{"id":198477,"date":"2026-07-21T19:54:03","date_gmt":"2026-07-22T03:54:03","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/lukeford.net\/blog\/?p=198477"},"modified":"2026-07-21T19:58:01","modified_gmt":"2026-07-22T03:58:01","slug":"julius-krein","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/lukeford.net\/blog\/?p=198477","title":{"rendered":"Julius Krein"},"content":{"rendered":"

On the night of Tuesday, February 21, 2017, one month after Donald Trump<\/a> (b. 1946) took the oath of office, a crowd gathered at the Harvard Club of New York<\/a> on West 44th Street for the launch of a new quarterly journal. The setting announced its own argument: dark paneling, crimson banners, the mounted trophies of a vanished Brahmin confidence. The guest list ran against type. Sam Tanenhaus<\/a>, former editor of the New York Times Book Review, walked in ahead of a contributor to The American Conservative<\/a>. William Kristol<\/a> (b. 1952), founder of The Weekly Standard<\/a> and by then the most visible anti-Trump conservative in America, stood to one side. Republican mega-donors Rebekah Mercer<\/a> and Roger Hertog<\/a> circulated. So did Mark Lilla<\/a> (b. 1956) and Michael Lind<\/a> (b. 1962), heterodox men of the center-left. The panel that evening paired Peter Thiel<\/a> (b. 1967), the Silicon Valley investor who had spoken for Trump at the Republican convention, with Anne-Marie Slaughter<\/a> (b. 1958), the former State Department official who ran the New America Foundation.<\/p>\n

The host was thirty years old. Julius Krein<\/a> (b. 1986) had spent the previous decade as an investment analyst at firms including Bank of America<\/a> and Blackstone<\/a>, and the previous year as the anonymous co-author of a blog that tried to construct a political theory for a candidate who had none. Politico<\/a> had called him a whiz kid a few weeks earlier. He worked the room for an hour before taking the stage to introduce his journal, American Affairs<\/a>, which proposed to treat the Trump insurgency as a serious event in American political thought. Kristol, his old mentor, could not endorse the project, but he came anyway and offered a blessing in the form of a joke: “The world needs more money-losing magazines.”<\/p>\n

The distance between that room and Krein's origins measures the American class system he would spend the next decade analyzing. He grew up in Eureka, South Dakota<\/a>, a farm town of under a thousand people in the north-central part of the state, the son of Gary and Nancy Krein. He graduated from Eureka High School in 2004. The local paper, the Aberdeen American News<\/a>, covered his magazine launch in January 2017 as hometown news: Eureka native catches national attention. His childhood church was a congregation of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America<\/a> that remained conservative in doctrine and liturgy, less from conviction than from distance; the changes remaking mainline Protestantism arrived in rural South Dakota slowly. He has recalled Christianity there as an ordinary fact of communal life, embedded in habit, music, and mutual expectation, with no need to advertise as an oppositional identity. That memory later informed his suspicion of movements that try to rebuild community through political messaging.<\/p>\n

He has also described a pattern that runs through his career: he was relatively liberal in conservative South Dakota and became more conservative at liberal Harvard. He notices the unexamined assumptions of whatever room he is in.<\/p>\n

At Harvard College<\/a>, from 2004 to 2008, Krein studied political philosophy with Harvey Mansfield<\/a> (b. 1932), the scholar of Machiavelli and Tocqueville who trained generations of students in the Straussian tradition. Through Mansfield he entered the orbit of Kristol, another former Mansfield student. The education gave Krein a vocabulary of regimes, statesmanship, and civic purpose. It also gave him a contradiction to chew on. The conservative movement around him praised great statesmen while opposing the state through which statesmen act. It invoked national greatness while endorsing policies that dismantled national production. It defended tradition while celebrating the market forces that dissolved traditional life. Krein kept the Straussian interest in leadership and discarded the movement's economics. In a 2024 essay, “Statesmanship and Political Philosophy,” he argued that the American right wants Churchills without a government worth commanding, while the left, which built the administrative state, prefers experts and procedures to the language of rule. His alternative rejects both libertarian minimalism and neutral technocracy: leaders who can name national purposes, and institutions able to carry them out.<\/p>\n

After graduation he went into finance. This period shaped his political economy more than any book. He learned from the inside how institutional investors evaluate companies, how stock-based compensation steers executive decisions, and how a chain of individually rational choices produces national outcomes nobody intends. During the 2016 campaign he worked at a Boston-area hedge fund. By then he had concluded that the United States suffered a capital-allocation crisis. The American financial system excelled at raising asset prices, distributing cash, and enriching intermediaries. It failed at financing capital-intensive manufacturing, infrastructure, and industrial projects with long horizons and uncertain returns. The failure was structural. Fund managers answer to quarterly benchmarks. Pension allocators face career ruin for unconventional bets that underperform. Activist investors profit by pressuring firms to shed assets, cut employment, and return cash through buybacks. Each actor behaves sensibly within his mandate. The sum is declining investment, lost productive capacity, and dependence on foreign supply chains.<\/p>\n

The 2016 campaign gave this analysis a political vehicle, though an unlikely one. Early that year Krein helped create the anonymous Journal of American Greatness, writing under the pseudonym Plautus. Another contributor, writing as Publius Decius Mus, was later revealed as Michael Anton<\/a> (b. 1969), who would serve on Trump's National Security Council. The blog began as something between an intellectual exercise and an inside joke. Trump was erratic, unsystematic, and often offensive. He also attacked positions that both parties' establishments held sacred: free-trade agreements, democracy-promotion wars, mass immigration, the treatment of China as a partner rather than a rival. The blog's writers asked whether these heresies could cohere into a program, and whether Trump's support revealed an elite that had detached from the nation and forgotten that political membership entails mutual obligation. They supplied theory to a candidate indifferent to theory. The audience grew beyond anything they expected. Because several contributors worked in professions where association with Trump could end careers, the site went dark before the election, its authors explaining that a joke had outgrown its containment. Krein drew a different lesson from the traffic numbers. A readership existed for a serious journal on the questions Trump had forced open.<\/p>\n

Trump won. Krein left finance. The first issue of American Affairs appeared in February 2017, and the Harvard Club filled with donors, apostates, and the curious. Krein told a reporter that evening that he and his collaborators had wanted to preserve the serious elements of the critique Trump raised, and then, to their surprise, the man won. The remark contained the whole future arc of his career: loyalty to the critique, detachment from the critic.<\/p>\n

His own essay in that first issue, “James Burnham's Managerial Elite,” set the theoretical foundation. James Burnham<\/a> (1905-1987) had argued in the 1940s that classical capitalism was giving way to a managerial society ruled by executives, administrators, and technicians. Krein updated the thesis for the neoliberal era. Conservative rhetoric still described a war between private markets and government bureaucracy. Power had migrated elsewhere, into a network of corporations, financial institutions, agencies, universities, foundations, and nonprofits whose managers circulate among them and share the same schooling and assumptions. Privatization does not shrink this class; it often shifts authority to contractors and consultants even less accountable to voters. The real questions are who controls an institution, what incentives govern it, and whether it owes anything to a political community. Unlike much of the populist right, Krein drew no fantasy of abolition from this analysis. Modern societies require engineers, administrators, and large organizations. The task is to bind managerial power to public purposes. His answer was a more capable state, and he has never wavered from it.<\/p>\n

The association with Trump ended in August 2017. After the president's response to the white-nationalist rally and killing in Charlottesville<\/a>, Krein published an op-ed in the New York Times under the headline “I Voted for Trump. And I Sorely Regret It.” He called the administration disgraceful and urged those who had supported Trump, as he had, to stop defending him. On NPR<\/a> days later, he explained the reversal without excusing his earlier self. He and others had rationalized the campaign's inflammatory rhetoric as media provocation, a sideshow to the real concerns of trade, China, and industrial decline. Charlottesville convinced him the distinction could not hold. The repudiation cost him with the movement he had helped theorize and bought him nothing with the establishment he continued to attack. It also produced the distinction that has organized his work since: Trump as historically necessary destroyer of a dead consensus, and Trump as builder of nothing. The first campaign broke taboos. The first administration could not staff a government, coordinate a policy, or construct an institution.<\/p>\n

Freed from the politician, the critique deepened. Krein's 2018 essay “The Three Fusions” described the post-Cold War order as a set of unstable syntheses. The first fused global integration with national interest: the claim, which he called synthetic globalism, that open trade, free capital flows, and reduced national autonomy automatically serve every country, so that no conflict between universal aspiration and particular community need ever be faced. The second was the conservative fusion of market individualism with cultural traditionalism. Postwar conservatives assumed economic freedom would strengthen families, churches, and towns. Krein argued the record shows the reverse: labor mobility, consumerism, consolidation, and financialization dissolved the institutions social conservatives claimed to defend. A movement cannot fund the demolition of communities through economic policy and then demand social continuity through rhetoric. Obligations require material foundations. The third fusion joined progressive social liberation to economic egalitarianism. Progressive energy had drained from economic organization into professional activism, nonprofits, and identity-based moral campaigns, allowing the professional class to present its cultural preferences as everyone's liberation. Krein did not deny that discrimination exists. His point was symmetry: the interests of progressive professionals hide beneath universal moral language just as the interests of capital owners hide beneath the language of free markets.<\/p>\n

His most discussed essay, “The Real Class War,” appeared in 2019 and complicated the standard populist picture of a unified elite facing a unified working class. The conflict with the most political consequence, he argued, was opening at the top: between owners of substantial capital, whose wealth tracks asset values and who benefit from loose money, financial globalization, and monopoly rents, and the professional-managerial upper-middle class, whose position depends on salaries, credentials, and access to expensive metropolitan regions. The working class had suffered the deepest losses but held the least organized power. Unions had collapsed, machines and churches and civic associations had thinned, and economic policy had passed to central banks, courts, and expert agencies. Workers could disrupt elections; they could elect Trump or vote Brexit; they could not convert grievance into a governing program. The professional class remained institutionally strong and increasingly anxious, squeezed by housing, tuition, credential inflation, and the widening gap between salaried comfort and asset-owning wealth. This framework explained why movements speaking for workers were led by graduates of expensive universities. Support for Bernie Sanders<\/a> (b. 1941), Elizabeth Warren<\/a> (b. 1949), and debt cancellation expressed real concern for the poor and also the fear of a professional class facing downward mobility. Culture mattered in this account, but as one force among interests, institutions, and geography, never as the sole explanation.<\/p>\n

The financial critique grew more concrete in “Share Buybacks and the Contradictions of 'Shareholder Capitalism'” and, in 2021, “The Value of Nothing: Capital versus Growth.” The argument's core: America built a value-extraction economy that rewards firms for converting productive assets into liquid returns. Profits rose; investment did not rise with them. Defenders of buybacks answered that shareholders redeploy returned capital to better uses. Krein, who had sat inside the machine, described how the machine works instead. The activist who forces a buyback at one firm does not finance a manufacturing startup with the proceeds; his mandate forbids it. The pension manager rewarded for hugging benchmarks makes no bets on unfamiliar industrial processes. Passive index funds, now the largest shareholders in American companies, perform none of the capital reallocation that supposedly justifies shareholder control. Executives therefore answer to an ecosystem that prizes predictable margins, asset-light models, and liquid returns, and punishes large expenditures with distant payoffs. The rational response is to close plants, outsource, cut research, and buy back stock. He never claimed financialization alone caused deindustrialization; trade rules, tax policy, exchange rates, and foreign industrial strategies all contributed. His claim was narrower and sharper: the hollowing was not economic law. Policy and financial incentives favored liquid claims over physical production, and different policy might favor otherwise. From this followed his heresy against both libertarians and socialists. Private ownership is not the disease, and existing shareholders do not perform the entrepreneurial function assigned to them in theory. The survival of capitalism might require government to redirect capital toward production.<\/p>\n

The intellectual lineage here runs to Alexander Hamilton<\/a> (1757-1804), Friedrich List<\/a> (1789-1846), and the American School of economic nationalism, though Krein rarely presents his work as revival and the connection is better understood as inheritance than discipleship. Hamilton and List distinguished a nation's productive powers from the goods it can buy at a given moment. Cheap imports raise consumption today while eroding the capabilities on which wealth, military strength, and independence depend tomorrow. Krein applies the insight to semiconductors, machine tools, ships, and pharmaceuticals. A country can hold valuable financial claims while losing the ability to make the physical basis of its own economy, and such a country is not fully sovereign whatever its constitution says. His economic nationalism demands no autarky. It demands that trade policy be judged by its effect on industrial ecosystems, workforce skills, and resilience, and not by consumer prices alone. Readers have also heard Christopher Lasch<\/a> (1932-1994) in his portraits of elites who mistake mobility for merit, though Lasch is a parallel voice; Krein's documented debts run through Burnham, Mansfield, finance, and development economics.<\/p>\n

Under his editorship, American Affairs became one of the few American publications where nationalist conservatives, social democrats, Marxists, heterodox economists, and post-liberal philosophers shared a table of contents. The unity was never agreement. Contributors fought over unions, immigration, welfare, and God. They shared exhaustion with neoliberalism and a preference for institutional analysis over slogan. The journal ran conservative cases for industrial policy beside left-wing attacks on identity politics and financialization. Its style cut against its origin: born of populist revolt, it spoke in supply-chain logistics, procurement rules, and development finance, essay after essay of technical density. Krein never believed anger could govern. He wanted to connect democratic discontent to a class of people who know how institutions work. By the mid-2020s the press described American Affairs as a heterodox policy journal rather than an organ of Trumpism, and a 2025 Bloomberg profile presented it as the meeting ground where left and right converge on one question: what replaces neoliberalism? Its readership stayed small and placed: academics, congressional staff, financiers, technologists, the people who draft what politicians announce.<\/p>\n

China anchors the argument's urgency. Krein reads China as more than a military rival or trade cheat; it is a rival model of political economy that treats factories, infrastructure, and supply chains as instruments of national power. The American establishment assumed the country could ship production abroad and keep the valuable work of design, finance, and branding. Krein argues the separation fails because production generates knowledge. Factories create engineering expertise, supplier networks, and the feedback between design and manufacturing from which the next innovation comes. When production leaves, the capacity to innovate follows it out the door. His 2022 essay “Where the Chips Fell” applied this to the CHIPS Act<\/a>, which he treated as a real break with orthodoxy, the first admission in decades that semiconductor manufacturing is a legitimate object of national policy, and also as a cautionary case: a legislative process that favored incumbents and shrank the ambitions of earlier proposals. Support the imperfect departure; audit its capture. The pattern became his signature.<\/p>\n

Toward the parties he has stayed programmatic and unsentimental. Republicans won the voters industrial decline created while keeping Reagan-era commitments to tax cuts, deregulation, and hostility to public investment, and much of the party's new generation substituted televised culture war for economic policy. Krein has described a large share of them as amateurish culture warriors, right about the unpopularity of progressive institutions and unequipped to run a government. Democrats hold the administrators and passed the industrial-policy legislation of the Biden years, and remain fused to professional-class moralism and institutions working-class voters distrust. In “The Other Realignment” he weighed whether the Democratic establishment might pair industrial strategy with retreat from its least popular cultural positions, and judged it possible and unlikely. He backs industrial policy from either party and criticizes its capture by either party's clients.<\/p>\n

His religious life traced a quieter version of the same commitments. On the East Coast he found his way to Anglo-Catholic Episcopal parishes in New York and Boston, where the liturgy and music echoed the Lutheran worship of his childhood more than he expected. He concluded that communal observance and inherited practice carry more weight than he had understood, and the conclusion matches his politics point for point. Communities do not survive on stated beliefs. Institutions train desire, keep memory, and give people something to do together on a schedule. He has criticized the reduction of Christianity to a partisan identity on the same grounds: a religion that becomes a list of culture-war positions loses the practices that gave it authority. His interest in the old mainline is partly historical. Those churches once limited economic and political competition and taught elites to imagine obligations beyond advancement. Their collapse accompanied atomization. None of this made his journal religious; its subject stayed political economy. It explains why he rejects both radical individualism and bare coercion. Order lasts when institutions connect ambition to purposes outside the self.<\/p>\n

The career's third act began on December 11, 2024, in Washington, with the launch of the New American Industrial Alliance, a multi-sector trade association for the reindustrialization movement. The founding group joined Krein with Austin Bishop, a Cleveland-born investor at Tamarack Global who spoke at the launch of watching the disinheritance of the heartland firsthand, and two manufacturing-startup CEOs, Chris Power of Hadrian and Aaron Slodov of Atomic Industries. The membership rolls tell the coalition's story better than any manifesto: Palantir<\/a>, Anduril<\/a>, Boeing<\/a>, Siemens<\/a>, Google<\/a>, Meta<\/a>, Y Combinator<\/a>, a16z<\/a>, General Catalyst<\/a>, Oklo, dozens of defense and manufacturing startups, and regional development agencies, arranged under an advisory board spanning aerospace, AI, energy, critical minerals, industrial finance, and supply chains. Titles shifted in the early months; podcasts introduced Krein as chairman, a September 2025 Inc. profile called him president and head of policy, and the organization's current leadership page lists him as chief executive officer and head of policy, with Bishop as chairman. At the movement's Reindustrialize conferences, the culture is closer to a tent revival for machinists and venture capitalists than to a K Street reception, and NAIA advertises the difference, promising the force of a trade association without the graft and timidity of the consultant class. Oren Cass<\/a> (b. 1983) of American Compass<\/a>, working the same territory from a different angle, has praised the group as a force multiplier for everyone working on reindustrialization.<\/p>\n

The role changes what Krein's ideas must survive. An editor identifies contradictions. A trade-association executive negotiates among firms whose interests diverge: incumbents who want subsidies and no competitors, financiers who want public risk absorption without public conditions, agencies without technical staff, procurement systems built to prevent scandal rather than produce weapons on time. His recent writing meets these problems at ground level. By 2025 he was advocating an American sovereign investment fund, a permanent institution able to provide equity, loans, and guarantees to strategic industries that private markets underserve: projects with enormous initial costs, long development periods, and returns below venture thresholds. Grants and tax credits help individual projects; they build no lasting expertise in structuring deals, monitoring investments, and reinvesting returns. A congressionally chartered fund with a portfolio approach could absorb failures, mobilize private capital beyond its appropriations, and escape annual spending fights. He noted the anomaly that America runs development-finance institutions for projects abroad while lacking a permanent development bank at home. When Trump's February 2025 executive order directed planning for a United States sovereign wealth fund, Krein supported the direction while insisting that design would decide whether the result became a development bank, a patronage vehicle, or one more subsidy channel for established firms. His September 2025 essay “Forging a Stronger Defense Industrial Base” ran the same analysis through procurement. The country struggles to produce artillery shells, ships, and drones at scale because military production rests on commercial shipyards, electronics suppliers, machine tools, and skilled labor that no longer exist in depth. New defense firms die in the gap between prototype and production contract. He backed the FoRGED and SPEED acquisition reforms and warned that procedure cannot substitute for capacity. A military cannot buy what the civilian economy has forgotten how to make.<\/p>\n

His response to the second Trump administration has held the line drawn in 2017. In “The Lessons of Liberation Day,” published in April 2025 after the tariff announcements, he credited the administration for confronting the trade imbalance and refusing to govern by the stock ticker, and wrote that the rollout suffered from serious miscalculations. Tariffs can protect strategic sectors and create negotiating leverage; they can also raise costs, wreck manufacturers dependent on imported components, and punish industries before domestic alternatives exist. Success requires sequencing: identify sectors, consult producers, arrange financing, develop suppliers, and connect protection to procurement and investment. A tariff announced as theater commands attention and builds nothing. This is his mature relation to Trumpism in one essay. He accepts the indictment of neoliberal trade policy. He rejects loyalty to a man and improvisation as a method. Trump made forbidden questions unavoidable; answering them requires institutions Trumpism has rarely managed to build.<\/p>\n

As a writer, Krein works at the intersection of political philosophy, financial analysis, and institutional detail, and he is most persuasive when showing how incentives inside an organization defeat its stated purpose. He spends little energy on whether individuals are good. He asks why a system keeps rewarding unproductive behavior, and his gallery of rational offenders includes fund managers hugging benchmarks, executives maximizing option value, bureaucrats avoiding risk, and politicians who prefer symbolic combat to administration. The prose can be caustic, especially toward free-market commentators who have never run a business and populists who mistake engagement metrics for power. The underlying disposition is constructive. He wants institutions that can act, which separates him from a dissident right skilled at denunciation and uninterested in operating a state, and from a left that wants intervention without confronting the weakness of the government that would intervene. Nationalist without being simply populist, statist without being socialist, pro-business and hostile to financialized governance: the combination fits no party and has influenced both.<\/p>\n

He has published no book. The influence runs through essays, editing, convening, and now institution building, and it can be measured by what became sayable. When American Affairs launched, mainstream economists and Republican institutions filed industrial policy under protectionist error. A decade later, tariffs, semiconductor subsidies, development finance, domestic-content rules, and procurement reform sit at the center of national debate, advanced in different forms by both parties. Krein did not cause the shift alone; the financial crisis, the pandemic, supply-chain failures, the war in Ukraine, and China's trajectory forced the reconsideration. His journal built the intellectual infrastructure in which those shocks could be interpreted before the political class accepted their implications, and his career shows the stages by which an insurgency matures: a pseudonymous blog identifies the rupture, a journal turns rupture into argument, a trade association turns argument into constituency.<\/p>\n

The hard stage is the current one. Declaring neoliberalism dead proved easier than building its successor. Industrial policy can be captured by incumbents. Public investment can become patronage. Protection can preserve firms that deserve to fail. Agencies can lack the knowledge to discipline the companies they fund. Krein has catalogued every one of these dangers in print, which sets the standard by which his own organization will be judged. If NAIA becomes an effective coalition of builders, investors, workers, and officials, he will have helped move economic nationalism from argument into governance. If it becomes another Washington group seeking subsidies for its members, it will reenact the interest-group behavior his essays spent a decade dissecting. His achievement so far is to have made productive power a serious subject of American political thought again: the argument that a nation's prosperity cannot be read off consumption, valuations, or import prices, and depends on what it can build, whether it can act in common, and whether its institutions can serve a future longer than the next quarter.<\/p>\n

Notes<\/p>\n

NAIA leadership page<\/a>, modified July 14, 2026, lists Krein<\/a> as Chief Executive Officer and Head of Policy, Bishop<\/a> as Chairman and Co-Founder, Slodov and Power<\/a> as Co-Founders. Member logos include Palantir<\/a>, Anduril<\/a>, Boeing<\/a>, Siemens<\/a>, Google<\/a>, Meta<\/a>, Y Combinator<\/a>, a16z<\/a>, General Catalyst<\/a>, Oklo<\/a>, Hadrian<\/a>, Atomic Industries<\/a>, JobsOhio<\/a>.<\/p>\n

Harvard Club launch scene: Kelefa Sanneh<\/a>, \u201cA New Trumpist Magazine D\u00e9buts at the Harvard Club,\u201d<\/a> The New Yorker<\/i><\/a>, February 24, 2017, source of the Kristol<\/a> quote and Krein’s \u201cpreserve the critique… and then he won\u201d remark, which I paraphrased to stay within one quote per source. Attendee list, Tanenhaus<\/a>, Mercer, Hertog, Lilla<\/a>, Lind<\/a>, Starobin, from \u201cNew Thinking on the Right,\u201d<\/a> The American Conservative<\/i><\/a>.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhiz kid\u201d: Eliana Johnson<\/a>, \u201cMeet the Whiz Kid Who Wants to Explain Trumpism,\u201d Politico<\/i><\/a>, January 3, 2017.<\/p>\n

Eureka<\/a> upbringing, parents Gary and Nancy, one sister, Eureka High 2004, Harvard<\/a> 2008, Mansfield, Bank of America<\/a>\/Blackstone<\/a>, Boston hedge fund during 2016, JAG<\/a> as Plautus<\/a>: Wikipedia<\/a> and the Hidden Forces podcast bio<\/a>. The Aberdeen American News<\/i><\/a> hometown story is real: \u201cEureka native catching attention with conservative magazine in age of Trump,\u201d January 28, 2017.<\/p>\n

Charlottesville<\/a> break: Julius Krein, \u201cI Voted for Trump. And I Sorely Regret It,\u201d<\/a> New York Times<\/i><\/a>, August 17, 2017; NPR interview<\/a> with Ailsa Chang<\/a>, August 21, 2017.<\/p>\n

NAIA launch December 11, 2024, Bishop’s Cleveland quote, \u201cgraft and timidity of the consultant class\u201d: PR Newswire release<\/a>. Forbes<\/i> launch coverage<\/a>, Steinman, founding lineup.<\/p>\n

Inc.<\/i> profile<\/a> calling Krein \u201cpresident and head of policy,\u201d September 2025, and the Oren Cass<\/a> praise. I handled the title shift as a shift, since the record shows chairman, January 2025 podcasts, president, Inc.<\/i>, then CEO, current site.<\/p>\n

\u201cSuffered from serious miscalculations\u201d on tariffs is Krein’s own published phrase from \u201cThe Lessons of Liberation Day,\u201d quoted in the Inc.<\/i> piece.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

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