Bruno Le Maire sat down with Thinkerview, and the comment sections fixed on the interviewer’s crude, familiar tone: the office, apparently, commands respect. That is an Ancien Régime sentiment, because in a republic deference runs from the officeholder toward the sovereign, and what the office adds is not immunity from rudeness but an obligation to account for itself. Yet these critics are holding a good argument they never use: what was missing was not respect, it was the follow-up question. Behind the interview lies the same prosecutorial liturgy that runs on prime-time television, with the prosecutor’s allegiance reversed and the job description unchanged. And as long as accountability exists nowhere, not at the ballot box, not in Parliament, not before a judge, even the best interviews will remain substitutes for the real thing.
The French Senate wants to hunt down “domestic interference,” an oxymoron that turns the critical citizen into a foreigner in his own country. Let’s take them at their word: applied honestly, their own definition points not to alternative media or anonymous accounts, but to the circulatory system connecting the machinery of the French state to McKinsey, Lazard, FTI, and General Electric. From Bruno Le Maire at Macro Advisory Partners to the McKinsey nexus under judicial investigation since 2022, the list is long, documented, and signed off at every step by the official ethics bodies. At the top, the revolving door is an asset; at the bottom, citizen speech is a risk to be mapped before 2027. Domestic interference is real: it doesn’t post, it invoices.
On July 1, 2026, Sony buried the physical disc and absorbed its players’ fury without flinching, just as the Élysée has absorbed street protests for eight years. This indifference is no accident: the French still believe their elected officials owe them an accounting the way employees answer to a boss, while the system has methodically defused that balance of power, from the Matignon Accords to the pension reform, by way of the betrayed referendum of 2005. Constitutional locks, hardened policing doctrine, the discrediting of dissent, all the way to a QR code required to commemorate the storming of the Bastille: every crisis has been a training session for those in power. The sovereign customer and the citizen-employer died the same death, the death of the power to make anyone bend. What remains is to rebuild our levers, in our institutions and in our digital lives.
On July 8, 2026, the French Senate published Report No. 875 on the regulation of information in the digital space: fifty-six recommendations, the very first of which proposes to “render invisible” certain users as elections approach. Behind a largely accurate economic diagnosis unfolds a complete apparatus: a disinformation observatory, a legal definition of truth, offenses without intent, ethics-based accreditation, and media promoted by algorithms configured on government instruction. No one will be forbidden to speak; some will simply be unfindable, unfunded, unrecognized. Having outsourced its censorship to Brussels, France is now bringing the political administration of visibility in-house. A recommendation-by-recommendation analysis, written by one of the parties concerned.
Four years of investigation, search after search, and still no resolution: the McKinsey affair is no longer merely a suspicion of irregular financing of the Macron campaigns, it has become a revealing X-ray of how French justice works. The 2022 Senate report established the inconvenient facts: over one billion euros spent on consultants in 2021 alone, and a firm that paid zero corporate income tax in France for ten years. Against that backdrop, comparing judicial tempos is a cruel exercise: an inquiry opened the very day of the revelations for Fillon, immediate enforcement for Le Pen, eight years and a quiet closure for Mélenchon, perpetual suspension for the party in power. One clock, though, is ticking unwatched: Article 67 of the Constitution, which will make Macron an ordinary citizen before the law in June 2027. Seen from that angle, the next presidential election will also be an election about the judicial fate of the previous one.
Every year in France, nearly 50 billion euros in public funding flows into the nonprofit sector. Behind the legitimate delivery of public services hides a major democratic drift: the funding of organizations whose sole activity is manufacturing rules and influencing policy. Subsidized by the very State they claim to watch, these groups use taxpayer money to wage permanent legal warfare, paralyzing projects and replacing the voters’ ballot with litigation. By losing their financial independence, these precious countervailing powers have changed in nature. Our democracy’s watchdog has become the administration’s lapdog.
Only a few years ago, a truck used to come down your street. You set the bin out the night before, and by morning it was empty. The service was delivered, paid for by the household waste collection tax, and written in black and white into the intercommunal budget. That truck is slowly fading from […]