In the months leading up to the USA’s 250th birthday party, some debris from its 200th is making headlines.

The New York Times‘s Jennifer Schuessler finds conspicuously “much less investment and enthusiasm overall” for this year’s semiquincentennial anniversary of the Declaration of Independence than the 1976 bicentennial, itself diminished by jaded jeers charging that “‘Buy-centennial’ huckersterism had sold out the true radical spirit of ’76” (“How a Historian Saved the Schlock of ’76,” May 5).

Schuessler chronicles plenty of “hats, mugs, playing cards and pickleball paddles” currently being hawked under the aegis of Donald Trump, but compared to such bicentennial-branded excrescences of “unapologetic 1976-style schlock” as toilet paper, diapers and condoms, even the output of a coauthor of Think Big and Kick Ass in Business and Life can be described on the pages of the Gray Lady as “tasteful.”

Yale University’s library includes a permanent panorama of such effluent ephemera thanks to State University of New York academic Jesse Lemisch, who preserved what he predicted would become “a deeply embarrassing heritage for 2076.”  Schuessler explains how Lemisch drew a stark contrast between the actually existing capitalism of ’76 and “the ‘arrogant nationalism and elitism’ of the 1950s that historians, like the nation itself, were already leaving behind.”

Lemisch confronted “the historical profession’s complacent, complicit relationship with American power” as early as a 1967 analysis of the American Revolution, “a genuinely democratic uprising driven by the aspirations of the artisan and working classes, which were ultimately thwarted by wealthy elites.”  That viewpoint was “particularly recommended” in the newsletter The Libertarian, whose “Washington Editor,” Karl Hess, was on the path that led to his interview in the July 1976 issue of Playboy (which highlighted his observation that “The Declaration of Independence is so lucid we’re afraid of it today … because it tells us there comes a time when we must stop taking orders”).

Yet even back then, Lemisch suspected that efforts at “replacing elite history with a history of ‘average people'” had, in shifting emphasis from the halls of power to the market square, “merely traded in the heroes of politics for the heroes of business.” So it was not completely out of character for him to see the spirit of 1976 as one that “floated down from above, and responded to no popular longing to celebrate the Bicentennial,” despite Schuessler noting that voting with dollars for “Patriotic Dixie cups and cereal boxes might seem to epitomize the kind of populist ‘history from below’ that Lemisch championed” (less than a month after Mekado Murphy has written in the Times that relics of Rocky‘s bicentennial bout “are as essential to Philadelphia tourism as the Liberty Bell and Independence Hall”).

One replica of the Declaration from the Me Decade, a freebie for Fourth of July grocery shopper Michael Hart, might have made the perfect bit of decorative detritus for Lemisch — if Hart hadn’t instead typed up the text, immortalizing it as the first entry of his Project Gutenberg collection (he would oversee it growing into an online library tens of thousands strong).  In 1971, one of the few files starting to spread as widely on nascent computer networks was a popular Star Trek game by Mike Mayfield.

The utopian universe whose tricky traders rarely “wear red, white and blue, or look anything like Uncle Sam” (as surmised in the 1987 episode “The Last Outpost”) ironically also provided inspiration to the patriotic Objectivist Hart. Times obituary author William Grimes described Hart’s eBook giveaways as aiming to prefigure a Trek-like “age of universal abundance,” one which would upend “all established power structures” and  “challenge the entire social and economic system of the United States.”

New Yorker Joel Schlosberg is a senior news analyst at The William Lloyd Garrison Center for Libertarian Advocacy Journalism.

PUBLICATION/CITATION HISTORY

Half a century is plenty of time for an Apple to stay fresh, or to rot.

The New York Times‘s Kalley Huang (“For Employee No. 8, Many Changes in Apple’s 50-Year History,” April 2) traces the evolution of Apple Inc. from a “scrappy start-up that assembled computers by hand” — and whose organic name was a natural fit for an environment in which “Silicon Valley’s fruit orchards hadn’t yet been taken over by office parks” — to one which “has come to define how to be a global technology company.”

In a 2014 Bloomberg interview, Steve Wozniak recalled how he had “given away my designs for the Apple-1 for free,” leaving it to Steve Jobs to take projects the other Steve had “designed for fun” (while being “totally aware that a revolution was close to starting”) and “somehow turn them into some money for both of us.” The sum of their money would become so enormous that Chris Espinosa, who admits that having “had no college degree and … only worked at one company” since 1976 doesn’t sound like much of a résumé, owns what Huang estimates is well over $100 million worth of the corporation that makes a thousandfold of that in profit every year.

Craig Newmark’s op-ed “Craigslist Made Me Rich. Giving the Money Away is Easy” might have included Espinosa as evidence for how “making money isn’t proof to me that I know something any better than someone else” but of being “in the right place, at the right time” to apply common sense to a new field, if it hadn’t gone to print in the same day’s edition of The New York Times.  Newmark doesn’t propose any political program, keeping his distance even from any endorsement of “left-wing nonprofits” and instead promoting such voluntary philanthropic efforts as the Giving Pledge. Still, the public souring on the information industry, as captured by such titles as Douglas Rushkoff’s Throwing Rocks at the Google Bus and Tripp Mickle’s After Steve: How Apple Became a Trillion-Dollar Company and Lost Its Soul, might seem the inevitable result of it enabling such outsized yet largely fortuitous accumulations in the first place.

The Giving Pledge cofounder Bill Gates owes much of his fortune to emulating Apple. The video game Halo was first showcased at MacWorld by Jobs before it became an exclusive killer app for Microsoft’s Xbox. Gates’s Windows operating system tapped the talent of Macintosh’s iconic icon designer Susan Kare. And yet the broader impact of Apple’s innovations is hardly confined to such sheerly financial windfalls.

This is not just because Apple efforts like the HyperCard which made creating and viewing multimedia straightforward, the Pippin which brought built-in Internet access to a video game console, and the Newton which pioneered the personal digital assistant were influential on later developments without managing to become profitable products for them or anyone else.

Indeed, much of the creativity that spread from Apple’s roots in Cupertino, California to cyberspace is closer in spirit to Wozniak than Jobs. It was entirely typical for Stephen D. Young and Debra Willrett’s Backgammon, programmed for the Apple Macintosh in the same non-Orwellian year 1984 during which the desktop model was introduced, to give out a postal address for users who “enjoy it and would like to see more ‘freeware'” to “please send whatever you think it’s worth” … and permission for them to disseminate the software itself.

Huang notes that Apple’s current survival requires not just satisfying customers but withstanding “tariff whiplash, antitrust scrutiny and geopolitical turmoil.”  Consumer sovereignty and cooperative networking can tame such seemingly relentless forces — and make the fruits of tech’s golden geese as common as dirt.

New Yorker Joel Schlosberg is a senior news analyst at The William Lloyd Garrison Center for Libertarian Advocacy Journalism.

PUBLICATION/CITATION HISTORY

1. “Guest Column: The age of the Gilded Apple” by Joel Schlosberg, The Elizabethton, Tennessee Star, April 7, 2026
2. “The Age of the Gilded Apple” by Josh Schlossberg [sic], CounterPunch, April 10, 2026

A New York Times columnist offering pointers for “Pitchfork Pat” Buchanan-type populists on “the isolationist right who thought Trump shared his views” might seem akin to a mad scientist named Frankenstein offering a road map to a pitchforks-and-torches peasant mob.  Yet Michelle Goldberg does just that in “The President Was Never Antiwar” (March 2).

While maintaining that Donald Trump was indeed the embodiment through which “the once marginalized politics of Patrick Buchanan became a dominant force in the Republican Party,” Goldberg insists that “Trump was never Buchanan’s heir when it came to foreign policy.”   While “it is true that he broke with key elements of neoconservative ideology,” he hasn’t distanced himself from even “the most fanatical of neoconservatives,” preferring instead to discard the ideology’s “notion that American power should ever be constrained by a veneer of idealism.”  The end result is “less a repudiation of neoconservatism than a mutation of it.”

Trump might, as Goldberg suggests, be “attracted to right-wing cranks of all stripes.” But “paleoconservatives who are skeptical of foreign entanglements” can trace their views back to Thomas Jefferson and John Quincy Adams.  As Franklin Foer highlighted in The New York Times, during another rash Republican administration garnering “fierce loyalty from conservatives” to the point where rightist “backlash against the war may seem unexpected,” the Buchanan who “vociferously opposed Bush’s campaign against Saddam Hussein, just like he had opposed the one waged by Bush’s father” was drawing on a tendency that included Gerald Ford and John F. Kennedy, “not just angry farmers and protofascists.”

If none of those four forefathers were that peaceful as presidents, neither were they real-life versions of the reactionary rule of Charles Lindbergh as imagined by Philip Roth in The Plot Against America (what was for Foer in 2004 a “new counterfactual novel” dramatizing a dystopia of paleocon precursors).  Contemporary conservatives who “bemoan feminism, immigration and multiculturalism” have given up hope of a USA unshaped by such movements to the point where “they see no point in exporting its values abroad.”

By contrast, Goldberg points out that Trump being “anti-immigrant, hostile to free trade and given to John Birch Society-style conspiracy theorizing” is taken to show that he will cut off military maneuvering at the borders as well.  That doesn’t just ignore the longstanding observation by laissez-faire radicals that voluntary relations across state lines tend to defuse rather than fuel international tensions.  It’s almost as if Perseus didn’t bother with his painstaking tracking and taming of the mythological winged horse Pegasus in Clash of the Titans, but was satisfied with a particularly malodorous pile of manure.

Goldberg is on to something in noting how Trump’s persona evolved in an environment with “no real cost to his belligerence” … not even mentioning his 2000 interview in The Advocate magazine defining his politics in opposition to, not imitation of, “the things [Buchanan] had written about Hitler, Jews, blacks, gays, and Mexicans.” As Herculean as the task may seem, we don’t need a Greek demigod to clean up the political horse race.

New Yorker Joel Schlosberg is a senior news analyst at The William Lloyd Garrison Center for Libertarian Advocacy Journalism.

PUBLICATION/CITATION HISTORY

1. “Neo-Trumpers: The Next Mutation?” by Joel Schlosberg, CounterPunch, March 9, 2026