Uber Security Covered Massive Breach, Bribed Hackers With $100k

What happened?

Uber fired its chief security officer and another employee this week following a huge data breach the ride-sharing company has been hiding for a year. Former head of security Joe Sullivan reportedly led the response to the hack, which happened when two attackers tapped Uber employees’ Github and Amazon Web Services information to steal a trove of rider and driver data. The company’s “solution” was not to report the breach properly and to give the hackers $100,000 purportedly in exchange for deleting the data.

How bad is it?

The hackers stole information about 57 million customers and drivers, including around 600,000 driver’s license numbers. The hacked data included names, email addresses and phone numbers, but Uber says the hack didn’t get Social Security numbers, credit cards or data about your location during trips.

Seems like a mess.

Uber has been here before. The company was hacked in 2014 and fined $20,000 for failing to disclose the security leak. While negotiating with the feds for a privacy settlement, Uber was simultaneously trying to pay $100K to hackers in exchange for deleting info about 57 million people.

This article provided courtesy of TheBlaze.

DOC: What would you do if you ran Uber? How would you handle the news that hackers got the personal information on 57 million customers and employees? What would you do if you were an investor in the company and you had discovered that managers hid that breach from the public, including those people who had their information stolen, customers, employees?

Think about that a moment. You ran the place. How would you handle that? How would you have handled it before, when you just found out about the hack? How would you handle it now after you found out that people tried to cover it up?

Hi there, it's Doc Thompson. I'm in for Glenn today. There's a specific reason why I'm asking you how you would handle it. And I'll open up the phone lines in a couple of minutes. 888-727-BECK. I'll also check out some of the tweets you sent to the program.

It's @DocThompsonshow. But there's a specific reason I really want to get your thoughts on this. Challenge yourself for a moment. What would you do if you ran Uber? Now, you're probably thinking to yourself, well, I wouldn't let it get to this point.

Let me explain what happened. Let me give you the details. And I challenge you to challenge yourself and come up with an answer in your own head, maybe share it with somebody that's next to you right now. Discuss it with them. And there's a reason I'm asking, that I'll get to in a moment.

Let me give you the details. More than a year ago, hackers got access to Uber's database. And they stole the personal information of about 50 million Uber users. If you used Uber, it may have been you. Name, email addresses, phone numbers. This is what they say they got access to. 50 million users.

And they got personal information of about 7 million Uber drivers. That includes about 600,000 driver's licenses.

So if you're a driver, you may have gotten that information that way, including your driver's license and number. Now, they claim that no Social Security numbers were breached. No credit cards were breached. They didn't get that information. But come on.

Come on. They got all that other stuff. Can we really believe them, knowing that for a year, they didn't tell anyone about this? Even the people affected. Isn't that a moral breakdown, if not a legal breakdown? I would think so. Is it right that they wouldn't tell the people affected by it?

Now, I know why. They're trying to protect the company. And I can respect that on a certain level. But don't you care about your customers. I'm not blaming you for the breach. There could have been problems. Maybe you did everything you could. Through no fault of your own. There was no failure of security. But they got the information. Not blaming you for that. I'm blaming you for the cover-up and why you didn't share it. I understand protecting the company.

What would you do if you were an investor right now in that company? Because as an investor, it's your company. You run that company. You own it. Yeah, there's managers. CEOs. CFOs. Different, you know, people that run it on a daily basis. But you own the company. Ultimately, the buck stops with you and the other investors. What would you you do if you ran the company?

Uber even said they had a legal obligation to report the hack to regulators and to the drivers whose information was stolen. But they didn't.

They didn't do it. In fact, when this breach happened, Uber was at the time negotiating with federal regulators about other privacy violation.

So they knew of this. It was on their front burner. This is what they were dealing with. Then suddenly the breach happens. And they start covering it up. Uber paid other hackers to delete the data and keep the breach quiet, just to cover it up. What would you do now, knowing that, if you were an investor?

The new CEO, Dara (sound effect), pretty sure that's how you pronounce her name, she said, none of this should have happened, and I will not make excuses for it. We're changing the way we do business.

Good. I'd like some details. But good, good.

She said, at the time of the incident, we took immediate steps to secure the data and shut down further unauthorized access. Good, good.

Good. That sounds great. But what specifically are you going to do moving forward? And who will be punished? See, as an investor, if you owned, even in part, that company, I would want people held accountable, if there were things done wrong.

Obviously, the cover-up, that was wrong. I would want specific, real examples. I want a definitive plan of what you're going to do moving forward to make sure that doesn't happen again, right? Is that what you would want?

Would you want people to be held accountable, and you want to know specifically what will change in the future? That's what I would want too.

The reason I asked that is because you may not be an owner of Uber. You may not own stock. But you do own the Veterans Administration. You and I own it.

We're American citizens. We have a contractural and moral obligation to do what we said we would do, and that is to care for veterans. And I bring that up because the Veterans Administration has failed far more. And continues to fail far more than Uber ever has.

The Veterans Administration exposed millions of veterans' information, repeatedly. Over and over again, over the last 15 years or so. They have done virtually what Uber did.

Again, they were hacked. The information. At one point, there was a database stolen. Over and over again, the Veterans Administration has been sloppy. Uber may not have even been sloppy with it. The way theirs was breached, two hackers got access to a coding site. So maybe they were sloppy or not, but the Veterans Administration has been sloppy. You own that company. So if you said what I would do if an owner of Uber, I would make sure that people were held accountable and I would want a plan for the future. Who has been held accountable? What is the plan for the future?

Over and over again, the Veterans Administration has failed us. But it's far worse than breaching private information. There's a new inspector general report this morning about the Veterans Administration.

And it confirms, among other things, that the Veterans Administration facility in Denver has been lying about wait times that track mental health care.

How many times do we have to read about this, as the owners, the people, who are ultimately in charge of saying what is right and wrong within our government? How many times do we have to hear about these stories, before we actually hold people accountable? And before we actually get a working plan for the future?

This has happened over and over again. Most recently, a former VA employee, by the name of Brian Smother claimed that the staff in Denver kept separate lists. The same thing that we had.

KRIS: We've heard that before.

DOC: Over and over again. Kris Cruz from The Morning Blaze joining me as well, who is a combat veteran, having served both in Iraq and Afghanistan, who suffers with PTSD, who has had his ankles replaced.

Kris, over and over again, this was the story. This was the big fail out of Phoenix, as a matter of fact, where veterans died. It had to do with the wait times. Number one, the failure is that veterans do not get the timely service that they need. The timely appointments that they need. But then covering it up. They covered up the wait times and had a separate list.

KRIS: It's infuriating.

DOC: I don't know what else it takes. How many times do we have to hear these stories?

KRIS: And not just that. I tried -- Doc, I'm not the most healthy person out there.

DOC: Well, I think anyone that listens to The Morning Blaze knows that.

KRIS: Exactly. And one of the things, I have an issue with my heart burn. I get heart burns in the morning, and it's frustrating.

DOC: But it's chronic. And it's almost debilitating.

KRIS: Exactly. So I was like, you know what, I got to get this shot. I don't want to have an ulcer or something wrong with me. Because my body is telling me, hey, there's something wrong with me.

DOC: Too much acid.

KRIS: Exactly.

I called the VA in Orlando, Florida. And I was like, hey, I'm scared. You know, the syntax is no longer working. What can I do?

DOC: You got in and out, right?

KRIS: You can come in.

DOC: Oh, good job.

KRIS: February of the next year. And I was calling --

DOC: Were you calling in January?

KRIS: No, I was calling in July of the year before.

DOC: So you called in July, and they said, great, come in.

DOC: In February.

KRIS: In February. For something that I -- that I'm worried because I got heartburn every single morning.

DOC: Like excessive.

KRIS: Excessive.

And the medication says, if it prolongs two weeks or more, please contact your doctor because it could be something serious.

DOC: So they said -- this is happening. And if this happens for more than two weeks, contact your doctor. And you contact. And they're like, great. February.

KRIS: Great. We'll see you in February of 2017.

DOC: Hey. Wow. That's good.

KRIS: And I was like, are you kidding me?

They're like, oh, we're busy. But if somebody cancels, we'll call you.

DOC: Who is canceling? When everybody is backlogged nine months?

KRIS: I was like, nobody is going to cancel.

DOC: This is infuriating. Think about when I asked you about owning Uber. Maybe you own a business. What if your kids acted this way -- what if the guy who cuts your lawn. Maybe you're not a business owner, but you employ people to do things from time to time around your house. Your veteran area and your dentist. Whatever it is.

If this is how they treated you and your information, you would demand accountability. And you would demand an answer moving forward, or you would, what? No longer do business with them.

I think it's time we no longer do business with the Veterans Administration. It is time. It is shutdown.

Now, veterans out there, don't for a moment think I abandon you. I'm not suggesting that we shut it down and leave all of you. No. It is a slow shutdown, rolling out over the next four or whatever years it takes, at the same time, offering veterans another plan, where the United States government -- and by that, I mean American citizens pick up your health care fees. That's it.

There's the solution. We don't need all of these people working within the administration. We don't levels and levels of bureaucracy. We need money in the hands of those veterans, so they can get an insurance policy and go to the doctor. There are doctors everywhere, doctors that you can get in today, if you're not in the Veterans Administration.

The veterans would be able to pick whatever doctor they want. That is the accountability. I'm calling for it now. Over and over. Breaches of security. Veterans being killed. Secret wait lists. This continues to happen. And nobody is offering a solution. You want a solution. Here's the solution: results. We demand results.

No more left versus right, Democrat, Republican, unions or any of that crap. Results. All I want to hear is results.

You get in the debate with somebody. You're at Thanksgiving tomorrow, and it comes up. What are the results?

What has happened? What are the results? Well, we fired -- what were the results? Well, we got a new director. What were the results?

This is not two years of results we can look at. We can look at the last 50, 60. The Veterans Administration has been around since the 1930s. Prior to that, the Veterans Bureau for 10 years, and they failed. Over and over again. Every couple of years. Massive failures. What are the results? All I want, what are the results?

We've got a track record of continuous failure. What are the results? Great. There's no denying that.

Now, moving forward, if it is anything like we continue to do, well, we're going to get a new -- no, that hasn't worked. We'll change -- that hasn't worked. Shut it down. Give veterans the money or the policies they need to get the health care. And then get out of the way.

Trump v. Slaughter: The Deep State on trial

JIM WATSON / Contributor | Getty Images

The administrative state has long operated as an unelected super-government. Trump v. Slaughter may be the moment voters reclaim authority over their own institutions.

Washington is watching and worrying about a U.S. Supreme Court case that could very well define the future of American self-government. And I don’t say that lightly. At the center of Trump v. Slaughter is a deceptively simple question: Can the president — the one official chosen by the entire nation — remove the administrators and “experts” who wield enormous, unaccountable power inside the executive branch?

This isn’t a technical fight. It’s not a paperwork dispute. It’s a turning point. Because if the answer is no, then the American people no longer control their own government. Elections become ceremonial. The bureaucracy becomes permanent. And the Constitution becomes a suggestion rather than the law of the land.

A government run by experts instead of elected leaders is not a republic. It’s a bureaucracy with a voting booth bolted onto the front to make us feel better.

That simply cannot be. Justice Neil Gorsuch summed it up perfectly during oral arguments on Monday: “There is no such thing in our constitutional order as a fourth branch of government that’s quasi-judicial and quasi-legislative.”

Yet for more than a century, the administrative state has grown like kudzu — quietly, relentlessly, and always in one direction. Today we have a fourth branch of government: unelected, unaccountable, insulated from consequence. Congress hands off lawmaking to agencies. Presidents arrive with agendas, but the bureaucrats remain, and they decide what actually gets done.

If the Supreme Court decides that presidents cannot fire the very people who execute federal power, they are not just rearranging an org chart. The justices are rewriting the structure of the republic. They are confirming what we’ve long feared: Here, the experts rule, not the voters.

A government run by experts instead of elected leaders is not a republic. It’s a bureaucracy with a voting booth bolted onto the front to make us feel better.

The founders warned us

The men who wrote the Constitution saw this temptation coming. Alexander Hamilton and James Madison in the Federalist Papers hammered home the same principle again and again: Power must remain traceable to the people. They understood human nature far too well. They knew that once administrators are protected from accountability, they will accumulate power endlessly. It is what humans do.

That’s why the Constitution vests the executive power in a single president — someone the entire nation elects and can unelect. They did not want a managerial council. They did not want a permanent priesthood of experts. They wanted responsibility and authority to live in one place so the people could reward or replace it.

So this case will answer a simple question: Do the people still govern this country, or does a protected class of bureaucrats now run the show?

Not-so-expert advice

Look around. The experts insisted they could manage the economy — and produced historic debt and inflation.

The experts insisted they could run public health — and left millions of Americans sick, injured, and dead while avoiding accountability.

The experts insisted they could steer foreign policy — and delivered endless conflict with no measurable benefit to our citizens.

And through it all, they stayed. Untouched, unelected, and utterly unapologetic.

If a president cannot fire these people, then you — the voter — have no ability to change the direction of your own government. You can vote for reform, but you will get the same insiders making the same decisions in the same agencies.

That is not self-government. That is inertia disguised as expertise.

A republic no more?

A monarchy can survive a permanent bureaucracy. A dictatorship can survive a permanent bureaucracy. A constitutional republic cannot. Not for long anyway.

We are supposed to live in a system where the people set the course, Congress writes the laws, and the president carries them out. When agencies write their own rules, judges shield them from oversight, and presidents are forbidden from removing them, we no longer live in that system. We live in something else — something the founders warned us about.

And the people become spectators of their own government.

JIM WATSON / Contributor | Getty Images

The path forward

Restoring the separation of powers does not mean rejecting expertise. It means returning expertise to its proper role: advisory, not sovereign.

No expert should hold power that voters cannot revoke. No agency should drift beyond the reach of the executive. No bureaucracy should be allowed to grow branches the Constitution never gave it.

The Supreme Court now faces a choice that will shape American life for a generation. It can reinforce the Constitution, or it can allow the administrative state to wander even farther from democratic control.

This case isn’t about President Trump. It isn’t about Rebecca Slaughter, the former Federal Trade Commission official suing to get her job back. It’s about whether elections still mean anything — whether the American people still hold the reins of their own government.

That is what is at stake: not procedure, not technicalities, but the survival of a system built on the revolutionary idea that the citizens — not the experts — are the ones who rule.

This article originally appeared on TheBlaze.com.

1 in 20 Canadians die by MAID—Is this 'compassion'?

Vaughn Ridley / Stringer | Getty Images

Medical assistance in dying isn’t health care. It’s the moment a Western democracy decided some lives aren’t worth saving, and it’s a warning sign we can’t ignore.

Canada loves to lecture America about compassion. Every time a shooting makes the headlines, Canadian commentators cannot wait to discuss how the United States has a “culture of death” because we refuse to regulate guns the way enlightened nations supposedly do.

But north of our border, a very different crisis is unfolding — one that is harder to moralize because it exposes a deeper cultural failure.

A society that no longer recognizes the value of life will not long defend freedom, dignity, or moral order.

The Canadian government is not only permitting death, but it’s also administering, expanding, and redefining it as “medical care.” Medical assistance in dying is no longer a rare, tragic exception. It has become one of the country’s leading causes of death, offered to people whose problems are treatable, whose conditions are survivable, and whose value should never have been in question.

In Canada, MAID is now responsible for nearly 5% of all deaths — 1 out of every 20 citizens. And this is happening in a country that claims the moral high ground over American gun violence. Canada now records more deaths per capita from doctors administering lethal drugs than America records from firearms. Their number is 37.9 deaths per 100,000 people. Ours is 13.7. Yet we are the country supposedly drowning in a “culture of death.”

No lecture from abroad can paper over this fact: Canada has built a system where eliminating suffering increasingly means eliminating the sufferer.

Choosing death over care

One example of what Canada now calls “compassion” is the case of Jolene Bond, a woman suffering from a painful but treatable thyroid condition that causes dangerously high calcium levels, bone deterioration, soft-tissue damage, nausea, and unrelenting pain. Her condition is severe, but it is not terminal. Surgery could help her. And in a functioning medical system, she would have it.

But Jolene lives under socialized medicine. The specialists she needs are either unavailable, overrun with patients, or blocked behind bureaucratic requirements she cannot meet. She cannot get a referral. She cannot get an appointment. She cannot reach the doctor in another province who is qualified to perform the operation. Every pathway to treatment is jammed by paperwork, shortages, and waitlists that stretch into the horizon and beyond.

Yet the Canadian government had something else ready for her — something immediate.

They offered her MAID.

Not help, not relief, not a doctor willing to drive across a provincial line and simply examine her. Instead, Canada offered Jolene a state-approved death. A lethal injection is easier to obtain than a medical referral. Killing her would be easier than treating her. And the system calls that compassion.

Bureaucracy replaces medicine

Jolene’s story is not an outlier. It is the logical outcome of a system that cannot keep its promises. When the machinery of socialized medicine breaks down, the state simply replaces care with a final, irreversible “solution.” A bureaucratic checkbox becomes the last decision of a person’s life.

Canada insists its process is rigorous, humane, and safeguarded. Yet the bureaucracy now reviewing Jolene’s case is not asking how she can receive treatment; it is asking whether she has enough signatures to qualify for a lethal injection. And the debate among Canadian officials is not how to preserve life, but whether she has met the paperwork threshold to end it.

This is the dark inversion that always emerges when the state claims the power to decide when life is no longer worth living. Bureaucracy replaces conscience. Eligibility criteria replace compassion. A panel of physicians replaces the family gathered at a bedside. And eventually, the “right” to die becomes an expectation — especially for those who are poor, elderly, or alone.

Joe Raedle / Staff | Getty Images

The logical end of a broken system

We ignore this lesson at our own peril. Canada’s health care system is collapsing under demographic pressure, uncontrolled migration, and the unavoidable math of government-run medicine.

When the system breaks, someone must bear the cost. MAID has become the release valve.

The ideology behind this system is already drifting south. In American medical journals and bioethics conferences, you will hear this same rhetoric. The argument is always dressed in compassion. But underneath, it reduces the value of human life to a calculation: Are you useful? Are you affordable? Are you too much of a burden?

The West was built on a conviction that every human life has inherent value. That truth gave us hospitals before it gave us universities. It gave us charity before it gave us science. It is written into the Declaration of Independence.

Canada’s MAID program reveals what happens when a country lets that foundation erode. Life becomes negotiable, and suffering becomes a justification for elimination.

A society that no longer recognizes the value of life will not long defend freedom, dignity, or moral order. If compassion becomes indistinguishable from convenience, and if medicine becomes indistinguishable from euthanasia, the West will have abandoned the very principles that built it. That is the lesson from our northern neighbor — a warning, not a blueprint.

This article originally appeared on TheBlaze.com.

A Sharia enclave is quietly taking root in America. It's time to wake up.

NOVA SAFO / Staff | Getty Images

Sharia-based projects like the Meadow in Texas show how political Islam grows quietly, counting on Americans to stay silent while an incompatible legal system takes root.

Apolitical system completely incompatible with the Constitution is gaining ground in the United States, and we are pretending it is not happening.

Sharia — the legal and political framework of Islam — is being woven into developments, institutions, and neighborhoods, including a massive project in Texas. And the consequences will be enormous if we continue to look the other way.

This is the contradiction at the heart of political Islam: It claims universal authority while insisting its harshest rules will never be enforced here. That promise does not stand up to scrutiny. It never has.

Before we can have an honest debate, we’d better understand what Sharia represents. Sharia is not simply a set of religious rules about prayer or diet. It is a comprehensive legal and political structure that governs marriage, finance, criminal penalties, and civic life. It is a parallel system that claims supremacy wherever it takes hold.

This is where the distinction matters. Many Muslims in America want nothing to do with Sharia governance. They came here precisely because they lived under it. But political Islam — the movement that seeks to implement Sharia as law — is not the same as personal religious belief.

It is a political ideology with global ambitions, much like communism. Secretary of State Marco Rubio recently warned that Islamist movements do not seek peaceful coexistence with the West. They seek dominance. History backs him up.

How Sharia arrives

Political Islam does not begin with dramatic declarations. It starts quietly, through enclaves that operate by their own rules. That is why the development once called EPIC City — now rebranded as the Meadow — is so concerning. Early plans framed it as a Muslim-only community built around a mega-mosque and governed by Sharia-compliant financing. After state investigations were conducted, the branding changed, but the underlying intent remained the same.

Developers have openly described practices designed to keep non-Muslims out, using fees and ownership structures to create de facto religious exclusivity. This is not assimilation. It is the construction of a parallel society within a constitutional republic.

The warning from those who have lived under it

Years ago, local imams in Texas told me, without hesitation, that certain Sharia punishments “just work.” They spoke about cutting off hands for theft, stoning adulterers, and maintaining separate standards of testimony for men and women. They insisted it was logical and effective while insisting they would never attempt to implement it in Texas.

But when pressed, they could not explain why a system they consider divinely mandated would suddenly stop applying once someone crossed a border.

This is the contradiction at the heart of political Islam: It claims universal authority while insisting its harshest rules will never be enforced here. That promise does not stand up to scrutiny. It never has.

AASHISH KIPHAYET / Contributor | Getty Images

America is vulnerable

Europe is already showing us where this road leads. No-go zones, parallel courts, political intimidation, and clerics preaching supremacy have taken root across major cities.

America’s strength has always come from its melting pot, but assimilation requires boundaries. It requires insisting that the Constitution, not religious law, is the supreme authority on this soil.

Yet we are becoming complacent, even fearful, about saying so. We mistake silence for tolerance. We mistake avoidance for fairness. Meanwhile, political Islam views this hesitation as weakness.

Religious freedom is one of America’s greatest gifts. Muslims may worship freely here, as they should. But political Islam must not be permitted to plant a flag on American soil. The Constitution cannot coexist with a system that denies equal rights, restricts speech, subordinates women, and places clerical authority above civil law.

Wake up before it is too late

Projects like the Meadow are not isolated. They are test runs, footholds, proofs of concept. Political Islam operates with patience. It advances through demographic growth, legal ambiguity, and cultural hesitation — and it counts on Americans being too polite, too distracted, or too afraid to confront it.

We cannot afford that luxury. If we fail to defend the principles that make this country free, we will one day find ourselves asking how a parallel system gained power right in front of us. The answer will be simple: We looked away.

The time to draw boundaries and to speak honestly is now. The time to defend the Constitution as the supreme law of the land is now. Act while there is still time.

This article originally appeared on TheBlaze.com.

The Crisis of Meaning: Searching for truth and purpose

Mario Tama / Staff | Getty Images

Anxiety, anger, and chronic dissatisfaction signal a country searching for meaning. Without truth and purpose, politics becomes a dangerous substitute for identity.

We have built a world overflowing with noise, convenience, and endless choice, yet something essential has slipped out of reach. You can sense it in the restless mood of the country, the anxiety among young people who cannot explain why they feel empty, in the angry confusion that dominates our politics.

We have more wealth than any nation in history, but the heart of the culture feels strangely malnourished. Before we can debate debt or elections, we must confront the reality that we created a world of things, but not a world of purpose.

You cannot survive a crisis you refuse to name, and you cannot rebuild a world whose foundations you no longer understand.

What we are living through is not just economic or political dysfunction. It is the vacuum that appears when a civilization mistakes abundance for meaning.

Modern life is stuffed with everything except what the human soul actually needs. We built systems to make life faster, easier, and more efficient — and then wondered why those systems cannot teach our children who they are, why they matter, or what is worth living for.

We tell the next generation to chase success, influence, and wealth, turning childhood into branding. We ask kids what they want to do, not who they want to be. We build a world wired for dopamine rather than dignity, and then we wonder why so many people feel unmoored.

When everything is curated, optimized, and delivered at the push of a button, the question “what is my life for?” gets lost in the static.

The crisis beneath the headlines

It is not just the young who feel this crisis. Every part of our society is straining under the weight of meaninglessness.

Look at the debt cycle — the mathematical fate no civilization has ever escaped once it crosses a threshold that we seem to have already blown by. While ordinary families feel the pressure, our leaders respond with distraction, with denial, or by rewriting the very history that could have warned us.

You cannot survive a crisis you refuse to name, and you cannot rebuild a world whose foundations you no longer understand.

We have entered a cultural moment where the noise is so loud that it drowns out the simplest truths. We are living in a country that no longer knows how to hear itself think.

So people go searching. Some drift toward the false promise of socialism, some toward the empty thrill of rebellion. Some simply check out. When a culture forgets what gives life meaning, it becomes vulnerable to every ideology that offers a quick answer.

The quiet return of meaning

And yet, quietly, something else is happening. Beneath the frustration and cynicism, many Americans are recognizing that meaning does not come from what we own, but from what we honor. It does not rise from success, but from virtue. It does not emerge from noise, but from the small, sacred things that modern life has pushed to the margins — the home, the table, the duty you fulfill, the person you help when no one is watching.

The danger is assuming that this rediscovery happens on its own. It does not.

Reorientation requires intention. It requires rebuilding the habits and virtues that once held us together. It requires telling the truth about our history instead of rewriting it to fit today’s narratives. And it requires acknowledging what has been erased: that meaning is inseparable from God’s presence in a nation’s life.

Harold M. Lambert / Contributor | Getty Images

Where renewal begins

We have built a world without stillness, and then we wondered why no one can hear the questions that matter. Those questions remain, whether we acknowledge them or not. They do not disappear just because we drown them in entertainment or noise. They wait for us, and the longer we ignore them, the more disoriented we become.

Meaning is still available. It is found in rebuilding the smallest, most human spaces — the places that cannot be digitized, globalized, or automated. The home. The family. The community.

These are the daily virtues that do not trend on social media, but that hold a civilization upright. If we want to repair this country, we begin there, exactly where every durable civilization has always begun: one virtue at a time, one tradition at a time, one generation at a time.

This article originally appeared on TheBlaze.com.