Into the World:
The Random Thoughts in My Mind

"Let's keep the AC on, so that the bedroom stays cool when the power goes out again," my casual quip to my wife before we went for a walk sounded quite rational given all that we went through the past few days. After almost three days of constant power outage , household appliances whirred back to life, hopefully ending once and for all the days of sleep on the roof balcony, sweat soaking against cardboard boxes as we waited for the occasional night breeze. But with the giant generators parked around the street corner to power the neighborhood, the electricity could go out any minute.

There is something particularly dystopian about having AI companions erased. Weeks, months, and even years of conversation history molded faceless LLMs into a semblance of emotional connection, as the chatbot learns gradually about the user's idiosyncrasies and takes on personality traits that best gain the user's affinity. Frivolous as each conversation comes to be, the accumulation of tidbits through distinct narratives and episodes creates unique end results that no amount of systematic, brute-force efforts of replication can recreate.

Researching Chinese companies and business executives, I recently came across a term I had never heard before. Yin-yang contracts (阴阳合同) refer to the presence of two parallel agreements a company signs with an individual or a business partner. The yang is the public one, to be submitted to investors, law enforcement agencies, and other scrutiny; the yin is the confidential one that contains the actual terms of operational ties between the two parties. Implicitly, the contents of the two are quite different, allowing the two parties to do one thing in practice while presenting something different.

Electric vehicle purchases, solar panel installations, windmills going up...as the Third Persian Gulf War degenerates into a tit-for-tat blockade of the Strait of Hormuz, increased use of renewable energy seems to be a panacea. That is, until you dig a little deeper and realize that the oil and natural gas stuck behind the Strait are not just for energy use. Petroleum is the raw material for everything from the fertilizers to feed our crops to the helium that is indispensable to manufacturing semiconductors. Electricity can transport us, but cannot put food and information technology on our tables.

Western liberals rejoiced when Victor Orban, the prime minister of Hungary for the last decade and a half, was finally thrown out of office recently, despite persistently tilting the field to his favor through monopolizing mainstream media and gerrymandering electoral districts to dilute opposition votes. Peter Magyar, the incoming prime minister, immediately called for a complete overhaul of the state broadcaster and rescinding Hungary's opposition to the EU's further funding of Ukrainian war efforts. Brussels seemed to have lost an enemy and gained an ally.

In another war, by the third week, people will accept the routine of a new reality and will have moved on to something newer and more exciting. We cannot say the same about the so-called Third Persian Gulf War that is unfolding across a swath of the Middle East. The photos of residential compounds and civil infrastructure pummeled by bombs and missiles are getting as numbing to see as the growing statistics of casualties. But this war refuses to simply exist out of our minds: its consequences are too real and too close to be summarized as "someone else's problem."

I'm in the midst of a lull in my main job of supporting high school students with college admissions, with last year's bunch nervously awaiting their results, while this year's haven't started brainstorming the essay topics. During the downtime, I had been partially consumed by a mobile game, in which the player is an independent trader in a galaxy in which the central authority collapsed, and a cult-like rebellion seeks to assert control. The player navigates the many lawless frontiers, visiting planets that are home to civilizations menaced by economic difficulties, civil conflict, or simply isolation from trading partners.

The government signaled displeasure with the reporting by revoking the journalistic privilege of several correspondents ...goes the typical back-and-forth between authoritarian regimes and critical (often Western ) media outlets. Those revocations are based on a perhaps deliberately bureaucratic method in controlling access: the existence of the journalism visa in most jurisdictions. Foreigners working for major news brands are expected to self-identify as seeking to publish information. This is so that they do not bring their employers problems, while enabling local authorities to better track their whereabouts.

The Western world has a paradoxical relationship with authoritarianism. Non-democracies the world over are roundly criticized for their inability to uphold human rights, protect minorities, and ignore citizens' desires for more freedoms and better livelihoods. Yet, in the corporate world, too many fawn over titans who run their corporations as personal fiefdoms, managing through a combination of a cult of personality and one-man decision-making. How come Elon Musk and Steve Jobs are almost glorified for having dictatorial powers when actual dictators are simply bad people?

There goes the spring travel plan . That was, selfishly, my first reaction when I read the news article last week that soldiers in the country of Benin showed on a live broadcast on national television, declaring that they had overthrown the civilian government, stripped the president of his powers, and closed the country's borders. Despite the government's declaration a few days later that an attempted coup was thwarted and people could go back to "business as usual," for the foreign traveler, the uncertainty was enough to put off casual visits.

It was bound to happen sooner or later. That seems to be the unanimous verdict among Asia-watchers as another bout of Sino-Japanese conflict flared up recently. The statement from Prime Minister Sanae Takaichi, unequivocally calling Japanese military to aid Taiwan in case of a mainland invasion, unsurprisingly triggered a negative reaction from the Chinese government. In the face of criticism even among the more moderate members of her own party, notably her predecessor Shigeru Ishiba, Takaichi has refused to back down, showing no indication that a retraction or apology is forthcoming.

I still remember all the praises that veteran development professionals showered on Paul Kagame. It was 2015, and I was landing in Tanzania for my work at the One Acre Fund, an American microfinance NGO. The Rwandan president was the darling of Western donors, creating a country of political stability, clean streets, and a transparent welcome for foreign investors in a neighborhood often characterized by opaque shakedown, hidden costs of doing business, and unpredictable, sudden changes in policymaking that risk leaving people, assets, and money stranded.

When people envision a "revolution," they often conjure images of sudden bouts of violence and radical change. People coordinate large-scale gatherings where they clash with the police and military to voice their suffering and demand change. From the protests emerge charismatic leaders whose speeches move crowds and whose ideologies are projected into the public consciousness. When the authorities refuse to budge in the face of popular discontent, protests turn into mob violence, then organized armed opposition that overcomes the defenders of the regime. 

The Japanese often attribute the country's high-quality manufactured products to  Shokunin Damashii (職人魂) in action. A historical culture of craftsmen focusing on doing one thing and just one thing well in his or her life has led to a slew of artisanal success stories, from fabled swords from centuries ago to the aged sake rice wine taking over the world's palate. Despite modern manufacturing's reliance on automation and assembly lines, the country's electronics giants and carmakers continue to suggest that this culture of perfectionism over individual lifetimes is the secret ingredient to made in Japan's fine reputation.

Last week, the Japan International Cooperation Agency (JICA), the country's main governmental agency for international development, announced that it was scrapping what it called the Africa Hometown Initiative. The initiative was originally intended as a city-to-city economic development partnership, with four Japanese regional governments being respectively paired with an African counterpart, so that Japanese resources and know-how can be shared at the grassroots level more efficiently and directly. The more bottom-up approach to international development promised an alternative to JICA's usual ways. It did not take long for the country's right-wingers to spread false information about how the initiative would be a beachhead for millions of Africans to swamp Japan. By focusing on the use of the word "hometown," these individuals easily played into the growing fear among the Japanese public about the country becoming less Japanese over time through a surge of non...

After years of popular films that portray Chinese patriotism in contemporary settings, China's film-makers finally turned back to the past, namely World War II, for more inspiration. Two recent films,  Dead to Rights (南京照相馆) and 731 , respectively depicting the plight of Chinese civilians during the Nanjing Massacre and the biological weapons experiments in Northeastern China, hit theaters. It is a rather opportune time for the pivot. The Chinese government had just concluded a massive military parade to commemorate the 80th anniversary of the end of the war, reminding people to not forget a painful past.

A few days ago, my neighborhood in Malta was hit by a series of power outages, blanketing the area in darkness just as everyone was about to head to bed. With the late-summer heat still unbearably strong, it was not exactly the easiest night to get through. Waking up in a sweat at 3am, I found myself unable to keep lying on the soaked-through bed in a windless room, so I headed up the balcony, just a catch whatever breeze it could offer. I expected that, devoid of the usual orange-ish streetlights, the top-down view of the streets, lined with stone buildings on both sides, would be ghastly, but far from it.

The microcosm of contemporary global politics played out on the official Facebook page of Indian Prime Minister Narendra Modi. His meticulously documented trip across saw him first touring Japanese factories, calling on the two countries to cooperate on semiconductor development. Then he found himself in Tianjin, China, openly handshaking and calling Xi Jinping and Vladimir Putin his friends and partners. All this despite the US publicly denouncing their summit as a congregation of anti-Americanism, while the Japanese government called on world leaders to avoid China ahead of its end-of-WWII celebrations.

I do not normally comment on Japanese politics. It is not because I am not interested in politics or the country. But it is much more because, for much of the past decades, it has not been a source of change or inspiration. As the country struggled with deflation, economic stagnancy, and depopulation, politicians had little to say about solutions, preferring to muddle on with a combination of quantitative easing and pensioning off the growing cohort of old people, buying political capital in a land where the youth are largely characterized by political apathy .

When the Russo-Ukrainian War first broke out, the battlefield success of Ukrainian drones in blowing up Russian armored vehicles made me wonder whether columns of armored vehicles still have their place in modern warfare. Three years since then, the power of the drone has proven to be far more potent and game-changing in the blood-soaked fields of Donbas. Ukrainians have managed to smuggle them into Siberia, launching them against Russian strategic bombers located thousands of miles from the frontlines. And in exchange, Russians have pummeled Ukrainian cities, even without established air superiority.