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Jesus!
I’ve been at this Substack thing for ten months and this Regret Now shtick is in its seventh installment. You said it, man.
I’ve been doing this Regret Project thing where I publish regrets that you, dear reader, want to get off your chest. I think I have maybe two more regrets left in the queue, which I'll tackle in the next installment. After that, I'll need to wind down this little diversion.
I won’t cover responses to the month’s posts here. I’ll do that next month. I want to get a major regret of my own off my chest instead. This has been gnawing at me for years, but I never had the courage to speak about it publicly. This post will be deeply paywalled, so I feel safer here talking to just you, my trusted paid subscribers. If you've spent any time in left-leaning online spaces over the past decade—so basically any online space where academics congregate—you'll understand my trepidation.
I want to write about Jesse Singal and my regrets around him...
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