I’m a divorced woman now in my 40s. Mine was a typical Indian arranged marriage in my 20s. I had said yes to a proposal after saying no to many others, simply to keep my parents happy. They were worried that I didn’t want to get married at all. Back then, moving away from your parents or going against their wishes over something like marriage wasn’t really an option. You just did what they wanted.
Unlike my cousins and my elder siblings, who were eager to get married, I knew the typical Indian marriage scenario wasn’t for me. I realized this when I was still in my teens and early 20s. I’m an introvert who loves her alone time, more than the average introvert. I’m borderline a loner. Anyone who knew me as a kid can vouch for this. I rarely left the house. I still don’t. The activities I enjoyed as a kid remain more or less the same activities I enjoy now – reading, listening to music, watching TV, zoning out.
So, the idea of entering an Indian arranged marriage with a complete stranger, suddenly being expected to feel “love” for this person, giving up most of my free time, and making an effort to stay in touch with his family members and friends on a regular basis? I wasn’t sure I was cut out for any of it.
It’s easier for a man to remain a loner even after getting married. He can keep his distance from his wife’s family, not attend every event, and face little to no criticism for it. I have seen this in my extended family. But an Indian woman is expected to play a much more social role in marriage. She’s supposed to make a conscious effort to bond with her husband’s family, stay in touch with relatives, plan get-togethers, attend all events, and do all the little things that keep everyone connected. For someone like me, who values her personal space, that felt like a lot to take on.
After watching my parents grow increasingly disappointed with my constant rejection of marriage proposals, I finally gave in. I’d even tried a few dramatic ways to get the guys to reject me. Think Roja style, claiming I had a boyfriend! In one case, things almost reached the engagement stage before I told the guy that I had no romantic feelings for him and was starting to develop sisterly feelings for him instead. I’m not proud of any of these stories. I know I hurt those guys, their families, and my own family in the process. Looking back, I wish I’d handled things differently. But I’m also empathetic towards the younger me, knowing that I did such things out of sheer desperation, as there was no other way out.
Until then, I’d been the quintessential “good girl” in my family. I did well in my studies, didn’t party late at night (obviously, due to my loner tendencies), was polite, and didn’t talk back to my parents. So, needless to say, they were quite taken aback when this new, rebellious side of me emerged. Suddenly, I was the daughter who is problematic because she didn’t want to get married.
Then, one day, after seeing my parents get emotional, I decided that I would say yes to the next arranged marriage proposal that came my way, no matter who the guy was.
My parents chose a guy. I thought he was fairly good-looking, and he seemed quite smitten with me at the time. I finally said yes.
And that’s how my arranged marriage happened.
My goal was simple: make it work somehow. I thought love might bloom eventually, just as people kept telling me it would. Maybe I would be one of those people who fell in love after marriage.
Around that time, Rab Ne Bana Di Jodi was released. I remember going to the theatre and feeling a little emotional when the song “Haule Haule Ho Jayega Pyaar” started playing. The line means that love will arrive slowly and steadily. At that point in my life, I genuinely felt as though the song had been written for me. I was sitting there, wondering the same thing over and over again: Will I ever fall in love with this person?
Society had taught me that love wasn’t all that important anyway. What mattered was settling down, getting married, and making the relationship work. So, I settled. But love never made its presence felt. And that frustrated both of us.
Looking back, I don’t think love ever stood much of a chance in our marriage because we were incompatible in so many ways. We weren’t compatible intellectually, emotionally, or physically. We could be two perfectly decent people individually and still bring out the worst in each other as a couple.
We belonged to the same caste, and our horoscopes matched. Everything was right on paper. Yet there was no warmth between us. Instead of feeling like two partners building a life together, our relationship felt like one bound by orthodox rules and expectations. He believed the husband should have the final say in decision-making. I was a feminist. He even told me that I shouldn’t read too many books because they would make me delusional about how the real world works. Apparently, ignorance is bliss. It was the first and last time in my life that someone told me reading was a bad habit.
Naturally, things went downhill.
Could I have said and done all the right things to keep the marriage going? Absolutely. But that would have meant spending a lifetime compromising, suppressing parts of myself, and settling for someone who wasn’t right for me. And honestly, it wouldn’t have been fair to him either. He deserved a partner who was genuinely compatible with him, just as I deserved the same.
This is what I wish more people understood. Being from the same caste and having matching horoscopes might tick the boxes that families consider important. But those things alone cannot guarantee a happy marriage. They don’t tell you whether two people share similar values, respect each other’s opinions, connect emotionally, or want the same things from life.
Left-leaning media in America often attack Donald Trump. They will scrutinise his policies, question his ideology, and discuss the dangers of his politics.
But when it comes to hate against Indians, specifically Indian Americans, the same urgency and enthusiasm seem to disappear.
This kind of hatred may not always be visible in everyday life in the Western world. Many Indians live perfectly ordinary lives abroad. But when racism does surface, there isn’t always a strong or sustained public pushback against it. There’s an eerie quietness, even among the liberals. A kind of “silent racism” going on.
Which makes me wonder: do many people prefer to keep their racism and bigotry private?
Why Are We Suddenly Talking About “The Indian Question”?
The immediate reason for this post is Christopher Rufo’s podcast episode on YouTube titled The Indian Question. Rufo is a prominent conservative activist and political commentator in the US.
I watched the episode last night to understand why it attracted so much attention.
The title itself deserves scrutiny.
Historically, the phrase “The Jewish Question” was used in European debates to justify racism against Jews.
The concern with using “The Indian Question” is the framing. When an ethnic community is discussed as a question to be solved, rather than as people with individual rights, it becomes a problem.
Indian Americans are not a problem to be solved. They are people living, working, studying, raising families, and contributing to the country they call home. They are more loyal to America than India, from what I have observed.
The Indian population in the US is nowhere near a majority. Indian Americans make up roughly 1.5% of the US population. Why does the presence of Indians, particularly successful Indians, provoke such hate in American society, even if they are the minority?
Apparently, Indians Haven’t Assimilated Enough
One of the arguments discussed in the episode concerns a video of Indian students celebrating a football team’s success. This video attracted attention after being shared by Texas political figure Bo French.
The argument goes something like this:
The first person implies, “Indians are assimilating. Look at the students celebrating an American football victory.”
The other person counters, “Even these students might not be truly assimilated. Otherwise, why would anyone be discussing their participation in American culture?”
Think about that for a moment.
If Indians don’t participate in American traditions, they haven’t assimilated. If they do participate, the fact that their participation is being discussed apparently proves that they haven’t assimilated either.
What exactly is the winning answer here? The goalposts seem to shift depending on the argument.
And then comes another example: Indian children winning spelling bee competitions.
According to the argument, these children study day and night to win. Spelling bees, apparently, are supposed to be fun rather than competitive. The justification is that this emphasis on academic achievement somehow makes Indian children less American.
The other person laughs and nods along.
The broader argument seems to be that being American means being aggressive and expressive, like people at football matches, rather than studious and academically competitive.
So Indians are now supposed to prove their assimilation by being less successful? From now on, all Indian Americans should make a few adjustments.
When you submit reports to your manager, make several mistakes.
When your manager offers you a promotion, reject it.
When your child is asked to spell “lovely”, teach them to say “l-u-v-l-y”.
That’s how you assimilate, apparently: by playing dumb.
The issue is that Indians are being judged by standards not applicable to anyone else. If participating in American culture doesn’t count as assimilation, and excelling academically counts against assimilation, what exactly are Indians expected to do?
The Problem With Trying Too Hard to Please Racists
As usual, the comment sections in the YouTube video provide another layer to this discussion.
I see a few Indian Americans saying things like, “As an Indian American, I agree.”
There is a difference between honest criticism and agreeing with racial generalisations simply to gain acceptance.
Many encourage or justify racism in the hope that racists will make an exception for them. If someone is being racist towards Indians, it needs to be called out. Don’t respond with self-hatred or an endless list of reasons why you are one of the “good Indians”. Because they will use that list of reasons against you as well. A few people behaving badly does not give anyone the authority to generalise an entire community.
Say it plainly: “You can criticise an individual without generalising the whole community.”
Racism doesn’t necessarily disappear because you have the right job, speak perfect English, support the right political party and religion, or distance yourself from your cultural background.
Racists simply don’t want you there. No amount of people-pleasing can guarantee they will change their minds.
When Hindu Culture Becomes the Convenient Explanation
Another thing that stood out to me was the way Indian culture was represented in the YouTube video.
When these commentators talk about Indian culture, the visuals often feature Hindu temples, Hindu festivals, and religious celebrations. They also bring up videos from India, including footage of a cow dung festival that many Indians themselves may never have heard of. An unfamiliar or unusual practice is presented as though it represents ordinary Indian life.
Why?
Because it helps create a particular impression of India and Indians. Once that impression is established, it becomes easier to argue that Indians are culturally incompatible with America.
Let’s be honest. India is enormous and extraordinarily diverse. There are hundreds of languages, different religious traditions, countless regional customs, and vast differences in everyday life.
One unusual festival, one viral video, or one person’s behaviour cannot explain an entire country.
But this is where the argument becomes convenient. If you want to dislike Indians, you can always find something to point at.
If a Hindu festival is loud, that’s evidence of cultural incompatibility.
If Indian students excel academically, that’s evidence that they haven’t assimilated.
If Indians participate in American traditions, that somehow isn’t enough either.
The examples change, but the conclusion remains the same.
Indians are the problem.
That is what makes this more than a debate about cultural differences. It starts looking like racism and bigotry dressed up as a discussion about assimilation.
Why Are So Many NRIs Afraid to Speak Up?
The saddest part of this conversation is the silence of some Indians living abroad.
I’ve heard people say things along the lines of, “Life is already hard. We just want to keep our heads down so we don’t get attacked by racists.”
I understand the fear.
If you live in another country, your job, visa status, family, financial security, and future may depend on your ability to maintain a stable life there. You may not want to become the target of online abuse or workplace hostility.
Not everyone has the luxury of speaking out. And nobody should be forced to put their safety or livelihood at risk to prove their courage.
But it is worth noticing the contrast.
Some Indians who hesitate to speak publicly about racism or other issues in the countries where they live will readily post about everything that is wrong with India. Of course, Indians in India do the same. Criticising one’s own country is perfectly legitimate.
If people can freely criticise India but feel that criticising racism in their adopted country is too risky, what does that tell us: that India has more freedom of speech?
When people stay silent because they fear the consequences, those spreading hatred may begin to assume that their views are acceptable.
The Selective Outrage of Indian Commentators
Then there is the response from certain commentators in India, particularly those who are strongly anti-Modi.
The moment an Indian pushes back against racist Americans, the moral policing begins.
“Don’t you see what’s happening in India? Concentrate on that.”
India has serious problems, and those problems deserve scrutiny. But why should one concern cancel out another?
Why can’t we discuss anti-Indian racism in America and discrimination in India in the same conversation?
Why does calling out racism against Indians suddenly become suspicious when the person speaking happens to be a Hindu, supports Modi, or disagrees with a particular political ideology?
Selective outrage is a real problem. Human rights should not become a team sport. Racism does not become acceptable because its victims belong to a political group you dislike.
I suspect another reason for this selective response is that some NRIs interpret anti-Indian racism in the US and other Western countries primarily as hostility towards right-wing Hindus, rather than as prejudice against Indians as a whole. That makes it easier to dismiss the problem.
But racist people don’t necessarily make those distinctions. They may target Indians because of their skin colour, name, accent, ethnicity, or perceived religion. And when Indian commentators themselves minimise the problem, racists can use those statements as convenient ammunition.
Are Indians Responsible for the Hate They Receive?
We are responsible for how we treat others, how we behave in public, and whether we challenge prejudice within our own communities. Indians are not above criticism, and being a minority abroad does not make every Indian automatically right.
But we are not responsible for someone else’s racism.
There is a difference between acknowledging that individuals can behave badly and accepting collective blame for an entire community.
And this brings me to Dinesh D’Souza.
D’Souza is a Christian conservative commentator of Indian origin who has spent years aligning himself with American right-wing politics. Yet he has faced racial abuse, including the use of the term “Dot Head”, a derogatory reference to the bindi traditionally worn by Indians (mostly Hindu women).
Think about the contradiction.
If the objection were genuinely about Hinduism, his Christian identity should make a difference, and racists wouldn’t have attacked him the way they are doing now on social media. To someone determined to see an outsider, an Indian face is enough.
This is why I find the entire argument about assimilation flawed.
D’Souza has criticised many aspects of liberal politics and has aligned himself with conservative causes. Yet his ethnicity is still a target.
In a way, I feel sorry for him. Dinesh spent considerable energy on social media trying to establish himself as a true-blue American by hating aspects of Indian and Hindu culture. He, like many others, believed that assimilation was the reason for anti-Indian racism.
The Double Standard Around Indian Religious Festivals
I also refuse to accept the argument that loud Indian religious festivals abroad somehow justify racism against Indians.
That is simply another way of shifting the blame onto the people facing hate.
Let’s look at Keralam. The place I’m from.
In Keralam, Hindu and Christian festivals can involve loud music, drums, processions, and celebrations that continue for days. Yes, they can be overwhelming. Elderly people need sleep, children need rest, and people have work the next morning.
But most of us understand that a festival is a special occasion. People are celebrating something meaningful to them, and we generally make room for that.
Similarly, Ashoora processions in parts of India can involve crowds, chest-beating, chanting, and considerable noise. These are not quiet affairs either.
And we coexist with these celebrations, even when we don’t personally participate in them.
That is part of living in a diverse society. That’s religious freedom.
If Indian communities in the West obtain the necessary permissions for a religious festival and are still told to tone it down simply because other people find their culture uncomfortable, we should ask what kind of religious freedom means in practice in these developed countries.
Am I to assume India has more religious freedom?
Good Noise and Bad Noise
Honestly, a lot of this comes down to what I call “good noise” and “bad noise”.
I find the noise from the nearby football stadium absolutely intolerable during matches. Anyone living near a stadium will know what I mean.
Songs. Dancing. Drums. Trumpets. Screaming. The whole thing.
It can sound remarkably similar to a religious festival. But I’ve never posted a story complaining about it. Why?
Because I understand that, for someone who loves football or cricket, that noise is part of the excitement. The crowd is celebrating. People are having a good time. It is “good noise”.
But when the celebration belongs to a religion or culture that someone dislikes, suddenly it becomes “bad noise”.
The sound itself may not be all that different from a football or cricket match. What changes is the meaning people attach to it.
You don’t have to love the noise. You don’t have to attend the festival. You don’t even have to understand why people enjoy it.
But you should be able to tolerate other people having the freedom to celebrate their religion, within the same reasonable rules that apply to everyone else.
Otherwise, perhaps the problem isn’t really the noise.
The Latest US Immigration Restrictions Make This Even More Concerning
The debate about Indian Americans is not happening in isolation. It is unfolding alongside a broader political debate about immigration.
And the latest developments involving the US Permanent Labor Certification programme, commonly known as PERM, are concerning for Indian professionals.
On October 8, 2026, reports emerged that the Trump administration had suspended several major technology companies from participating in the PERM process. The affected firms include Indian IT companies such as Infosys, Tata Consultancy Services, Wipro, HCLTech, and Cognizant, alongside other companies. The action affects employers who use it to sponsor eligible foreign workers for employment-based green cards.
This is especially relevant when anti-Indian rhetoric is gaining visibility. When people are already portraying Indian workers as a threat, immigration restrictions can reinforce the feeling that their presence is unwelcome.
Note the use of “indentured servants” and the last couple of words by the Vice President of the US:
Vice President JD Vance breaks down the data:
“If you are working as an H-1B visa in the United States of America, you’re earning $20,000 less than an American citizen hired in the same position. If you were brought in by one of these foreign outsourcing firms, you’re making $48,000 less than an American citizen in a similar position. So I’m sure that everybody here understands the game that is being played. You bring in indentured servants from outside the country, you lay off American workers and, if you’re a corporation, you make a ton of money by under cutting the wages of American workers, replacing them with people who frankly shouldn’t be in the United States of America to begin with.”— Vice President JD Vance (@VP) October 8, 2026
Final Thoughts
I don’t believe every criticism is racist. But I do believe that this incessant anti-Indian racism should be called out.
I believe Indian Americans should be able to celebrate their festivals, raise academically ambitious children, build successful careers, practise their faith, and participate in American society without having their entire identity put on trial. This is not too much to ask – considering they make up only 1.5% of American society.
Recently, a slew of rape cases have emerged in Delhi. It made think – can we, collectively as women, demand better protection for Indian women from governments across the political spectrum?
Rape cases in Keralam (where I am from) are also increasing each year. This year, up to July, Kerala Police had recorded 1538 cases. Even little boys are being sexually assaulted.
But somehow, no one seems to take sexual violence seriously enough.
This is not a political game where we pull out data to show that only women in BJP-ruled states are getting raped, or that only women in Congress-ruled states are getting raped. Rape is a serious issue that needs to be addressed in India, regardless of which state it happens in or which political party is in power.
I’m sure there isn’t a single woman in India, even in Keralam, who hasn’t had some kind of bad experience.
And I’m not saying India is the only place where this happens. I have had bad experiences in other countries too, involving locals.
Change Should Happen Within Families First Before Society Adopts It
I think my most mind-numbing experience happened when I was 16 or 17 because it involved someone I considered my own brother.
I used to be very comfortable around him and quite physical in the innocent way you can be with someone you completely trust. I would hold his arm, playfully hit him and behave as I normally would around someone I considered family.
Until one day, he crossed a line and groped me.
I know the feeling of shock that goes through your mind when something like that happens. You can become completely paralysed for a moment because your brain simply cannot process what is happening.
But I somehow found the strength to push him away and get out of the situation.
After that experience, I became much more conscious about physical contact with men. I only touch someone if I feel completely comfortable around them. Otherwise, I instinctively recoil.
Another experience happened when I was learning to drive.
I remember the man teaching me repeatedly placing his hand on the steering wheel right next to my breast. At the time, I thought he was doing it accidentally. So I would simply place my hand there to prevent it from happening again.
Looking back now, I realise how naive I was. I instinctively believed that people were good and that there had to be an innocent explanation for their behaviour.
And that’s the thing about sexual harassment and sexual assault. Sometimes these experiences don’t happen with strangers. They happen with people we know. People we trust. And sometimes, even people we never imagined we would have to protect ourselves from.
Women’s Safety Cannot Be a Political Game
Ideally, I would love to see women in every state demand better protection from both the central and state governments. This is something I feel very intensely about.
There are already stringent laws against rape in India. But having laws on paper is not enough. Their implementation remains a problem in many places.
The central and state governments need to work together to ensure that existing laws are properly enforced and that survivors have access to justice and protection.
Unfortunately, sexual violence has also become another opportunity for governments and political parties to blame each other in India.
But what does that achieve for women?
How does it make a woman feel safer?
And how do we prevent sexual violence when there are still people who believe that a woman’s body is somehow their property?
Sex Education Is Part of the Conversation
Society also needs to change, and one way to start is through proper sex education.
Yet even parents in my age group sometimes respond with, “Cheee, little kids don’t need to know all that,” whenever sex education is mentioned.
Many people seem to think sex education means teaching children “how to have sex” or something. I’m not joking.
But age-appropriate sex education is also about teaching children about boundaries, consent, inappropriate touching, body safety and the fact that they have the right to say no.
If we struggle to have these conversations among relatively educated urban families, imagine how difficult it must be to introduce them in more conservative or rural communities.
This is exactly why conversations about sexual abuse and women’s safety in India cannot be limited to one political party, one government or one election.
Change is needed from so many different sides if we genuinely want to reduce rape and sexual violence in India.
It’s not easy. But it should be done.
Delhi’s Reputation for Women’s Safety
Delhi also has a very bad reputation when it comes to women’s safety, regardless of which government is in power.
There seems to be a sense of status quo around it, both among some people and within the political system: “It’s unsafe, and it will remain unsafe.” If that attitude didn’t exist, wouldn’t there be a much stronger public reaction every time a rape case occurred?
I was recently watching a YouTube video of a Nepali woman visiting Delhi. The comments were overwhelmingly along the lines of, “Be careful, Delhi is not safe,” instead of simply saying, “Enjoy your trip.”
That is a shame for India as a whole. Shaming one place in India is, in a way, equivalent to shaming the whole country for me. I have never once thought, “Oh, she should visit Keralam instead because it’s safer.” Instead, I feel bad that anyone visiting India might have to worry about their safety in the first place. I want India as a whole to be safe.
Even Justice Becomes Political
There is another problem.
Even when someone is found guilty and strict punishment is imposed, activists and people from Opposition parties often come forward questioning the evidence or saying, “There’s no proof.”
Then the government, whoever is in power, ends up caught in another political battle.
And when everything becomes a political fight, governments become reluctant to act decisively because there is no obvious political “win.”
This is precisely why the Centre and the states should work together on women’s safety and tackling sexual violence.
Let the critics say whatever they want.
Let political parties argue about everything else.
Some things are bigger than politics.
The safety of women and children should be one of them.
I loved 3 Body Problem on Netflix. It’s not a newly released series, but it was on my watchlist for the longest time.
The series follows the familiar trope of everything bad originating in Asian countries, while the developed countries work extra hard to save the world, even if it means resorting to some questionable measures.
But putting that aside, the show is incredibly engaging and entertaining. It keeps you hooked with its stunning visuals, innovative presentation and constant sense that something bigger is happening beneath the surface.
As someone who has watched quite a few shows and movies about aliens, 3 Body Problem felt different from the usual, sudden and direct “We are here to invade you” storyline.
There is much more going on here.
The show brings in politics, science, religion, human psychology and, most interestingly, people who believe that humanity cannot be saved from itself. It presents different viewpoints on human tragedies without dehumanizing either side. Each side believes it is right in its own way, something that feels relevant to the world we live in today, where nuance hardly exists anymore.
And then there is the alien question.
I, for one, find it almost impossible to believe that we are the only intelligent life in such a vast universe. The universe is simply too enormous for me to accept that humans are the only beings who have somehow managed to evolve, survive and become intelligent.
Why haven’t we encountered anyone else yet? There could be countless explanations. Maybe intelligent civilizations are too far apart. Maybe they exist at completely different points in time. Maybe we simply haven’t developed the technology to detect them.
Or maybe, as the show suggests, we have no idea what we might be dealing with.
I also find the idea that an extraterrestrial civilization could be far more intelligent than humans completely plausible. We tend to assume that because we are the most technologically advanced species we know, we must be at the top of the intelligence ladder.
But we only have one example to compare ourselves against: us.
What if something else has had millions of years more to evolve?
That possibility is one of the things that makes 3 Body Problem so fascinating to me.
The series is definitely worth watching if you enjoy science fiction and alien stories. Just don’t expect the first season to answer every question. There is a lot more to come, and a new season is on the way.
Streaming on: Netflix Episodes: 8 Runtime: Approximately 50 minutes per episode
One thing I have noticed about Gen-Z in India is that they are unhinged. I am not sure if it is the same case with Gen-Z around the world, but the ones in India truly seem to be. And no, I am not talking about student protests or anything political. I am talking about something much more personal.
As a 40+ unmarried woman, I have found myself being stared at by boys in their 20s while I am simply out and about. And interestingly, it is not the older men who are doing it. It is the younger ones, making their best attempts to lock eyes with me.
Apparently, according to what I keep seeing on social media, this is becoming a thing. There seems to be growing interest among younger men in dating significantly older women. Maybe it is a genuine preference. Maybe it is a fantasy. Maybe it is simply curiosity. From what I have read, many of these relationships don’t necessarily translate into long-term commitments, but the fact that younger men seem increasingly comfortable making their interest obvious is interesting in itself.
This changing scenario has resulted in books and movies exploring age-gap romances where the woman is older, like The Idea of You, as well as One & Only. One thing I’ve realised is that my mind is still not fully adapted to the idea of an age-gap romance. So when the lead characters make out, my first reaction is always, “OMG! But he’s just a kid!” Even when he’s actually a full-blown adult.
Now, getting to personal experiences. Recently, I mentioned my age to a boy in his 20s who simply wouldn’t look away.
His response?
“Age is just a number.”
So, apparently, that’s where we are now. Of course, this does not apply to all, because society at large age-shames women and finds older women unsuitable for relationships. But there is another part of this that I find much more interesting.
There is a very common, and frankly somewhat misogynistic, term for women who date significantly younger men: cougar.
Almost everyone knows the word. It has become so mainstream that you will find it casually used in movies, television, social media and everyday conversations.
But did you know there is a term for older men who pursue much younger women too?
Manther.
It is nowhere near as well known. In fact, I would bet that many people reading this have never heard the word before.
And that, in itself, says something about how we view relationships between older and younger people.
We are generally much more comfortable with men dating women who are 20 or 30 years younger, or even more. We rarely question it. “Love has no age,” we say.
Popular culture has reflected this dynamic for decades, with stories where an older man falls in love with a much younger woman being treated as perfectly normal, romantic or even aspirational.
But reverse the genders and suddenly the conversation changes.
An older woman with a younger man becomes a “cougar.” Her age becomes the focus. Her motives are questioned. She can be ridiculed, sexualized or shamed in a way that the older man in the equivalent relationship often isn’t.
And that brings me to something I genuinely wonder about.
How many people would actually be comfortable watching a mainstream movie where an older woman falls in love with a man 20 or 30 years younger than her, and the story treats their relationship with the same seriousness and romantic legitimacy usually given to an older man and a younger woman?
Would we call it a love story?
Or would we call her a cougar?
Maybe the younger generation really is changing some of these attitudes. Maybe the increased visibility of age-gap dating is slowly making older women dating younger men less unusual.
Or maybe we are simply becoming more comfortable talking about something that has always existed.
Either way, I find it fascinating that a 20-something can look at a woman in her 40s, hear her age, shrug and say, “Age is just a number.”
Perhaps Gen-Z really is unhinged.
Or perhaps they are just less bothered by rules that previous generations took for granted.
Recently, Jacob Coxon, a safety researcher who resigned from Anthropic in September 2026, said that both Anthropic and Open AI were “gambling with our lives” by racing toward self-improving superintelligence. He warned that there is a strong chance unchecked progress in artificial intelligence could lead to human extinction by the end of this decade.
The “self-improving superintelligence” part immediately reminded me of a fictional story I read recently called My Friend Aaron by Rory McMeekin (Google it). It was published in August, and it has all the elements of a Black Mirror short story. After reading Coxon’s recent comments about AI safety and superintelligence, that story feels almost uncomfortably real.
As someone who has been working for 15+ years in IT and now uses AI extensively for research, work, and fun, I can understand why many people aren’t taking these warnings from AI experts too seriously. Millennials have heard similar criticisms before, although about different technologies.
A few years back, AI for me at work basically meant Grammarly. It would automatically detect and correct my grammar mistakes. But there was almost a sense of guilt attached to using it, especially with so many people online shaming those who relied on writing tools. Apparently, if we are writers, we should get everything right on our own.
But I am someone who is much more comfortable thinking quickly and writing as I think than writing slowly, consciously, and perfectly. So I found Grammarly to be the perfect companion. It would catch my mistakes when I was speeding up my writing. Yet I still felt like I was doing something wrong by using the app.
It was only after ChatGPT came along that using Grammarly somehow became the lesser sin.
Now, people say, “Don’t use ChatGPT. Use Grammarly for writing and correcting small mistakes.”
If we look at the history of technology, I think this has always been the norm. A new product or technology arrives, people criticize it, and there are predictions about how it is going to ruin society or even end humanity. We saw it with the internet. We saw it with computers. And now we are seeing it with artificial intelligence.
Then something newer and more powerful comes along, and the technology that was previously considered controversial suddenly becomes normal.
I wonder if online AI bots will eventually achieve the same acceptance when something even more advanced comes along. Maybe that will be robots that look and speak like humans. Maybe it will be something we can’t even imagine yet.
Only time can tell.
Technology is definitely moving at a pace that I couldn’t have imagined a few years ago. Things that seemed like science fiction are becoming part of everyday life, and the conversation around AI is changing almost as quickly as the technology itself.
I don’t think banning AI is the answer. AI tools are helping many people, including me, speed up their work and get things done more efficiently. At the same time, I understand the criticism that AI can also make people lazy.
The problem is not using AI itself. It is how we use it. There is a big difference between using AI as an “add-on” to your work, something that helps you speed up what you already know, and using it as a complete replacement for your own knowledge and thinking.
Where that line should be drawn is something technology experts will have to figure out. And, as ordinary users, it is something we will only understand better as AI continues to evolve.
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