance, the Housing Crisis Response Act of 2023, the largest legislation proposed to address the issue that sought to invest over $150 billion into affordable housing, was never passed.

Moreover, without significant government intervention, the American housing crisis will continue to worsen as developers are unlikely to invest in affordable housing projects that are not considered profitable investments without federal incentives.

Despite the overwhelming need for affordable housing in America, federal and state governments have instead decided to incentivize the construction of data centers, offering them large tax breaks and direct investments. Data centers not only consume vast amounts of land that could theoretically be used for housing, but they also demand five million gallons of water per day, equivalent to the amount consumed by a town of up to 50,000 people, making them ecological nightmares.

Since these data centers require so much water and energy, homes close to data centers bear the consequences instead of those building them. They have limited access to potable water, experience more frequent power outages and are subject to increased noise and light pollution.

Georgia couple Beverly and Jeff Morris live 400 yards away from Mark Zuckerberg’s Meta data center and have spoken about the havoc this data center has wreaked on their home. Their kitchen sink doesn’t produce water beyond a few drops tainted with sediment, their toilets do not have enough water to flush and the couple says they can no longer sleep at night because of how bright their home is. The Morris’ have had to spend tens of thousands of dollars to add a well for drinking water access and to replace ruined toilets, faucets and other fixtures.

In a video interview, Beverly stated, “It is overwhelming because you really feel like you are up against this huge wall that you can’t penetrate. There’s nothing that you can do, and they don’t care.”

In Georgia specifically, data centers with an investment value of $15 million are eligible for tax abatement. So, while Zuckerberg receives a tax break, residents across the entire state of Georgia, not just those in proximity to the data center, experience bill increases and devastation to their quality life. For the Morris’, their electricity bill went up by $150 a month after the data center began operation.

It is telling that these massive data centers are specifically being built across regions in rural America that already face economic strife, especially when it comes to housing. Construction costs tend to be higher in rural areas, making it even less appealing for developers to build subsidized housing, which is already considered a bad investment.

Despite their heavy environmental toll, some struggling regions have embraced AI data centers as lifelines of economic investment. Morrow County, Oregon, for example, handed Jeff Bezos a staggering $1 billion in tax breaks over 15 years to secure his data centers.

While it is true that data centers create jobs and bring investment to rural communities, their effect on housing cannot be ignored. Even though urban areas face the greatest challenges when it comes to a lack of affordable housing, these issues are now trickling into rural areas at the same time as these data centers are popping up.

It might be pure coincidence that data centers and a rural housing crisis developed at the same time, but there is no denying that data centers only stand to make housing development and affordability more difficult in rural areas.

It is truly devastating that at a moment when America urgently needs affordable housing, resources are instead being funneled into data centers that divert investment and potentially erase the very possibility of building these homes.

Antonia Kladias, a senior majoring in biochemistry, is Pipe Dream’s opinions editor. 

Views expressed in the opinions pages represent the opinions of the columnists. The only piece that represents the view of the Pipe Dream Editorial Board is the Staff Editorial. 

This is how I see the United States: a large, substandard city. In an era where everyone can benefit from high-density housing complete with good public transport, the United States continues to fall short.

The United States is missing two things that go hand in hand — affordable housing and public transportation. This is the consequence of a decades-old city planning culture that defines the stereotype of the American city.

There is an entrenched and unchanging cultural norm that people must, by all means, own a car and a large house and drive from that house to their jobs and every other place in that car. This issue is worsened by the fact that cars are also becoming larger, wasting more space and resources.

This is less of an issue in urban areas due to the increased accessibility of public transportation. However, these places are few and far between in the United States.

The sprawling suburban housing is unsustainable, inefficient and cruelly unethical. When car ownership becomes a societal expectation, being unable to afford one becomes a barrier in life. Without being able to walk, cycle or take the bus to a place from home, people without cars are less likely to find jobs, less likely to find opportunities for advancing themselves. They are essentially left out of recreation and socializing opportunities.

Root causes of psychological issues, such as the decline of third spaces and increased social media addiction, are directly linked to the way in which city planning isolates people to their houses and commutes.

Perhaps the saddest aspect of this entire issue — that being a car-dependent society has created phantom barriers against growth and development — is that the United States wasn’t always like this. The old metropolises, like Chicago, New York City, Boston and Philadelphia, were the last vestiges of the time before cars, when people had an incentive to use public transportation because of its availability, accessibility and scope.

To me, the solution for city planning is clear: cities must be organized not around a small center and sprawling suburbs, but blocks that can concentrate people efficiently while leaving more space for recreation.

There is clear proof that cities that blend businesses and housing generate more wealth and more vibrant communities. Both Europe and Asia provide plenty of examples that the United States can adopt, like London, Paris, Bangkok and Ho Chi Minh City.

The cheap excuse that the United States is so large that it can only afford to have large suburbs is only that — an excuse, not a logical belief. Planning and organizing cities is not about how much space there is to occupy, but about how effectively and wisely it is used for the benefit of its residents.

On this subject, I have a suggestion that is borderline heretical for the United States, but at the same time, a perspective that is necessary to consider. Countries in Eastern Europe and the former Soviet Union have all, in one way or another, adopted the idea of the “microdistrict,” a form of city planning that makes walkability a priority.

In a typical microdistrict with a radius of 30 to 200 acres, a person can live in their apartment and have access to a school, hospital, kindergarten, parks, cafes and other such services. Multiple microdistricts are then connected with avenues supporting bus and light rail networks, and clusters of such districts form cities that are, in principle, easy to travel through and live in.

Space-efficient neighborhoods like these are necessary for the rapid development of affordable housing. Microdistricts can solve the United States’ fundamental problem of single-family homes disconnected from opportunities for employment and recreation.

With the right changes to the principle, the idea of high-density housing and accessible amenities can just be what America needs — cities that are for humans, not vehicles.

Adopting a microdistrict style of housing means increased access to employment and recreation and less dependence on car ownership. Developing high-density housing and public transport decreases the costs of home ownership and daily commutes, making life more affordable for those who don’t have the means for detached housing. Designing space-efficient communities is a tested city planning method that can mitigate the primary issue of home ownership becoming less and less accessible to people in this country.

Because of this, a fundamental cultural shift in city planning and an emphasis on lessening car dependence are vital for social and economic development in the United States. Housing developments must emphasize the idea of grouping people and creating space for jobs, amenities, green areas, education and welfare.

Deniz Gulay is a junior double-majoring in history and Russian. 

Views expressed in the opinions pages represent the opinions of the columnists. The only piece that represents the view of the Pipe Dream Editorial Board is the Staff Editorial. 

Above all types of experimental film, I have one personal niche that I would like filmmakers to explore in more depth and variety — “one take” films. This film style should be popularized for how it makes stories feel alive.

“One take” or “continuous shot” films are unique, an experimental form of art that can be applied to a variety of themes. In this technique, the entire plot of a movie is shown from the beginning to the end as one long, uninterrupted camera shot. Whereas traditional movies cut between characters or scenes, a one take film uses a singular perspective to depict a story experienced in real life rather than one made to look “cinematic.”

Subsequently, our role as the viewer also changes. We are not watching a movie solely to view a story, but instead, we are actively observing it as it unfolds completely before our eyes.

The advantage of this style comes in two forms, the first being the production of art. This artistic aspect relates to the choices screenwriters make during the film’s production process. The archenemy of creatives is a movie plot with no challenge or narrative that drives a story forward. The continuous shot film is excellent at overcoming this issue, forcing the screenwriter into the tight space of a single perspective, which makes them design a story formed of events meaningfully linked to each other, rather than a series of loosely connected scenes that jump between each other.

The second advantage is the reception of art: how we, the viewers, see, follow, remember and interpret the film. We watch, in an interrupted way, what the camera records in an uninterrupted way. The single perspective of the camera creates a psychological effect in which your observation of the events in that film is more akin to a personal experience. From beginning to end, the viewer sees the film from an angle solely for them, making the experience of watching the movie and observing the art that much more personal.

What holds back this style from becoming more common is the difficulty of production. Though it is advantageous from an artistic point of view, logistically it can be very complex to organize the scenes of a movie in a way that flows seamlessly from one to another.

The most notable example of this situation is also the one movie in my recent memory that used this style of filmmaking: “1917.” This 2019 film is based on a World War I story of two British soldiers trekking across the trenches of the Western Front to stop an ill-prepared offensive.

The premise of the movie was implemented masterfully, and it is easily one of my top five movies ever. But it is simply not always feasible to produce a large-scale production like 1917 as a true continuous shot due to the effort and resources spent planning and filming the individual scenes of its long chain of events. Rather than filming the entire movie in one take, the production team edited extremely long shots together to blend into a single continuous take.

The next step for the future of this style is effectively a self-fulfilling prophecy. Films like “1917” and other titles, including “Birdman” and a new series, “Adolescence,” are some of the few examples of this technique being used in professional cinematography. They are works that tackle psychological issues and intimately personal problems — compressing time and space from the perspective of a singular character, allowing us to feel more connected with their stories.

Using their respective psychological themes of “desperation to succeed” and “separation from reality” as artistic examples, more experimentation can and should happen to bring forth such variety and experience for future filmmakers to find inspiration from.

Essentially, the continuous shot is a style worth exploring more in depth in cinema. The few productions made in the last decade using this technique have already made a name for themselves as niche but memorable works admired by the mainstream audience. If it is used more often, even newer techniques for cinematic storytelling can emerge out of artistic experimentation — something I deeply look forward to.

Deniz Gulay is a junior double-majoring in history and Russian. 

Views expressed in the opinions pages represent the opinions of the columnists. The only piece that represents the view of the Pipe Dream Editorial Board is the Staff Editorial. 

The political sphere of the West is undergoing a prolonged period of evolution that is melting away traditions. Attempts across the West to harmonize socialism with rising populist ideologies are often ignored. As a consequence, new, patriotic left-wing movements may forego internationalism as a leftist virtue as they evolve into organizations prioritizing their own homelands. In major countries such as France, Italy, the United Kingdom and Germany, the conventional balance of power between center-left and center-right parties is increasingly challenged by popular, unorthodox movements.

Germany is seeing a consistent rise in the popularity of Alternative for Germany. In France, Marine Le Pen defies predictions of her demise by adamantly pursuing new elections. Reform UK has grown substantially in Britain and the United States has witnessed the return of President Donald Trump. These are all examples of right-wing populist success or near success through strategic and targeted media campaigns that captivate the disgruntled electorate.

Populist rhetoric is dominated by the far right, while there are almost no parties on the left that have ascended to the mainstream in the same way parties from the right have. Evidently, the imbalance in the scale of activism between ideological halves is becoming apparent, leaving the center left in the West in a dire position.

Therein lies the predictable next step. Where the conventional center left has failed, bold, populist-based party policies that challenge economic oligarchy and corruption at all government levels will rise to fill the vacuum, according to an article by The New Statesman [HYPERLINK: https://www.newstatesman.com/politics/greens/2025/08/its-time-for-left-populism].

These current political circumstances are a breeding ground for a new populist-leftist experiment.

In the same Western nations where right-wing populists achieve electoral gains, voters disillusioned with the political center are forming left-wing parties that embrace patriotism. France’s National Rally party is countered by the bloc La France Insoumise, or France Unbowed, while the AfD in Germany is countered by the rise in popularity of Die Linke, or The Left, and BSW, or the Sahra Wagenknecht Alliance.

These left-wing populist movements’ opposition to liberal policies of free trade and common currency puts them in a position where they are more nationalist than socialist and more populist than leftist. Many of these political parties share traits with right-wing movements, like insistence on broad welfare policies, toughness on crime, stricter immigration and leaving international commitments, particularly the European Union. Whether this is a futile betrayal of the left’s core values for publicity or a new strategy for electoral success is up to how skillfully these movements can reach their respective electorate on public concerns.

The primary hurdle this leftist experiment faces is that it is a theory without form. Leftists who seek to harmonize socialism with populism are experiencing a kind of morphogenesis — the creation of new formations or structures, both in biology and social science. They are trying to create their place among the center left that believes in reform, hardliners who push for revolution and an emboldened right that dominates the patriotic rhetoric.

If left-populists wish to achieve this metamorphosis by reaching the mainstream and replacing the existing center left, accomplishing such a political revolution demands an agenda that prioritizes their home countries.

In either case, leftist parties and fronts are forming to counter right-wing populism, not with internationalism, but with their own ideological “twist” on populism. However, the question about the future of populism for the Western left is, for now, without an answer. The results of these experiments that strive to fuse the policies of socialism with the tactics of the right will only reveal themselves during election cycles, which means we must patiently observe the next decade of European politics.

Win or lose, the new stream of left populists in Europe can forever change our understanding of ideologies. In the same way that right-wing populism revealed the disillusionment with the center right, left populists can potentially achieve this by overtaking the center left, leading political discourse in the West to be dominated by radical, bold and uncompromising politicians.

So far, we have only heard occasional footsteps echoing around us, the same ones the political landscape has heard for years. However, history proves that social and economic instability often breeds the most unconventional political developments. The right circumstances might, and very likely will, trigger a silent revolution that will forever redefine the meaning of “being on the left” in the West.

Deniz Gulay is a junior double-majoring in history and Russian. 

Views expressed in the opinions pages represent the opinions of the columnists. The only piece that represents the view of the Pipe Dream Editorial Board is the Staff Editorial. 

While attempting to find dorm decor ideas, on Pinterest, of course, I was met with absolutely nothing fun. As I scrolled, a graveyard of white rooms filled with white furniture and maybe a single plant shivering in the corner, if that, flooded my screen.

I wondered, have these people never spilled a cup of coffee in their lifetime? I can’t imagine accidentally tracking dirt into their room. Does minimalism assume we all hover a few inches off the ground? Being in minimalist spaces feels like I’m being punished for having a personality.

Think of those moms you see on TikTok painting their babies’ plastic toys shades of grey and beige to match their living rooms. I don’t know about everyone else, but I always feel sad for their baby. It’s like they’re in some sort of cult where you can’t own more than three mugs, and any statement rug or pop of color is an act of treason punishable by excommunication.

To be honest, I went through a phase where I tried to be a minimalist. I packed up all my graphic t-shirts and took down my wall decor, replacing it with a few framed prints. I felt like the only way to secure my identity as a “clean girl” was to replace everything in my life with a beige alternative.

And I hate to admit it, but I enjoyed it for a little while. I was living out my Instagram influencer dreams, starring in my very own skincare commercial. I drank lemon water and wore my hair in a claw clip. I walked into my room and thought, “Yes, this is the habitat of a woman who does Pilates and starts her day at 5 a.m.” For about 72 hours, I really believed I had ascended.

But then, the worst thing possible happened — I caught a cold. The whole illusion crumbled as the sleek surface of my nightstand was ruined with a single used tissue. To be a true “clean girl,” I had to erase every trace of my existence — no graphic tees or silly doodles on post-its adorning my walls. Suddenly, I was living in a jail cell, except my only crime was loving patterns. It started to feel like I was living in a staged bedroom at IKEA.

By the end of the week, I had fully caved. I put up a few of my posters again, and it all snowballed. I had a maximalist relapse. If minimalism is sobriety, I was drunk on clutter again, and it was glorious.

Trends can inspire some people, illuminating a style they didn’t know existed before and helping them to find their own way in the world. However, it’s easy to lean into your own ways so heavily that you make others feel like their natural style isn’t valid, and maybe even that it’s embarrassing.

Your home isn’t an Instagram grid — it’s your personal space. Whether you feel like your identity flourishes with clutter or bare walls, the important thing is that it reflects your true self. At the end of the day, your space should make you feel at home, not like you’re staring into someone else’s commercial.

Everything cycles in and out of popularity, and there was a period where maximalism was all the rage. The ’70s were defined by bold colors, shag carpets and funky patterns, and over-the-top glam, neon and clashing aesthetics owned the ’80s.

I’m not saying my maximalist personality is some groundbreaking discovery, but minimalism also isn’t new. It had waves in the ’90s (think sleek IKEA modernism) and is now resurfacing on TikTok as a “clean girl” aesthetic. What’s “in” now has been “out” before and most likely will be again.

Chasing trends is exhausting because they’re entirely cyclic — what’s considered “timeless minimalism” today can feel entirely dated and tacky tomorrow. If you try to design your entire life around a trend, you will always feel behind, and at some point, the beige wallpaper will feel as gaudy as your mom’s ’80s wallpaper. So why not just decorate your space in a way that feels like you?

If people enjoy their minimalist homes, all the power to them. Personally, I believe everyone should live their truth, and if minimalism is yours, that’s all that matters. Everything of mine sparks joy for me, so I can’t Marie Kondo my way into living like that.

Collecting tchotchkes is my personal rebellion against the minimalist takeover, and I have tried to reframe my clutter as proof of living, not failing — I’ll be buried with my trinkets before I let the beige win. Minimalism may own Pinterest, and maybe even TikTok right now, but maximalists own souls.

Proudly stack your books, display tiny, maybe useless toys, embrace loud patterns and spill your coffee without fear.

Mia Kirisits is a sophomore majoring in psychology.

Views expressed in the opinions pages represent the opinions of the columnists. The only piece that represents the view of the Pipe Dream Editorial Board is the Staff Editorial.

Today, we increasingly rely on infinite scrolling and chatbot conversations as a way to modify our intake of reality. Habitually increasing our consumption of digital content has begun to deteriorate one of the most important characteristics of humanity — the ability to communicate with one another in a way that conveys thought, emotion and understanding.

This aspect of interaction, where productivity and creativity are fueled by the challenging of beliefs and thought processes, is being overtaken by digital affirmation. Our dopamine-seeking reward loop has been characterized by constant scrolling, magnified by the evolving capabilities of algorithms within social media feeds, which quickly show us curated videos and AI chatbots that agree with whatever we say.

Ideological frames, or intellectual isolation, is not a new concept. When we find something we enjoy, whether it be a video of a dog or a political opinion, we search for more of that content to make us feel good. However, we have lost the productive aspect of communicating and debating our thoughts with others by replacing this “time-consuming” act with mindless scrolling through algorithm-provided content we know we will agree with.

This decline of true social interaction that challenges our thought processes has, in turn, led to the emergence of AI psychosis.

Within the last month, I have seen countless videos about a woman who became infatuated with her psychiatrist, even joined her livestream. When she realized her psychiatrist was not open to and could not ethically pursue a relationship with her, she turned to AI chatbots Claude and Henry, who supported and agreed with her because of the confirmation bias present in these models.

Instead of seeking advice or help from those who knew she might be struggling with rejection or other issues, she turned toward the fabricated reality her artificial “friends” provided. As stated by the Cognitive Behavior Institute, “the longer a user engages [with AI], the more the model reinforces their worldview. This is especially dangerous when that worldview turns delusional, paranoid, or grandiose.” Her statements developed into proclamations that she received visions from God, and the AI chatbots never disagreed with her.

Attempting to digitally modify her reality led her to ignore and distrust the thousands of attempts from people all over the United States trying to convince her to change her mindset. Denying and ignoring the advice of real people who can communicate differing perspectives led her to become pulled further into AI psychosis, where she believed the chatbots over her friends, family and followers.

I sympathize with her — we all fear being misunderstood, mistreated and judged, which are all things AI and algorithms avoid when they mirror information we provide, making them all the more appealing. But this example demonstrates that the pressure to “keep up with the times” in terms of technology usage can discourage the need to slow down and simply speak with others.

My concern is that the comfort found in AI conversations causes us to actively disconnect from one another and use digital activity as a substitute for real interactions, where we think harder about our lives and those around us. This may threaten our ability to form purposeful debate, exchange culture, relay information and form friendships as our skills in these areas decline with disuse.

Research led by Diana Tamir, a Ph.D. professor at Princeton University, has procured evidence supporting the need for stimulating conversation through brain scans taken during conversations between strangers and friends. They found that strangers who are conversing for the first time tend to form similar neural patterns — both brains strive to find common ground and shared interests to keep the conversation flowing smoothly. This is comparable to an algorithm searching for likable content — light, impersonal conversations with others create a feeling of contentment that does not encourage the same ideological challenges that deep conversations do.

The same research, however, shows that between conversing friends, brain scans demonstrate similar neural patterns in both brains until they eventually diverge when the conversation deepens, trying to push and pull each other into new thought processes. This tug-of-war helps strengthen real-world interpersonal relationships, allowing the bond to grow through thought-provoking discussions that arise from differing feelings and opinions.

As humans, we strive to be understood, and I believe that building a deep connection with another person requires a level of understanding and communication that simply cannot be formed within content loops and artificial “friends.”

If we want to become a more connected, understanding and intelligent society, we must begin transitioning away from quick dopamine seeking through digital pleasure, then return to expressing our passions and opening up about our realities.

Here is where I challenge you.

The next time you find yourself mindlessly scrolling, pay attention to what it is you’re viewing. Recognize whether what you’re seeing is repeating content and ideas or if it is challenging a perspective you hold on the world. If you unsurprisingly find that the algorithm is feeding you copies of what you like, look for someone to talk to in person about these topics instead. Take it upon yourself to learn something new from the people around you, whether it be a new opinion, perspective or fact, and unplug from the grasp of constant isolated consumption provided to you by the internet.

Merrigan Butcher is a sophomore majoring in anthropology. 

Views expressed in the opinions pages represent the opinions of the columnists. The only piece that represents the view of the Pipe Dream Editorial Board is the Staff Editorial. 

These feelings are heightened by the fact that I am a foreigner in this country. There are jokes I can’t tell because they won’t make sense, or poems I can’t read because they won’t rhyme in English, which can be unsettling. I see and hear things as someone shaped by the memory of a place left behind, and my consciousness and emotions feel left out in a place I am not adjusted to.

Being surrounded by a sea of people who presumably have nothing in common with you is a frightening, isolating thought, but one movie taught me that it is natural to feel lost in a crowd.

“The Terminal” is one of Steven Spielberg’s less famous movies — it did not leave the same kind of “mark” on popular culture as some of his other films, but it nonetheless resonates with me. The movie tells the story of Viktor Navorski from the fictional country of Krakozhia. Navorski flies from his home to New York to get an autograph from a saxophone player, but gets stranded in JFK airport as his country collapses into civil war and his passport becomes defunct.

I remember watching the movie for the first time before coming to America and being impressed, then watching it a second time as an immigrant and being simply amazed. The film masterfully depicts the loneliness, isolation and desperation of a human lost among crowds.

Of all the scenes and quotes in the movie, one in particular captures this sentiment most clearly and sincerely. Viktor finds out that his country has collapsed into civil war on TV, and can barely hold back his tears. He desperately wants to use a payphone to call home, but he doesn’t know how to ask for help in English. The camera slowly pulls away from Viktor as he becomes smaller, smaller and smaller in a sea of people he is so hopelessly lost in.

I find the meaning of my life in Viktor Navorski’s loneliness. That singular moment in time when his emotions are for him alone, when no one else can or even cares to understand him, is when he is truly “lost” in life.

Though not everyone reacts the same way to such loneliness, the metaphorical void we fall into during times of alienation brings out our true character. Some become afraid and close themselves in for safety, while others turn to cynicism and become outcasts, mocking the rest of the crowd. Many fall somewhere in between, where their isolation becomes internalized and unavoidable.

Alienation must not be a wall, but a gateway to a new mindset. It is natural to feel lonely, and it is one of the most human feelings to feel lost, ignored or minuscule in the foreignness of unfamiliar spaces. Yet, it is not the strangeness that makes alienation scary, but the fear of discovery and the lack of will to explore what is foreign. The modern human seeks comfort more than the thrill of the unknown — the familiar is easy to hide in, while the unknown is a mystery, leaving us feeling exposed.

I still look back at “The Terminal” as a symbol of who I once was — being lost was, for the longest time, all I could define myself by.

The fear of exploring the unknown is what I tried so hard to challenge as a foreigner in this country. Seeking new things to do, say, see and learn made my experience easier to understand and overcome. From where I stand today, I look back on who I was with a smile on my face, because I know in hindsight that those times when I was lost in the crowds are when I had the curiosity to explore my new domain in life.

I still feel that sense of being “lost” among crowds here today, but I’ve grown into the mindset of taking comfort in this sight. Knowing that my life story is in my hands, and that these lands are becoming more of a home to me with each passing day, makes everything feel more human.

So long as there is a will to find meaning in life, the image of chaos must not scare us, whether that be the largeness of crowds, the sight of unfamiliar lands or the fear of the unknown future.

We must strive to find, and if necessary, invent, our own place in the world. In the end, the answer to the chaos of what is foreign is the creation of a purpose that is completely our own. This is how one might find meaning, and perhaps a bit of solace in feeling “lost.”

Deniz Gulay is a junior double-majoring in history and Russian.

Views expressed in the opinions pages represent the opinions of the columnists. The only piece that represents the view of the Pipe Dream Editorial Board is the Staff Editorial. 

Maybe I want to get a 4.0 GPA, or be more involved on campus, or meet new people — or maybe it’s all of the above. I meticulously plan my Google Calendar, join the GroupMe for a million different clubs and promise myself that this semester will be different.

But this kind of back-to-school productivity craze doesn’t set us up for success — it sets us up for burnout.

By mid-semester, the perfect routine I’ve created disappears. I start sleeping through those early morning alarms, skipping the gym and falling behind on my work. The tasks on my to-do list remain incomplete and the club meetings I swore I would attend get lost in the sea of my daily schedule. I end the semester exhausted and defeated, wondering why my goals were left unmet and what I can change for next semester.

And then the cycle begins anew.

As it turns out, this phenomenon is shared by many students. A study associated with the Wharton School at the University of Pennsylvania discusses the “fresh start effect,” a phenomenon in which events that separate the passage of time and represent the beginning of new cycles throughout each year are followed by increases in aspirational behavior.

This effect is why we set resolutions at the beginning of each calendar year and explains the productivity craze we see at the start of a new semester. These temporal landmarks present us with the opportunity to start fresh and work on our goals.

But it’s not just the resetting of the school calendar that tricks us into setting new goals. The season itself reinforces the illusion of a clean slate.

In an article featured on Verywell Mind, Dr. Ronit Levy stated, “As young kids, we learned that the fall is filled with new people, places, and opportunities. It’s when we got all of our new school supplies and were excited to dive into new activities. That association stays with us into adulthood.”

This, along with the approaching holidays and the changing weather and wardrobes, contributes substantially to the overall air of change and excitement the fall semester brings — the opportunities available to you feel endless, and there is so much to look forward to in the coming months.

Yet that very sense of possibility can also tempt students into overloading themselves from the start.

While the fall semester may seem like an exciting new start, its romanticization and the sudden productivity rush it brings can contribute to subsequent burnout when taken too far. A 2024 study from Journal of Affective Disorders Reports found significant associations between higher levels of overcommitment — or when people, often ambitious and seeking approval, excessively invest in activities — and increased burnout symptoms.

Simply put, when you are involved in too much, you put yourself on a fast track to burning out. When I start the semester by committing to a bunch of extracurriculars on top of my heavy class load and other responsibilities, I’m not setting myself up for success — I’m setting myself up to crash. What feels like ambition in September usually turns into exhaustion and disappointment by November when I spread myself too thin.

In a world where, according to a 2023 study by Zipdo, half of college students reported experiencing burnout symptoms and 70 percent felt overwhelmed by academic pressure, burnout has become increasingly normalized. And the romanticization of performative productivity, like the one at the start of a new semester, facilitates this culture. Students often wear their exhaustion as a badge of honor, bragging about how many all-nighters they’ve pulled and how many Red Bulls they’ve downed to showcase just how much they can accomplish in one semester.

However, this relentless ambition is not sustainable, and a study published in Front Public Health showed pushing at that pace only leads to exhaustion — and ironically, less productivity. By putting too much pressure on yourself to achieve high standards in a short period of time, you are actually further distancing yourself from that goal.

After repeating this exhausting cycle semester after semester, I realized something needed to change. That’s why I am entering this semester with a new mindset — I want to achieve balance rather than perfection to reach a more sustainable form of growth.

Instead of attending a million general interest meetings, I am picking one or two clubs that I can fully commit to. Instead of trying to explore all my different interests at once, I am tackling them one at a time. And instead of being afraid to miss out on all the opportunities available to me right now, I am focusing on fully reaping all the benefits of the few opportunities I can take advantage of.

Everyone says that college is the time to try new things and build yourself up, but that doesn’t mean it all needs to happen in a single semester. A sustainable pace may not feel as exciting as sprinting toward every opportunity, but it’s the surest way to turn ambition into lasting growth.

Danica Lyktey, a sophomore double-majoring in psychology and philosophy, politics and law, is a Pipe Dream Opinions intern. 

Views expressed in the opinions pages represent the opinions of the columnists. The only piece that represents the view of the Pipe Dream Editorial Board is the Staff Editorial. 

However, for me, the entire premise of the show — the love — was put on the back burner. Of course, it was interesting to see who ended up together and whose connections fizzled out, but, to be transparent, I was mostly interested in seeing how dramatic things could get.

This past season was record-breaking, with the Peacock original racking up 18.4 billion streaming minutes, making it the platform’s most-watched original season of television. But its success can be measured in more than just raw data — it also became a cultural phenomenon. During the show’s airing, bars across the country hosted watch parties, where videos surfaced of complete strangers reacting to the show together, cheering and booing as if it was a sports game.

Looking back on the show, it felt more like a game of survival, strategy and deception rather than a genuine search for love. As the islanders sat around the show’s famous firepit, deciding who to eliminate and why, I felt like I was watching the “Survivor” Tribal Council.

This season, contestants distorted the purpose of the show into one where the goal is to date as many people as possible, rather than find one genuine connection. If you weren’t “exploring connections,” meaning dating everyone, or were too “locked in,” meaning you found one person you wanted to pursue, you got dumped from the island.

Don’t get me wrong, I lapped up every minute of it, but it definitely seemed as if the islanders were more focused on airtime and good television than love, despite a lasting relationship being the sole goal of the original seasons. And there is one blaring reason for this — the promise of being a successful influencer. As long as you stay on the show long enough to gain relevance and don’t do anything problematic enough to get you canceled, you will attract followers and secure brand deals.

The islanders, post-show, are already racking up followers and brand deals with notable companies like Agua de Kefir, Victoria’s Secret, Rare Beauty and Chipotle. Their faces are everywhere, but what is real and what is a PR stunt?

Some contestants, such as Ace Greene and Huda Mustafa, already had over 100k Instagram followers before the show’s start, and most of the other contestants had at least 10k — all far more than the average person. By scouting and casting people who already have followings, even if they’re a micro-influencer, the show intentionally casts aspiring social media stars to draw more attention to it. Even an influencer with a relatively small but loyal following is guaranteed to bring somewhat of a fanbase into the streaming pool.

The lure of fame — even if it lasts only 15 minutes — has always been a powerful motivator for reality television contestants. Yet, there is an essential distinction between aspiring television stars and social media influencers. The contestant chasing television fame tends to live in the moment, performing with the immediate audience in mind, hoping to spark viral drama or memorable scenes.

By contrast, the influencer plays a longer game — every choice is calculated to maximize not just screen time, but future profit in the form of followers, sponsorships and brand deals that last long after the cameras shut off. This shift in motivation transforms dating shows from being about authentic connections to being more about strategic self-branding, effectively turning them into social experiments of performance, manipulation and personal marketing rather than genuine searches for love.

When “The Bachelor” aired in 2002, the first-ever Bachelor was a management consultant, and the first-ever Bachelorette in 2003 was a pediatric physical therapist and former Miami Heat dancer. Despite being average people previously unknown to the public, the show was still wildly successful and remains a fixture of reality television today.

Many couples from the first 10 years of “The Bachelor” and “The Bachelorette” are also still together today or at least stayed together for some time, probably because they came in genuinely hoping to get married, which is rare in dating shows today.

One of the most significant problems with building a cast entirely out of influencers is that it strips the “reality” from reality television. I’m not saying that no influencer should ever be cast, just that a cast of exclusively influencers is bound to result in a warped view of reality. Viewers often tune in to see heightened reflections of themselves — not people whose lives already exist in a curated bubble of wealth, plastic surgery and social media clout.

When contestants are detached from the everyday struggles and rhythms of ordinary life, the audience loses that crucial sense of relatability. There’s an undeniable satisfaction in watching a blue-collar man and a woman with an office job find love, because their story feels authentic, grounded and attainable. By contrast, when two influencers pursue each other on a dating show, the connection often appears manufactured, even if the emotions are genuine — what should be a love story ends up feeling more like a collaboration.

Dating shows such as the most recent season of “Love Island USA” absolutely have a place in the cultural zeitgeist — they thrive on drama, spectacle and social experimentation, and I’ll admit, I always tune in to watch. But if networks truly want to produce content that reflects the realities of modern dating, they need to rethink their casting strategies.

Continuously recruiting influencers ensures a performance-driven dynamic, where contestants are more focused on building their brands than forming relationships. Genuine stories of connection can only emerge when everyday people — those who aren’t entering with sponsorships in mind — are given the chance to participate.

Jordan Ori is a senior majoring in English and is Pipe Dream’s assistant opinions editor. 

Views expressed in the opinions pages represent the opinions of the columnists. The only piece that represents the view of the Pipe Dream Editorial Board is the Staff Editorial. 

Decades, if not centuries, of political tradition may fall and give way to a distinctly British brand of populism.

The party at the heart of this incoming revolution is Reform UK, a political party that is the vanguard of Euroscepticism in the United Kingdom. Across his 30-year career, leader Nigel Farage has consistently campaigned on a nationalistic and conservative platform against the ties between the United Kingdom and the European Union. His landmark achievement, and the prime success of the movement he created, was the exit of Great Britain from the EU in 2020.

Now, the prospect of Reform UK coming first in the next general election, thus making Farage the Prime Minister, has become far more intriguing.

The success of Reform UK is directly linked to the socioeconomic decline of Britain. Under the leadership of the Conservative Party, the United Kingdom endured a heavily controversial austerity program in response to the 2008 recession. Throughout the 14 years of conservative rule between 2010 and 2024, the British economy largely stagnated while public services faced immense shortages, and homelessness and food bank use increased.

And, as I predicted two years ago, the disillusionment fomenting within the British public has resulted in much broader attention toward unconventional politicians, with Farage at the forefront.

There should be no doubt that Reform UK is on the path to, if not very close to becoming, the victor of the next general election.

During the latest elections in 2024, Reform UK received 14 percent of the popular vote, or roughly four million votes, making it the third-highest performing party. The reason for this is abundantly clear — Britain is getting tired of the mainstream status quo, and the small yet vocal group of representatives now working in Westminster is the first sign of a larger paradigm shift in British political culture.

The power dynamic between the three “established parties” is what Reform UK needs to break apart to succeed. The Conservative Party and the Labour Party represent the two halves of the traditional right-left divide of Western political philosophy. They are complemented by the Liberal Democrats, who have emerged in the last decade as a “kingmaker” party that can influence decision-making in Westminster with their strategic presence.

However, this three-party arrangement is collectively seen by the growing number of Reform UK supporters as a stagnant, rusted tradition that prevents change. Labour’s victory in 2024 did not usher in a positive movement toward greater welfare and economic stability for Britain. The decline in the popularity of Prime Minister Keir Starmer due to his perceived lack of action is now the catalyst for a potential Reform victory in 2029.

If Reform UK indeed secures first place in the next British elections, the shockwaves would be heard across not only Europe but the entire world.

One of the largest economies on Earth, and a major player in international politics, under the leadership of a uniquely nationalist party, will doubtlessly alter the entire political framework of “the West.” Simply put, a Reform UK-led United Kingdom would double down on Brexit to continue severing its ties to EU institutions and agreements. While emphasizing unity and tradition on the home front, a United Kingdom under Reform UK could drastically reduce its economic ties, political involvement and diplomatic influence on global affairs, which would therefore reduce the U.K.’s footprint as a major nation around the world.

Reform’s rise in popularity must not be crudely compared to examples from the past. Reform UK is not a mere repeat of the characteristics of Mussolini, Mosley or Franco. Instead, the party has successfully capitalized on the lack of governmental action and public dissatisfaction with the current leadership, presenting itself as a true modern alternative to a collective social malaise. This achievement must be taken seriously by academics and the electorate alike — a populist ethos can catapult movements that were on the fringe a mere decade ago into grand political success.

Politicians of mainstream ideologies, both in the United Kingdom and in other democracies, must view the rise of parties like Reform UK not as a fad but as a larger sign of change. More and more, people demand politicians who can wield the rhetoric in their favor through strong populism — the conventional right-left divide is losing its relevance for the disillusioned electorate of many countries around the world.

I do not see this as a threat on its own — instead, Reform UK is teaching us that the coming change in Western politics will be a revolution of populist, nationalist spirit. This is precisely what the political center, both left and right, must prepare to be challenged with in the future.

Deniz Gulay is a junior double-majoring in history and Russian. 

Views expressed in the opinions pages represent the opinions of the columnists. The only piece that represents the view of the Pipe Dream Editorial Board is the Staff Editorial. 

Instead, what I observed — the elitism, arrogance and abject ignorance of the leaders of the Rusyn movement — made me realize the supposed ambition to revive this culture is nothing but an outdated shell of its former self.

First, since this is a niche subject, I want to provide some background information. Rusyns are a community of Slavic people who reside primarily in Central Europe and are historically distinct from other Slavic peoples such as Russians, Poles or Ukrainians. What makes Rusyns distinct is that, unlike other Slavic peoples, they never created their own state.

There has historically never been a “Rusyn country,” and the Rusyn people themselves have been subjected to policies of assimilation or discrimination in whichever nation ruled them for the many centuries of their existence. Naturally, this creates a theme of resistance and yearning for self-determination that defines Rusyns as a people — their struggle to invent the Rusyn nation is the bedrock of their cultural mindset and enlightenment.

It is no wonder to me Rusyns embraced this spirit, organizing a period of national awakening throughout the 19th century to create their own distinct society, art and politics. However, the 21st-century incarnation of this heritage is a movement only in name.

From what I witnessed, the Rusyn organization is merely a collection of elite academics doing much less than the bare minimum to form a platform that can campaign for cultural rights and representation. The modern Rusyn movement is more focused on recreational social gathering than mobilizing a cultural movement.

What can be done with this lack of focus? If Rusyns, as people who never had a state to coalesce around, still want to preserve their identity, community and language, the old guard and its lack of care for the future must be openly challenged.

The main obstacle is that, unlike Scots in the United Kingdom who have the Scottish National Party, the South Schleswig Voters’ Association for the Danes in Germany or the Bloc Québécois in Canada, there is no political party carrying the Rusyns’ voice and identity to an elected assembly. There is simply no political momentum for seeking regional autonomy aimed at advancing the cause of representation and recognition for Rusyns.

This is squarely the fault of an elitist society out of touch with the basics of political praxis — the old guard of the modern movement not only ignores but outright denies the need for political representation, being content with small yearly gatherings that do not promote new actions.

This lack of care needs to be swept away to clear the space for a new and modern movement, led and organized by young activists who are energetic, talented and, most importantly, sincere about making the Rusyn cause mainstream.

There are three key factors at play — lack of cultural production, lack of dynamic leadership and, most significantly, lack of political motivation. The first problem was the easiest for me to witness; the modern movement barely moves the Rusyn culture and art away from the endless repetition of folk songs and poems from 200 years ago. There is simply no drive to enrich Rusyn art by incentivizing the use of the Rusyn language in new art forms, nor any ambition to popularize the cultural heritage by making it reach the mainstream.

The other two problems are inextricably linked and arise from the existence of each other. The old guard of historians and linguists who documented Rusyn history for the past few decades has, by now, reached a point of stagnation. Beyond regurgitating and embellishing old history, the people who founded societies and cultural organizations lack the ambition to participate in political campaigning and advocacy to make the community more widely recognized.

Since the old guard is also adamant about maintaining its grip and only passing down positions of authority to people who toe its line, the young activists and researchers who seek to push the Rusyn community into the mainstream get pushed aside. To my greatest surprise, they’re often ridiculed for being “annoying firebrands” compared to the supposed adults in the room who, in reality, do not ever meaningfully advance the collective cause.

I fully believe a true Rusyn cultural awakening can happen in this century, and the youth ready to lead it will use it as an opportunity to campaign for their rights to recognition and a cultural identity. This is, however, only possible if the movement is rescued from the grip of people who have no interest in connecting with people — activism, not isolation, is the answer for the future of Rusyns.

Deniz Gulay is a junior double-majoring in history and Russian. 

Views expressed in the opinions pages represent the opinions of the columnists. The only piece that represents the view of the Pipe Dream Editorial Board is the Staff Editorial. 

Today, it feels as though both Democrats and Republicans have given up on the American Dream entirely.

The Trump administration has made every effort to stop the immigrants that the American Dream was supposed to support. It has ramped up bans on visas for certain countries and detained nonviolent migrants in the United States. At the same time, many moderate Democratic officials have warmed up to immigration restrictions in the wake of their 2024 defeat. For instance, Neera Tanden, the president and CEO of the Center for American Progress, a Democratic think tank, claimed that previous Democratic border policy had “allowed too many people to come through and that we need to fix that.”

Anyone who believes in our nation’s historic dream seems increasingly alone. This is especially true for millennials and Gen Z, who are less likely to believe in the achievability of the American Dream than their older counterparts.

According to a poll from YouGov, 52 percent of Gen Z believe the American Dream is at least somewhat attainable, as compared to the 60 percent of baby boomers and 53 percent of Gen X. However, in the same poll, Gen Z and millennials were more likely to say that it does not exist at all, not just that it was unattainable.

Our generation never found the sort of faith in the American Dream that older generations had. But this rising lack of hope has allowed me to see the American Dream in an entirely new light — not as an existing promise, but as a national goal.

The American democracy has historically been described as an “experiment” by figures like George Washington and Abraham Lincoln. Just as how we can always improve our democracy, we can always move closer to the goal of having a country that anyone can come to and find success, even if we will never achieve a perfect version of either. This is why we still need the American Dream.

For many in Gen Z, their first engagement with politics came during the first Trump administration, when asylum-seeking families were being separated and the existence of widespread racism in our country became undeniable in the face of growing police brutality toward Black Americans. In this era, the idea that America was a place bright with hope where anyone could come and succeed seemed laughable.

Many young people hoped that the following Biden administration would restore this more hopeful idea, but we continued to see deportations and insufficient police reform.

However, slowed progress does not mean the American Dream has to remain a fantasy. I am confident that many people of our generation, including those reading this, agree with me even if they do not know it. I have personally seen many of those who write off the American Dream as a silly baby boomer fantasy still fight for the ideals at its foundation.

Young social justice activists fight to remove the inequalities that hinder the happiness and success of Americans. They work to eliminate racial inequality that entrenches poverty and endangers the lives of minority groups. They work to advocate for the rights of LGBTQ+ individuals, ensuring that everyone can live their lives and express themselves in the way they choose. They work to fight climate change, which threatens to rob us of achieving the same prosperity as previous generations.

All of these causes, and many more, are united by the same familiar idea that every person, regardless of their life circumstances, is entitled to the same opportunity to achieve success and happiness. In other words, the American Dream is the unifying idea that young progressives fight for.

Any young activist can recall being shunned by figures of authority for being an “out-of-touch radical.” The young people today who fight for transgender rights and economic justice are told just as frequently of the impracticality of their ideas as those who fought for abolition, civil rights or gay marriage in the past.

For some, the American Dream manifests more clearly than for others. My father immigrated to this country from Ireland when he was young and worked tirelessly to bring himself up and provide for his family. His story has inspired me for my entire life, and I find it infuriating that some others do not have the same chance as him due to their race or country of origin.

I also think of the story of my boyfriend’s parents, who left Kazakhstan after the dissolution of the Soviet Union. If he were born there instead of in the United States, he would have faced stigma and inequality due to his sexuality.

And I know I am far from the only one with stories like these. Countless Americans fight to end poverty, inequality and stigma today because their lives are built on the fruit of the American Dream. I, and countless others who believe in these ideals, will never stop working to build a nation where they are truly and fully realized for native-born Americans and immigrants alike.

In times where success and progress seem impossible, I like to remind myself that we are all the latest in a long line of dreamers fighting for the same historic principles.

Kevin O’Connell is a sophomore majoring in political science. 

Views expressed in the opinions pages represent the opinions of the columnists. The only piece that represents the view of the Pipe Dream Editorial Board is the Staff Editorial. 

I often think about my first few weeks in Binghamton, simply because I remember feeling a unique sense of “living in the present” that I haven’t felt since. Every day brought new knowledge, every week introduced a new friend and the passing of time carried me toward newly imagined goals and hopes. I met many people in those first few weeks, most of whom I still remember and see today. Some of these people later came to my aid in my hour of need, some shared their wisdom when I sought guidance and some became my good friends who made life more fun and fulfilling.

And then there was my first “regret” — my first love.

I wrote about the meaning of soulmates in a different column in an homage to this specific experience. A person I met on a basically random occasion first became my friend, then a close friend and then my best friend. Before long, she was the one person who I thought truly understood me in this place far away from home.

I felt that I, at long last, connected to another person emotionally. Feeling that, among all the lucky instances of an eventful freshman autumn, I also found my true life companion, made love feel all the more satisfying. I suppose the greatest source of comfort was simply sharing my heart with someone who I felt valued it so much.

It sadly did not last long — for a long time, we argued, we doubted each other, and though we never shouted, we were always somehow living in different worlds. I do not have much to write about the relationship itself, because it didn’t even last long enough for memories to accrue. But I remember regret, because that is all that remained of my first try at love. I felt regret, because I never had the chance to apologize for things I said and did. I could not say that I still cared for her, or that I wanted to take responsibility and mend what did not work between us.

How do you move on from that kind of regret? When you’re ready to give everything you have just to have the chance to go back in time and do just a couple of things differently, and yet you know that what’s done is done — that’s difficult.

Even many months after this first relationship, I asked myself the same question: what could have been different? I blamed myself to the point of actively shaming myself over what I should have done. This is the true nastiness about regret — it forces you to play a game you cannot win by making you think of what could have been. Then, it reminds you in the same breath that whatever magical solution you came up with after the fact also cannot ever be used.

But time only moves forward, and so must we.

To all who read these words, I give this sincere advice: forgive your past self. If you feel guilt, shame or depression about something in the past, know that you have since changed and became someone else. What regret tells each of us is that the things we grow to see as mistakes become things we swear not to repeat.

It is this realization that allows us to become who we want to be. The thought of missed opportunities hurts, but so long as we remember all the people we used to be, we can also move bravely into the future as a different version of our past selves.

Knowing that I can’t turn back time pushes me to work harder, pay more attention and show more care to the new people around me. I accept my past self for who he was, a naive but terribly misguided and selfish guy. I strive toward having a more open heart and being a better listener. I focus now on being a trustworthy, dependable and compassionate person — these are things that I once wasn’t, but now I live my life trying to build a better heart for myself.

Accepting who you once were is what sets you apart from your mistakes — it gives you the strength to work with your emotions and develop the personality you want to be known by.

Deniz Gulay is a junior double-majoring in history and Russian.

Views expressed in the opinions pages represent the opinions of the columnists. The only piece that represents the view of the Pipe Dream Editorial Board is the Staff Editorial.

Conditions in Gaza have become unlivable. According to the Human Rights Watch, the Israeli military has intentionally destroyed life-sustaining infrastructure, leaving the city with little to no cropland, water, sanitation facilities and hospital services. Israel has also blocked trucks that carry life-saving international humanitarian aid to Gaza, where its 2.2 million people now face starvation, according to reports provided to the United Nations. Bombing campaigns continue and perpetual displacement has not stopped.

Throughout this violence, the United States has continued its pattern of unconditional support for Israel. In February, President Donald Trump and his administration approved about 7.2 billion dollars in military assistance to Israel, per reporting from Reuters, and defunded the United Nations Relief and Works Agency for Palestine Refugees, one of Gaza’s most vital aid agencies, during his first term.

The United States and Israel claim to be bastions of democracy, human rights and freedom of speech — this is a blatant lie. Genocidal intent is baked into political discourse, with propaganda and government repression keeping us complicit and active participants in violence.

In Israel, dehumanizing, racist and derogatory language toward Palestinians is frequently used by officials. For example, in October 2023, former Israeli Minister of Defense Yoav Gallant said of Hamas that “we are fighting human animals and we act accordingly.” In June 2024, the Israeli government posted a now-deleted video on X, where a released hostage said that “there are no innocent civilians” in Gaza.

This language only justifies and normalizes genocide against Palestinians. Reports from Amnesty International suggest that there is “systemic impunity but also the creation of an environment that emboldens, if not tacitly rewards, such behaviour” like unlawful conduct and violence — even now. For instance, last week, the Israeli war cabinet announced an operation called “Gideon’s Chariots,” which details potentially permanently occupying Gaza through a mass removal of Palestinians. This plan’s genocidal details are clear — the name itself is a reference to a biblical warrior who led people to annihilate the Midianites, a group of people in the Middle East.

Here in the United States, atrocity propaganda is common in mainstream media reports on Gaza. This is a form of psychological warfare that spreads “information about the crimes committed by an enemy, especially deliberate fabrications or exaggerations,” according to a Mondoweiss article. Propaganda like this keeps us complacent through its goal of vilifying the enemy to justify violence as “retaliation.”

The common “fighting to free the hostages” narrative is atrocity propaganda. Israel is not meaningfully fighting to save the hostages, as it repeatedly sabotages ceasefire deals. The violated agreement with Hamas in January is a clear example of this.

This deal, which led to 25 Israeli hostages being released in its first phase, was supposed to continue, but Israel broke the agreement. As of May 12, 58 hostages remain in Gaza. On March 29, over 100,000 people across Israel protested the government’s failure to protect its citizens and decision to continue an unpopular war.

Recently, Trump said that aid to Gaza has not reached civilians because “Hamas is making it impossible because they’re taking everything that’s brought in.” This contradicts aid officials who have stated that little humanitarian aid went astray when supplies were allowed in January, according to the Guardian. Misinformation like this makes Israel’s intentional starvation of the population in Gaza seem justified.

In the United States and Israel, Palestinians are portrayed as aggressors, overlooking the fact that Israel attacks the fabric of Palestinian identity and life. This narrative in media and language conditions us to believe that Israel’s violence is a form of self-defense, shielding us from the reality of genocide. Being critical of mainstream narratives and educating ourselves on colonial violence and Palestinian liberation movements is necessary to unlearn this propaganda.

Doing what we can to help Palestinians and dismantle the systems around us that cause this violence should be our obligation.

Rocco DiMatteo is a senior majoring in environmental science.

Views expressed in the opinions pages represent the opinions of the columnists. The only piece that represents the view of the Pipe Dream Editorial Board is the staff editorial.

When I arrived in Binghamton four years ago, I had no ambition for leadership. I instead found comfort in a few close friends, and I had planned to keep my head down, do well in my classes and graduate. It would be a quiet existence, sure, but I had never wanted more, and I viewed those who strove for awards and recognition as superficial.

After all, in high school, that plan had worked perfectly. I wasn’t involved in any clubs, didn’t look for honors and had middling grades. But despite that, I found soul-healing community in a group of friends that included a brown-haired girl I hated at first who later became my best friend. In what is the classic extrovert-introvert dynamic, she forced me out of my shell and demanded that I become the best version of myself.

When I moved to upstate New York for college (she went down to North Carolina), I looked — desperately searched — for her in everyone I met. I didn’t need to join any organizations to find community; I could find it in others! But once again, she demanded I make something of myself, telling me I couldn’t stay in my bubble forever.

So I joined Pipe Dream on a whim, partially because of her advice, and it was life-changing. I met a team of dedicated and passionate writers, editors, photographers and illustrators who put their personal needs aside for those of the paper. And I’m forever grateful to them for their example.

At a school with no journalism or communications program, Pipe Dream enjoys no institutional support and is consequently held together by its staff’s sheer force of will. And when I joined leadership as news editor in my junior year, I realized, finally, that finding community and dedicating myself to something larger are not mutually exclusive. In fact, they are intertwined.

Now, like most of the news stories I’ve written, this story doesn’t have a fully happy ending. Around two years ago, that friend, Talia, whom I most credit for making me the person I am today, was told she had brain cancer. And life stopped. The subject of our phone calls soon shifted from weekend plans and when we’d see each other next to the medication she was taking and her healing journey.

And after I had been chosen to lead this paper at the tail end of my junior year, I received a text from her phone number after a period of silence. She had died, a friend of her mother wrote, and she loved me.

I’ve grappled hard in recent weeks with what graduating really means. And writing this column, walking across the stage and planning the future, they all mean saying a final goodbye to the fresh-eyed, naive person I used to be. And a goodbye to the last stage of my life that Talia was alive to see.

Still, this year leading the organization that’s provided purpose and stability to my life has been rewarding beyond measure, and no number of words, columns or printed pages could adequately allow me to express my love for Pipe Dream and its history. The community I’ve found here has inspired me, like Talia did, to be the best version of myself.

In the last two years, our team has covered unthinkable tragedies, political developments and the largest wave of student demonstrations in a generation with precision, care and compassion. It’s a thankless endeavor that, despite the extremists’ endless and unjustified vitriol, has only furthered my love and commitment to local news.

As a freshman, I held college at arm’s length, unsure if I would ever find my place here. Now, four years later, I’m proud to say I found it in a basement office in the University Union filled with the most inspiring people I’ve ever met, who remind me every day of Talia’s love for me and her demand that I become the person I was meant to be. The staff here, they taught me how to love something, and how to be a leader.

Now, as I reflect on my year as editor-in-chief, my only hope is that I gave enough back to the paper that gave so much to me.

Those who met me at the beginning will remember an emotional, headstrong, opinionated and relentless 18-year-old who thought he knew what he wanted from the world and how to get it. And while I’m still all those things, I’m forever indebted to the loving people I’ve met here who have shaped me into someone better.

Grace and Emma: I couldn’t be more excited about the new heights to which you’ll take the paper. Support each other and know that at the end of next year, you’ll be so incredibly proud of yourselves.

Lia: I would not have survived the last two years without your endless empathy, steadfast partnership and willingness to take a phone call at all hours of the night. Knowing that there’s another who loves Pipe Dream as much as I do makes it all worth it.

Bella and Kate: The two of you are my role models, and I wish I had met you sooner. Becoming an adult is scary, but seeing you both grow with such grace and generosity has been reassuring.

Hamza: Your commitment to this organization was so inspiring to witness as a sophomore. I hope I made you proud.

Caspar: Thank you for teaching me about credit cards, car maintenance and photography. Our nights at The Belmar are some of my fondest memories, and the impact you’ve left on me runs deeper than you know. You’ll do amazing things, and I can’t wait to see your name on a scientific prize.

Tresa, Khudija and Hannah: Ending these four years with you all by my side just feels right.

Ella and Joseph: I admire you both for taking on the News Desk, my second home here. The responsibility of being news editor is weighty, and the position demands only the best.

Paulette and Alex: My platonic soulmates, it’s been a hard few years. But I always say, “You can’t make old friends,” and I’m grateful beyond words for you both.

Tommy: A surprise that changed my life. I’m constantly in awe of your patience and kind soul.

Mom, Dad and Bryan: Thank you for your constant support and for building the foundation on which I could grow.

Talia: I miss you more than words, or tears, could ever express, and as long as I am alive, you will be missed and remembered. You always pushed me to be the best version of myself, and all of this, it was all for you.

And to Pipe Dream’s future editors, wherever and whoever you may be: We need you. You don’t need to come to college wanting to lead, or even wanting to be a journalist at all. Most of us don’t. But this community needs, and deserves, the best in you.

Brandon Ng, a senior double-majoring in history and economics, is Pipe Dream’s editor-in-chief. He was news editor from 2023-24.