At a glance, the Kremlin’s announcement Monday of the decision to formally pull Russia out of the deal to keep Ukrainian grain and oilseeds flowing to a hungry world might look like a direct response to the Ukrainian water-borne drone attack that damaged the Kerch Strait Bridge, Crimea’s key link to the Russian mainland.

But this likely was a decision that had been a long time coming.

The Black Sea Grain Initiative brokered by Turkey and the United Nations, despite Russia’s naval blockade of Ukraine’s Black Sea ports, was one of the few positive international agreements that helped to ameliorate the impact of the nearly 17-month-old war on the global economy, particularly the price of basic foodstuffs.

But while Russia’s adherence to the complex deal enabled Ukraine to export millions of tons of grain to the world market, Russia argues, promised measures that would have facilitated Russian food and fertilizer exports were never implemented by the West.

Moreover, a worsening geopolitical environment may have contributed to Moscow’s decision to terminate the arrangement. The Ukrainian attack on the Kerch Bridge likely increased Russian determination to assert greater naval control over the Black Sea region.

In addition, Turkish President Recep Tayyip Erdoğan, a central mediator of the grain deal, infuriated Russia by handing over several interned Ukrainian prisoners of war – members of the notorious Azov regiment – during a visit to Turkey this month by Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskyy. As a result, experts say, Mr. Erdoğan’s appeals for further talks about the grain deal may now fall on deaf ears in Moscow.

“Russia didn’t need this deal at all,” says Arkady Zlochevsky, president of Russian Grain Union, an industry group. “The deal has never given us anything but damage. ... This deal was terminated by Russia because obligations made to Russia were not fulfilled. There were agreements to facilitate Russian food and fertilizer exports, the importation of spare parts for our agricultural machinery, reconnecting [the Russian Agricultural Bank, which is under the oversight of government body] Rosselkhoznadzor to the SWIFT bank transfer system [to enable payments for Russian exports].

“A one-sided deal is not profitable for us.”

“Impossible to continue”

The accord was negotiated a year ago to enable Ukraine to open safe sea lanes to its heavily mined and blockaded Black Sea ports in order to export its stored grain and oilseeds to traditional markets amid shortages and spiraling prices. Mr. Erdoğan and the U.N. negotiated separately with Russia and Ukraine and arranged joint measures to monitor and inspect shipping. Over the past year, Ukraine has exported around 33 million metric tons of foodstuffs, while global food prices have largely stabilized. Prices jumped again following the Russian announcement.

Yoruk Isik/Reuters

Turkish-flagged bulk carrier TQ Samsun, carrying grain under the U.N.'s Black Sea Grain Initiative, transits the Bosphorus Strait in Istanbul, July 18, 2023.

The Russian Foreign Ministry warned on Telegram that, as of Tuesday, the “humanitarian corridor” created in the Black Sea to enable grain shipments and the corridor’s monitoring system will now be closed, leading to a “temporarily dangerous” situation in the shipping lanes. In practice, that may mean fully imposing a Russian naval blockade on Ukraine’s ports.

“Maybe now Russia will move to shut down all transport to Ukraine’s Black Sea ports, which includes much more than grain,” says Alexei Mukhin, director of the independent Center for Political Information in Moscow. “Nothing that Russia wanted from the deal has materialized, and for the Kremlin, it’s just become impossible to continue it.”

Western response to the Russian move has been harsh, with U.S. Secretary of State Antony Blinken accusing Moscow of “weaponizing food.” President Zelenskyy appealed for international measures to keep the flow of grain moving through the Black Sea without Russia’s participation. In his regular daily address, Mr. Zelenskyy asked U.N. Secretary-General António Guterres to work with “responsible states to restore food security and food supply via the Black Sea routes.”

It’s not clear who would enforce open shipping lanes in the Black Sea if the Russian navy decided to shut them down. White House National Security Council spokesperson John Kirby said that the U.S. military would not be used to protect Ukrainian grain shipments.

Feeding a global market

The propagandist war of words has mainly focused on the impact on vulnerable populations in the Global South. Russian President Vladimir Putin recently alleged that only 3% of Ukrainian grain exports were being sent to developing nations, with the bulk going to rich countries. Actually, the biggest single customer for Ukrainian grain delivered under the deal has been China, followed by Spain, Turkey, and Italy.

But the importance to the international market of making Ukrainian grain available is less about who buys it – since grain is fungible – than that it increases the overall available supply and thus reduces overall demand. According to the U.N., global prices fell by almost 25% after the deal was implemented, making grain more accessible to poorer consumers.

Feisal Omar/Reuters

A worker prepares bread with wheat from Ukraine at a bakery in the Hodan district of Mogadishu, Somalia, July 16, 2023. Though most Ukrainian grain is bought by wealthier countries like China and Spain, its presence on the global market still reduces the price of grain for poorer nations like Somalia.

Russia insists that it’s been ready to step up its own exports of grain and provide them at a discount to countries facing hunger. But it has been hampered by difficulties regarding insurance for ships transporting its goods, the Russian Agricultural Bank's exclusion from the SWIFT financial system, and other sanctions-related problems. Despite promises to lift impediments to Russian food exports, nothing has been done, the Russians say.

Neither, they add, have agreements to enable the export of Russian ammonia, a vital ingredient in fertilizers, been fulfilled. And in June, a pipeline carrying ammonia from Russia to the Ukrainian seaport of Odesa was destroyed, allegedly by Ukrainian saboteurs, leaving Moscow claiming it had even fewer remaining reasons to renew the Black Sea deal.

A fresh extension of the arrangement could be possible only if Mr. Putin decides it’s politically desirable.

“We might see a new round of talks between Erdoğan and Putin, and they might come up with some new scheme,” says Fyodor Lukyanov, editor of Russia in Global Affairs, a Moscow-based foreign policy journal. “Since we [Russians] live in a system of full-scale personal autocracy, where everything depends on the will of one person, anything is possible. But it doesn’t seem likely.”

No fresh talks between the Russian and Turkish leaders are currently on the agenda, Russian news agency TASS reports.

When the grain deal was brokered a year ago, many hoped it would lead to further diplomatic breakthroughs and perhaps even a path to peace. Nothing of that sort has happened, while both Ukraine and Russia have looked for other ways to export their agricultural produce. The end of the grain deal seems unlikely to make much difference, says Mr. Lukyanov.

“Real diplomacy will begin only when both sides realize there is nothing more to be gained on the battlefield,” he says. “We’re not there yet.”

Susan Walsh/AP

Hunter Biden talks with guests during a state dinner for India's Prime Minister Narendra Modi at the White House in Washington, June 22, 2023. The Republican chairs of three key House committees are joining forces to probe the Justice Department's handling of charges against Mr. Biden.

Last month, Hunter Biden struck a plea deal on tax and gun charges with federal prosecutors. But the reality is that Mr. Biden’s legal problems are far from over.

House Republicans are ramping up their investigations of the accusations against President Joe Biden’s son and the Justice Department’s handling of his case. GOP lawmakers are particularly focused on allegations from two IRS agents that Justice officials obstructed and delayed their probe into Hunter Biden’s actions. Both are scheduled to appear as witnesses at a public hearing of the GOP-led House Oversight Committee on Wednesday.

Democrats have dismissed the effort as groundless and motivated by politics. Republicans insist they are following leads that might ultimately implicate the commander in chief himself.

The plea deal

The Justice Department began investigating Hunter Biden in 2018, initially focusing on his foreign business dealings in China and Ukraine, among other countries.

In June, the Department struck a plea deal with Mr. Biden under which he agreed to plead guilty to misdemeanor charges of failure to pay taxes in 2017 and 2018. He also agreed to enter a pretrial diversion program which, if completed, would allow him to avoid being charged for falsely saying he was not a drug user when he purchased a .38 caliber revolver at a Wilmington, Delaware, gun store on Oct. 12, 2018.

Mr. Biden now admits that period was a low point in his life when he was struggling with addiction problems. He has since paid back his taxes owed.

If the plea deal is approved by a federal judge as it stands, Mr. Biden would likely face no prison time. However, U.S. Attorney for Delaware David Weiss, who led the investigation and filed the charges, said in a June 20 statement that “the investigation is ongoing.” He did not say what aspects of Mr. Biden’s life were still under the Justice Department microscope. Mr. Biden is expected to appear in court July 26. 

“Sitting here with my father”

Many Republicans were outraged at what they considered a slap on the wrist for a Biden family member. On his Truth Social network former President Donald Trump insinuated that Mr. Biden was guilty of much worse and that the plea deal amounted to a “traffic ticket.”

Days after Justice officials announced the plea deal, the House Ways and Means Committee released transcripts from several IRS officials who had testified before the panel under what Republicans said were whistleblower protections.

One of the officials, Gary Shapley, an IRS agent who had supervised the inquiry into Mr. Biden, described a July 30, 2017, WhatsApp message from Mr. Biden to Chinese businessman Henry Zhao. The message was obtained from iCloud storage under a search warrant.

In the message, Mr. Biden said that he was sitting with his father, and that “we would like to understand how the commitment made was not fulfilled.”

Andrew Harnik/AP

President Joe Biden (right) and his son Hunter Biden arrive at Fort McNair, June 25, 2023, in Washington, after returning from Camp David.

If the matter was not resolved to his satisfaction, Mr. Biden said, “the man sitting next to me and every person he knows” would find out.

President Biden has personally dismissed the claim that he was connected to his son’s business activities. He emphatically answered, “No, I wasn’t,” when asked by reporters last month whether he was involved in his son’s business dealings, or in the room when the WhatsApp message was sent.

Hunter Biden’s lawyers have said that the message was sent during a period of their client’s life that was dominated by addiction to crack cocaine and filled with personal turmoil. His brother Beau Biden died in 2015, and after that he spiraled downward, even engaging in a brief affair with his late brother’s wife.

Abbe Lowell, one of Mr. Biden’s attorneys, questioned the authenticity of the message in a June 30 letter to the Republican chairman of the House Way and Means Committee.

“President Biden and our client were not together that day,” Mr. Lowell wrote.

The whistleblowers

Republican investigators have based many of their criticisms of the Hunter Biden plea deal on the assertions of two whistleblower witnesses: Mr. Shapley, and an unidentified “Agent X.” 

These witnesses, according to testimony transcripts, have outlined what they deem to be a pattern of slow-walking and delay in the Justice Department’s Hunter Biden investigation.

Mr. Shapley, for instance, has described what he believes to be roadblocks that he and other agents encountered when they attempted to interview witnesses they deemed relevant to the investigation or issue search warrants.

Both whistleblowers say they believe they have been subject to professional retaliation for coming forward and presenting their case to congressional investigators.

Their most contentious claims involve U.S. Attorney David Weiss, who was appointed to his position by former President Trump, and continued his investigation of Hunter Biden under the Biden administration.

Mr. Shapley said that Mr. Weiss had sought to be appointed a special counsel – which would have allowed him to bring tax charges against Mr. Biden in jurisdictions other than Delaware – but was denied this status. U.S. Attorneys in California and Washington appointed by the current president then blocked him from prosecuting Mr. Biden in their jurisdictions, according to the whistleblowers.

In his testimony Mr. Shapley also said he had personally heard Mr. Weiss say he would not be the “deciding official” on the question of whether to prosecute the younger Mr. Biden.

The Biden response

Administration officials have responded that various actions whistleblowers have interpreted as slow-walking may simply reflect the natural hesitations of officials involved in a complex, politically fraught investigation.

Bringing a felony tax evasion case against Mr. Biden may have been difficult, for instance, as juries sometimes balk at convicting on such charges when defendants have already paid back owed taxes and penalties, as Mr. Biden has.

Meanwhile, Mr. Weiss has publicly denied being blocked from pursuing serious charges against Mr. Biden.

In a letter to Republican Sen. Lindsey Graham of South Carolina, Mr. Weiss asserted that he never requested special counsel status. He said he had inquired about something else: whether he could be appointed a special attorney under a set of Justice Department regulations that would allow him to bring charges in jurisdictions other than his own, if necessary.

“I was assured I would be granted this authority if it was necessary,” Mr. Weiss wrote.

Attorney General Merrick Garland has also weighed in on Mr. Weiss’ powers. 

“He was given complete authority to make all decisions on his own,” Attorney General Garland said at a press conference last month.

Earlier this summer, activists protested the proposed demolition of West-Park Presbyterian, a historic church on Manhattan’s Upper West Side. One reason the church was struggling to keep its doors open: It had a congregation of just 12 people.

West-Park Presbyterian’s challenges are somewhat common. In-person engagement in religious services has declined since 2019, according to a November 2022 Pew Research Center survey that also found that the “share of all U.S. adults who say they typically attend religious services at least once a month is down modestly but measurably,” from 33% in 2019 to 30% in 2022.

Most congregations in the United States are small, and getting smaller. Median attendance size in weekly worship services fell from 137 to 65 attendees between 2000 and 2020, according to a recent report by the Hartford Institute for Religion Research.

“Many of these very small congregations are, if not on the verge of collapse, in a very close state to it,” says Scott Thumma, research director for the institute, which conducts a large national survey of 15,000 religious communities. “In certain parts of the country, I would easily guess that over the next 10 years or so, 15% to 20% will have to close.”

At a time when traditional religious attendance has declined, spiritual leaders have embraced innovation to engage members and attract new ones. That can range from services on Zoom, to TikTok videos about how to perform a religious ritual, to the latest technology: artificial intelligence.

Deus ex machina?

Some religious leaders have embraced ChatGPT as part of their efforts to engage with communities in innovative ways. In Germany, a Lutheran church recently offered a service created mostly by an AI chatbot. People packed the pews to listen to the experimental service, which was led by an avatar on a screen above the altar.

Religious organizations and leaders in the United States have utilized the emerging technology to a lesser degree. Rabbi Yonatan Dahlen, at Congregation Shaarey Zedek in Michigan, says some of his Christian counterparts have used it for correspondence, marketing, and social media content. 

Richard B. Levine/Reuters/File

Activists protested the proposed demolition of the West Park Presbyterian Church on Manhattan's Upper West Side, seen here on July 10, 2022.

At the same time, many spiritual leaders are wary of AI and believe it has limitations. Mr. Dahlen says he once tried using ChatGPT to write a D’var Torah, a short teaching about a passage of the Torah. He feels that a good D’var Torah comes from vulnerability and human experience. “AI can’t do that,” Mr. Dahlen says.

Dayal Gauranga is the executive director of Manhattan’s Bhakti Center, which represents Hinduism’s tradition of Bhakti Yoga. “What makes something powerful is when there’s a lived experience of something,” he says. “You’re not going to get that just by generating a message about it.”

The Rev. Jabulani McCalister, senior pastor at Covenant Baptist Church in West Bloomfield, Michigan, says he wouldn’t use AI to write a sermon. “For me, the Holy Spirit gives me what to say, not AI. When it comes to the sermon, you are proclaiming the word of God that He’s given you to share.”

Some religious leaders feel it is possible to engage with the divine through AI. “Everything in religion, whether it be scripture, liturgy, study, etc., is essentially a tool for transcending the normal existence of time and space and diving into a deeper or more mystical truth,” says Mr. Dahlen. “I see no reason why AI couldn’t also be used as a tool for this endeavor.”

The Rev. A. Trevor Sutton, a Lutheran pastor and scholar, has concerns about computer-generated spirituality. “Where are we, as humans, irreplaceable and absolutely essential?” asks the author of “Redeeming Technology. “To envision a world where it’s me and a computer, and that’s my religion? I see that as untenable. However, if it is a tool where we retain our community and each other and our humanity? That could work.”

Faith and technology

Even before the pandemic, Dr. Thumma’s research team found a dramatic increase in the use of technology. The pandemic has accelerated these trends, and 73% of churches now offer hybrid services, with remote as well as in-person offerings. Of these congregations, 81% plan to continue offering a mix of in-person and online services for the foreseeable future, using social media like Facebook Live and YouTube.

For example, at St. Helen, a Catholic church in Westfield, New Jersey, visitors are encouraged to connect with the parish and get updates through text messages. Near the entrance, a display invites people to save a tree and download a bulletin using a QR code. The church also offers a live-streamed mass and is active on various social media platforms.

Mr. Sutton, the scholar and author, says that religious practices today look different, but that people still desire something bigger than themselves. “Church attendance may be down,”  he says. “But I think people are still trying to find transcendent meaning.”

While there are benefits to engaging in digital media, these opportunities come with certain challenges, adds Mr. Sutton. “Online worship makes it significantly easier for a church to get its message out there, but with that opportunity comes the challenge of eroded in-person community and a shift in habits.”

TikTok priests, #MediaNuns & Instagram imams

David W. Peters has more than 83,000 followers and 2.9 million likes on TikTok. What makes him different from other influencers is that he also happens to be the Vicar at St. Joan of Arc, an Episcopal Church in Texas. Reverend Peters views social media as a “virtual town square” where he can spread the church’s message.

“We try to meet people where they are,” Mr. Peters explains. “The church has always done that.”

Religious organizations and faith leaders also share information with the wider public through social media. A group of Catholic sisters in the Daughters of St. Paul, also known as the #MediaNuns, have millions of views on TikTok, and monks in Cambodia have gone viral on the platform. In the United Kingdom, Sabah Ahmedi, dubbed the “Young Imam,” uses Instagram and Twitter to combat stereotypes about Islam.

Mr. Dahlen started using Instagram as a rabbinical intern. During the pandemic, his posts as “Motor City Rabbi” on TikTok started to take off.

“I think its best use is educational,” Mr. Dahlen says. “Judaism is not unique, but it comes with a steep learning curve. There are thousands of years of tradition.” His most popular TikTok videos are on subjects such as how to put on a prayer shawl or hang up a mezuzah.

The Rev. Lizzie McManus-Dail, a millennial, has used social media since middle school. She started using social media professionally after being ordained in 2020.

“I wanted to be a positive voice,” says Reverend McManus-Dail, who leads Jubilee Episcopal Church, a new congregation in North Austin, Texas. She says the most impactful messages have been that “you do not have to give up your religion, spirituality, or relationship with God just because someone else said you don’t belong anymore based on sexuality, gender, politics, etc.”

Social media has played a huge part in Jubilee’s growth, with about 75% of the church’s members coming to the organization through social media. “A year ago, our church was just beginning to form; we now have over 100 people who call Jubilee home,” Ms. McManus-Dail says. “I’d say that is a successful use of social media for broadening and deepening religious experience!”

Pitfalls and limits of technology

Faith leaders acknowledge that technology has challenges and limitations. For starters, the culture of social media often conflicts with religious ideologies. With Cambodian monks on TikTok, for instance, local Buddhist authorities question if content that typically trends on the platform violates the monastic code, which forbids seeking fame, singing, and dancing. 

Mr. Gauranga, the Hindu leader, says there can be a temptation to make social media all about yourself. “It’s important to keep your egos in check and make sure you don’t get too carried away,” he adds.

Sometimes the virulent rhetoric on social media platforms contradicts the core tenets of religions. “As entertaining and popular as it is, there’s no doubt the social media environment can be toxic,” says Mr. Dahlen.

Being together as a community is still vital to Judaism and social media doesn’t provide that, adds Mr. Dahlen. “We don’t want it to be so good that it actually replaces community,” he says. “We want people to be there [in person].”

Virtual worship has been incredibly beneficial for certain congregations, but there is a caveat, says Dr. Thumma. “For those churches it has been beneficial for growing their attendance, but that comes with a cost because they’re not always engaged participants.”

Dr. Thumma notes that individuals who attend virtually are less likely to volunteer and tend to donate less money. “If you choose more virtual, you will have more people, but they will be less committed, less engaged,” he says. According to his research, annual per capita giving is $2,479 for those who attend mostly in person, but $1,083 for participants who are more virtual than in person.

For his part, Mr. Sutton says churches have gone through many technological revolutions and paradigm shifts over the years. For instance, the Gutenberg printing press was a disruptive technology in the 15th and 16th centuries. Although many individuals within the church initially feared and rejected this innovation, ultimately the advent of printing had a positive impact on Christianity. After the dust settles, religious communities find a way to carry on and accommodate new technologies. 

He adds that with greater use of technology, counterbalances are essential for religious organizations to thrive. “Potlucks or small group gatherings or visiting people in the hospital become significantly more important.”

“The world is having an identity crisis at the moment,” Mr. Dahlen says. “Asking big questions is important now. We are here to explore our identity together.”

Photo illustration by Dado Ruvic/Reuters

Meta's Threads app (logo seen in this illustration) saw a record surge of users since its July 6 launch as a rival to Twitter. It remains to be seen how different the two platforms will be in things like content moderation policies.

Vincent Oriarte was one of the 30 million people who joined Threads on its first day. But after trying it, he’s unsure what innovation the platform brings to the table. “I was expecting a whole different type of format and layout completely different from Twitter. But honestly it’s really hard to see the difference because they’re just so close together.”

The latest social media platform, created by Meta – the company behind Facebook and Instagram – swept through the instant communications landscape with record-breaking speed, achieving 100 million sign-ups within five days of its July 6 launch. ChatGPT, the previous record-holder, took two months to reach that many. TikTok was nine months old when it reached that milestone. 

Threads’ rapid rise speaks to a common desire for community and connection, yet also comes amid growing discontent with the downsides of social media: hate speech, misinformation, censorship claims, and toxic comparisons to others’ carefully curated lives. While Threads may offer a fresh start to its users, asking one platform to be the light to social media’s dark side may be asking too much. Still, there may be real change, experts say, in simply having more options and fresh competition. 

Threads joins other Twitter alternatives like Bluesky and Mastodon, which give users new places to gather online and share their thoughts – decentralizing what was once a marketplace dominated by a small handful of behemoths.

“For a long time the social media ecosystem felt very stagnant, overly centralized, everyone in one place,” writes Renée DiResta, research manager for the Stanford Internet Observatory, a cyber policy center, via email. “Then a lot of users began to move into smaller groups … where they could have conversations without being concerned about trolls and spam and the other things that made big platforms like Twitter start to feel toxic.”

Twitter, which had long been the undisputed king of short-burst social media, saw a wave of both users and advertisers abandon it – or consider doing so – after billionaire Elon Musk purchased the company last year. Promoting a more free-wheeling ambience, Mr. Musk for many eroded trust in the platform.

Threads seeks to capitalize on that opening. Now Mr. Musk has threatened to sue Meta’s Mark Zuckerberg for being a “copycat,” escalating a years-long rivalry. Threads’ simple, text-centered platform allows users to also post videos, photos, and links to outside content. Just like Twitter. But Meta executives are pitching Threads as a “friendly” space and say its algorithms will prioritize lighter sports and entertainment fare rather than politics and news.

Gonzalo Fuentes/Reuters

Elon Musk, owner of Twitter, attends the Viva Technology conference dedicated to innovation and startups in Paris, June 16, 2023.

Whether Threads can maintain its vision for a kinder online arena is an open question. Meta is reportedly not bringing the fact-checking program it built to contain misinformation on Facebook and Instagram to Threads. And political content is quickly flooding onto the new platform. Threads, like Twitter, will face a difficult balancing act regulating misinformation, controversial or inciting posts, and the varied interests of users, observers say. 

“I don’t sense that there’s a radical differentiation between [Threads and Twitter] right now,” regarding governance of the platforms, says Andrew Sellars, founding director of the Technology Law Clinic at Boston University. “I think users are on pretty equal ground, which is to say they don’t have the ability to heavily influence that other than through some grand populist pressure like, ‘do this or don’t do this, or otherwise I leave the platform.’”

Threads users 

Threads comes with a catch: It’s an add-on to Instagram, a popular photo-forward platform, which means Threads users have to have an Instagram account first. 

Writer and teacher Emily Brogan likes that affiliation – her Threads timeline was instantly populated with familiar friends from Instagram. “I don’t have to go start from zero and actively find people I want to follow. It all carries over from Instagram,” she says, adding she also feels less inclined to scroll for hours on end.

Content creator Jez Deguzman also made the switch. Once an active Twitter user, he checks his Threads account at least six times a day because the content “is a lot cleaner and friendlier.” 

Ms. Brogan still enjoys Twitter, which she’s been using actively since 2011. But she’s become fed up with changes to the platform since Mr. Musk took over in October 2022. He has required users to pay for verified accounts, limited the number of posts a person sees in their feed, and temporarily removed accounts that irk him personally, drawing anger from users and drawing attention to the enormous power wielded by a handful of titans in the tech world. 

That power blurs the lines between companies and the people who run them – turning professional rivalries into personality wars. “Because a lone individual is able to more or less control how the company acts and behaves, it becomes very hard to detangle Mark Zuckerberg and Elon Musk and Meta and Twitter,” says Mr. Sellars. 

This means that it will be very hard for people “to actually confront the power of a Zuckerberg or a Musk,” if users want major changes, Mr. Sellars says. 

Not solely “free speech vs. hate speech” 

The arrival of Threads has flared anew the debate around content moderation. But while Threads is new, it’s not novel. Ultimately, users on both platforms “still have very little control over their experience, or transparency around what is showing up in their feed,” says Ms. DiResta from Stanford, who points out the design and policy choices the companies make aren’t as binary as “free speech versus hate speech,” and moderation is more complex than “allow it or don’t.”

Users have little agency over how a platform operates, says Professor Sellars, who points to the difference between government-regulated speech and content moderation on social media. “The government, if they want to pass a law that curtails freedom of expression, usually has a very high bar,” and legislative and legal systems that allow for recourse. “No such rights exist on any of these platforms. … It’s still at the whims of these companies as to what they permit or don’t permit.”

Consumers do have the right to hit delete. Their power lies in which platforms they choose – a decision informed by where their friends and desired audiences engage. “People are looking for community and a way to connect with their friends,” Ms. DiResta says. “At its best, that’s what social media has always offered. But when people begin to feel that a platform no longer aligns with their values or the user experience gets bad, they look elsewhere.”

For companies that broker in chatter, the greatest threat is silence.

Editor's note: We have updated the name Jez Deguzman to reflect correct spelling.

I’m trying to figure out how many times I wish I’d kept my mouth shut. 

As I fill in the mental spreadsheet that may eventually yield a total, patterns emerge in the data: From birth to age 7, for example, I have no entries. The numbers rise in a gentle slope from age 7 to 12, and then sharply spike to age 23. 

The numbers stay at a plateau until I’m 27. At last, they start to sink gradually to today – which already has several entries. As of this evening, based on estimated frequency over time, the number of examples is surely in the thousands. 

Here’s a sampling: The first thing I remember wishing I hadn’t said was at age 7. It was “I’ll do it,” to a neighbor. He’d asked for a volunteer from a group of children playing in the street outside his home to spray a half-empty can of insecticide on a hornet’s nest in an evergreen shrub next to his garage. As the hornets erupted from the papery nest, I had but one thought: “Uh-oh.” 

The neighbor was an FBI agent, so I thought he knew what he was doing. Anybody involved in shootouts with kidnappers, bank robbers, and enemy agents wouldn’t steer me wrong, would he? Looking back, I’m betting he was a forensic CPA.

Many of the things I regret having said fall into vast self-explanatory categories: “things I’ve said to police officers in an effort to lighten the mood” or “unintentionally irritating things I’ve said to waitstaff before they brought my food to the table.” 

High school was an especially rich time: “Anything I said to a girl” and “witty responses to vice principals” brim with colorful examples. Closely related to those, in graduate school I added “witty but undeniably testy responses during the oral defense of my very precious work.” 

I regret telling one of my athletes to “gut it out” and compete through an injury when I was a brand-new coach. I also regret telling him it was worth it. I regret even thinking it was worth it.

There were a number of times I regret having said as a parent, “Don’t do that,” to our boys, instances almost perfectly balanced out by the times I regret having said, “OK. Why not?” Or, better: “What could possibly go wrong?”

As a traveler, I regret saying whatever it was I was trying to say in German. 

I never regret having said, “I love you.” Except once. I was in my office having just hung up the phone after a call with my wife when the front gate guard at our campus called to tell me I had a visitor headed my way. I thanked him and, just as I hung up, added, “Love you!” 

I stared at the phone. The security guard’s name was Bill, and he was a nice enough guy, but I didn’t really mean to say, “Love you.” I’m sure he was staring at his phone, too. 

For weeks, I checked with a friend in campus security to find out when Bill was on duty. During those times, I avoided entering or leaving campus. Bill eventually retired, and then I could come and go freely again.

Things I regret not having said? This is a much shorter list. I regret the times I kept my mouth shut when I should have been apologizing, admitting fault, or speaking a hard truth. I regret not saying goodbye to some people I figured I’d always be seeing again. I regret not saying thank you to people who probably wondered why I seemed to be taking them for granted. These instances are rare, but they pack a wallop. 

Finally, I regret not asking our server in Venice just exactly what part of the cephalopod (squid, cuttlefish, inkfish – I’m still not sure) on my plate was edible. When he cleared our dishes, his face got a little pale, and he said, “Ah. I see you ate, ah, the, ah, head.” 

So, yes, there were times I really should have piped up. 

Reviewing my spreadsheet, I see I learned many things the hard way. The ancient Greek Stoics may be right: It’s better not to speak. And, if you do speak, say as little as possible. 

And that’s all I have to say.

AP

Chinese have flocked to tourist sites since the end of pandemic lockdowns. Here visitors enjoy a day at the West Lake scenic area in Hangzhou, Zhejiang.

With China’s economy in trouble – a fifth of young people are jobless – official censors are working overtime to suppress online reporting of bad news. In addition, public skepticism about official data is rising. Yet the ruling Communist Party has another problem. When a mass of Chinese people creates an economic success story on their own, the party tries to take credit, while the truth about such freedom is hard to repress.

A startling event this year in China was the rush of millions of young people to the industrial city of Zibo after the lifting of COVID-19 lockdowns. Social media had spread word of Zibo’s hospitality and outdoor barbecue stalls. Videos on Douyin, the local version of TikTok, showed customers delighting in eating kebabs outdoors. In March alone, 4.8 million people showed up in a city of 4.7 million.

The “barbecue craze” was a “social-media phenomenon unlike anything China has seen before,” declared The Economist in May. Other cities inquired on how to copy Zibo’s success.

The party claimed it had sparked the tourist rush. Yet many online commentators noted the spontaneous nature of people traveling to Zibo. One respected blogger who writes about the economy, Wu Xiaobo, said the mass pilgrimage was “fulfilling ... common people’s imagination of a free market: high-quality and affordable commodities, a hearty consumption experience, a market environment that is childlike and honest, and a humble and friendly ‘small government.”

Zibo’s officials got out of the way of the craze more than they guided it. People were “participating in a small experiment of democratization,” wrote Mr. Wu. “This is an extremely humble goal, but it is so precious in today’s China.”

He added, “You can never underestimate the silence and ‘voting with your feet’ of the people. Today, when people’s wisdom has been developed, no slogan or declaration is worth a free barbecue. People don’t need sentimental ‘fatherly love’, but only long for equality. People’s recognition of power has always been based on the common value of ‘people do not deceive themselves’.”

For that commentary and other “harmful information” about China’s economy, Mr. Wu’s writings were banned June 26 by the Weibo social media platform. Given his prominence – he had some 5 million followers – the ban only adds to concerns that Beijing has returned to an old habit of distorting economic data as well as heavily controlling the media narrative about the economy.

Government statisticians are highly respected in China, but “it’s not their job to ... just straight-up report data,” says Anne Stevenson-Yang, managing principal of J Capital Research. “Their job is to target a particular number and see whether the data can be twisted a little bit to meet that number.”

The Zibo barbecue craze, now largely over in the heat of summer, may linger in the memory of Chinese people. Their wisdom, honesty, and longing for equality, as Mr. Wu noted, were on display in the city. In fact, he concluded, the phenomenon “is the whole reality of China in 2023.”