Claire: Welcome, Michael, welcome to Sydney. It’s great to have you here. Now, I want to talk to you about the misinformation bill that the current government is tabling, which is going to a vote in the Senate next week. The government is currently considering both a misinformation bill and an age ban requiring a national digital ID.
Do you see these as separate issues, or is this part of a broader trend towards digital authoritarianism?
Michael: Yeah, I do worry about it being connected. I can’t prove that they are, but the first bill—the misinformation bill—is, for me, more straightforward. It’s not necessary. You already have laws against fraud, libel, defamation, and child exploitation. Those things are already illegal under Australian law.
This bill would criminalise many forms of political speech. It has a provision that allows for the censorship of “misleading” information. Anything can be considered misleading. I was personally censored for that. I know the facts I had on climate change were accurate. Nonetheless, Facebook said they were misleading because I was taking people away from the apocalyptic presentation of climate change.
That kind of provision is prone to abuse. There’s also a provision regarding “vilification.” I think all of us who have been criticised on social media have experienced the fishbowl effect of feeling vilified. Sometimes, some of us ask our friends and family, “Is it really as bad as it looks?” And it’s always a more intense feeling for the person experiencing it. That worries me.
The prime minister also came out and said he had seen his head pasted onto a different body in a meme. He thought that should be censored. That indicated to me that he’s coming from a place of being fairly thin-skinned. I mean, you’re the head of state of a major country. So for me, that legislation is, hopefully, doomed.
This is similar to a trend we’ve seen globally. Ireland, the European Union, Canada, and Brazil have all been at war with free speech. We believe this is part of a counter-populist strategy that accelerated after 2016, often involving elements of the intelligence community working through intermediary NGOs in ways that are deeply concerning.
The social media issue, however, is more complicated. I’m a father. I have two kids, and I think they were negatively impacted by social media. I regret not having done more about it. I agree with Jonathan Haidt that the research is very strong—social media has multiple negative impacts. One of them is that kids aren’t reading as much as they need to.
The anxiety created by that fishbowl effect is extremely severe. The question is, how do you deal with that? Notably, Haidt recently told me he’s been having the most success with phone-free schools. He’s also working with parent groups whose children play together to restrict social media use. Of course, as parents, we know kids are very sensitive to what other kids are allowed to do, so you want to tackle this as a group.
But the issue that concerns me is that this seems to be a Trojan horse to push digital identification. I worry a lot about digital ID systems. Two years ago, I might not have been as concerned, but now I see this as an effort to control behaviour and potentially control speech. We’re already seeing these tools used that way in China.
There’s a famous Black Mirror episode with Dallas Bryce Howard where she’s socially ranked, and it has terrible impacts on her life. It might seem exaggerated or catastrophic, but when these tools are placed in the hands of bureaucrats, there’s a natural tendency to expand their power. I would worry a lot about a digital ID system taking hold in Australia.
Claire: Yes, indeed. With regard to the age ban, which is currently open for consultation—but only for 24 hours—it strikes me as strange. I have children, too, and they attend schools with Instagram accounts that post pictures of the kids on social media.
It seems to me that the government could focus more on getting phones out of schools and reducing the normalisation of social media in educational spaces. For example, I know one private school in Sydney has gone so far as to design custom “semi-dumb” phones for their students. These phones allow access to messaging services and Spotify but block Instagram and similar apps.
To me, that seems like an ideal intervention rather than a blanket ban on under-16s using social media, which would require everyone—including adults—to verify their age before signing up. What do you think about hardware solutions like that?
Michael: I’m generally in favour of technological fixes. If you can implement a technological solution, you should. We’re definitely in a period where experimentation is needed, and that seems like a completely reasonable step to take.
Jonathan Haidt mentioned he’s postponing a book project to dedicate the next year or two to working on this issue. It’s an important time for that.
At the same time, I think we need to be careful about catastrophising. Children are resilient, and we’re all anti-fragile to some extent. Kids need adversity, including social adversity. Being excluded or picked on is awful, but it’s a necessary part of growing up. That said, the fishbowl effect of social media makes it feel particularly intense. I see it not just with kids but even with adults, including prominent public intellectuals.
It’s common to hear someone say, “You’ve seen what’s happening to me on X (Twitter)!” And I’ll respond, “No, I haven’t.” The world is so social, and we’re hardwired for it, so these online experiences feel incredibly intense. We’re still learning how to navigate this, how to make mistakes online and move past them. Sometimes, owning those mistakes can even foster greater sympathy and understanding.
Claire: That’s a great point. Earlier this year, I wrote an op-ed for The Australian about the misinformation bill, where I argued that it represents a kind of grief response from the government and our institutions. What I meant was that there’s been a loss of control over public discourse since the rise of the internet, social media, and the great populist revolts of 2016.
What do you think of that thesis? Are these moves to restrict online speech—through the misinformation bill or potentially the age ban—a reaction from governments worried about losing power?
Michael: Absolutely. That’s very much aligned with Martin Gurri’s thesis in The Revolt of the Public. Gurri worked at the CIA analysing these trends and wrote his book in 2014. He pointed out that the same technology enabling the US government to support regime change during the Arab Spring or Eastern Europe’s colour revolutions would inevitably come back to fuel populism in the West.
I don’t think Trump or Brexit happened because of social media, but I do think elites saw those events as deeply concerning. And by “elites,” I mean both governing elites and those in institutions with strong inclinations toward censorship. There’s an organic demand for censorship—cancel culture is real—but there’s also an inorganic push from elites who once had much more control over mainstream news media.
The advent of social media disrupted that control. Gurri describes how, after World War II, the US government exercised significant influence over media narratives. That era ended with social media, and we’re witnessing the resulting panic. Interestingly, we now see progressives migrating to platforms like Blue Sky and engaging in censorship there. That desire to censor is incredibly strong and deeply ingrained in certain circles.
Trust in Public Health after COVID-19
Claire: Do you think the individuals driving this kind of censorship have learned anything from the COVID-19 response? Excessive, top-down control clearly had backfire effects. For example, we’ve published articles by public health experts like Roger Bate, who surveyed primary care physicians in Pennsylvania and found declining trust in routine vaccinations.
His research suggests this erosion of trust stems from the heavy-handed public health messaging during COVID. Historically, similar backlashes occurred. In the 1800s, the English government tried to imprison parents who didn’t vaccinate their kids against smallpox. That sparked massive protests, forcing the government to back off. You’d think officials would have learned by now that trust is a two-way street. What’s your take?
Michael: It’s a tough one. With traditional vaccines, herd immunity is a critical goal, but the COVID-19 vaccine functioned more like a flu shot, offering limited efficacy and mainly reducing symptoms, hospitalisations, and deaths. It’s tricky to navigate.
That said, public trust in the medical establishment in the US dropped dramatically—from 72 percent in the spring of 2020 to just 40 percent today. Some of that decline was inevitable, but the self-righteousness of the “woke” public health establishment certainly exacerbated the issue. There was a lot of virtue signalling and a hunt for heretics, which ultimately alienated people.
One of the most significant public backlash moments was when the White House pressured Facebook to censor what it called “often true” stories about vaccine side effects from parents. Facebook’s own researchers warned that censorship would increase vaccine hesitancy, but the White House insisted. This backfired spectacularly and showcased how coercion often undermines its intended goals.
We saw similar missteps during the summer of 2020 when public health officials simultaneously mandated lockdowns and school closures while encouraging mass protests for Black Lives Matter. That kind of blatant inconsistency severely damaged their credibility.
Claire: That’s a great point. It seems like governments and institutions should be more hands-off, trusting the public to make their own decisions. But instead, we’re seeing the opposite—proposals for measures like digital IDs that could erode trust even further.
Michael: Absolutely. The tendency among policymakers seems to favour repressive policies over educational or empowering approaches. For example, I still find it baffling that there’s no national campaign teaching kids cognitive behavioural therapy (CBT). CBT has roots in stoicism, which was a cornerstone of Western civilisation for centuries, and it’s incredibly effective at combating catastrophic thinking.
Rather than pushing back against fears or teaching resilience, governments seem focused on control—whether through censorship or restrictive measures like digital IDs. Policymakers often fail to consider the second- and third-order effects of their actions.
Climate Change Policy
Claire: I think climate change policy is a perfect example of that. I was on a national Q&A program earlier this week, where someone asked whether our leaders should prioritise cost-of-living measures or climate change interventions.
I pointed out that Australia’s emissions are already declining, which is good—we all want to transition to clean energy. But many politicians act as though Australia can singlehandedly solve climate change, fostering unnecessary anxiety and alarmism. The reality is, even if we reduced our emissions to zero, China’s emissions would cancel out those gains in about two weeks. Yet our leaders profit from this alarmism, framing Australia as if it holds the key to solving a global problem.
Michael: That’s a classic case of moral discourse overriding rational policy. Leaders fixate on the moral imperative to reduce emissions without considering the most effective way to achieve that goal. Historically, energy transitions occur when new fuels become cheaper than existing ones—like the shift from wood to coal or from coal to natural gas.
I’ve always seen climate change as a secondary benefit of these transitions rather than the main event. The focus should be on advancing energy technologies, which naturally lead to lower emissions. Alarmism doesn’t help—it only distorts priorities and creates unnecessary anxiety.
Nuclear Energy
Claire: Now that you’re in Australia, can I get your thoughts on our ban on nuclear energy?
Michael: It’s incredible to me. The opposition to nuclear energy here is rooted in such a deeply ingrained, almost religious view of the technology. It’s as though nuclear energy has taken on the role of the devil in a cultural sense.
This religious framing is especially evident in the imagery used by anti-nuclear activists—and even sometimes by the nuclear industry itself. Take nuclear waste, for example. It’s one of the safest forms of waste; all of Switzerland’s nuclear waste could fit on a basketball court in solid, sealed canisters. There’s no realistic scenario where it poses a danger, yet there’s this almost mythological belief that it must be buried. When I asked engineers why they insisted on burying it, their answers were more anthropological than technical—it’s like returning something evil to the underworld.
This mindset has unfortunately shaped public perception in ways that make rational discussion difficult. For example, Germany’s opposition to nuclear energy is deeply tied to its post-World War II sense of shame and its apocalyptic framing of nuclear technology. The Germans conflated the horrors of the Holocaust with the destruction wrought by nuclear bombs, tying nuclear energy to death and devastation.
But from a human and environmental perspective, nuclear energy is extraordinary. It’s the safest way to generate reliable power, uses very little of the environment, and can be incredibly cost-effective if managed well. I’m not a fan of the current trend toward small modular reactors because their electricity will always be more expensive than large reactors due to workforce inefficiencies. If I were advising Australia, I’d suggest partnering with South Korea to build a series of larger reactors, as they’ve successfully done in the UAE.
Claire: I recently heard Peter Thiel suggest that Western fear of nuclear energy might be linked to India’s development of nuclear weapons. Do you think that’s plausible?
Michael: It’s possible, but I think the fear of nuclear technology predates that. H.G. Wells wrote a book around 1900, long before we split the atom, speculating about the dangers of unleashing the energy inside atoms. This fear is as old as the technology itself and has only intensified as more countries develop nuclear weapons.
Claire: You’ve been a strong advocate for nuclear energy, and your book Apocalypse Never was a bestseller. Did it make it onto The New York Times bestseller list?
Michael: No, it didn’t. My editor showed me sales numbers that should have placed it around sixth on the list, but The New York Times kept it off. They also never reviewed the book.
Claire: That’s surprising. I recently read that RFK Jr., who’s been nominated to head the Department of Health and Human Services, lobbied to shut down the Indian Point nuclear plant in New York, which provided 25 percent of the state’s clean baseload power. How do you reconcile Trump’s nomination of RFK Jr. with your advocacy for nuclear energy?
Michael: If Trump had appointed RFK Jr. to head the EPA or the Nuclear Regulatory Commission, I’d strongly oppose it. RFK Jr. has been openly hostile to nuclear energy. I don’t share his views on energy—though he has supported fracking, which I also support. His broader stance, however, reflects a chemophobia and radiophobia that’s familiar to anyone who grew up on the Left.
There’s a disempowering narrative behind that mindset. Anthropologist Mary Douglas explored this in her book Purity and Danger. She noted that people project fears onto things like nuclear and chemical plants, framing them as symbols of systemic threats. RFK Jr. embodies this fear-based approach, which often leads to more regulation and bureaucracy, rather than progress.
Claire: That fear of contamination seems to go back a long way. In the 1800s, anti-vaxxers claimed vaccines would poison the pure blood of children. Today, we see similar purity-based rhetoric from unexpected quarters, like yoga moms aligning with the MAGA right.
Michael: Absolutely. The purity foundation is deeply rooted in human psychology, and it transcends political boundaries. What worries me is how this anti-progress, anti-technology stance now dominates both sides of the political spectrum. On the left, it obstructs advancements in energy and biotechnology. On the right, it’s feeding into paranoia about vaccines and other scientific innovations.
Claire: That’s concerning. The last thing we need is more opposition to progress and technology. If disruptors like RFK Jr. promote regulation and obstruction, it adds to the problem rather than solving it.
Michael: Exactly. Progress always involves risk, but it’s essential. When people ask me if nuclear energy is safe, I don’t give them a black-and-white answer. It’s about relative safety. Yes, there are risks, but they’re manageable, and the benefits far outweigh them.
Look at the COVID lab-leak hypothesis. If the coronavirus leaked from a lab, it highlights the dangers of gain-of-function research. While there are theoretical benefits to that research, like developing vaccines for potential spillovers, the risks seem to outweigh the rewards. Natural spillovers, like the first SARS virus, tend to burn out quickly because they’re so deadly they don’t spread widely. But engineered viruses, like we suspect with COVID, can spread much faster while maintaining a lower mortality rate.
When Senator Tom Cotton suggested a lab-leak origin for COVID, The Washington Post dismissed it as a “debunked conspiracy theory.” Yet lab leaks are well-documented, with numerous cases in scientific literature. The scientific community remains divided on gain-of-function research, and for good reason.
Claire: We’ve published pieces on the natural origins of COVID, but the broader issue of overregulation in areas like drug development is also pressing. If someone voluntarily wants to test a drug on themselves, why not let them?
Michael: It’s a balance. Regulation exists to protect public health, but it can also stifle innovation. For terminal patients, there’s a strong case for allowing experimental treatments. But for children, who can’t give informed consent, regulation is essential—as we’ve seen in the gender medical treatment controversies.
Claire: It’s interesting to hear your perspective on regulation, especially regarding new medical treatments. There seems to be a tension between protecting people and allowing innovation to flourish. For example, the weight loss drug Ozempic has been revolutionary, but now we’re hearing concerns about potential muscle loss, including heart muscle. At the same time, new drugs are being developed to target fat more effectively. Do you think we’re striking the right balance?
Michael: It’s always a balancing act. Ozempic is a good example of how innovation can move quickly, but sometimes the long-term effects aren’t fully understood when the drugs hit the market. While it’s encouraging to see new treatments being developed, we also need better systems to monitor and adapt as new evidence comes to light.
During the pandemic, there was a disproportionate focus on vaccines over treatments. I’m not someone who believes in the efficacy of ivermectin or hydroxychloroquine, but the emphasis on vaccines sidelined potentially useful treatments. Placebos alone can be remarkably effective, yet we didn’t see a robust effort to explore all options.
For terminal patients or those with severe conditions, the ability to try experimental drugs should be a no-brainer. But we have to be cautious when it comes to vulnerable populations like children. The gender medical treatment scandal, for example, has shown how easily young people can be steered into irreversible decisions without fully understanding the consequences.
Pharmaceutical Industry
Claire: That’s a good point. I’ve also noticed how differently the pharmaceutical industry operates in the US compared to Australia. For example, in the US, there are endless ads for prescription drugs on TV, which seems to breed a lot of scepticism about Big Pharma. Here in Australia, we don’t have that kind of direct-to-consumer advertising.
Michael: Yes, the US model is very aggressive, and scandals like Purdue Pharma’s role in the opioid crisis have only deepened public mistrust. Add to that the growing awareness of issues like overprescription and the way profit motives sometimes override patient care—it’s no wonder people are sceptical.
On the other hand, there are cases where scepticism turns into something more harmful. The medical mistreatment of gender dysphoria is one example. In the UK, the National Health Service (NHS) banned puberty blockers for minors, even in private clinics, under both Conservative and Labour governments. That was a bold move, and it was heartening to see bipartisan agreement on something so important.
In the US, it’s a much more fragmented response. States handle the issue individually, and the cultural divide complicates things. You’ve got a libertarian ethos in some places that says, “Do whatever you want,” while others impose stricter regulations. It’s inconsistent and creates a patchwork of policies that don’t always prioritise patient welfare.
Claire: It’s fascinating to hear how cultural values influence policy. For instance, the libertarian ethos you mentioned often clashes with more puritanical impulses. How do you think this selective application of values plays out?
Michael: It’s a phenomenon Jonathan Haidt touches on in his Moral Foundations Theory, though I think it’s more nuanced than he initially outlined. The Left hasn’t abandoned values like freedom, loyalty, authority, or sanctity—they’ve just applied them selectively. These values are often reserved for perceived victims, while oppressors are excluded.
Take San Francisco, for example. You’ve got a policy environment where people are free to smoke fentanyl or meth on the streets in the name of bodily autonomy, yet the same city mandates strict COVID vaccine compliance. The anarchy is for victims, and the tyranny is for oppressors. It’s a kind of “anarcho-tyranny” that creates profound inconsistencies.
Journalistic Integrity
Claire: That’s such an interesting way to frame it. It makes sense, though—it explains why we see seemingly contradictory policies. Let’s shift gears a bit. I want to talk about journalism and maintaining standards in today’s disrupted media landscape. Both of us run new media organisations, and it can be challenging to uphold transparency and accuracy when resources are limited. How do you approach these issues?
Michael: It’s one of the biggest challenges we face. For example, when October 7th happened, we published what I thought was a measured, moderate editorial. Yet, we lost a significant number of subscribers because our audience—predominantly on the Right—felt we were being too even-handed. They accused us of “both-sides-ism.”
We wrote a follow-up piece explaining that we wouldn’t compromise our editorial integrity for the sake of retaining subscribers. That honesty brought some people back, along with letters of support, but it highlighted the tension between audience expectations and journalistic independence.
Our approach is to steelman opposing arguments rather than strawman them. It makes for stronger, more compelling pieces. For example, we’ll start an article by presenting the conventional wisdom or our opponents’ best argument, critique it in the second section, and give them another shot in the third act. This process helps us avoid bias and groupthink, though it’s not always easy.
We also prioritise corrections. It’s painful to admit mistakes, but it’s essential for maintaining credibility. I’ve had to issue corrections on pieces I’ve written, and while it’s disappointing not to be rewarded for doing the right thing, I believe transparency ultimately strengthens trust.
Claire: That’s admirable. At Quillette, we also avoid stealth edits and always issue editor’s notes when changes are made. Being transparent is non-negotiable.
One thing that’s helped us avoid groupthink is the fact that we’re a remote organisation. I live in Sydney, our senior editor is in London, and another editor is in Toronto. That physical separation keeps us somewhat insulated from regional hysterias, but it also makes it harder to establish a strong foothold in any one market.
Michael: That’s a fascinating dynamic. Being remote might help with objectivity, but I can see how it would complicate business development. For us, one of the biggest hurdles is funding the kind of investigative journalism that requires weeks or months of work. It’s hard to recoup those costs, so we’ve set up a nonprofit research arm to tackle long-term projects, like our reports on gender misdiagnosis and the environmental impact of wind turbines.
Claire: That’s a smart approach. I’ve often wondered how new media can sustain rigorous investigative journalism without the resources legacy media once had.
Michael: It’s a work in progress, but I think having both subscriber-supported and nonprofit-funded models allows us to pursue important stories without being entirely dependent on market forces.
Claire: That dual model makes a lot of sense, especially for stories that require extensive investigation. Speaking of investigative work, you’ve been deeply involved with the Twitter Files. As someone who’s uncovered so much about social media platforms, how do you see the landscape evolving, especially with Elon Musk at the helm of X?
Free Speech and Cancel Culture
Michael: The Twitter Files were a fascinating project. They revealed not only the extent of censorship but also how much of it was driven by external pressure from governments, media, and NGOs. Elon Musk buying Twitter—or X, as it’s now called—was a game changer for free speech, but it also introduced complications. For example, I’m currently under criminal investigation in Brazil for my work on the Twitter Files there, where we exposed serious government overreach.
Elon initially supported those revelations, but the Brazilian government responded by freezing Starlink assets, and he had to cut a deal. Now, about 300 people remain banned on X in Brazil. I try to view these developments from his perspective—he’s running a business while navigating intense geopolitical pressures. But it does raise questions about how far platforms can truly go in defending free speech.
Claire: That’s a tricky balance to strike. Do you think Elon Musk’s political involvement—assuming he becomes part of the new administration—will complicate X’s role as a bastion of free speech?
Michael: Absolutely, it could complicate things. I’ve tried to remain transparent about my own views on these figures. For example, I didn’t vote for any presidential candidate in the last election because I didn’t want to make a public commitment that might bias me. That said, I’ve been vocal about specific policies, like opposing Trump’s stance against the Press Act, which would protect journalists.
With Elon, my views are similarly nuanced. While I’ve criticised his reliance on renewables and his handling of certain issues at X, I also think he’s done a lot to advance free speech. The challenge will be maintaining that commitment if he becomes entangled in the political system.
Claire: What about the broader social media landscape? Do you think platforms like Bluesky, which seem to be attracting many progressives, will fragment the digital public square?
Michael: It’s likely. The idea of a unified public square, which was the early promise of social media, may already be over. Platforms are becoming more like targeted communities, serving distinct audiences. For example, Bluesky is attracting progressives, while X is increasingly dominated by a mix of libertarians and conservatives.
This fragmentation might be inevitable, but it does have consequences. For progressives, sealing themselves in an echo chamber like Bluesky could harm their ability to understand broader public sentiment. That disconnect was one of the Left’s biggest blind spots in recent years.
Claire: That’s a great point. I’ve seen how living in an information bubble has hurt the Left’s electoral prospects. When Quillette started, we were dismissed as far-right by progressives. Now, the Overton window has shifted so much that many Americans see us as centre-left.
Michael: Exactly. The Left’s bubble has been particularly isolating, but the Right isn’t immune. As power shifts from traditional media to platforms like X, there’s a risk of the Right creating its own echo chambers. Cancel culture, for instance, isn’t exclusive to the Left. Anyone with moral power tends to abuse it eventually.
Claire: That’s true—power does corrupt. Right-wing cancel culture could easily become a mirror image of what we’ve seen on the left. It’s something we all need to guard against.
Michael: Agreed. The key is to remain vigilant and committed to principles of free speech and open debate, regardless of where the power lies.
Claire: Well, Michael, thank you so much for this conversation. We’ve covered a lot of ground—from misinformation and digital IDs to nuclear energy and the challenges of modern journalism. It’s been a pleasure having you here.
Michael: Thank you, Claire. It’s been great talking with you.