American Seances

This episode explores the 1971 "Nixon Shock," why Nixon believed America was getting a bad deal from its trading partners, and where his approach overlaps—and sharply diverges—from modern tariff politics.
Along the way, we examine the collapse of Bretton Woods, the politics of economic decline, and why Nixon viewed tariffs as a strategic bargaining tool rather than a permanent economic philosophy.

Imagine Harry Truman watching today's tariff tweets and policy U-turns: he'd be furious. He came from a generation that saw trade collapse and democracies fall, so to him tariffs were a dangerous geopolitical tool, not campaign fodder.
Truman trusted steady leadership, alliances, and institutions; he'd see modern tariff chaos as a real threat to the postwar order we built — not just to businesses, but to democracy itself.

Imagine your bluntest, no-nonsense friend dropped into a modern foreign policy debate — that’s Barry Goldwater here. He’d see Iran as a direct challenge to American strength and insist on big, unmistakable responses rather than cautious hedging. This piece walks through how Goldwater’s Cold War instincts — deterrence, overwhelming force, and disdain for ambiguity — would shape his view on Iran’s proxies, the Strait of Hormuz, and nuclear ambitions.
Casual, direct, and a little unnerving, it’s a look at why some foreign policy arguments still sound a lot like him: strong words, stronger actions.

Ever wondered what an impeccably tailored Cold Warrior would say about Iran? Dean Acheson would probably light a cigar, give you a dry smile, and remind you it’s all about balance — strategic choke points, allied credibility, and steady management, not theatrical crusades.This episode walks through how Acheson helped build the rules of the postwar world and why he’d treat the Persian Gulf as a problem to be managed with cool realism — blunt, practical, and surprisingly relatable.

Imagine your friend who treats geopolitics like a high-stakes chess match — that’s John Foster Dulles. In this episode we trace how his fierce anti-communist instincts and love of brinkmanship shaped the 1953 Iran coup and continue to echo in today’s U.S.–Iran tensions.He’d view hesitation as a strategic weakness, favoring bold covert action, strong alliances, and forceful deterrence — all while wringing his hands about oil routes and credibility. If you’re into Cold War drama, secret ops, and the bitter irony of unintended consequences, this one’s for you.

Picture Truman sliding his glasses down and asking, “And then what?” — that’s the vibe here. He’d read Iran through the Cold War playbook: no appeasement, protect the Strait of Hormuz, back allies, and show clear resolve to deter aggression.He wasn’t itching for war, just terrified of looking weak. So expect firm, pragmatic moves to preserve trade routes and regional balance — a hard-nosed approach that feels oddly familiar today.

Picture Robert “Fighting Bob” La Follette flipping through your insurance plan and sighing. This episode draws a quick line from his fight against railroad trusts to today’s battles with giant insurers, hospitals, and drug companies.
It’s a short, friendly tour of why La Follette might have liked the ACA’s consumer protections but still called it a compromise that leaves too much power with entrenched corporations — now with hold music.

Imagine Teddy Roosevelt charging into today\'s health care mess: equal parts outrage, elbow grease, and unfiltered common sense. This piece walks you through how TR\'s love of national vigor, disdain for concentrated corporate power, and belief in bold government action would shape his take on Obamacare.
It\'s a brisk, slightly cheeky look at where a Progressive-era reformer meets modern health policy—expect admiration for the ambition, scorn for bureaucratic nonsense, and a call to actually fix what\'s broken.

Think of Huey Long as a political showman who believed ordinary people deserved the same grandeur elites enjoyed — and would happily turn a White House ballroom into a stage for the public. He mixed real material reforms with theatrical flair, making politics feel big, emotional, and raw.Long didn’t care about elite opinion; he wanted dignity, spectacle, and power visible to everyone. He’d see a great ballroom not as aristocratic luxury but as proof the people finally owned their government — and he’d probably grin while doing it.

Picture Teddy Roosevelt grinning at a massive White House ballroom—he’d adore the spectacle, the bands, the flags, and the sense that America looked every bit the global powerhouse he wanted it to be.He’d scoff at timid modesty, prefer rugged, heroic grandeur to gaudy excess, and probably want a few battle paintings and taxidermy around the edges. Basically: if the presidency’s going to look impressive, Roosevelt would make sure it was impressively loud.