Keen On America

“That’s not the America that I believed in and that I chose to merge my fate with.” — David Frum on Trump’s predatory foreign policy
 
What does it mean to be an American? It’s a slippery question — especially for those of us born outside the United States. Take, for example, David Frum, the Toronto-born writer and Presidential speechwriter who coined the phrase “Axis of Evil” in 2002. Back then, it included Iran, Iraq and North Korea. Today, one wonders if Frum, who has written two powerful jeremiads about Donald Trump, would include what he calls this "fascoid" in this exclusive club.
 
Frum still lives part of the year on Loyalist Parkway in Ontario — a road honouring British troops fleeing the American Revolution. From his deck, what remains of the Canadian in Frum gazes across Lake Ontario at the American shore. The lights on the other side of the lake, he admits, are more glittering. But unlike Nick Carraway in his favourite American novel The Great Gatsby, David Frum isn’t seduced by all that glitters. Carraway, Frum says, is an unreliable narrator impressed by the gangster glamour of Jay Gatsby. But Gatsby, like Donald Trump, Frum reminds us, is a criminal. And Gatsby, perhaps also like Trump, is at least part of the answer of what it means to be an American.
 
Five Takeaways
 
•       Loyalist Parkway: Canada as the Product of the American Revolution: Frum spends part of the year on Loyalist Parkway in Ontario — a road named for the refugees who fled the American Revolution northward and settled across Lake Ontario. Canada, in his telling, is the product of what he calls the American civil war that nobody calls that: the revolution of 1776. It was, for the Loyalists, a shattering loss. From his house, he looks across the lake at the American shore. There is something brighter there, more glittering, more charged. That particular Canadian vantage point — attracted to and slightly outside of America — is where Frum and Zakaria both live.
 
•       Predatory America: Trump vs the American Tradition: America is currently at war with Iran. Trump’s stated aim, in Frum’s analysis, is purely predatory — to take Iran’s oil, enrich the United States by impoverishing Iranians, plunder like a bandit. He compares this to Trump’s Venezuela policy. Frum’s verdict: that is a president against the American tradition. George W. Bush — whatever the failures of the Iraq war — went to Iraq to overthrow a dictatorship and bring a better future. He went in the name of American ideals. Trump invokes no ideals. He just wants the oil.
 
•       The Axis of Evil Defence: Andrew raises the uncomfortable parallel: Frum coined “axis of evil,” worked for Bush, helped set the fuse for the wars that led, arguably, to the current moment. Frum’s defence is structural. The Iraq war of 2003 was the continuation of a conflict that began when Saddam Hussein invaded Kuwait in 1990. Bill Clinton nearly returned to war with Iraq in 1994 and struck it in 1998, for the same reason: Iraq’s violation of the 1991 armistice. Bush was following that path. He went to war in the name of ideals. He didn’t go to steal Iraq’s oil. That is the American tradition, even in failure.
 
•       Nick Carraway Is an Unreliable Narrator: The conversation’s most surprising section: Frum on The Great Gatsby. Nick Carraway, Frum argues, is not a reliable guide to Gatsby’s moral complexity. He is a narrator seduced by gangster glamour — who constructs moral explanations for an attraction he knows he shouldn’t feel. The tell: Nick is horrified by the glamour one night, then thrilled the next morning to fly in Gatsby’s private seaplane. Gatsby is a criminal. And Gatsby is, for Fitzgerald, a symbol of America: a self-invented person with a fabricated backstory, living on bootlegging and organised crime, staring across the water at a green light he can never reach.
 
•       Looking Across the Lake: The Canadian Analyst of American Life: Frum’s closing meditation: there is something about knowing America from the inside, but there is also something valuable about the critical distance of the outsider. He looks across Lake Ontario at the American shore from which the Loyalists fled — the shore they looked back at because there was something magical on the other side. Fareed Zakaria looks across the Atlantic from India. Both naturalized citizens brought to America by an idea of what it was. Both rethinking that idea now. Frum’s plan for July 4: sitting on his deck in Ontario, looking across the water, wishing well to American democracy.
 
About the Guest
 
David Frum is a senior editor at The Atlantic and the host of The David Frum Show. He was a speechwriter and special assistant to President George W. Bush in 2001–2002. He is the author of Trumpocracy: The Corruption of the American Republic (HarperCollins, 2018) and Trumpocalypse: Restoring American Democracy (HarperCollins, 2020). He lives in Washington, D.C. and Wellington, Ontario. He is working on a memoir.
 
References:
 
•       The David Frum Show — Frum’s show at The Atlantic, where his interview with Fareed Zakaria is referenced at the opening.
 
•       The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald — the central text of the conversation’s second half.
 
•       Trumpocracy: The Corruption of the American Republic by David Frum (HarperCollins, 2018).
 
•       Trumpocalypse: Restoring American Democracy by David Frum (HarperCollins, 2020).
 
•       Loyalist Parkway, Ontario — the road where Frum lives part of the year, named for the refugees from the American Revolution.
 
About Keen On America
 
Nobody asks more awkward questions than the Anglo-American writer and filmmaker Andrew Keen. In Keen On America, Andrew brings his pointed Transatlantic wit to making sense of the United States — hosting daily interviews about the history and future of this now venerable Republic. With nearly 2,900 episodes since the show launched on TechCrunch in 2010, Keen On America is the most prolific intellectual interview show in the history of podcasting.
 
Website
Substack
YouTube
Apple Podcasts
Spotify
 
Chapters:

“The same creative and political forces that gave rise to [San Francisco’s] boom nearly engineered its collapse.” — Jonathan Weber
 
In Hitchcock’s Vertigo, the quintessential San Francisco movie, the villain points to an old painting of the city and tells Jimmy Stewart that San Francisco has changed. The real city has been lost, he says. Somebody has stolen San Francisco’s soul.
 
The veteran tech journalist Jonathan Weber is the latest writer to search for that soul. In City on the Edge: Technology, Politics, and the Fight for the Soul of San Francisco, Weber bemoans the disappearance of the real San Francisco — the city not just of the Beats and the Counterculture but also of ordinary teachers and policemen. We’ve had thirty years of boom, bust, and Big Tech. The ordinary folks of San Francisco have been replaced by a new class of tech bros.
 
In 1992, just 2% of San Franciscans worked in tech. By 2019 it was 35%. As a longtime San Franciscan, Weber had a front-row seat on the dot-com mania, the rise of social media, Uber and Airbnb, the pandemic’s great emptying of downtown, and now the AI boom driven by the San Francisco-based Anthropic and OpenAI. In City on the Edge, Weber argues that the same creative and political forces that gave rise to the boom — the counterculture’s anarchic spirit, the city’s love affair with eccentricity, the tech industry’s utopian self-belief — also engineered its near-collapse. Digital vertigo, so to speak. Once again somebody has stolen San Francisco’s soul.
 
Five Takeaways
 
•       From 2% to 35%: The Numbers Behind the Transformation: In 1992, just 2% of San Francisco workers were in tech. By 2019 it was 35%. The book traces how this happened: a city economically troubled in the early 1990s, still reeling from AIDS and the 1989 Loma Prieta earthquake, with its manufacturing base gone and its corporate headquarters thinning out. Into this vacuum came a group of free-thinking technologists immersed in the city’s creative counterculture. They invented the contemporary internet. What followed was one of the most rapid urban transformations in American history.
 
•       The Cacophony Society and the Founding of Burning Man: Before the tech boom, San Francisco in the early 1990s had a remarkable underground culture. Weber writes about the Cacophony Society — the group of anarchic free spirits who effectively founded the Burning Man festival. The Cacophony Society emerged from the counterculture of the 1960s through various evolutions — Situationist pranks, urban exploration, radical creativity. Burning Man began as their annual trip to the Black Rock Desert. The spirit of that founding: go somewhere, build something, be someone different, leave no trace. That spirit was the soul of the city too.
 
•       The City of Nostalgia: Always Believing Yesterday Was Better: Weber takes his Vertigo reference seriously. San Francisco is structurally a city of nostalgia — people arrive with a fixed idea of what the city is, and it inevitably becomes something different. The gap between the idea and the reality generates permanent mourning. This is not unique to San Francisco — Trump has built a presidency on the idea that things were better in the 1950s — but it is intensified here by the height of the hopes people bring. The city means something bigger than itself. That is both its greatest asset and its permanent wound.
 
•       The AI Boom and the Coming IPO Earthquake: The current AI boom is, in Weber’s reading, likely to be the largest yet. OpenAI and Anthropic are both based in the city. When those IPOs happen, San Francisco real estate — already rising 25–50% in some neighbourhoods, Andrew notes — will go, in Weber’s words, “really, really crazy again.” Hundreds of thousands of millionaires will be created overnight. The city is gradually becoming uniformly wealthy. Some of the old tensions may be less intense for that reason. But Weber does not think the cycles are over. The current boom will bust, as all booms do. What comes next is the question.
 
•       Burning Man, the Internet, and the Future of Cities: Weber ends the book at Burning Man. His closing observation: when the internet arrived on the playa, Burning Man lost the sense that it was a separate world — a place where you could be a different person, because nothing from your regular life could reach you. Now everyone has a phone. The privacy is gone. The sense of separation is gone. For cities: part of the power of cities is that they bring people together, and good things arise from that friction. But if technology no longer requires you to be in the same place, cities become less essential. What is the future of the city in the age of technology? Weber doesn’t have a tidy answer. Neither does anyone else.
 
About the Guest
 
Jonathan Weber is a veteran technology journalist and the author of City on the Edge: Technology, Politics, and the Fight for the Soul of San Francisco (Atria Books, June 9, 2026). He was the founding editor-in-chief of The Industry Standard, former editor-in-chief of the San Francisco Standard, and covered the technology industry for the Los Angeles Times. He lives in San Francisco.
 
References:
 
•       City on the Edge: Technology, Politics, and the Fight for the Soul of San Francisco by Jonathan Weber (Atria Books, June 9, 2026).
 
•       David Talbot, Season of the Witch: Enchantment, Terror, and Deliverance in the City of Love — referenced in the conversation; Weber’s recommended companion read on 1970s San Francisco.
 
•       Ezra Klein and Derek Thompson, Abundance — referenced in the closing exchange.
 
•       Joan Didion, Slouching Towards Bethlehem — the opening epigraph to Weber’s book, referenced in the conversation.
 
•       Alfred Hitchcock, Vertigo (1958) — Andrew’s reference; the film’s own meditation on San Francisco as a city of nostalgia.
 
About Keen On America
 
Nobody asks more awkward questions than the Anglo-American writer and filmmaker Andrew Keen. In Keen On America, Andrew brings his pointed Transatlantic wit to making sense of the United States — hosting daily interviews about the history and future of this now venerable Republic. With nearly 2,900 episodes since the show launched on TechCrunch in 2010, Keen On America is the most prolific intellectual interview show in the history of podcasting.
 
Website
Substack

“I never knew, and I was a bright kid. I didn’t know who the mayor of New York was, but I could tell you the names of all the mafia guys on the corner.” — Vincent Coppola
 
So we finally found a Coppola for the show. No, not Francis Ford. But somebody just as cool and even more authentic. The longtime Newsweek reporter Vincent Coppola grew up in Brooklyn three subway stops from Manhattan, but never went there until he was a teenager, nor even visited Central Park until his twenties. Coppola’s version of Brooklyn, a teeming Italian ghetto squeezed between the banks of the polluted Gowanus Canal, no longer exists. Except in his exquisitely rendered new memoir, Gowanus Crossing: A Brooklyn Boyhood, which has the most delicious story about an Easter pie recipe you’ll ever read.
 
The Brooklyn of Vinnie’s childhood was intact, insular, cut off from everywhere more than three stops away. It had its own government — the Mafia; its own religion — the Catholic Church; its own poisoned geography — the Gowanus Canal. A world inside a world. He didn’t know who the mayor of New York was, but he knew the name of every wise guy on every street corner. To a kid, Gowanus was a magical place. The grown Vinnie (now called Vincent), having crossed his own Rubicon to attend Columbia journalism school, describes it as a “toxic snow globe.” Brooklyn über alles. Or, more authentically, al primo posto. Especially now, when only a real Coppola can resurrect it.
 
Five Takeaways
 
•       A Toxic Snow Globe: Cut Off Three Stops from Manhattan: Coppola grew up in an Italian enclave on the Gowanus Canal — a waterway that was, unbeknownst to its residents, one of the most polluted in America. The community was so insular that Coppola — a bright, bookish kid — never went to Manhattan until he was a teenager, never visited Central Park until he was in his twenties, though he was three subway stops away. He knew the names of all the Mafia guys on the corner. He did not know who the mayor of New York was. A toxic snow globe: its own rules, its own government, its own religion. Intact and entirely cut off from the rest of the world.
 
•       The Mafia as Shadow Government: The Mafia was not background colour in Coppola’s childhood. It was the actual government. Police from the 78th Precinct pulled up to the social club on Sundays; officers walked in and walked out with brown paper bags full of cash. Squad cars ferried a hitman — the bodyguard of Carmine Persico — as if they were taxis. This corrupted any childlike innocence about institutions. The stereotype of the nice policeman, the honest cop, the beloved priest: none of them applied. Because they were poor, nobody cared. Nobody cared about the canal being polluted until real estate people came in.
 
•       The Predatory Priest and the Code of Silence: A local priest molested altar boys for decades, including Coppola’s best friend. Nobody in the community knew. Coppola’s observation: if the Mafia had known, they would have killed that man. It would have been that simple. Two oppressive codes of silence — the Mafia’s omertà and the Church’s own silence — operated in parallel. One protected criminals who were also community pillars. The other protected a predator. The community was too poor, too preoccupied, too isolated to see what was happening in front of their eyes.
 
•       The Easter Pie Recipe: A Story About Secrets and Mothers: One of the great set pieces of the book. Coppola was obsessed throughout his life with a specific Easter pastry — pizza di grano, a grain pie — that the old neighbourhood women made and would not share the recipe for. He worked for Newsweek, had access to chefs everywhere, could not reproduce it. At his mother’s funeral, an old neighbour pressed a piece of paper into his hand. Weeks later he found it in his jacket pocket and opened it. Not cash — the recipe. Written in Italian. Beginning: “under a full moon.” It was a hundred years old. He wasn’t going to be baking under full moons.
 
•       The Ghost Town: A Million-Dollar Desert: Coppola returned to Gowanus three weeks before the interview, invited to speak at a public library. His neighbourhood was blooming with skyscrapers and condominiums. And it was dead silent. When he grew up, the streets were teeming — children playing hopscotch, women gossiping on chairs outside, music, grilling on the corner, betting. He came back to a million-dollar ghost town. It broke his heart. The people he grew up with had been driven out — priced out of the place where they belonged. That is the elegy the book is writing. He hopes he preserved the best of that world.
 
About the Guest
 
Vincent Coppola is a journalist and the author of six books. A former reporter at Newsweek, he has written for Esquire, Rolling Stone, Men’s Journal, and Atlanta magazine. He is a 1977 honours graduate of the Columbia University Graduate School of Journalism. His essay on his mother’s battle with cancer won the William Allen White Gold Medal. He is the author of Gowanus Crossing: A Brooklyn Boyhood (Henry Holt, June 9, 2026). He lives in Savannah, Georgia.
 
References:
 
•       Gowanus Crossing: A Brooklyn Boyhood by Vincent Coppola (Henry Holt, June 9, 2026).
 
•       Frank McCourt, Angela’s Ashes — the publisher’s comparison: “Frank McCourt’s gimlet eye with the exuberant menace of a Scorsese movie.”
 
•       Carmine Persico — the mafioso boss referenced in the conversation; his bodyguard is a character in the book.
 
About Keen On America
 
Nobody asks more awkward questions than the Anglo-American writer and filmmaker Andrew Keen. In Keen On America, Andrew brings his pointed Transatlantic wit to making sense of the United States — hosting daily interviews about the history and future of this now venerable Republic. With nearly 2,900 episodes since the show launched on TechCrunch in 2010, Keen On America is the most prolific intellectual interview show in the history of podcasting.
 
Website
Substack
YouTube
Apple Podcasts
Spotify
 
Chapters:
 

(00:31) - Introduction: the Brooklyn of Whole Foods vs the Brooklyn of the Gowanus Canal

(01:20) - An Italian village plucked from the south of Italy and dropped in Brooklyn

(02:04) - Vince, did you ever really leave?

(02:27) - Stage four cancer: the trigger for the memoir

(03:11) - The Gowanus C...

“The hyperreal is the real. The surreal is the real in The United States. We’ve reached that point. The absurd is the real. And so that’s what I was trying to capture in the book.” — Ben Fountain
 
Our absurdist-in-chief wants a $250 banknote with his face on it. But the satirist Ben Fountain gives the President something even more valuable. In his new novel Rasputin Swims the Potomac, Fountain delivers something quite priceless: a book that Trump deserves.
 
In Fountain’s novel, a sitting president, running for a third term, enlists a world champion professional wrestler, Grigory Yefimovich Rasputin, to help secure his re-election. Born Patrick Walsh Strickland in Buffalo, New York, Rasputin served in special forces in Afghanistan and Iraq, spent six years in a monastery, became fluent in Russian, and claims to be a real Russian monk. Evangelicals start defecting to Rasputin. A pandemic of “weeping sickness” sweeps the nation. It’s almost as unbelievable as a sitting President wanting a $250 banknote glowing with his orange face.
 
Fountain’s parallels with late Tsarist Russia are hard to miss — the chasmic wealth inequality, the impossible get-rich schemes, the quack religions, the gilded decadence, the dying social classes, the mad politicians. It’s scary stuff. Fountain says that we should even be careful taking his summer novel to the beach. Rather than Jaws-dropping, Rasputin Swims the Potomac, he warns, might bite us back. Maybe we should put Ben Fountain’s face on that $250 bill.
 
Five Takeaways
 
•       The Hyperreal Is the Real: America Has Beaten Its Satirists: When Fountain sat down to write the book in early 2023, he was thinking about the blurring of the line between reality and fantasy in American life. Trump, throughout his career, has blurred that line to masterful effect. Fountain’s question: what would be the next step on that continuum? His answer: professional wrestling — famously fake, scripted, and yet real, happening in real flesh and blood. Suppose a wrestler ran for president as his wrestling persona, with the fake baked in and everyone knowing it’s fake. Suppose the country buys it. Because the hyperreal is the real. The surreal is the real. America has already reached that point.
 
•       Why Wrestling, Not Politics: Jesse Ventura — “Jesse the Body” — ran for governor of Minnesota and won. But he ran as Jesse Ventura himself. Fountain’s innovation: a wrestler who runs as his or her wrestling persona, with the character fully intact. Rasputin — born Patrick Walsh Strickland in Buffalo, special forces veteran, six years in a Russian monastery, world champion wrestler in Japan, legally changed name — never breaks character. He is the historical Rasputin, back from the dead, a holy man of the Russian Orthodox Church. Evangelicals start defecting to him because he’s speaking their language. The fake is the real.
 
•       Late Tsarist Russia and Contemporary America: Striking Parallels: Fountain read three or four biographies of the historical Rasputin. The deeper he got, the more striking the parallels. Late Tsarist Russia: extreme wealth inequality, get-rich schemes everywhere in St Petersburg and Moscow, quack religions and spiritualists plying their trade, extreme decadence among the upper classes. A social structure that could not be maintained. People’s emotional responses to chaos. Fountain: not just in material terms but in terms of how people were feeling, the parallels to the United States are really striking. Gogol, not Baudrillard, is his natural ancestor.
 
•       The Satirist as Realist: Andrew raises Baudrillard and hyper-realism. Fountain’s response: he is a realist down to his bones. Whatever he does, it has to be anchored in some fundamental sense in the real world, as he understands it. American life has become such that the surreal is the real, the comical is the real, the absurd is the real. He didn’t set out to write satire. He set out to write the story as genuinely and authentically as he could. The question of genre came afterwards, asked by other people. He is just a realist. It’s just that American reality is Rasputin swimming the Potomac.
 
•       Living in the Belly of the Beast: Dallas and North Carolina: Fountain lived in Dallas, Texas for forty-one years — what he calls the most American city of all, better and worse. In Dallas, the free market and capitalism are so much a part of daily consciousness that there’s very little awareness that there might be different ways of living. Fountain: it’s very conservative and very conservative. For someone to the left of Gandhi, his assumptions are always being challenged. He has to think about how he’s thinking about things. That productive discomfort — not Brooklyn, not Los Angeles — is where this book comes from.
 
About the Guest
 
Ben Fountain is the author of Rasputin Swims the Potomac (Flatiron Books, June 9, 2026), Billy Lynn’s Long Halftime Walk (National Book Critics Circle Award winner, National Book Award finalist), Beautiful Country Burn Again, and Brief Encounters with Che Guevara (PEN/Hemingway Award). He is the recipient of the Joyce Carol Oates Prize, the Thomas Wolfe Prize, and a Whiting Writers Award. He lives in New Bern, North Carolina.
 
References:
 
•       Rasputin Swims the Potomac by Ben Fountain (Flatiron Books, June 9, 2026). Named a Best Book of Summer by the LA Times, Kirkus, Publishers Weekly, Boston Globe, Newsday, and New York Post.
 
•       Billy Lynn’s Long Halftime Walk by Ben Fountain (2012) — the predecessor referenced throughout.
 
•       Beautiful Country Burn Again: Democracy, Rebellion, and Revolution by Ben Fountain (2018) — his 2016 election nonfiction, referenced in the conversation.
 
About Keen On America
 
Nobody asks more awkward questions than the Anglo-American writer and filmmaker Andrew Keen. In Keen On America, Andrew brings his pointed Transatlantic wit to making sense of the United States — hosting daily interviews about the history and future of this now venerable Republic. With nearly 2,900 episodes since the show launched on TechCrunch in 2010, Keen On America is the most prolific intellectual interview show in the history of podcasting.
 
Website
Substack
YouTube
Apple Podcasts
Spotify
 
Chapters:
 

(...

“The United States has conducted an unusually ideological foreign policy, an unusually economic foreign policy, and an unusually democratic foreign policy. These three features have been present from the eighteenth century to the present.” — Michael Mandelbaum
 
Is there an “American way” of foreign policy? Does that make the now almost 250 year-old republic unique? Michael Mandelbaum, author of The American Way of Foreign Policy: Ideology, Economics, Democracy, says yes and no. America is exceptional. But that exceptionalism is unexceptional.
 
Mandelbaum says that American foreign policy over the last 250 years has been unusually ideological, economic, and democratic. Foreign policy realists say great powers all behave the same way. Mandelbaum, as an idealist, says: not America. Uniquely in world history, he says, America has pursued its principles overseas without prioritising its political, economic, or military self-interest.
 
And yet The American Way of Foreign Policy isn’t triumphalist. Mandelbaum opposed NATO expansion in the 1990s. He was in the anti-Vietnam marches as a Harvard student in the Sixties. Nor is he partial to demonstrations of overt nationalism. His July 4 plans, for example, are to watch baseball. As a lucky man in a fortunate Republic, what better way to celebrate 250 years of independence than to enjoy its national pastime?
 
Five Takeaways
 
•       Three Distinctive Features: Ideological, Economic, Democratic: Mandelbaum’s thesis: American foreign policy has differed from the foreign policies of other countries in three enduring ways. First, ideological: political ideas and the effort to spread them have been more important to America than to other powers. Second, economic: America has used economic instruments to achieve political goals — trade, aid, sanctions — rather than the imperial model of using political power for economic gain. Third, democratic: American public opinion has always had greater influence over foreign policy than in other countries. For almost all other countries, for most of their histories, foreign policy was the preserve of a small elite. That was never true of the United States.
 
•       Idealist and Realist: Both Apply: Andrew invokes Kenneth Waltz and the realist tradition, which argues that great powers always behave the same way regardless of their self-image. Mandelbaum’s response: realism fits American foreign policy up to a point. America has fought twelve significant wars and has not been oblivious to military power. But it has also conducted idealist foreign policies that cannot be explained by realism — policies driven by its liberal political ideas rather than its material interests. The distinctive feature of American foreign policy is not that it ignores realism, but that it goes beyond realism in ways that other great powers have not.
 
•       NATO Expansion: Mandelbaum’s One Big Regret: In the 1990s, Mandelbaum was opposed to the expansion of NATO, alongside George Kennan — one of the architects of Cold War containment. His fear: it would do a lot to alienate Russia. He acknowledges that he cannot blame NATO expansion explicitly for the Russian attack on Ukraine. But he notes that the fear was reasonable and that, as he puts it, alas, it has come to pass. He does not think that the Russian attack was inevitable or that NATO caused it. But he does think the warning was worth issuing and that it deserved more serious consideration than it received.
 
•       Vietnam and the Antiwar Movement: Was It Counterproductive? As a graduate student at Harvard under Stanley Hoffmann, Mandelbaum was opposed to Vietnam and took part in marches. He has since revised his views — not on whether Vietnam was a mistake (it was) but on whether the antiwar movement had any positive effect on the course of policy. His conclusion: it probably didn’t, and may have been perverse. Nixon used the antiwar movement as a foil. The war ended because most Americans decided it was costing too much in American lives — not because the goals were wrong. That was the democratic aspect of American foreign policy in action.
 
•       Israel, Gaza, and the American Way: Andrew suggests that Israel has been able to push America around, and that this is “un-American.” Mandelbaum pushes back firmly. America supports Israel for two reasons: strategic advantage (Israel as a bulwark against threats to American interests in the Middle East) and shared values (Israel is the only country in the region that shares American political values). When interests diverged — the 1980s anti-aircraft arms sale, Obama’s Iran deal — America went its own way. The reverse is also true: America doesn’t have the capacity to push Israel around in Gaza, because for Israel these are matters of national survival.
 
About the Guest
 
Michael Mandelbaum is the Christian A. Herter Professor Emeritus of American Foreign Policy at the Johns Hopkins University School of Advanced International Studies. He previously taught at Harvard, Columbia, and the US Naval Academy, and was a Senior Fellow at the Council on Foreign Relations. He holds a BA from Yale, an MA from King’s College Cambridge, and a PhD from Harvard. He is the author or co-author of thirteen books, including The American Way of Foreign Policy: Ideology, Economics, Democracy (Oxford University Press, April 2026) and The Four Ages of American Foreign Policy: Weak Power, Great Power, Superpower, Hyperpower. He lives in the Washington DC suburbs.
 
References:
 
•       The American Way of Foreign Policy: Ideology, Economics, Democracy by Michael Mandelbaum (Oxford University Press, April 2026).
 
•       The Four Ages of American Foreign Policy: Weak Power, Great Power, Superpower, Hyperpower by Michael Mandelbaum — referenced in the conversation.
 
•       Kenneth Waltz and the realist school of international relations — referenced at the opening.
 
•       Ernst Haas and the idealist school — referenced at the opening; Andrew’s teachers at Berkeley.
 
•       George Kennan — referenced as Mandelbaum’s fellow opponent of NATO expansion in the 1990s.
 
•       Stanley Hoffmann — Mandelbaum’s Harvard PhD supervisor, referenced at the close.
 
About Keen On America
 
Nobody asks more awkward questions than the Anglo-American writer and filmmaker Andrew Keen. In Keen On America, Andrew brings his pointed Transatlantic wit to making sense of the United States — hosting daily interviews about the history and future of this now venerable Republic. With nearly ...