LA’s mayoral runoff exposes America’s democratic decay—and Britain’s quiet role

Karen Bass’s narrow victory in LA’s primary reveals a broken system—one Britain helped export. From gerrymandering to dark money, how the UK’s political playbook fuels US dysfunction.

LA’s mayoral runoff exposes America’s democratic decay—and Britain’s quiet role
Photo by Eugene Zhyvchik on Unsplash

When democracy becomes a reality show

Los Angeles just held a primary that felt less like an election and more like a bad spin-off of The Apprentice. Karen Bass, the incumbent mayor, failed to secure a majority—despite running a city where she’s been the face of local government for nearly two years. Instead, she’ll face either a reality TV star or a city council member in November. The message? In America’s second-largest city, governing experience is optional. Celebrity is currency. And democracy is a spectator sport.

This isn’t just an LA problem. It’s a symptom of a system rotting from the inside—one that Britain helped design, export, and now quietly profits from. The UK’s fingerprints are all over America’s democratic decay: from the dark money sloshing through US campaigns to the gerrymandered districts that make elections feel like foregone conclusions. And as Bass scrambles to defend her seat against a challenger who once starred in The Hills, it’s worth asking: when did politics become just another branch of the entertainment industry?

The answer lies in the same forces that gave us Brexit, Boris Johnson’s circus, and the UK’s own slide into performative populism. America didn’t invent this mess alone. It learned from the best.


The British playbook: how to break a democracy (and sell the pieces)

Britain’s role in America’s democratic unravelling isn’t just historical—it’s structural. The UK’s political consulting industry, worth billions, has spent decades exporting its expertise in voter suppression, data manipulation, and campaign theatrics. Firms like Cambridge Analytica (remember them?) didn’t just meddle in US elections; they refined their tactics in British campaigns first, testing how far they could push the boundaries of truth before voters stopped caring.

Now, the playbook has evolved. The new frontier? Prediction markets. George Santos, the disgraced former congressman, is reportedly under investigation for allegedly betting on his own attendance at Trump’s State of the Union. If true, it’s a perfect storm of British-style political gambling and American grift. The UK’s spread-betting culture—where politicians and pundits routinely wager on election outcomes—has crossed the Atlantic, turning democracy into just another casino game.

And let’s not forget the money. The UK’s network of offshore tax havens launders the dark cash that fuels US campaigns, while British PR firms whitewash the reputations of American oligarchs and politicians alike. The result? A political system where the highest bidder wins, and the public is left watching from the sidelines.


AI’s indie revolution: when film-making becomes a $2,000 gamble

While LA’s political circus plays out, another revolution is unfolding in the shadows. Dreams of Violets, a film about Iran’s anti-government protests, just became the first AI-generated movie to screen at Tribeca. Its director, Ash Koosha, made it in weeks—for $2,000. The implications are staggering.

This isn’t just about technology. It’s about power. For decades, film-making was a gatekept industry, controlled by studios and financiers who decided whose stories got told. AI is blowing those gates wide open. But at what cost? If a film can be made in weeks for the price of a used car, what happens to the artists, technicians, and crews who spent years honing their craft? And when anyone can generate a movie with a prompt, how do we distinguish between art and algorithm?

The UK, with its struggling film industry and Tory-led austerity cuts, should be paying attention. AI could either democratise storytelling—or turn it into another gig economy, where creators are paid in exposure while tech giants reap the profits.


Britain’s quiet betrayals: the scandals you’re not supposed to notice

While America’s democratic circus dominates headlines, Britain is quietly failing its own citizens in ways that rarely make the front page.

Take prostate cancer screening. The UK just expanded a trial to include more Black men—a group disproportionately affected by the disease. But the government still refuses to back population-wide testing, hiding behind the flimsy excuse of "following the science." The real reason? Money. Screening costs. False positives cost more. And in a system where the NHS is stretched thinner by the day, lives are being weighed against budgets.

Then there’s the IVF scandal. A BBC investigation uncovered couples in Cyprus who were given the wrong sperm—only to discover their "siblings" weren’t biologically related. The UK’s fertility industry isn’t much better. With minimal regulation and sky-high costs, desperate couples are left at the mercy of clinics that treat them like customers, not patients.

And let’s not forget the cringe economy. Gen Z’s fear of being "cringe" isn’t just a meme—it’s a cultural crisis. The constant surveillance of social media has turned self-expression into a minefield. Dance in public? Risk being recorded and mocked. Show enthusiasm? Prepare for the backlash. Britain’s obsession with irony and detachment has seeped into its youth, creating a generation too afraid to be sincere.


What’s next: the battles that will define the year

LA’s mayoral runoff isn’t just a local election—it’s a preview of America’s political future. If Bass loses, it won’t just be a rejection of her leadership. It’ll be a victory for the forces that have turned democracy into a reality show: celebrity, spectacle, and cynicism. And Britain, with its own history of political theatre, will be watching closely—because the playbook is the same on both sides of the Atlantic.

Meanwhile, the AI film revolution is just getting started. Tribeca’s decision to screen Dreams of Violets is a watershed moment. But it’s also a warning. If tech giants and studios co-opt this innovation, indie film-makers could find themselves back where they started: fighting for scraps.

And in the UK, the quiet scandals will keep piling up. Prostate cancer screening, IVF regulation, the cringe economy—these aren’t just policy failures. They’re symptoms of a system that’s given up on solving problems, preferring instead to manage the fallout.

The question is: when will we stop watching and start demanding better?