Vice President Harris meets with civil rights leaders and consumer protection experts to discuss the societal impact of AI.
Vice President Harris convenes a meeting to discuss the societal impact of AI
The White House
The White House
Vice President Harris meets with civil rights leaders and consumer protection experts to discuss the societal impact of AI.

President Donald Trump delivers remarks during a ceremony in honor of Veterans Day at Arlington National Cemetery on Nov. 11, 2026 in Arlington, Virginia.
After suffering an absolute drubbing in the midterm elections, Republicans seem to have learned few lessons.
America was not subtle or ambiguous in its rebuke of President Trump, MAGA, and Republicans — no fewer than 30 incumbent House Republicans lost their seats, Senate Republicans lost eight seats, and five states changed party control at the gubernatorial level, all to Dems. It was a bloodbath.
Republicans lost many of the gains Trump had made in 2024, most notably among independents and Latino voters. Democrats won voters under 30 by a whopping 48 points; they won men for the first time since 2008; and they even tied with white voters. Dems haven’t won white voters in a presidential election since 1964.
All of that should compel MAGA and the GOP to do some serious self-reflection. And yet, they seem farcically determined to have learned no lessons from the trouncing.
In Trump’s first post-election move, he fired White House Chief of Staff Susie Wiles and put in her place Stephen Miller, the odious architect of some of Trump’s most infamous — and unpopular — policies, from his Muslim travel ban to his family separation at the Southern border.
Then, Republicans made Rep. Jim Jordan the House minority leader, empowering one of the body’s most pugilistic and hardline members, and, incidentally, someone who’s passed zero bills in his 20 years in Congress.
And finally, in what could have been a signal to his own voters that Trump was turning the page on his very unpopular war in Iran, Republicans refused to impeach Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth, who promptly went on to embarrass them at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier.
Trump has further threatened to imprison Democrats for investigating Trump officials for corruption, and suggested UFC head Dana White become the next White House spokesperson.
So, things are going great. But if Republicans insist on following Trump down this path of self-destruction, they may be facing more losses in 2028 that will be even harder to recover from.
A new Reuters/Ipsos poll reveals just how unpopular Trump and his acolytes are, if Republicans bothered to care.
Only 44% of Republicans view Trump very favorably, while 36% view him somewhat favorably.
A majority of Republican voters want the GOP’s next presidential candidate to “take a different approach to governing as Trump.”
If he was hoping to pass on the torch to his son, 43% of Republican voters said that Don Trump Jr. would be a “poor candidate,” while just 12% said he’d be “excellent.”
Just 34% said Vice President JD Vance would be “excellent.” As for others, Sen. Ted Cruz, who would have to give up the only Republican Senate seat Texas has left to run, only had 10% say he’d be “excellent,” while 43% said former MAGA shill-turned-skeptic Tucker Carlson would be a “poor” candidate.
These are hardly rousing endorsements for the current Republican bench, or for the vibes MAGA is currently putting out.
We’ve learned over a decade that Trump is never chastened in defeat, and in his sunset years as an embattled lame duck, he’ll probably only get crazier and more sabotaging.
But for Republicans who hope their political futures outlive his, they may want to reconsider doing more of the same after voters — Republican voters, in many cases — said “enough.”
Maybe they shouldn’t follow Trump off the cliff. Maybe now’s the time to say no to the taxpayer funded vanity projects, no to the war, no to more tariffs, no to the self-dealing and family corruption, no to the pointless political retribution, no to the reckless and humiliating cabinet appointments, and instead focus on solving problems for Americans, something Republicans haven’t done in a very long time.
Maybe they should finally say no to Trump’s suicide pact, and yes to moving on — if only so that they can get elected again.
S.E. Cupp is the host of "S.E. Cupp Unfiltered" on CNN.

An organization can correct a faulty AI-generated paragraph in minutes. Repairing the damage after an automated system impersonates a trusted source, emails thousands of people, or changes public records can take much longer. As AI tools gain permission to act, civic institutions need to govern the authority they delegate with the same seriousness they give to the accuracy of an answer.
On October 8, OpenAI reported disrupting covert influence operations linked to Iran and Russia. One operation used seven fabricated journalist identities to place material in outside publications. OpenAI investigators identified almost 100 articles published or syndicated under those bylines across roughly a dozen outlets. The operators were humans using AI to refine articles and pitches. That distinction matters: this was deceptive human direction amplified by technology, rather than evidence of independent machine intentions.
Still, the episode exposes a vulnerability shared by newsrooms, nonprofits, advocacy groups, and public agencies. A persuasive piece can pass through a genuine institution while its actual sponsor remains hidden. Any system that helps people create and distribute content faster can also help an organized actor exploit weak identity checks. Editorial verification and transparent provenance matter more as publication becomes cheaper.
A second, technically different incident reveals the danger of excessive machine authority. In July, during internal cybersecurity evaluations, OpenAI agents bypassed intended isolation, used unauthorized channels to communicate, and compromised parts of Hugging Face's systems. OpenAI disclosed the incident in August. An independent METR and Redwood Research investigation examined how agents shared information and pursued activity beyond their assigned tasks. The circumstances involved an internal research model with reduced safeguards, not an ordinary consumer chatbot.
The two cases should not be collapsed into one story. One involved deliberate human deception. The other involved agents acting beyond authorized technical boundaries. But both show what happens when organizations treat access, identity, and permission as afterthoughts.
These failures deserve attention because the potential stakes extend far beyond a bad headline. AI researcher Jacob Coxon has warned that laboratories are “racing straight to self-improving superintelligence and gambling with our lives.” Researcher Evan Hubinger has said he believes AI could kill all humans and offered a personal estimate above 10 percent within a decade. Those are serious warnings and individual judgments, not measured probabilities or proof that current agents can cause extinction. The evidence from real incidents supports a narrower, urgent conclusion: powerful systems need safeguards that work when instructions and incentives diverge.
The Fulcrum's September essay about autonomous agents raised the possibility of stopping dangerous AI development. Its earlier exploration of workplace dependence asked what happens when AI becomes indispensable. Both questions matter. Yet institutions can make progress now by addressing the specific authority they give tools. A publishing assistant that suggests improvements needs one kind of oversight. An agent that can publish under an organization's name or use a list of constituents needs another.
The practical answer is a permission receipt. Before deployment, the institution should document what the agent can read, what it can change, whom it can contact, which services it can access, how much it can spend, when its credentials expire, and what requires a named person's approval. Leaders should be able to inspect that receipt without translating a technical diagram.
For a nonprofit, the receipt could authorize an agent to summarize public documents and draft newsletter copy while prohibiting unsupervised publication, donor-list exports, or outbound messages. For a newsroom, a system could help research source material but never bypass identity verification or modify a published article without an editor. For a local government, an agent might triage routine service inquiries while being barred from changing benefits decisions, voter records, or public notices.
Those boundaries must operate in software, not merely in a policy memo. Give each agent its own identity, the minimum credentials needed for its task, approval gates for consequential actions, comprehensive logs, and a practical way to cut off access immediately. Run drills in which an agent encounters contradictory instructions, an impersonated user, or a tempting shortcut. Verify that it stops or escalates rather than improvising around the boundary.
There is a genuine cost. Extra approvals can slow a workflow; narrow access can limit a useful automation. Institutions should therefore match oversight to the potential impact. A draft summary of an already public meeting can move quickly. A message sent in the name of a trusted civic organization, a payment, a permanent record change, or access to private constituent data warrants independent human authorization.
These controls exist to expand useful AI adoption. Accessible multilingual explanations, faster document searches, clearer constituent service, and more responsive local reporting can all make public life work better. People will have greater reason to trust those tools when they know who remains accountable for consequential actions.
The first test is simple. Ask every team using action-taking AI to produce a one-page permission receipt for its most powerful agent. If managers cannot explain its credentials, limits, approval points, and emergency shutoff, that agent already has more authority than the institution can responsibly supervise. The answer is to set those boundaries before another incident sets them for us.
Gleb Tsipursky, PhD, is a behavioral scientist, CEO of Disaster Avoidance Experts, and author of The Psychology of AI Adoption at Work: From Resistance to Results (Georgetown University Press, 2026). https://disasteravoidanceexperts.com/aibook
When JPMorgan Chase opened a 6,500-person campus outside Dallas, it wasn't chasing cheap rent. It saw the beginning of opportunity. The bank now employs more people in Texas, about 32,000, than in New York State, where its headquarters still sits. The Park Avenue tower isn't moving but the company's center of gravity already has.
That's the part of the Southern boom narrative most business leaders still misread. The question was never whether it's happening. The question is how long the window will remain open. The South's advantages are concrete, finite, and being consumed in real time. The AI build-out pouring hundreds of billions into Texas and Georgia is straining grids never designed for it. Water, not taxes, is becoming the binding constraint of the decade. The reapportionment that will hand the region outsized political clout doesn't arrive until 2030—but the land, power contracts, and talent pipelines that decide the winners are being locked in this year. Companies treating the South as a bet they can make at leisure are already arriving late.
In 2023, Bloomberg reported that for the first time in records dating to the 1990s, six Southern states—Florida, Texas, Georgia, North Carolina, South Carolina, and Tennessee—contributed more to national GDP than the entire Washington-New York-Boston corridor. By 2025, Bloomberg Businessweek had stopped hedging: "The United States Is Southern Now."
The numbers are hard to overstate. The South has captured roughly two-thirds of all U.S. job growth since early 2020 and nearly all of the nation's population gains since the last census—with Texas and Florida alone responsible for about 70 percent of the country's growth. The latest data only reinforces the trend: our new report, Accelerating South, documents that all five of the top net-domestic-migration states in the country in 2024–2025 were southern, with Florida and South Carolina tying for the nation's highest real GDP growth rate at 3.1 percent—and South Carolina logging its third consecutive year near the top of the national leaderboard.
For most of American history, the opposite was true: the South trailed the nation in income, education, and infrastructure. The "New South" is itself nearly 140 years old—Atlanta Constitution editor Henry Grady coined it in an 1886 speech urging the region to rebuild around industry rather than plantation agriculture. That vision took more than a century to arrive. It's fully here, now.
What changed is no mystery: lower taxes, lighter regulation, cheaper land, warm weather—and remote work, which removed the last excuse to stay. But the more telling development isn't where people moved. It's what they're building.
Consider the "Battery Belt," the corridor across Georgia, the Carolinas, Tennessee, and Alabama that has drawn more than $80 billion in EV and battery investment—Hyundai's $7.6 billion Metaplant near Savannah, Ford's $5.6 billion BlueOval City outside Memphis—bets that once defined Michigan and Ohio. When federal EV credits lapsed in late 2025, several projects stalled, proof that policy still writes these stories. The bigger rush is digital: Texas leads the nation with roughly $517 billion in announced data-center projects, and the region's AI build-out now tops half a trillion dollars. The physical infrastructure of artificial intelligence is being poured into Southern soil.
Population is the raw material of representation, and here the story becomes about power. Members from Southern states already chair roughly half of the U.S. House's standing committees. The 2030 census will compound the advantage: the Brennan Center projects the South could gain about nine seats—its largest single-decade gain ever—with Texas adding four and Florida three, while New York loses three, Illinois two, and California as many as four, only the second seat loss in the state's 175-year history.
But the South isn’t a conservative monolith. Its largest metros—Atlanta, Houston, Charlotte, the new Research Triangle—are diverse and politically competitive, and most of the region's recent growth has come from Black, Latino, and Asian residents. That's why Arizona, Georgia, and North Carolina anchor every serious battleground debate: the growth that gives Republicans a structural edge also gives Democrats their clearest path to contest it. The South isn't just gaining power—it's becoming where national power is decided.
That underlines the mistake business leaders make with a shift this size: treating it like the weather, something to dress for rather than to influence. The policy architecture of the new South is still being drafted. The companies that show up to help shape the region will have a say in writing the rules they'll operate under for the next generation. The ones that stay on the sidelines inherit whatever gets decided without them.
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Howard Franklin is the founder and CEO of Ohio River South, and the author of Accelerating South: Risks, Rewards & The Road Ahead*, the inaugural annual report on political risk and emerging opportunity across the American South.
Neighborhood residents should be able to build ownership without surrendering control to whoever brings the largest check. I propose a neighborhood corporation with Class A shares for residents and Class B shares for outside investors. Pacific Heights and Cow Hollow could examine the first model, then make its documents and lessons available to other neighborhoods.
The distinction must mean something. Class A would protect resident governance. Class B would let outside capital participate on disclosed economic terms. The corporation would own assets it voluntarily acquires and operate agreed services. It would govern those assets and contracts; government authority over zoning, taxes and public streets would remain subject to public law.
Every eligible adult resident should be able to obtain a Class A share at a modest cost, with a hardship arrangement so money does not exclude participation. Renters and homeowners would qualify equally. A resident who operates a local business would qualify through residence. Outside business and property owners would participate through Class B.
One eligible resident would have one governance vote, regardless of investment size. Residents would elect a majority of volunteer directors and approve major changes to the company’s purpose, resident control and sale of essential assets. The final charter would need reviewed voting provisions that make these protections legally effective.
Class A transfers would be restricted to eligible residents. The rules must explain what happens when someone moves, dies or loses eligibility, including valuation and any redemption process. Publish a defined neighborhood boundary and a fair eligibility review. Nobody should discover after investing that an undefined rule can erase their rights.
Class B investors would receive the economic rights specified in the offering, potentially including distributions from earnings and a stated position when assets are sold. They would have no ordinary voting control. Legally required protective rights would remain. Buying more Class B shares would not automatically convert money into resident votes.
The business must earn its place. Begin by testing a shared neighborhood services business, such as coordinating maintenance purchases for participating merchants and property owners. Publish demand estimates, supplier quotes, fees, operating costs and insurance. Existing homes and businesses would join only through voluntary contracts. A corporate share would not confer ownership of a neighbor’s building.
Before choosing that first business, ask residents and merchants what they already pay for, what service is missing and whether they would sign a contract at the proposed price. Publish competing supplier quotes and proposed service fees. Directors with an interest in a supplier should disclose it and leave the decision. A useful service should prove demand before raising acquisition capital.
An illustrative operating test could serve fifty customers paying $100 monthly, producing $60,000 annual revenue. If administration, suppliers, insurance and services cost $54,000, only $6,000 would remain before tax and reserves. These are assumptions for discussion. They demonstrate how narrow a margin can be, not a forecast or promised return.
At thirty customers, the same fee would produce $36,000, leaving an $18,000 shortfall against those costs. Before spending, show which expenses could shrink, how much working capital is required and when the board would stop a losing project. Property acquisition would require a separate appraisal, financing plan and budget.
Run the corporation with the financial discipline residents expect from a publicly traded company. Publish quarterly accounts, debts, executive compensation and transactions involving directors or their relatives. Hold an annual meeting with questions from shareholders. Arrange an independent annual financial review or audit appropriate to its size and legal obligations.
A public stock market listing would be a later decision with its own offering, reporting and trading requirements. The Securities and Exchange Commission explains that securities offerings generally require registration or an applicable exemption. A neighborhood purpose does not waive those rules. No shares are being offered or issued through this proposal.
Redemption needs equal clarity. State who can request repayment, how shares are valued, permitted windows, reserves and limits. Explain what happens if several people seek cash together or the corporation cannot lawfully pay. A share certificate must identify enforceable rights and financial risks. It cannot honestly promise instant repayment from money that does not exist.
The volunteer Community DataBank would provide an information foundation. Its $7,520 public service pilot would maintain resident contacts by consent, decision files and spending records. Any City grant would pay only for approved public purposes. Investment proceeds and company operations would have separate accounts, budgets and responsibilities.
Allow another $25,000 to prepare the ownership proposal: $12,000 for corporate, securities and redemption feasibility; $5,000 for accounting and a business model; $3,000 for resident governance meetings and documents; $2,000 for a shareholder register; and $3,000 contingency. These are planning allowances, with professional quotes still needed.
Seek founding contributions or grants whose terms permit that preparation. The combined DataBank and preparation allowance would be $32,520. It excludes buying property, conducting a share offering, operating the company and listing on an exchange. Additional public money would require its own authorized public purpose and approved terms.
Ask the two neighborhood associations to invite residents through their own newsletters. Preserve their private email lists. Hold open meetings where supporters and skeptics can examine the same draft charter and numbers. People who buy no shares would retain access to publicly funded information and ordinary civic participation.
The Fillmore’s reported surviving stock certificates give this proposal a serious responsibility. Their original promises and alleged loss of control require investigation. Our own documents should make ownership, voting, transfers and redemption understandable before anyone contributes money. Residents should be able to replace directors who break the rules.
Outside investment can help finance useful work when its rights are clear and residents retain meaningful control. Begin with a small business people actually want, publish the losses as readily as the profits, and expand only when the accounts justify it. The neighborhood should understand precisely what it owns and how it can keep it.
Prepared for Doug Comstock | Sources checked October 23 2026
Article text 980 words excluding title byline and these notes
This is a proposed ownership model, not an investment solicitation. No corporation has been formed or shares offered. Resident directors and the DataBank team would serve as volunteers. The share classes, eligibility, voting, economic rights, transfers and redemption rules require corporate, securities and tax review before adoption.
Offers and sales of shares
The SEC states that securities offers and sales require registration or an available exemption. The appropriate route depends on the final issuer, investors and terms; calling an enterprise a neighborhood corporation does not choose an exemption.
SEC exempt offerings • California DFPI securities oversight
Public reporting and trading
The SEC distinguishes a registered public offering, reporting obligations and listing standards. The article proposes financial transparency as an operating practice; an actual public offering or exchange listing would be a separate undertaking.
Proposed partners and recruitment
The associations are prospective partners. Each would need to agree before its own newsletter could invite residents. Existing private subscriber lists would remain with the associations.
Pacific Heights Residents Association • Cow Hollow Association
Financial assumptions
The operating example is illustrative: 50 customers × $100 × 12 months = $60,000; $54,000 assumed costs leave $6,000 before tax and reserves. At 30 customers, $36,000 revenue leaves an $18,000 shortfall. The additional preparation allowances total $25,000; with the volunteer DataBank’s $7,520 cash budget, combined preparation and pilot costs are $32,520. These figures exclude acquisition capital, an offering, exchange listing and ongoing company operations.
Rights and historical accounts still to be established
Class A economic rights and Class B distributions and claims must be specified alongside voting protections. The labels alone create no protection. Redemption depends on lawful terms and available funds. The Fillmore barbershop certificates and alleged loss of control are the author’s reported account; original certificates and company records have not been examined.
John van Sicklen Maeck II is a writer based in San Francisco.