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Bad Bunny performs on stage during the Debí Tirar Más Fotos world tour at Estadio GNP Seguros on December 11, 2025 in Mexico City, Mexico.
(Photo by Emma McIntyre/Getty Images)
Bad Bunny Super Bowl Clash Deepens America’s Cultural Divide
Jan 31, 2026
On Monday, January 26th, I published a column in the Fulcrum called Bad Bunny’s Super Bowl Halftime Show Sparks National Controversy As Trump Announces Boycott. At the time, I believed I had covered the entire political and cultural storm around Bad Bunny’s upcoming Super Bowl performance.
I was mistaken. In the days since, the reaction has only grown stronger, and something deeper has become clear. This is no longer just a debate about a halftime show. It is turning into a question of who belongs in America’s cultural imagination.
On October 7th, when I first wrote about Bad Bunny missing from U.S. tour dates and the early rallies forming around him, I sensed the moment was about more than music. I did not realize how quickly it would become a stand-in for the country’s unresolved issues with identity, language, immigration, and power. The rapid escalation of this story, from ICE threats to presidential criticism, shows how fragile social and cultural unity in America has become.
In just the last few days alone, the rhetoric has become more intense.. President Trump has repeated his now‑familiar line, “I’m anti‑them” — in interviews highlighted by the New York Post and Newsweek, ensuring the controversy stays in the bloodstream of the news cycle. On the right, MAGA commentators on platforms like Fox News, Breitbart, and Turning Point USA’s “TPUSA Live” have increased their outrage over rumors that Bad Bunny may perform in a dress, framing it as an assault on “traditional America.” Conservative influencers such as Danica Patrick, Charlie Kirk, and Benny Johnson have continued to insist that Spanish‑language music is “un‑American,” a theme amplified across X/Twitter and covered by outlets including Rolling Stone and The Daily Beast, despite the historical fact that Spanish predates English on this continent by centuries.
What we are witnessing is not simply disagreement. It is a widening fracture in America over what counts as American culture and who gets to define it.
The reaction to Bad Bunny’s performance does not exist in isolation. It builds on decades of debate about what behavior and culture are acceptable. Americans now often live in separate media worlds, celebrate different heroes, and see the same events in completely different ways.
The Super Bowl used to be one of the last shared cultural spaces in American life. Now, it is being drawn into the same divisions that affect so much else.
The fact that a halftime show can lead to a presidential boycott tells us something important. We are no longer just arguing about policies. We are fighting over symbols, over language, and over who gets to stand on the biggest stage in the country and say, “This is America, too.”
Negative comments from President Trump and his supporters have sparked a strong response from people who see Bad Bunny’s Super Bowl performance as a moment of cultural inclusion and acceptance. Latino civic groups are organizing watch parties focused on cultural celebration rather than football. Young fans see Bad Bunny’s performance as a chance for visibility, an opportunity to see themselves on a stage that has often left them out. Even betting markets are involved, giving odds on whether Bad Bunny will mention Trump. This shows how deeply politics has become part of our cultural events.
This is the paradox of the moment. The more some people try to narrow the definition of American identity, the more others push to expand it.
The cultural divide we see is not just about Bad Bunny. It is about the different visions Americans have for themselves and their country. One vision imagines a nation with a single language, a single cultural background, and a single way of life. The other sees America as a mosaic—multilingual, creative, always changing, and sometimes messy.
The Super Bowl is now the place where these two visions meet. The question is no longer just whether Bad Bunny will put on a great show. It is whether we, as a nation, are ready to face the deeper truth his presence shows us: America is changing, and the struggle over who belongs is not over.
The rallies, backlash, boycotts, and celebrations are all part of the same national conversation about identity and belonging. They remind us that entertainment has a big role in shaping our shared future.
As Springsteen once said, let us speak out against authoritarianism and let freedom be heard. But maybe this moment asks for something more—the courage to imagine an America big enough for all of us.
The Super Bowl stage is ready. The world is watching.
David Nevins is the publisher of The Fulcrum and co-founder and board chairman of the Bridge Alliance Education Fund.
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North Carolina's Project Kitty Hawk, an online program-management system built by the government, has been beset by difficulties and slow to grow despite good intentions.
Getty Images, Igor Suka
Online Learning Works Best When Markets Lead, Not Governments. Project Kitty Hawk Shows Why.
Jan 30, 2026
North Carolina’s Project Kitty Hawk is a grand experiment. Can a government entity build an online program-management system that competes with private providers? With $97 million in taxpayer funding, the initiative seemed promising. But, despite good intentions, the project has been beset by difficulties and has been slow to grow.
A state-chartered, university-affiliated online program manager may sound visionary, but in practice, it’s expensive, inefficient, and less adaptable than private solutions. In a new report for the James G. Martin Center for Academic Renewal, I examined the experience of Project Kitty Hawk and argued that online education needs less government and more free markets.
In many ways, Project Kitty Hawk mirrors private online program managers (OPMs). However, it differs in two fundamental ways. First, because it’s a public university affiliate, it must follow all the governance rules applicable to state entities. This creates additional complexity not found in the private sector; overlapping boards and bureaucratic layers significantly slowed Project Kitty Hawk’s development. Before PKH could launch a single program, it needed approvals from the PKH board, the UNC System Office, and the partnering campus—all operating on different calendars and according to different priorities.
More importantly, Project Kitty Hawk receives government money. Its $97m in start-up funding was provided by North Carolina taxpayers. Many of these silent “shareholders” will neither enroll in courses nor see any direct monetary return on their “investment.” Why ask taxpayers to foot start-up costs at all when expenses can be resolved through provider partnerships? Creating state-run programs requires taxpayers to assume 100 percent of the downside risk while realizing none of the upside. In contrast, private OPMs bear both risk and cost.
To its credit, going forward, Project Kitty Hawk will succeed or fail based on the value of the services it provides to North Carolina’s universities, which are not required to choose PKH as a vendor. But it has already been forced to reduce its program and revenue projections due to uncertainty about possible new regulations on revenue-sharing.
When Project Kitty Hawk moved from a revenue-sharing to a fee-for-service model in 2024, it decreased its projections for both program offerings (from 100 to 56 by 2028) and enrollments (from 31,000 to 14,800 by 2028). At the time, PKH stated that changing its model necessarily reduced its program pipeline. One university that had planned to use PKH as a partner pulled out because switching to fee-for-service would cause projected revenue losses in the first few years of operation.
Innovation thrives when universities can choose partners and pay only for results. Truly private revenue-sharing and fee-for-service models allow campuses to expand online offerings without building internal bureaucracies or footing the bill for start-up costs. This free-market competition decreases expenditures, improves student outcomes, and fosters a wide variety in program offerings.
Private OPMs are already offering such services. Yes, there have been bad actors, as there are in any market. But, on the whole, these services allow universities to offer affordable, accessible courses and to reach students that they wouldn’t otherwise. Private education-technology firms, such as Risepoint, 2U, and ed2go, have been especially valuable to small colleges and universities that lack the resources to build robust in-house online offerings. Moreover, these firms operate with zero taxpayer startup costs and rapid scalability. Many North Carolina colleges and universities, including UNC-Chapel Hill, UNC Greensboro, NC Central University, Winston-Salem State University, East Carolina University, and Central Carolina Community College, already use public-private partnerships to deliver online courses. A centralized, state-chartered platform can’t offer the same benefits.
But the current regulatory environment slows down even the private sector. Concerns about the possibility of new regulations have threatened providers’ models that provide student acquisition, retention support, technology deployment, and curriculum innovation in return for a share of tuition revenue.
As Workforce Pell is implemented, broadening the universe for short-term and career coursework, adult learners will demand even more online courses. Colleges will need to rapidly address access and the scalability of offerings. Congress should facilitate colleges using public-private partnerships to meet these needs by codifying the 2011 “bundled services” guidance. This reform would give universities certainty about revenue-share agreements going forward.
At the same time, state governments should encourage public institutions to contract with affordable, efficient private providers for online course marketing, recruitment, and instructional design, and allow them to succeed or fail based on student outcomes. This will be especially important for community colleges as they work to meet new demand created by Workforce Pell funding.
Other states should learn from North Carolina’s experiment; don’t gamble with taxpayer capital when private firms already offer scalable solutions. Students, not bureaucracies, should be the beneficiaries of online-education innovation.
Jenna Robinson is president of the James G. Martin Center for Academic Renewal.
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"The promise of AI-powered tools—from personalized health monitoring to adaptive educational support—depends on access to quality data," writes Kevin Frazier.
Prapass Pulsub/Getty Images
Your Data, Your Choice: Why Americans Need the Right to Share
Jan 30, 2026
Outdated, albeit well-intentioned data privacy laws create the risk that many Americans will miss out on proven ways in which AI can improve their quality of life. Thanks to advances in AI, we possess incredible opportunities to use our personal information to aid the development of new tools that can lead to better health care, education, and economic advancement. Yet, HIPAA (the Health Information Portability and Accountability Act), FERPA (The Family Educational Rights and Privacy Act), and a smattering of other state and federal laws complicate the ability of Americans to do just that.
The result is a system that claims to protect our privacy interests while actually denying us meaningful control over our data and, by extension, our well-being in the Digital Age.
The promise of AI-powered tools—from personalized health monitoring to adaptive educational support—depends on access to quality data. But our current legal framework, built on distrust of both corporations and skepticism of individual judgment, creates friction to the exchanges that could benefit us most.
This isn't just a technical problem. It's creating what I call an “AI abyss”—think of it as a subset of the larger Digital Divide—a widening gap between those who can navigate privacy restrictions to access cutting-edge AI services and those who cannot. Wealthy Americans already pay premium prices for AI-enhanced health monitoring and personalized care. Meanwhile, more than 100 million Americans lack a usual source of primary care, and privacy laws enacted decades ago make it nearly impossible for community health clinics to leverage AI tools that could transform care delivery.
Consider a hypothetical rural community, where a doctor at the local clinic proposed using AI to develop tailored health interventions based on aggregated clinic data and wearable device information. The community was enthusiastic—until a vocal lawyer claimed that state law required handwritten authorization from each patient, with explicit descriptions of every potential data use. The understaffed clinic couldn't manage the paperwork burden. The project died. Meanwhile, imagine a nearby affluent community that hires a law firm to help them create privately-operated “Health Data Clubs,” which aggregate member health data to then offer AI-driven recommendations.
This pattern repeats across domains in very real ways. Fewer than 15 percent of children in poverty who need mental health support receive care, yet developing reliable AI therapy tools requires exactly the kind of sensitive data that privacy laws most tightly restrict. During the pandemic, 20 percent of wealthy parents hired personal tutors; only 8 percent of low-income parents could afford them. Had AI tutors trained on individual learning patterns been available at that time, the technology could have narrowed that gap, but that also presumes that educational privacy laws didn't make such data sharing prohibitively complex. The unfortunate irony is that the AI applications with the greatest potential to revive and spread the American Dream are precisely those requiring the most legally protected information.
Incremental amendments to dozens of privacy statutes won't solve this problem. We need a different approach: a federal “right to share” that allows Americans to opt out of state privacy restrictions when they choose. To be clear, the aim is not to inhibit the ability of any individual to make use of as many privacy protections as they see fit. The core aim is instead to recognize that an individual’s data is more valuable than ever, which suggests that individuals should have more control over that data. Again, those who prefer current restrictions would remain fully covered. But those willing to share their data for purposes they value—whether joining health cooperatives or participating in educational research—would have that freedom.
The constitutional authority for such a right is clear. Commercial data exchange via the Internet constitutes interstate commerce, well within Congress's power to regulate. The implementation mechanism, however, may not be so straightforward. In theory, this right could operate in a manner similar to privacy notices and cookie disclosures. Americans could opt out of restrictive state laws through a simple online process, with reasonable opportunities to opt back in. How best to design and stand up this effort warrants more attention from interdisciplinary stakeholders. The Federal Trade Commission, which already enforces privacy policies, could handle complaints surrounding a failure to adhere to an individual’s expressed preferences.
Of course, no right is absolute. A right to share cannot extend to information directly implicating others' privacy—a family member's genetic data, for instance. Congress could establish narrow, content-neutral limits modeled on existing exceptions to free expression.
The deeper principle here is informational self-determination. Just as the First Amendment protects our right to speak and listen, we should have the right to disclose or withhold our own information. Both rest on the same constitutional value: personal autonomy as a safeguard of democratic life. Nearly 80 percent of Americans trust themselves to make the right decisions about their personal information. Our laws should reflect that trust rather than contradict it.Kevin Frazier is a Senior Fellow at the Abundance Institute and directs the AI Innovation and Law Program at the University of Texas School of Law
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Becky Pepper-Jackson and her mother, Heather Jackson, stand in front of the Supreme Court in Washington, D.C.
Courtesy of Lambda Legal
The trans athletes at the center of Supreme Court cases don’t fit conservative stereotypes
Jan 30, 2026
Conservatives have increasingly argued that transgender women and girls have an unfair advantage in sports, that their hormone levels make them stronger and faster. And for that reason, they say, trans women should be banned from competition.
But Lindsay Hecox wasn’t faster. She tried out for her track and field team at Boise State University and didn’t make the cut. A 2020 Idaho bill banned her from a club team, anyway.
Becky Pepper-Jackson wasn’t necessarily hormonally different from other girls. The 15-year-old West Virginia student transitioned before ever undergoing male puberty. A state ban on transgender athletes is keeping her from playing on her high school’s track team.
Both cases — Little v. Hecox and West Virginia v. B.P.J — will be in the spotlight Tuesday, when the American Civil Liberties Union (ACLU) and Lambda Legal will argue to the Supreme Court that the states violated the girls’ rights by banning them from competition.
“It just shows the breadth of these laws,” said Sruti Swaminathan, who is representing Hecox as a senior staff attorney at the ACLU. “It’s not just about trophies and competitions. It’s even just the mere presence of trans girls on girls teams that’s bothering these states and these advocates on the other side.”
It’s possible that the cases will have big implications for transgender athletes and trans people more broadly — but the ruling may well be limited to the two athletes. Their lawyers will argue that trans athletes in general don’t have an unfair advantage in sports, they said. But they plan to really focus on just Pepper-Jackson and Hecox, whose cases so clearly fall outside conservative stereotypes about transgender athletes.
“We’re not conceding that somebody that has gone through puberty shouldn’t be able to participate,” said Sasha Buchert, who is representing Pepper-Jackson as a senior attorney at Lambda Legal. “We’re just saying, in this particular case involving this particular athlete, the only athlete in West Virginia that’s a transgender girl … that there isn’t an adequate justification for it.”
The realities of trans women in sports
It’s unknown how many trans athletes are competing in grade schools, college or even professional sports, but advocates insist that the numbers represent a tiny fraction of competitors. NCAA President Charlie Baker in 2024 stated that of the 500,000 college athletes in the country, openly trans people accounted for “less than 10” athletes total.
Transgender women have competed in sports for decades, although their numbers are small. Scientific research on trans participation in sports is also limited, but studies thus far have not shown any overall physical advantage for trans women over their cisgender peers after medical transition.
Four recent studies measured physical differences between athletes including hand grip strength and countermovement jump, which measures lower body strength, and found that trans and cisgender women athletes performed similarly. A 2021 study published in the Journal Sports Medicine found no basis in existing research for banning trans women from sports. A 2024 study funded by the International Olympic Committee published in the British Journal of Sports Medicine concluded that transgender women likely had several physical disadvantages compared with their cisgender peers.
But transgender advocates have also argued that fixating on overall physical differences between transgender and cisgender women misses the point. All athletes are born with advantages, they argue, including class, geography, natural strength and other variables. The obsession with bodies denies transgender women their humanity and defaults to cisgender viewpoints, say advocates.
The legal implications of a loss
The question in front of the Supreme Court is whether the state bans on trans athletes violate Title IX or the equal protection clause of the Constitution.
Because both laws touch on other areas of life, advocates have fretted that a ruling against Hecox and Pepper-Jackson could set a precedent with potential serious consequences for LGBTQ+ freedoms beyond sports.
“The goal of this [anti-trans sports] campaign is not only dividing us against one another, it’s to secure a sweeping legal precedent that endangers transgender people (and other people, including gay, lesbian and bisexual people, and all women) across our lives, not just in sports,” said the ACLU in an explainer. “Depending on the precise language of the court’s ruling, it could likewise implicate our fight for equality in those contexts and potentially many more, like our access to health care and our safety while incarcerated.”
But Ezra Ishmael Young, a lawyer and constitutional law professor in New York, said such a devastating outcome for queer people is highly unlikely given the scope of the legal questions in the case.
“Even if trans people lost this case, it would only really be a loss in those two narrow contexts. It wouldn’t have any bearing on, for instance, what the International Olympic Committee does, or what the WNBA does, or what the NBA does,” Young said.
Young said trans rights will continue to default to state law because the question before the court focuses on those, not a national ban.
“The states that were pro-trans are still pro-trans,” he said. “The states that are not pro -trans, are not pro-trans.”
In other words, a loss might look like the scenario the country currently has, with many states banning trans athletes from competing in their lived genders, while others welcome them. Young believes that the handful of trans athletes attending college would opt for friendly states, if possible.
‘Think about like during the era of segregation, Jackie Robinson went to UCLA because they weren’t segregated,” Young said. “That’s how athletes have always navigated this nonsense.”
In the event of a draw
Even with a 6-3 conservative majority Supreme Court, a loss for Hecox and Pepper-Jackson is not guaranteed, according to experts. It’s not just that the girls have unique stories that set the cases apart. Lawyers for both sides have signaled that the cases may not have all the makings of a blockbuster Supreme Court case because they are limited in scope and foundationally weak.
Young points out that Idaho’s sports ban was passed in 2020 at the height of the COVID-19 pandemic when other state houses were shuttering. The virus would kill more than 5,400 people in the state.
“That’s what even President Trump was directing, this is an extreme emergency, we have to take precautions,” said Young. Idaho called a special session to deal with a health emergency.
“The health emergency was trans women and girls playing sports hypothetically, not an actual global pandemic that had already been declared,” Young said. “The context matters. … It’s based upon untruths.”
Young thinks that premise weakens the states’ legal arguments.
Further, the state of Idaho added new evidence to its Supreme Court briefs that was not heard in lower courts, something generally forbidden by the Supreme Court. The move could prove problematic for Idaho and West Virginia, Young said.
“It’s also confusing, because these cases only apply to two individual students,” Swaminathan said. “The relief sought is only on these individual students’ behalf. It’s not statewide relief.”
The ACLU and Lambda Legal sued on behalf of Hecox and Pepper-Jackson alone, not all transgender people throughout the state or even the nation. Further, Hecox became so distressed by the media attention from the case that she asked the court to drop her case altogether. Hecox said she would no longer play sports.
Young said it is possible that the court will find the cases moot or no longer relevant as the plaintiffs age out of the respective group sports.
Hope for a win
Still Lambda Legal and the ACLU say they have a strong case to make before the nation. Lawyers say that once the public is introduced to the women through oral arguments, transgender athletes will have a face. It will be harder to discriminate against them.
“I would like to think that the American public will get a chance to meet Becky,” Buchert said, adding that she recently met Pepper-Jackson and her mom for the first time and watched her throw the discus. Buchert saw the joy it brought her young client. She feels that if other people learn that through court testimony and media interviews, it will be harder to demonize her.
“She’s just such a wonderful kid, just an absolute champ, has gotten so much out of sports — and it’s been so good for her — and is turning into this wonderful adult.”
The trans athletes at the center of Supreme Court cases don’t fit conservative stereotypes was originally published by The 19th and is republished with permission.
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