Keen On America

Tomorrow, America will celebrate its birth. But the decisive moment, even the real birth of modern America, argues Alexander Mikaberidze in his new book The Louisiana Purchase: The Grand Bargain and the Making of America, may not have been 1776 at all. It was 1803, the year of the Louisiana Purchase. The year Thomas Jefferson bought the future from Napoleon Bonaparte. This was the moment the young American republic doubled its size in a single transaction, absorbed the heart of a continent and set itself on the path to becoming a global superpower.
 
The numbers associated with the Louisiana Purchase are staggering. 828,000 square miles. Thirteen states. Fifteen million dollars — four cents an acre, so the mythology tells us. But Mikaberidze reminds us that the deal Jefferson signed did not actually grant the United States the land. Instead, it merely authorised the republic to negotiate the acquisition of land still owned by Native Americans. So it became the founding event of the US-Indian Treaty System that produced over 200 Native American cessions between 1804 and 1970, and cost the Republic billions of dollars.
 
The Louisiana Purchase was America’s grand Faustian bargain. It was a deal that not only enabled America’s eventual rise as a 20th century superpower, but also the expansion of slavery, the destruction of Native peoples, and the 19th century imperial reach of the Monroe Doctrine. So forget 1776 and save the fireworks to remember 1803. And celebrate with croissants rather than hot dogs. Without Napoleon Bonaparte’s generosity, the United States might be just another regional power like France.
 
Five Takeaways
 
•       The Louisiana Purchase: Arguably the Decisive Moment in American History: Mikaberidze’s opening argument: if you had to pick the single most important moment in American history, 1803 has a stronger claim than 1776. Independence established the republic. The Louisiana Purchase made it a continental power. 828,000 square miles. Thirteen states. The heart of the continent. Securing the Mississippi for American commerce. Laying the groundwork for the Monroe Doctrine, Manifest Destiny, and America’s eventual emergence as a global superpower. The revolution created the nation. The purchase created its destiny.
 
•       Four Cents an Acre? The Real Price Was Billions: The famous number: $15 million, or four cents an acre. The less famous fact: the agreement Jefferson signed did not grant the United States the land. It merely authorised the republic to negotiate the acquisition of the land, which was still owned by Native Americans. The Louisiana Purchase was the founding event of the US-Indian Treaty System — which produced over 200 Native American cessions between 1804 and 1970, and cost the United States not $15 million but billions of dollars. What appeared to be the greatest real estate deal in history was actually an authorisation to conduct the most expensive series of land negotiations in history.
 
•       The Grand Faustian Bargain: Slavery, Native Peoples, and the Monroe Doctrine: Andrew’s formulation — the Grand Faustian Bargain, the deal with the devil — is one Mikaberidze accepts. The purchase did three things simultaneously: it made America a continental power and a future superpower; it enabled the expansion of slavery into the vast new territory (the Missouri crisis of 1820 was a direct consequence); and it set in motion the dispossession of Native peoples at a scale and speed that would otherwise have been impossible. The Monroe Doctrine — America’s declaration that the Western Hemisphere was its sphere of influence — would not have been conceivable without the continental reach the purchase provided.
 
•       Napoleon’s Bad Weather: The Contingency That Made America: The counterfactual at the heart of Mikaberidze’s book: in October 1802, Napoleon had 4,000 veteran French troops ready to sail for New Orleans. The bad weather delayed them. Then it was too late — war with Britain was coming, and Napoleon decided to sell. If those troops had arrived, Mikaberidze argues, France might have retained effective control of southern Louisiana, cultivated alliances with Native nations (as it historically had), and used those alliances to constrain American expansion inland. Without the Louisiana hinterland, the American republic might have been a prosperous but regionally limited power, strong in New England and the Northeast but denied the continental reach that made it a superpower.
 
•       Croissants in Kansas, Tacos in Oklahoma: The Counterfactual Continents: Andrew’s closing question: what would July 4 look like in Kansas and Oklahoma if the purchase hadn’t happened? Mikaberidze’s answer: French Louisiana, Spanish Texas, and Native-controlled hinterlands are all in play. The people of Kansas might indeed be celebrating with croissants rather than hot dogs. Mikaberidze adds: or tacos. Almost certainly more tacos and moles, given the Spanish and ultimately Mexican influence that would have prevailed across most of the continent. The American empire of liberty, in this alternative timeline, stops somewhere in the middle of what is now Missouri.
 
About the Guest
 
Alexander Mikaberidze is Professor of History and the Ruth Herring Noel Endowed Chair at Louisiana State University-Shreveport. He is the author of The Louisiana Purchase: The Grand Bargain and the Making of America (Oxford University Press, July 3, 2026) and more than two dozen other books, including Kutuzov: A Life in War and Peace (Oxford, 2022) and The Napoleonic Wars: A Global History (Oxford, 2020), both winners of the Society for Military History’s Distinguished Book Award and the Gilder-Lehrman Military History Prize. He was born in Georgia (the Caucasus) and has lived in Shreveport, Louisiana for twenty-six years.
 
References:
 
•       The Louisiana Purchase: The Grand Bargain and the Making of America by Alexander Mikaberidze (Oxford University Press, July 3, 2026). Part of the Pivotal Moments in American History series.
 
•       Craig Fuhrman, The Vast Enterprise — referenced by Mikaberidze as a new reassessment of Lewis and Clark’s expedition.
 
•       Jedediah Morse (1789) — the geographer who wrote of “American Empire” with a western boundary at the Pacific, referenced in the Monroe Doctrine discussion.
 
About Keen On America
 
Nobody asks more awkward questions than the Anglo-American writer and filmmaker Andrew Keen. In Keen On America, Andrew brings his pointed Transatlantic wit to making sense of the United States — hosting daily interviews about the history and future of this now venerable Republic. With nearly 3,000 episodes since the show launched on TechCrunch in 2010, Keen On America is the most prolif...

“There’s a kind of exhaustion and resentment — maybe sometimes feeling a little foolish about still feeling attached to some idea of this country that seems like it’s maybe not holding that strong or that healthy anymore.” — Christopher Hooks
 
Happy fucking birthday, America. No, not my tasteless language. These words adorn the cover of the July 2026 issue of the 175-year-old Harper’s, America’s oldest monthly publication. From one alter kocker to another. It’s no fun getting old.
 
The Harper’s piece, written by the Texas-based journalist Christopher Hooks, is a funereal essay about his travels around an exhausted America. It began as a reported account of America250 — the bipartisan commission set up in 2015–2016, at the end of the Obama era, to organise the semiquincentennial celebrations. Bipartisan? Internal bureaucratic dysfunction. Disagreements about purpose. Trumpian lawsuits. NDAs. Blah, blah, blah. Hooks found it demoralising. The landscape of Washington DC, he writes mournfully, is didactic and insistent. Some alter kocker is always trying to teach you something.
 
But some people do, indeed, have something to teach us. Hooks’ piece ends with Thaddeus Stevens — the club-footed, cranky, ugly radical Republican congressman who was born a few years after the Constitution was ratified. Stevens spent most of his long life believing in perfect racial and ethnic equality, helped frame the 14th Amendment as a second founding father, and died deeply disappointed. And, of course, that disappointment would only be compounded if he could see what Christopher Hooks saw in his recent trip around the contemporary United States.
 
Dear America — happy fucking birthday. Love, uncle Thaddeus.
 
Five Takeaways
 
•       Happy Fucking Birthday: The Title, the Feeling, and the Cover of Harper’s: Hooks’ editor at Harper’s came up with the title. Hooks is glad they did. It matches the feeling: exhaustion, resentment, and a kind of embarrassment at still feeling attached to an idea of America that seems like it’s not holding together. His father — a Republican for most of his life until 2016 — wakes up every morning and has to deal with the fact that America is maybe not the thing he thought it was. He feels humiliated. His son does too. Nobody likes to be fooled. And part of the unique indignity of the Trump era is the delight Trump and his people take in rubbing the noses of liberals in the abuse of American symbols.
 
•       The America250 Commission: Dysfunction, Lawsuits, and a Startup Fund: America250 was a bipartisan commission set up at the end of the Obama era to organise the semiquincentennial celebrations. By the time Hooks arrived at their press briefing, they had survived internal dysfunction, disagreements about purpose, lawsuits, and NDAs. Trump’s people had been brought in; fighting followed. Their proudest achievement: a venture capital seed fund to help American college students start companies, as a way of repairing the lack of patriotism polling says younger Americans feel. It felt to Hooks like it came from a past political moment — discredited and distant. He came out of the briefing dispirited.
 
•       The History of Semiquincentennials: 1876 Had Juice, 1976 Had Amnesia: Milestone commemorations have usually been emotionally complicated. 1926 was a disaster. 1976 — at the end of Vietnam and after Watergate — surprised many by producing an unexpected wave of patriotic sentiment that washed away, at least for a day, the gnawing doubts. That amnesia helped make possible both Jimmy Carter and the Reagan revolution. But the moment of maximum danger had passed by then. The one commemoration that had genuine juice, in Hooks’ view, was 1876 — the Centennial Exposition in Philadelphia, a world’s fair that was a genuine moment of national energy. The 250th is not that.
 
•       Thaddeus Stevens: The Honest Version of America’s Story: Hooks ends his piece with Thaddeus Stevens — the radical Republican congressman, club-footed, cranky, and widely described as ugly by his contemporaries. Born a few years after the Constitution was ratified. Believed in perfect racial and ethnic equality when almost no one else did. Helped frame the 14th Amendment as a second founding father of American democracy. Died deeply disappointed. His story, Hooks suggests, is the most honest version of how to be attached to America: feeling profound anger about the country as it is, working for something better, not living to see it, and laying the groundwork for what comes after.
 
•       Not Going to a Sanctioned Celebration Zone: Hooks will spend July 4 in New York, having a few beers with friends. Probably not going to a sanctioned celebration zone. Not setting off fireworks. His father will be in Texas, doing roughly the same. Both men share what Hooks calls a feeling of humiliation — a sense that they were fooled about what America was, and that the process of reckoning with that is long and ongoing. The Gilded Age was also pretty bleak, Hooks notes, and in time it was replaced by the progressive era and the New Deal. American history swings in big pendulum arcs. He wants to have hope. Some days it’s easier than others.
 
About the Guest
 
Christopher Hooks is a journalist who writes about Texas politics for Texas Monthly and national politics for Harper’s Magazine, The New Republic, and others. He divides his time between Austin, Texas and Brooklyn, New York. His piece “Happy Fucking Birthday: An Exhausted America Turns Two Hundred and Fifty,” is the cover story of the July 2026 issue of Harper’s Magazine.
 
References:
 
•       “Happy Fucking Birthday: An Exhausted America Turns Two Hundred and Fifty” by Christopher Hooks, Harper’s Magazine, July 2026.
 
•       Ben Fountain, Rasputin Swims the Potomac — referenced at the opening; recent KOA guest.
 
•       Peter Wehner, “The Apotheosis of Donald Trump,” The Atlantic, June 14, 2026 — referenced; recent KOA guest.
 
•       Thaddeus Stevens (1792–1868) — radical Republican congressman, abolitionist, framer of the 14th Amendment.
 
•       America250 — the federal commission organising the US semiquincentennial celebrations.
 
About Keen On America
 
Nobody asks more awkward questions than the Anglo-American writer and filmmaker Andrew Keen. In Keen On America, Andrew brings his pointed Transatlantic wit to making sense of the United States — hosting daily interviews about the history and future of ...

“The second law of thermodynamics is not to be negotiated with.” — Thomas S. Mullaney
 
The second law of thermodynamics is non-negotiable. The universe will end. Every human being dies. Everything decays and every record disintegrates. So why record history? Why bother remembering? These are the questions that the Stanford historian Thomas S. Mullaney addresses in his intriguing new book, How We Disappear: A Personal History of Information.
 
How We Disappear is triggered by grief. Mullaney’s father — a man he never fully understood, an exile in an estranged household — died unexpectedly in 2017. Sitting in his father’s office surrounded by the “paperwork of death,” Mullaney’s training as a historian crystallised into an all-too-personal project of disappearance. It’s a book about what Mullaney calls “intransitive disappearance” — not the spectacular, cataclysmic kind of traditional historiography (wars, book burnings, genocide) but the everyday, uneventful ways things fall apart. Like Thomas Mullaney’s dad. Existence as obsolescence, erosion, sinescence and the slow drift of the unremarkable into nothing.
 
History, in Mullaney’s account, is a Sisyphean fight against this nothingness. We tell stories to survive and maintain the polite appearance of coherence. If you actually tried to reconstruct experience — the thing-in-itself — you would need an infinite library of trillion-page books. Existence, for Mullaney, is a swirl of stimuli and daydream. History tries to domesticate this Borgesian swirl. So does consciousness itself. That’s why, as Mullaney memorably puts it, “historians do the dirty work of necromancers.” Which is to say they try to negotiate with the second law of thermodynamics.
 
Five Takeaways
 
•       Intransitive Disappearance: The Everyday Way Things Fall Apart: Mullaney’s central concept: intransitive disappearance. Not the spectacular, cataclysmic kind — book burnings, genocide, the destruction of the Library of Alexandria — but the everyday, drifty, uneventful ways things disintegrate. Obsolescence. Erosion. Sinescence. The unremarkable drift of the unremarkable into nothing. He became obsessed with these forms of disappearance — a pack rat across every discipline he could think of — for twenty-five years. His father’s unexpected death in 2017, sitting in his father’s office amid the paperwork of death, crystallised what had been inchoate into a book.
 
•       History as Domesticated Experience: The Trillion-Page Book: If you tried to actually reconstruct experience — the actual thing, unfiltered — you would need a trillion-page book that would make Naked Lunch look like a kindergarten primer. You’d have to say how many hairs were on his head; whether he favoured his left foot over his right; the scent of his aftershave. Experience, unfiltered, is an n-dimensional vortex of stimuli and daydream. Anytime you read a work of history, you are reading experience that has been domesticated into narrative — with turning points, main characters, thematic arguments. Historians know this. Every practising historian knows that the ideal of reconstructing human experience can never be reached.
 
•       The Vocal Defence of History: Why Do It If You Know It’s Impossible? Mullaney’s answer to the subversive question: history is just the professional counterpart of what every human being does every second of their existence. You, right now, telling yourself the story of your experience, are already well into postproduction. Your experience of being a person in a chair talking to another person on a couch — that is already domesticated. Human beings need to tell stories to live, to maintain continuity, to maintain coherence. Historians do the same thing under certain rules and protocols. The futility of history is the futility of consciousness itself. Neither is a reason not to try.
 
•       The Second Law of Thermodynamics Is Not to Be Negotiated With: The universe will end. Every human being dies. Everything we create decays. Every record disintegrates. Mullaney is unsparing about this. He is also, in his strange way, cheerful about it: we don’t need to last forever to have meant something. The meaning is not in the permanence. It is in the making. He would like the Silicon Valley immortality seekers — Kurzweil, the others, all those negotiating with thermodynamics from Palo Alto — to read the book, to face the facts, and then to find the alternative: rejoining physical reality and finding very deep meaning in that.
 
•       AI Bots of Deceased Parents: Stop: Andrew raises the obvious question: what would Mullaney say to the people in Palo Alto building AI bots of your deceased mother and father, so they can exist forever for your children and grandchildren? Mullaney’s answer is one word: stop. Human beings do not have the wetware — the biological critical apparatus — to maintain distance from a deep fake of their deceased parent. It short-circuits us. It bypasses our limitations. He cannot fathom, outside of very specific, closely monitored therapeutic settings, an argument in which this is a good idea. Paul Postman’s phrase: we are amusing ourselves to death. And there is very little critical reflection coming out of the neighbourhoods where this stuff is being made.
 
About the Guest
 
Thomas S. Mullaney is Professor of History at Stanford University, a Guggenheim Fellow, and the former Kluge Chair in Technology and Society at the Library of Congress. He is the author of How We Disappear: A Personal History of Information (W. W. Norton, June 23, 2026) and four previous books on Chinese history and technology, including The Chinese Typewriter: A History (winner of multiple awards). He lives in Palo Alto, California.
 
References:
 
•       How We Disappear: A Personal History of Information by Thomas S. Mullaney (W. W. Norton, June 23, 2026).
 
•       Jorge Luis Borges — referenced; the infinite library, the map that equals the terrain.
 
•       Neil Postman, Amusing Ourselves to Death — referenced in the closing discussion on AI and human limitations.
 
•       Kara Swisher — referenced for her CNN series on Silicon Valley immortality seekers.
 
•       Ray Kurzweil — referenced as an exemplar of tech-utopian immortality thinking.
 
About Keen On America
 
Nobody asks more awkward questions than the Anglo-American writer and filmmaker Andrew Keen. In Keen On America, Andrew brings his pointed Transatlantic wit to making sense of the United States — hosting daily interviews about the history and future of this now venerable Republic. With nearly 3,000 episodes since the show launched on TechCrunch in 2010, Keen On America is the most prolific intellectual interview show in the history of podcasting.

“If I perish, I perish.” — the chant Katie Gaddini heard from Esther’s Army at the National Mall, weeks before the 2024 election
 
Back in 2021, at the height of the pandemic, Margaret Atwood came on the show to talk about The Handmaid’s Tale — her warning of how trad wives, to borrow a contemporary phrase, could be exploited by an evangelical patriarchy. Five years later, the Stanford fellow Katie Gaddini offers a strikingly different vision. Her new book, Esther’s Army: The Christian Women Who Power the American Right (out today), is the product of nine years of research and over 100 interviews with conservative Christian women across 28 states.
 
These women, this army of Esthers, are not handmaidens, Gaddini concludes. “They are very much in charge. They are politically engaged. They, in many cases, hold political positions of power.”
 
Gaddini grew up as an evangelical — her father a pastor, with four more pastors in her extended family. She voted for George Bush “naturally,” before discovering she could be a Christian and not a Republican. But she is less a rebel against her upbringing as much as a sociologist with a Cambridge doctorate.
 
She was living in London when Trump won the 2016 nomination and wondered how it was that Christian women were planning to vote for this most imperfect of men? Nine years and 100 interviews later, the answer turns out to be more complicated than the standard liberal media exploitation tale about handmaids.
 
The book’s title comes from the women themselves. At a 250,000-person rally on the National Mall weeks before the 2024 election, Gaddini saw women wearing gold-plated Esther necklaces, chanting “If I perish, I perish” from the Book of Esther. Gaddini interprets this as a striking theological shift — away from the forgiveness of the New Testament toward the Manichaean Old Testament narrative of violence, destruction, and an imperfect male figure designed by God to redeem the rest of us. Donald Trump, in this telling, is King David. Or Jehu.
 
Margaret Atwood better watch out. This Army of Esthers are warriors, not handmaidens, and they are preparing for an apocalyptical war. If you perish, you perish. Another Old Testament-style pandemic.
 
Five Takeaways
 
•       Not Handmaids: Trad Wives Are a Tiny, Overhyped Fringe: Gaddini went into nine years of research expecting to find Atwood-style oppression. Instead: only one of her hundred-plus interviewees follows a trad wife on social media. Trad wives are overpopulated in media attention but represent a much smaller political force than coverage suggests. The women Gaddini actually studied span homeschool moms involved in local politics to Heritage Foundation lawyers to women working at the top echelons of power in Washington DC. They are diehard MAGA supporters and politically engaged — the opposite of passive.
 
•       The Hidden History: Women Built the Conservative Movement Since the 1970s: Gaddini’s archival research into the Reagan administration found women — never household names — who drafted legislation that still shapes policy today, including the squashing of federal child care. Phyllis Schlafly was not an aberration but part of coordinated networks of women who strategised together at national conventions, even as Schlafly took the spotlight while others worked behind the scenes. Books about the Christian right’s formation in the 1980s have largely written women out of the story. Gaddini is writing them back in.
 
•       Conservative Feminism: A More Complicated Relationship Than Expected: Gaddini expected uniform hostility to feminism, the classic Schlafly-era position. Instead she found a more nuanced split: some women reject feminism as toxic; others embrace a self-styled “conservative feminism,” remapping their politics onto a new understanding of women’s empowerment. They reframe issues the left claims as women’s issues — reproductive rights, birth control — as harmful to women, and argue that capitalism itself benefits women by letting families thrive on a single strong salary. A repackaging of feminist language for a conservative, highly gendered worldview.
 
•       If I Perish, I Perish: The Old Testament Shift and the Esther Necklaces: At a 250,000-person rally on the National Mall weeks before the 2024 election, Gaddini saw international attendees — women from South Korea, Brazil, nuns from Nantucket — wearing gold Esther necklaces and chanting the book of Esther’s key line. The theological shift she’s tracking: away from the New Testament and Jesus, toward Old Testament violence, destruction, and imperfect male figures redeemed for God’s purposes — the allegories comparing Trump to King David or Jehu. These women see themselves as warriors, not handmaidens. There is, in their minds, an absolute war going on.
 
•       The Fracture Lines: Iran, MAHA, and the Jesus Selfie: Gaddini’s research captures real fault lines opening in 2026: the Iran strikes alienated Trump voters who wanted America out of foreign wars; MAHA women — anti-vax homeschool moms alongside liberal Bay Area “crunchy” mothers, an unlikely ideological alliance forged through RFK Jr.’s endorsement — are furious about pesticide regulation rollbacks; and Trump’s social media image styled as Jesus (he said it was meant to be a doctor) did not land well even with his base. Nobody Gaddini interviewed thinks Trump is a good Christian. They believe his policies align with their vision of America. That, for them, is what matters.
 
About the Guest
 
Katie Gaddini is a Visiting Scholar at Stanford University, Associate Professor of Sociology at the Social Research Institute, University College London, and a UKRI Research Fellow at Stanford and UCL (2022–2026). She is the author of Esther’s Army: The Christian Women Who Power the American Right (W.W. Norton, June 30, 2026) and The Struggle to Stay: Why Single Evangelical Women Are Leaving the Church. Her writing has appeared in TIME, The Huffington Post, the San Francisco Chronicle, and The Hill. She hosts the Podium and the Pulpit podcast and Substack.
 
References:
 
•       Esther’s Army: The Christian Women Who Power the American Right by Katie Gaddini (W.W. Norton, June 30, 2026).
 
•       Margaret Atwood, The Handmaid’s Tale — referenced at the opening; Atwood previously appeared on KOA.
 
•       Phyllis Schlafly — the 1970s conservative organiser; previously covered on KOA.
 
•       Delano Squires, The Vanishing Black Family — referenced; Heritage Foundation fellow, recent KOA guest.
 
•       Arlie Russell Hochschild, Stolen Pride — referenced as a sociological influence and fellow Bay Area scholar; ...

“My brothers always think: what would Jesus do? And they do that. I think: what would dad do? And I do the opposite.” — Jamison Firestone
 
What do you do if your dad was a multimillionaire conman, crack addict, and owner of New York’s most expensive brothel? If you’re Jamison Firestone, you transform yourself into his antithesis. You go to law school. You go to post-Soviet Russia and establish the country’s first independent foreign law firm. You employ Sergei Magnitsky and befriend Alexei Navalny. You transform yourself into one of Vladimir Putin’s most vocal foreign critics.
 
It’s quite a story. His memoir, Rule of Lies: My Wild Ride Through Chaos, Corruption, and Murder in Putin’s Russia (HarperCollins, June 4, 2026), is both a Russian and American confession. As an old friend of the show, Peter Pomerantsev, says: “This book is NUTS! — in the best possible way.”
 
Yes, Rule of Lies is nuts. But it’s also the best kind of contemporary history. Firestone arrived in Russia in 1991, at the very moment the KGB hardliners rolled tanks into the streets and kidnapped Gorbachev. He watched, within days, as the Russian people confronted the tanks. He saw Yeltsin emerge as the hero, the Soviet Union dissolve, and the promise of a free-market democracy consumed by mafia groups, corrupt officials, and the structural lawlessness of the transition. In 1993, Yeltsin shelled his own congress. In 1999, on New Year’s Eve, he got on television, wished everyone a happy new year, and resigned — handing the country to Vladimir Putin in exchange for a pardon. That, says Firestone, is how we got to Putinism’s kleptocratic rule of lies.
 
Firestone’s Russian memoir is also the Magnitsky story. He employed an accountant called Sergei Magnitsky, who uncovered the largest tax theft in Russian history, was arrested on fabricated charges, and died in pre-trial detention — probably murdered by the same corrupt officials he had exposed. The Magnitsky Act, the Magnitsky sanctions, the Global Magnitsky Justice Campaign — all of it connects back to Jamison Firestone. And, in a way, back to his dad, Richard, the New York City crook who schooled his rebellious son in the value of obeying the law and telling the truth.
 
Five Takeaways
 
•       The Criminal Father Who Taught Him Everything He Needed for Russia: Firestone’s father was a brilliant, charming man who turned out, when Firestone was 15, to be a multimillionaire fraudster defrauding investors and the IRS. Indicted, his father went a little crazy: became a crack addict, bought New York’s most expensive brothel, started hanging out with loan sharks and contract killers. Firestone spent his late high school years learning to talk to contract killers — respectfully, to make them laugh, to say no and not get killed. That skill, he says, turned out to be exactly what he needed in Russia in the 1990s, when everyone was mafia. His father taught him crime doesn’t pay. He believed it.
 
•       Arriving in Russia at the Moment of the Coup: Firestone arrived in Russia in 1991, at the very end of the Gorbachev era, during the opening of the Soviet Union. Within days, KGB hardliners rolled tanks into the streets, kidnapped Gorbachev, and declared the reforms over. Then — the extraordinary thing — the Russian people stood up. The tanks backed down. Gorbachev was released. But the hero of the day was Yeltsin, not Gorbachev. The Soviet Union dissolved within months. What followed was a chaotic, disorderly transition in which democracy got lost: everyone, including Firestone and the US government, was so concentrated on the business opportunities that no one noticed the democratic backsliding until it was too late.
 
•       Yeltsin Shelling His Congress, and Putin’s New Year’s Eve Deal: Two moments stand out in Firestone’s account of Russia’s democratic failure. First: in 1993, Yeltsin resolved a standoff with his own congress by shelling it — the equivalent, Firestone says, now that January 6 has happened, of not unimaginable. Everyone — the US government, Firestone himself — saw it as a triumph for the free market. They didn’t recognise how undemocratic it was. Second: on New Year’s Eve 1999, Yeltsin got on national television, wished everyone a happy new year, and resigned — handing the country to Vladimir Putin in exchange for a pardon. “That’s how we got Putin,” Firestone says. For a pardon.
 
•       Sergei Magnitsky: The Tax Fraud, the Murder, and the Act: Firestone employed Sergei Magnitsky as a tax adviser and auditor. Magnitsky uncovered what was then the largest tax theft in Russian history — committed by the same government officials who had raided and seized a Browder-connected fund. Magnitsky reported it to the authorities. He was arrested on fabricated charges, denied medical treatment in pre-trial detention, and died — murdered, in Firestone’s view, by the officials he had exposed. The Magnitsky Act, which sanctions human rights abusers, grew from that death. The Global Magnitsky Justice Campaign, which Firestone co-founded with Bill Browder, has extended it worldwide.
 
•       Russia’s Precarity and Why Ukraine Must Not Fall: Firestone’s current work is dedicated to seizing Russian state assets for the benefit of Ukraine. His strategic assessment: Russia has burnt through its $600 billion reserve fund under sanctions — it took four years, but it’s done. Russia now owes hundreds of billions of dollars. Putin cannot force a mass mobilisation without becoming deeply unpopular, and even the huge financial incentives he’s offering for enlistment are no longer working. The regime is precarious. But Firestone’s long-term hopes for Russia do not change his short-term argument: if Russia is not stopped in Ukraine, the West will be fighting it when it takes a chunk of Europe that used to be part of the Soviet Union.
 
About the Guest
 
Jamison Firestone established Russia’s first independent foreign law firm, where he worked for eighteen years. He is the author of Rule of Lies: My Wild Ride Through Chaos, Corruption, and Murder in Putin’s Russia (HarperCollins, June 4, 2026). He is co-founder (with Sir William Browder) of the Global Magnitsky Justice Campaign, which created the Magnitsky human rights and anti-corruption sanctions regimes. He also ran the Navalny 35 campaign promoting the sanctioning of corrupt oligarchs and officials identified by Alexei Navalny. He currently works on seizing Russian state assets for the benefit of Ukraine. He lives in London.
 
References:
 
•       Rule of Lies: My Wild Ride Through Chaos, Corruption, and Murder in Putin...