What Have We Traded For Our Bread And Circuses?

Georgia Garvey
Fri, 16 Jan 2026 23:00:00 -0800
Opinion

My son performs magic now.

He picked it up at a friend's birthday party — a sweet, old-fashioned affair with a magician and a goodie bag that instead of cheap plastic trinkets had the materials for three tricks basic enough that even a second grader could master them.

After the pizza, cake and show, my boy proudly bounced home and straight away asked me if I wanted to see some magic. I did, of course.
Updated: Sat Jan 17, 2026

My son performs magic now.

He picked it up at a friend's birthday party — a sweet, old-fashioned affair with a magician and a goodie bag that instead of cheap plastic trinkets had the materials for three tricks basic enough that even a second grader could master them.

After the pizza, cake and show, my boy proudly bounced home and straight away asked me if I wanted to see some magic. I did, of course.

First, he showed me a spinning stick that mysteriously stopped the second he waved his hands over the top. He also had a card trick, one where he'd put one of two cards behind his back and no matter which one I chose, he always revealed the other. He stumped me at first with both, amazingly adept (for a little kid) at hiding the angle.

But then there was a coin trick, a misdirection that I'd seen before but only noticed the subterfuge at work once it was slowed down to an 8-year-old's speed. The coin started in one hand.

"Boom," he'd announce, proudly, smacking his hands together and then opening an empty palm, the coin in a balled fist behind his back.

"Wow!" I said in simulated amazement.

I thought of that coin trick today, the transparent flimflammery, when I saw the nearly unbelievable news that several European countries are sending troops to Greenland. They're shoring up their defenses, you see, because some lunatic country is threatening to invade the sovereign nation and, against its wishes, turn it into their next territory.

That lunatic country, I am sad to report, is us.

Now, for some time, it's been tough for me to understand why the United States would risk war with Europe and violate the sanctity of an existing country based on reasoning as shoddy as "we want the land." So I did what anyone does when they have a stupid question. I googled it.

Clearly, many sane people are inquiring something similar, because barely a third of the way into "Why does Trump want," Google already had suggested "Greenland" to finish my query.

I found a BBC article that tried to explain.

"In recent years, there has been increased interest in Greenland's natural resources," the article reads, "including rare earth minerals, uranium and iron. It could also have significant oil and gas reserves."

Ah. OK. Things are a bit clearer now.

Still, yes, there was that in Venezuela, too, but what happened to "America First"? What happened to ending wars all over the world? What happened to the guy who just yesterday strong-armed a Nobel Peace Prize away from its actual recipient?

Then I thought about that coin trick.

There are, I realized, a few things that perhaps the administration would rather not discuss.

The Epstein Files, with pictures of the president boogying next to a human-trafficking pedophile, are particularly worrisome, one would imagine. But there's also dire domestic news: weak job gains (and that mostly from part-time gig work that doesn't come with benefits), as well as more expensive food, health care and housing — not to mention troubles on almost every front for U.S. farmers.

It's time for some good old-fashioned wagging the dog, even if the U.S. and Denmark, Greenland's protector, are in a club together. It's allegedly called the "North Atlantic Treaty Organization," but it feels more like it should be "Narrative Adjustment Through Overreach." I mean, if you can't control the headlines, just make them weirder, right?

The architects of this awareness off-ramp can't even be credited with creativity. This is not a new tactic.

Almost 2,000 years ago, the Roman satirical poet Juvenal coined the phrase "bread and circuses" to describe the way that the public had been conned to swap democracy for cheap distractions.

"Already long ago, from when we sold our vote to no man," Juvenal wrote, "the people have abdicated our duties. For the people, who once upon a time handed out military command, high civil office, legions — everything — now restrains itself and anxiously hopes for just two things: bread and circuses."

Sounds familiar.

I ask myself what we, as Americans, have traded for our bread and circuses, our streaming videos and our home-delivered value meals. While we're busying looking at the invasions of South American countries, North American countries and Minnesota streets, what do our leaders have in their hands behind their backs?

The government should worry, and perhaps they do, that eventually the shallowness of the deceit will overcome its entertainment value.

But the tyrants of Rome were not overthrown in a democratic revolution. The empire eroded slowly, ground from marble to dust by corruption, invaders and economic instability.

It seems unlikely that there will be any quick consequences for these distractions. We have already noticed the coin behind the back. But likely we'll just complain to friends and family, and then we'll move on.

How could we not?

After all, there's always another circus to attend.