The Inner Monologue

Most people don’t know that I see the world less as a collection of moments and more as a series of hypotheses. Every opinion I hold started as a question, every belief as an experiment. I’ve spent years testing ideas about economics, politics, technology, and human behavior—not to prove I’m right, but to see what still holds up after being torn apart.

I think in systems, not snapshots. Whether it’s how a federal budget ripple reaches a Nebraska cornfield, or how planned development collapses under its own optimism, I’m always looking for the hidden mechanism—the unseen cause behind what most people take at face value.

And though I write op-eds and analyses that sound confident, that voice comes from curiosity, not certainty. The truth is, I don’t write because I have answers. I write because I’m trying to make sense of a world that rarely adds up cleanly. That’s something most people don’t realize about me: beneath every strong argument is a question I’m still trying to understand.