The Red Jackal

A field report from America’s most self-congratulatory experiment.

Inspired by the touching tale of Jennifer Siebel Newsom taking her children to Alabama to learn about racism, I felt moved to follow her example. But instead of Alabama, I chose a destination far more educational: California — the state that lectures the rest of the country on how to live while demonstrating none of it in practice.  If you want to show your children how performative governance thrives, why not go straight to the source.  So, I quit my job, packed the car, and drove my family straight into the heart of the nation’s most celebrated dysfunction.

Our first stop was the state’s legendary public-sector efficiency. Only here can a governor and a single-party supermajority deploy taxpayer dollars with such confidence that accountability becomes almost optional. Fraud? Waste? According to estimates, merely tens of billions have evaporated — a rounding error in the grand experiment of enlightened administration.

The homeless crisis was equally inspiring. After billions invested, we were assured the streets would be clear. And they were — clear of solutions. The people we saw weren’t “homeless”; they were “expressing their truth,” a phrase that perfectly captures the state’s philosophical approach to public order.

Elections were another highlight. While other states count votes in hours, California prefers a slow-drip, artisanal approach. Why finish in a day when you can stretch the process into weeks. Democracy, like sourdough, must be fermented.

Economically, California is thriving so magnificently that it has begun exporting its billionaires to other states as a wealth-tax proposal encouraged them to share their prosperity with other states. Washington, impressed by this exodus, copied the idea and began taxing millionaires. Truly, innovation spreads.

Then there’s immigration. California has perfected a system where assimilation is optional, benefits are guaranteed, and Cinco de Mayo is celebrated with more enthusiasm than the Fourth of July.  A multicultural tapestry, woven without the inconvenience of shared civic identity.

California’s energy policy was another marvel. Why rely on cheap, reliable fossil fuels when you can build an entire grid around intermittent, weather‑dependent power subsidized by taxpayers? In California, the sun doesn’t just shine — it invoices you. And once the state committed to this visionary model of expensive unreliability, it doubled down by driving out the very fossil‑fuel companies that kept the lights on. Nothing says “leadership” like banning the energy you still depend on while lecturing the rest of the country about sustainability from behind a diesel‑powered backup generator.

Crime policy was perhaps the most educational moment for the children. In California, theft under $900 is treated as a hobby, not a crime. By the end of our trip, I was on a first-name basis with my mugger. Few states offer such intimate community engagement.

But even paradise has its anxieties. A new governor’s race is coming, and because of the jungle primary system, there is a horrifying possibility that two Republicans could end up in the runoff. Imagine the catastrophe: a California where merit matters, crime is punished, and government spending is curtailed.  The horror.

As we drove home, my son looked up at me, eyes wet, and asked whether this utopia would survive once its current leadership moves on. I reassured him that the qualities often attributed to that leadership — theatrical confidence, polished messaging, and unwavering devotion to symbolism — make it perfectly suited for a national stage. With any luck, the entire country will soon experience the California model.

My son smiled, relieved. “What a glorious future,” he said.