Last week, TikTok‘s Chinese parent company, ByteDance, finalized a deal that gave a group of U.S. investors an 80 percent stake in TikTok USDS Joint Venture LLC, an entity which now operates the app within the country, and has free rein to moderate content that Americans share on the video platform. The companies with stakes in the U.S. version of TikTok include Oracle, the software company founded by billionaire Larry Ellison, one of the richest people in the world and a close ally of Donald Trump, as well as Emirati investment company MGX, which was previously involved in a crypto deal done with a digital currency developed by the Trump family’s World Liberty Financial.
This unusual ownership coalition and its ties to the Trump administration have raised concerns about the security and privacy of U.S. TikTokers, as well as questions about whether videos on politically fraught subjects may be blocked or hidden to quell criticism of the government. Over the past several days, many American users have claimed that their comments on the need to resist or abolish U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) — calls for action prompted by the murders of Renee Good and Alex Pretti by federal agents during the chaotic siege of Minneapolis this month — were suppressed, with clips often receiving zero views. Comedian and Hacks star Meg Stalter, for example, announced via Instagram on Sunday that she would delete TikTok after she discovered that the app wasn’t letting her post anything about ICE. Stalter claimed that “we are being completely censored and monitored.”
In addition to venting suspicions of being silenced because their videos were stuck indefinitely “under review,” American users also reported that their For You Page was no longer serving personally targeted content, and, in some cases, that they couldn’t log in at all.
On Monday, TikTok USDS sought to dispel accusations that it was effectively administering state-controlled media with a comment blaming technical glitches for any perceived censorship. “Since yesterday we’ve been working to restore our services following a power outage at a U.S. data center impacting TikTok and other apps we operate,” the joint venture said on its X account. “We’re working with our data center partner to stabilize our service. We’re sorry for this disruption and hope to resolve it soon.” In an update on Tuesday, TikTok USDS added: “We’ve made significant progress in recovering our U.S. infrastructure with our U.S. data center partner. However, the U.S. user experience may still have some technical issues, including when posting new content.”
In the meantime, the company said, those accessing TikTok in the U.S. “may notice multiple bugs, slower load times, or timed-out requests, including when posting new content.” It also acknowledged that users were seeing view counts of zero and inaccurate earnings data, describing these as display errors caused by server timeouts.
But while a data center blackout may account for these problems, which have escalated a collective paranoia over how TikTok USDS might seek to filter certain hot-button topics, users noted another curious wrinkle. As seen in screenshots disseminated on other social media platforms and independently confirmed by Rolling Stone, anyone attempting to send the name “Epstein” in a TikTok direct message on Monday received an error message that read: “This message may be in violation of our Community Guidelines, and has not been sent to protect our community. If you believe this was a mistake, let us know so we can review this along with recent messages.” The same warning was triggered by more direct references to the late sex offender Jeffrey Epstein, such as “Jeffrey Epstein is alive,” or “Trump and Epstein were best friends.”
As of Tuesday, it was once again possible to mention Jeffrey Epstein in TikTok DMs without triggering the content warning. Reached for comment, TikTok USDS said that it did not have rules against sharing the name “Epstein” in direct messages and was investigating why some of these DMs had apparently run afoul of community guidelines. Other users had not encountered this issue, the company claimed.
Videos about Epstein, his known associates, and files related to his crimes remained accessible on TikTok even while certain users were blocked from sending messages that named him. Yet users interpreted the blocked DMs as evidence of possible corporate meddling in their private conversations. Some quickly jumped to the conclusion that TikTok USDS was complicit in a scheme to shield Trump and other public figures linked to Epstein. On X, California Gov. Gavin Newsom shared a screenshot showing a flagged Epstein message and declared that it was “time to investigate,” adding, “I am launching a review into whether TikTok is violating state law by censoring Trump-critical content.”
The president has been haunted by the specter of his longtime friend throughout the first year of his second term in office, having failed to deliver on a campaign promise to unseal millions of documents from law enforcement investigations of Epstein’s notorious sex trafficking operation. More than a month after a Congress-imposed Dec. 19 deadline for the Justice Department to release these materials, just a tiny fraction have been made public. A recent CNN poll found that half of Americans are dissatisfied with how the case has been handled, while two-thirds believe the government is intentionally withholding information.
Even while Trump has tried to distance himself from Epstein, noting that they had a falling out in the mid-2000s, continuous reporting on their close relationship over more than a decade has taken its toll. His attempts to wave away eyebrow-raising artifacts such as an innuendo-laden letter he wrote to Epstein for his 50th birthday have occasionally escalated into contempt for his own supporters, whom he attacked last summer for caring about a “bullshit” scandal he sought, unconvincingly, to dismiss as a “hoax.”
Besides the data center troubles and the still unexplained blocking of the Epstein DMs, TikTok USDS has faced scrutiny for the terms of its user agreement. After the U.S. takeover, American users were prompted to sign amended policy guidelines that reflected the venture’s broadened power to collect data from customers, including “precise” GPS location and data from user interactions with TikTok’s AI tools. This language raised alarm bells from activists who warned that the app could theoretically be used to track the movements of protesters, though the GPS feature has reportedly not yet been enabled and is expected to be opt-in only.
Similarly, while the current agreement states that TikTok can collect sensitive information about a user’s “sexual life or sexual orientation, status as transgender or nonbinary, citizenship or immigration status” — a condition that spooked many given the current political climate in the U.S. — this same disclosure appeared in earlier terms of service, in compliance with state laws on consumer privacy and corporate transparency. Moreover, Oracle, which is handling data storage for TikTok in the U.S., began storing American user data back in 2022 as a means of limiting ByteDance’s ability to access this material, so anyone in the U.S. who has been on TikTok since then has already consented to that arrangement.
An important change under the TikTok USDS joint venture, however, is that Oracle will oversee any changes to a licensed copy of TikTok’s algorithm, which determines what ultimately shows up in everyone’s scrolling feeds. Contrary to some claims, videos assailing ICE for their violence in Minnesota are not presently being restricted; the company could, however, put a thumb on the scale when it comes to political content. From Trump’s Truth Social to Elon Musk‘s X, right-wing ideologues have looked for every advantage in setting the terms, incentives, and limitations of online discourse. We have yet to see exactly what the Trump allies at the helm of the newly formed U.S. TikTok will do with influence over its core functionality, but for the moment, people are on high alert for anything amiss.
Romana Didulo and her followers took over a decommissioned school in Saskatchewan and painted it purple. Zander Sherman
Many of Didulo’s followers found her through her videos and other social media channels.
Didulo speaks at a protest of Covid vaccine mandates on Parliament Hill in Ottawa, Ontario, Canada Feb. 3, 2022. Patrick Doyle/REUTERS
Ashley St. Germaine is a senior investigative officer with the RCMP in Regina, Saskatchewan.
Brad Miller was mayor of Richmound, a prairie town of about 120 people, when Didulo and her followers moved into the old school.Zander Sherman
After the encounters with the Kingdom, Miller sleeps with a firearm under his bed.
After Didulo and her followers moved into the old school, a fence was constructed around the property.
Didulo and several followers were arrested in 2025 during a raid on the school.Shawn Mullin/Swift Current Online
Cherry Torres, Jay Armstrong Johnson, Jimin Moon, Ryan Duncan, and Ryann Redmond Matthew Murphy*
Cherry Torres, Jimin Moon, Ryann Redmond, Jay Armstrong Johnson, and Ryan Duncan Marc J Franklin*
Christine Wonsley with her husband, Elmore (second from left), attorney Ben Crump (left), and Rev. Al Sharpton (right), during a memorial service for her son Nolan Xavier Wells.Gerald Herbert/AP
Donald Trump and FIFA President Gianni Infantino stand as Spain celebrates its World Cup victory, on July 19, 2026.
America Got the World Cup It Deserves — Good and Bad
For the past six weeks or so I’ve been having a recurring fight with my friends. The dispute is over whether or not it’s ethical to support the U.S. national team in the World Cup.
To the vast majority of people reading this article, this is an absurd question: of course you can and should support the United States Men’s National Team, you weirdo. And look, I’m with you. But despite the fact that my friends are pompous dorks who are no fun to watch the game with, the question they raise is valid: Are our national teams avatars of the administration in power, or of the people and promise of that country?
If you believe the former, then yeah, it’s pretty fucking weird to support the USMNT. In doing so, by that thinking, you’d be engaging in a sort of athletic nationalism on behalf of a country run by Donald Trump, the most corrupt president in history, who forced the Iranian national team to flee across the border immediately after the final whistle of each of their games, whose federal police have shot numerous civilians dead in the street during a brutal immigration crackdown, who has started a war and supported a genocide while covering up his close personal friendship with the most notorious pedophile in modern history.
I mean just look at him. On Sunday he waddled down onto the field to present Spain with their trophy, lingering on stage with the victorious team as they tried to celebrate. The presence of Mexican President Claudia Steinbaum and Canadian Prime Minister Mark Carney did little to dilute the image of Trump standing next to his crony Gianni Infantino, grinning at all the trappings of their power, hands caressing a trophy they’d done nothing to earn, lingering well past his cue to leave Spain to their glory. This World Cup, literally, had Donald Trump’s fingerprints all over it.
And yet, this was one of the most thrilling, beautiful World Cups in recent memory. That’s America, baby — contradictions abound.
Over the past five weeks of the greatest athletic competition on Earth, we’ve seen games that will literally never leave my memory. The final, which I attended yesterday in New Jersey, was remarkably forgettable — a 0-0 draw until the 106th minute, with Spain dominating every second of play and yet unable to score, undone time and time again by their insistence on tricksy passing and the personal heroics of Argentina’s goalkeeper Emi Martinez. The rest of the tournament, however, delivered. Cabo Verde, refusing to lose until the very last moments of the first knockout round, battling back again and again against both teams that would eventually play in the final. The sheer dominance of France’s Kylian Mbappe in front of goal, scoring at will, rivaled only by the aging GOAT Leo Messi and the Norwegian warlord Erling Haaland. England’s heroic stand at the Estadio Azteca in Mexico City, 45 minutes in the rain, a man down, holding out for the win and singing “Wonderwall” with what felt like half the stadium when it ended. Off the pitch, too: the Algerian national team being welcomed with open arms by Lawrence, Kansas; Scottish braves drinking Boston dry and partying wildly with Haitian fans that overcame so much just to be at the tournament. In Mexico, of course, the World Cup was everything, and its fans threw joyous South Koreans pumped full of tequila into the air, and celebrated in the streets with opposing fans even after their hard-fought defeat to England.
For the United States, what the 2026 World Cup was — what our team was, what our fans were, what our performance as hosts was — is a reflection of two things at once: what our nation is and what it can be.
Our star striker, Folarin Balogun, was born here by accident, a citizen only because of a birthright system that our president is currently trying to erase. We have Ricardo and Giovanni and Freeman and Zendejas. We have another striker whose name is Haji, for goodness sake. I look at that team and I see the country America can be, one in which any soul born in or living within our arbitrary borders can become part of a great national project that seeks to improve the lives of everyone it can. And yet, I can also look at that team and see a reflection of what the country is, because there is an anchor around its neck. When Balogun was — albeit unjustly — suspended for a crucial match, Trump himself stepped in. Cronyism saved the day and got Balogun reinstated, but ruined the fragile harmony the team had enjoyed. On the pitch against Belgium, they came apart. Temperamental star Christian Pulisic tried to go alone and then quit, aging defender Tim Ream’s legs failed him when he needed them most, a young goalkeeper slipped and fell when he had no good options for support.
What more can you say about a team, about our country? The team is an entity that is capable of more but still has so far to go, that is vulnerable to the same forces of avarice and selfishness and fear that plague our national identity writ large.
It’s possible to end the story there, to say good riddance to another failed year and fractured team. But I think that’s a mistake. I think if you believe that you haven’t really been watching. I think that’s also why it pissed me off so much that some of my friends wouldn’t root for the U.S. Yes, we have flaws, like every country involved in the tournament. Yes, our current team management and political government are filled with morons. But if you won’t put on the shirt you’re essentially opting out of our future. We can’t wait around for a better world, a better team, a better president, before we deign to lend our support. Progress only comes from effort, from caring, from believing in something more.
One of my favorite images of the World Cup was a crowd shot of the opening match against Paraguay in Los Angeles: every race, color and creed of American there is, all covered in red white and blue. It’s corny and trite, sure. But that’s what it’s all about. That’s why we’re here. You have to believe. The U.S. won that game 4-2. In four years, we’ll be even better.