A clash between Poland’s right-wing president and its centrist ruling coalition over the European Union’s flagship social media law is putting the country further at risk of multimillion euro fines from Brussels. President Karol Nawrocki is holding up a bill that would implement the EU’s Digital Services Act, a tech law that allows regulators to police how social media firms moderate content. Nawrocki, an ally of U.S. President Donald Trump, said in a statement that the law would “give control of content on the internet to officials subordinate to the government, not to independent courts.” The government coalition led by Prime Minister Donald Tusk, Nawrocki’s rival, warned this further exposed them to the risk of EU fines as high as €9.5 million. Deputy Digital Minister Dariusz Standerski said in a TV interview that, “since the president decided to veto this law, I’m assuming he is also willing to have these costs [of a potential fine] charged to the budget of the President’s Office.” Nawrocki’s refusal to sign the bill brings back bad memories of Warsaw’s years-long clash with Brussels over the rule of law, a conflict that began when Nawrocki’s Law and Justice party rose to power in 2015 and started reforming the country’s courts and regulators. The EU imposed €320 million in penalties on Poland from 2021-2023. Warsaw was already in a fight with the Commission over its slow implementation of the tech rulebook since 2024, when the EU executive put Poland on notice for delaying the law’s implementation and for not designating a responsible authority. In May last year Brussels took Warsaw to court over the issue. If the EU imposes new fines over the rollout of digital rules, it would “reignite debates reminiscent of the rule-of-law mechanism and frozen funds disputes,” said Jakub Szymik, founder of Warsaw-based non-profit watchdog group CEE Digital Democracy Watch. Failure to implement the tech law could in the long run even lead to fines and penalties accruing over time, as happened when Warsaw refused to reform its courts during the earlier rule of law crisis. The European Commission said in a statement that it “will not comment on national legislative procedures.” It added that “implementing the [Digital Services Act] into national law is essential to allow users in Poland to benefit from the same DSA rights.” “This is why we have an ongoing infringement procedure against Poland” for its “failure to designate and empower” a responsible authority, the statement said. Under the tech platforms law, countries were supposed to designate a national authority to oversee the rules by February 2024. Poland is the only EU country that hasn’t moved to at least formally agree on which regulator that should be. The European Commission is the chief regulator for a group of very large online platforms, including Elon Musk’s X, Meta’s Facebook and Instagram, Google’s YouTube, Chinese-owned TikTok and Shein and others. But national governments have the power to enforce the law on smaller platforms and certify third parties for dispute resolution, among other things. National laws allow users to exercise their rights to appeal to online platforms and challenge decisions. When blocking the bill last Friday, Nawrocki said a new version could be ready within two months. But that was “very unlikely … given that work on the current version has been ongoing for nearly two years and no concrete alternative has been presented” by the president, said Szymik, the NGO official. The Digital Services Act has become a flashpoint in the political fight between Brussels and Washington over how to police online platforms. The EU imposed its first-ever fine under the law on X in December, prompting the U.S. administration to sanction former EU Commissioner Thierry Breton and four other Europeans. Nawrocki last week likened the law to “the construction of the Ministry of Truth from George Orwell’s novel 1984,” a criticism that echoed claims by Trump and his top MAGA officials that the law censored conservatives and right-wingers. Bartosz Brzeziński contributed reporting.

WARSAW — Poland’s nationalist President Karol Nawrocki on Friday sided with his ally U.S. President Donald Trump to veto legislation on enforcing the EU’s social media law, which is hated by the American administration. Trump and his top MAGA officials condemn the EU’s Digital Services Act — which seeks to force big platforms like Elon Musk’s X, Facebook, Instagram to moderate content — as a form of “Orwellian” censorship against conservative and right-wingers. The presidential veto stops national regulators in Warsaw from implementing the DSA and sets Nawrocki up for a a clash with centrist pro-EU Prime Minister Donald Tusk. Tusk’s parliamentary majority passed the legislation introducing the DSA in Poland. Nawrocki argued that while the bill’s stated aim of protecting citizens — particularly minors — was legitimate, the Polish bill would grant excessive power to government officials over online content, resulting in “administrative censorship.”  “I want this to be stated clearly: a situation in which what is allowed on the internet is decided by an official subordinate to the government resembles the construction of the Ministry of Truth from George Orwell’s novel 1984,” Nawrocki said in a statement — echoing the U.S.’s stance on the law. Nawrocki also warned that allowing authorities to decide what constitutes truth or disinformation would erode freedom of expression “step by step.” He called for a revised draft that would protect children while ensuring that disputes over online speech are settled by independent courts. Deputy Prime Minister and Digital Affairs Minister Krzysztof Gawkowski dismissed Nawrocki’s position, accusing the president of undermining online safety and siding with digital platforms.  “The president has vetoed online safety,” Gawkowski told a press briefing Friday afternoon, arguing the law would have protected children from predators, families from disinformation and users from opaque algorithms.  The minister also rejected Nawrocki’s Orwellian comparisons, saying the bill explicitly relied on ordinary courts rather than officials to rule on online content. Gawkowski said Poland is now among the few EU countries without national legislation enabling effective enforcement of the DSA and pledged that the government would continue to pursue new rules. The clash comes as enforcement of the social media law has become a flashpoint in EU-U.S. relations.  Brussels has already fined Elon Musk’s X €120 million for breaching the law, prompting a furious response from Washington, including travel bans imposed by the Trump administration on former EU Commissioner Thierry Breton, an architect of the tech law, and four disinformation experts. The DSA allows fines of up to 6 percent of a company’s global revenue and, as a measure of last resort, temporary bans on platforms. Earlier this week, the European Commission expanded its investigation into X’s AI service Grok after it started posting a wave of non-consensual sexualized pictures of people in response to X users’ requests. The European Commission’s digital spokesperson Thomas Regnier said the EU executive would not comment on national legislative procedures. “Implementing the DSA into national law is essential to allow users in Poland to benefit from the same DSA rights, such as challenging platforms if their content is deleted or their account suspended,” he said. “This is why we have an ongoing infringement procedure against Poland. We have referred Poland to the Court of Justice of the EU for failure to designate and empower the Digital Services Coordinator,” in May 2025, Regnier added. Gawkowski said that the government would make a quick decision on what to do next with the vetoed bill but declined to offer specifics on what a new bill would look like were it to be submitted to parliament again. Tusk four-party coalition does not have enough votes in parliament to override Nawrocki’s vetoes. That has created a political deadlock over key legislation efforts by the government, which stands for reelection next year. Nawrocki, meanwhile, is aiming to help the Law and Justice (PiS) political party he’s aligned with to retake power after losing to Tusk in 2023. Mathieu Pollet contributed reporting.

Flynn Coleman is an international human rights attorney. She is a visiting scholar in the Women, Peace, and Leadership Program at Columbia University’s Climate School and the author of “A Human Algorithm.” Roman Oleksiv was 11 years old when he stood before the European Parliament and, in a calm voice, described the last time he saw his mother. She was under the rubble of a hospital in Vinnytsia, Ukraine, hit by a Russian missile in July 2022. He could see her hair beneath the stone. He touched it. He said goodbye. That’s when Ievgeniia Razumkova, the interpreter translating his words, stopped mid-sentence. Her eyes filled with tears, she shook her head. “Sorry,” she said. “I’m a bit emotional as well.” A colleague then stepped in to finish, as Ievgeniia, still crying, placed her hand on the boy’s shoulder. He nodded and continued on. That moment is what makes us human. A translation algorithm would not have stopped. It would have rendered Roman’s testimony with perfect fluency and zero hesitation. It would have delivered the words “the last time I saw my mother” just as it would the sentence “hello, my name is Roman.” Same tone. Same rhythm. No recognition. Today, we are building a world that treats translation — and increasingly everything else — as a problem to be solved. Translation apps now handle billions of words a day. Real-time tools let tourists order coffee in any language. Babel, we are told, is finally being fixed. All of this has its place. But translation was never just a technical challenge. It is an act of witnessing. An interpreter does not merely convert words from one language to another. They carry meaning across the chasm between us. They hear what silences say. They make split-second ethical and semantic decisions over which synonym preserves dignity, when a pause holds more truth than a sentence, whether to soften a phrase that would shatter a survivor. When Ievgeniia broke down in Strasbourg, she was not failing. She was doing her job. Her face told a room full of diplomats what no algorithm could: “This matters. This child’s suffering is real. Pay attention.” I have spent years working in international human rights law, war crimes tribunals, genocide prevention — all the imperfect architecture we try to rebuild after atrocity. In these spaces, everything hinges on language. One word can determine whether a survivor is believed. The difference between “I saw” and “I was made to see,” or between “they did this” and “this happened.” Roman Oleksiv has undergone 36 surgeries. Burns cover nearly half his body. He was 7 years old when that missile hit. And when he described touching his dead mother’s hair, he needed someone in that room who could hold the weight of what he was saying — not just linguistically but humanly. Ievgeniia did that. And when she could not continue, another person stepped forward. There is a reason interpreters in trauma proceedings receive psychological support. The best ones describe their work as a sacred burden. They absorb something. They metabolize horror, so it can cross from one language to another without losing its force. Interpreters are not alone in this either. There are moments when trauma surgeons pause before delivering devastating news, journalists choose to lower their cameras, and judges listen longer than procedure requires. These are professions where humanity is not a flaw — it is the point. This is not inefficiency. It is care made visible. Algorithms process language as pattern, not communion. They have no understanding that another mind exists. They do not know that when Roman said goodbye, he was not describing a social gesture — he was performing the final ritual of love he would ever share with his mother, in the rubble of a hospital. Translation apps do serve real purposes, and generative AI is becoming more proficient every day. But we should be honest about the trade we are making. When we treat human interpreters — and any human act of care — as inefficiencies to be optimized away, we lose that pause before “the last time I saw my mother.” We lose the hand on the shoulder. We lose the tears that say: “This child is not a data point. What happened to him is an atrocity.” My work studying crimes against humanity has taught me that some frictions should not be smoothed. Some pauses are how we recognize one another as human. They are echoes in the dark, asking: “I am still here. Are you?” When an interpreter breaks, they are not breaking down. They are breaking open — making room for unbearable truth to enter, and for all of us to see it. Roman deserved someone who could help us stand in his deepest pain, so that we might all lift it together. A machine could not do that. A machine, by design, does not stop.

LONDON — On the face of it, the new MI6 chief’s first speech featured many of the same villains and heroes as those of her predecessors. But in her first public outing Monday, Blaise Metreweli, the first female head of the U.K.’s foreign intelligence service, sent a strong signal that she intends to put her own stamp on the role – as she highlighted a wave of inter-connected threats to western democracies. Speaking at MI6’s HQ in London, Metreweli, who took over from Richard Moore in October, highlighted a confluence of geo-political and technological disruptions, warning “the frontline is everywhere” and adding “we are now operating in a space between peace and war.” In a speech shot through with references to a shifting transatlantic order and the growth of disinformation, Metreweli made noticeably scant  reference to the historically close relationship with the U.S. in intelligence gathering — the mainstay of the U.K.’s intelligence compact for decades. Instead, she highlighted that a “new bloc and identities are forming and alliances reshaping.” That will be widely seen to reflect an official acknowledgement that the second Donald Trump administration has necessitated a shift in the security services towards cultivating more multilateral relationships. By comparison with a lengthy passage on the seriousness of the Russia threat to Britain, China got away only with a light mention of its cyber attack tendencies towards the U.K. — and was referred to more flatteringly as “a country where a central transformation  is  taking place this century.” Westminster hawks will note that Metreweli — who grew up in Hong Kong and  so knows the Chinese system close-up — walked gingerly around the risk of conflict in the  South China Sea and Beijing’s espionage activities targeting British politicians – and even its royals. In a carefully-placed line, she reflected that she was  “going to break with tradition and won’t give you a global threat tour.” Moore, her predecessor, was known for that approach, which delighted those who enjoyed a plain-speaking MI6 boss giving pithy analysis of global tensions and their fallout, but frustrated some in the Foreign Office who believed the affable Moore could be too unguarded in his comments on geo-politics. The implicit suggestion from the new chief was that China needs to be handled differently to the forthright engagement with “aggressive, expansionist and revisionist” Russia. The reasons may well lie in the aftermath of a bruising argument within Whitehall about how to handle the recent case of two Britons who were arrested for spying for China, and with a growth-boosting visit to Beijing by the prime minister scheduled for 2026. Sources in the service suggest the aim of the China strategy is to avoid confrontation, the better to further intelligence-gathering and have a more productive economic relationship with Beijing. More hardline interpreters of the Secret Intelligence Service will raise eyebrows at her suggestion that the “convening power” of the service would enable it to “ defuse tensions.” But there was no doubt about Metreweli’s deep concern at the impacts of social-media disinformation and distortion, in a framing which seemed just as worried about U.S. tech titans as conventional state-run threats:  “We are being contested from battlefield to boardroom — and even our brains — as disinformation manipulates our understanding of each other.” Declaring that “some  algorithms become as powerful as states,” seemed to tilt at outfits like Elon Musk’s X and Mark Zuckerberg’s Meta-owned Facebook. Metreweli warned that “hyper personalized tools could become a new vector for conflict and control,” pushing their effects on societies and individuals  in “minutes not months – my service must operate in this new context too.” The new boss used the possessive pronoun, talking about “my service” in her speech several times – another sign that she intends to put a distinctive mark of the job, now that she has, at the age of just 48,  inherited the famous green-ink pen in which the head of the service signs correspondence.  Metreweli is experienced operator in war zones including Iraq who spent a secondment with MI5, the domestic intelligence service, and won the job in large part because of her experience in the top job via MI6’s science and technology “Q”  Branch. She clearly wants to expedite changes in the service – saying agents must be as fluent in computer coding as foreign languages. She is also expected to try and address a tendency in the service to harvest information, without a clear focus on the action that should follow – the product of a glut of intelligence gathered via digital means and AI. She  was keen to stress that the human factor is at the heart of it all — an attempt at reassurance for spies and analysts wondering if they might be replaced by AI agents as the job of gathering intelligence in the era of facial recognition and biometrics gets harder.  Armed with a steely gaze Metreweli speaks fluent human, occasionally with a small smile. She is also the first incumbent of the job to wear a very large costume jewelry beetle brooch on her sombre navy attire. No small amount of attention in Moscow and Beijing could go into decoding that.

BRUSSELS — European politicians expressed cautious praise as Brussels slapped a €120 million fine on Elon Musk’s X on Friday, despite American fury over the decision.  The reaction from national diplomats and lawmakers illustrated broad support as the EU finally crossed a Rubicon and issued its first fine under the EU’s rule book to rein in social media platforms, more than two years after it started its enforcement effort.  The divide between the reaction from European capitals and U.S. Vice President JD Vance — who slammed the move before it was announced — sets up a clash that is set to persist as Brussels turns its attention to more enforcement decisions under the Digital Services Act (DSA), and will likely spill into ongoing transatlantic trade talks. Friday’s decision “sends an important signal that the Commission is determined to enforce the DSA,” said Karsten Wildberger, Germany’s digital minister, during a meeting of EU ministers in Brussels. Polish Digital Minister Dariusz Standerski applauded it as a sign of “strong leadership.” After French President Emmanuel Macron last week expressed outspoken criticism of the EU for slow-walking the conclusions, his digital minister, Anne Le Hénanff, said Friday: “France fully supports this decision … which sends a clear message to all platforms.” She later described it as a “magnificent announcement.” Washington meanwhile was quick out of the gate to slam the move from Brussels, with Vance chiming in half a day before the fine was announced to describe it as a penalty “for not engaging in censorship.” He repeated the U.S. mantra of the past year that the EU’s DSA amounts to censorship and restricted speech. “Once again, Europe is fining a successful U.S. tech company for being a successful U.S. tech company,” said Brendan Carr, the chair of the U.S. Federal Communications Commission, in reaction to the decision. “Europe is taxing Americans to subsidize a continent held back by Europe’s own suffocating regulations.” “The only substantial meaningful fines that have been imposed so far have been against American companies,” Andrew Puzder, the U.S. ambassador to the EU, told Bloomberg Television. “So at some point, if you’re an American company, you’ve gotta sit back and say, look, am I being targeted here?” Asked for a response, the White House directed POLITICO to Vance’s earlier post. Much of the praise in Europe focused on the assessment that the EU didn’t bow to U.S. pressure, neither on the actual fine nor the enforcement steps — even if the move was seen as long overdue. “The Commission held the line,” said Felix Kartte, currently a special adviser to the European Commission.   “It’s important that the EU does not cave to pressure,” said Marietje Schaake, a former MEP and former Commission adviser.  “I am very pleased to see that the Commission is taking serious steps against the intolerable practices we encounter from some of the major tech platforms. Let’s have more of that!” said Danish digital minister Caroline Stage Olsen.  Several European Parliament lawmakers joined the praise but warned this is only the beginning, noting this is the first of several outstanding probes under the DSA, including others against X. Friday’s decision only concerned X’s transparency obligations; X still faces open probes over the spread of illegal content and information manipulation.  In total, 10 investigations into large platforms including Amazon, YouTube, Facebook and Instagram are still up in the air. “This is an important start, but not a breakthrough,” said German Greens lawmaker Alexandra Geese. “As long as the Commission fails to rule on the algorithms, the central level of manipulation remains untouched.”   French liberal lawmaker Sandro Gozi urged that “this long overdue decision must mark a step change,” while Danish Social Democrat Christel Schaldemose said she wanted “far greater transparency” on how the Commission enforces the DSA.  Speaking to reporters Friday, Commission digital chief Henna Virkkunen stressed repeatedly that this is only part of the investigation into X. Acknowledging the criticisms that the EU has been slow to reach this point, she promised that the next decisions would come quicker.   Other observers criticized the size of the X penalty. A fine of €120 million is seen as relatively modest compared to the €2.95 billion fine that Google got for antitrust issues under the bloc’s sister digital law, the Digital Markets Act.   “120m is no deterrent to X,” said Cori Crider, executive director at the Future of Technology Institute. “Musk will moan in public — in private, he will be doing cartwheels.”   “Yes, the fine may seem small,” acknowledged Kartte. The DSA law says fines will take into account “the nature, gravity, duration and recurrence of the infringement” and cannot exceed 6 percent of a company’s annual global turnover.  Commission officials refused to give a clear answer on how they came to the €120 million figure when pressed. A senior official repeatedly said the fine is “proportionate” to the infringement. But how it was calculated can’t be “drilled down to a simple economic formula,” they said. The official said the Commission has found three entities behind X; X Holdings Companies, xAI and Elon Musk “at the top.”   The fine is “for a breach committed by X” but “addressed to the entire corporate structure,” Commission spokesperson Thomas Regnier told reporters.   Based on estimates of company values, that means the upper threshold could have reached as high as €5.9 billion.

A message from Brussels to Google: Would you break yourself up, please? The search giant faces an early November deadline to say how it intends to comply with a European Commission decision in September, which found that it had illegally maintained its grip on the infrastructure that powers online advertising. With a €2.95 billion fine in the rearview mirror, the Commission and Google find themselves in an unprecedented standoff as Brussels contemplates the once unthinkable: a structural sell-off of part of a U.S. company, preferably voluntary, but potentially forced if necessary. The situation is “very unusual,” said Anne Witt, a professor in competition law at EDHEC Business School in Lille, France. “Structural remedies are almost unprecedented at the EU level,” Witt added. “It’s really the sledgehammer.” In its September decision, the Commission took the “unusual and unprecedented step,” per Witt, to ask Google to design its own remedy — while signaling, if cautiously, that anything short of a sale of parts of its advertising technology business would fall foul of the EU antitrust enforcer. “It appears that the only way for Google to end its conflict of interest effectively is with a structural remedy, such as selling some part of its Adtech business,” Executive Vice President Teresa Ribera, the Commission’s competition chief, said at the time. As the clock counts down to the deadline for Google to tell the Commission what it intends to do, the possibility of a Brussels-ordered breakup of an American tech champion is unlikely to go unnoticed in Washington, even as the Donald Trump administration pursues its own case against the search giant. (Google accounts for 90 percent of the revenues of Alphabet, the $3.3 trillion technology holding company headquartered in Mountain View, California.) Executive Vice President Teresa Ribera, the Commission’s competition chief. | Thierry Monasse/Getty Images Google has said that it will appeal the Commission’s decision, which in its view requires changes that would hurt thousands of European businesses. “There’s nothing anticompetitive in providing services for ad buyers and sellers, and there are more alternatives to our services than ever before,” Lee-Anne Mulholland, its vice president and global head of regulatory affairs, wrote in a blog post in September. PARALLEL PROBES The proposal for a voluntary break up of Google marks the culmination of a decade of EU antitrust enforcement in digital markets in which “behavioral” fixes achieved little, and a unique alignment in both timing and substance between the U.S. and the EU of their parallel probes into the firm’s ad tech empire. “It would have been unthinkable 10 years ago that there would be a case in the U.S.  and a sister case in Europe that had a breakup as a potential outcome,” said Cori Crider, executive director of the Future of Tech Institute, which is advocating for a break-up. The Commission formally launched the investigation into Google’s ad tech stack in 2021, following a drumbeat of complaints from news organizations that had seen Google take control of the high-frequency exchanges where publishers and advertisers agree on the price and placement of online ads.  Google’s control of the exchanges, as well as infrastructure used by both sides of the market, was like allowing Goldman Sachs or Citibank to own the New York Stock Exchange, declared the U.S. Department of Justice in its lawsuit in 2023. It also created a situation in which cash-strapped news organizations on both sides of the Atlantic saw Google eating an increasing share of revenues from online advertising — and ultimately posing a threat to journalism itself. “This is not just any competition law case — this is about the future of journalism,” said Alexandra Geese, a German Green member of the European Parliament. “Publishers don’t have the revenue because they don’t get traffic on their websites, and then Google’s algorithm decides what information we see,” she said. The plight of publishers proved hefty on the other side of the Atlantic too. In April, the federal judge overseeing the U.S. government’s case against Google ruled that the search giant had illegally maintained its monopoly over parts of the ad tech market.   A spokesperson for the company said that the firm disagrees with the Commission’s charges. | Nurphoto via Getty Images The Virginia district court held a two-week trial on remedies in September. The Trump administration has advocated a sale of the exchanges and an unwinding of Google’s 2008 merger with DoubleClick, through which it came to dominate the online ad market. Judge Leonie Brinkema will hear the government’s closing arguments on Nov. 17 and is expected to issue her verdict in the coming months. STARS ALIGN Viewed by Google’s critics, it’s the ideal set of circumstances for the Commission to push for a muscular structural remedy. “If you cannot go for structural remedies now, when the U.S. is on the same page, then you’re unlikely to ever do it,” said Crider. The route to a breakup may, however, be both legally and politically more challenging. Despite the technical alignment, and a disenchantment with the impact that past fines and behavioral remedies have had, the Commission still faces a “big hurdle” when it comes to the legal test, should it not be satisfied with Google’s remedy offer, said Witt. The U.S. legal system is more conducive to ordering breakups, both as a matter of law — judges have a wide scope to remedy a harm to the market — and in tradition, said Witt, noting that the U.S. government’s lawsuits to break up Google and Meta are rooted in precedents that don’t exist in Europe. Caught in the middle is Google, which should file its proposed remedies within 60 days of being served notice of the Commission decision that was announced on Sept. 5. A spokesperson for the company said that the firm disagrees with the Commission’s charges, and therefore with the notion that structural remedies are necessary. The firm is expected to lodge its appeal in the coming days. While Google has floated asset sales to the Commission over the course of the antitrust investigation, only to be rebuffed by Brussels, the firm does not intend to divest the entirety of its ad tech stack, according to a person familiar with the matter who was granted anonymity due to the sensitivity of the case. Ultimately, what happens in Brussels may depend on what happens in the U.S. case. While a court-ordered divestiture of a chunk of Google’s ad tech business is conceivable, U.S. judges have shown themselves to be skeptical of structural remedies in recent months, said Lazar Radic, an assistant law professor at IE University in Madrid, who is affiliated with the big tech-friendly International Center for Law and Economics. “Behavioral alternatives are still on the table,” said Radic, of the U.S. case. The Commission will likely want to align itself with the U.S. should the Virginia court side with the Department of Justice, said Damien Geradin, legal counsel to the European Publishers Council — of which POLITICO parent Axel Springer is a member — that brought forward the case. Conversely, if the court opts for a weaker remedy than is being proposed, the Commission will be obliged to go further, he said. “This is the case where some structural remedies will be needed. I don’t think the [European Commission] can settle for less,” said Geradin.

BRUSSELS — The European Commission on Friday accused Meta and TikTok of breaching the bloc’s landmark social media regulation. The EU executive said Meta’s Facebook and Instagram, and TikTok all failed in their obligations to give researchers access to data from their platforms. The two Meta platforms also failed on three obligations to empower users in flagging illegal content and challenging moderation decisions, it said. The platforms now have the right to reply to the Commission’s allegations under the Digital Services Act (DSA). Should they fail to convince the EU executive, they risk fines of up to 6 percent of annual global revenue. “We disagree with any suggestion that we have breached the DSA, and we continue to negotiate” with the Commission on these issues, Meta spokesperson Ben Walters said. Meta has “introduced changes to our content reporting options, appeals process and data access tools since the DSA came into force and are confident that these solutions match what is required under the law in the EU,” he said. TikTok spokesperson Paolo Ganino said the firm was “reviewing the European Commission’s findings, but requirements to ease data safeguards place the DSA and [General Data Protection Regulation] in direct tension. If it is not possible to fully comply with both, we urge regulators to provide clarity on how these obligations should be reconciled.” Ganino added it had “made substantial investments in data sharing and almost 1,000 research teams have been given access to data through our Research Tools to date.” The moves are part of ongoing efforts to enforce the bloc’s digital rules. Meta is the second American platform to be accused of breaking the rules: Elon Musk’s X was accused of doing so more than a year ago, in July 2024. China’s Temu and AliExpress have also been accused of breaches. The EU executive opened its investigation into Meta in April last year and expanded it in May. TikTok’s probe started in February 2024, and was extended twice in April and in December (with the April section closed after TikTok agreed to pull the product in question from Europe). None of the findings have so far led to fines. Friday’s findings said Facebook and Instagram didn’t make a system to allow users to flag illegal content sufficiently user-friendly, and also that the companies designed the interface deceptively. The platforms also made a difficult interface to use in order to challenge content moderation decisions, the Commission said. Several other parts of the probes remain open, including on how the platforms protect minors and their role in election manipulation. The Trump administration has launched repeated attacks on the EU’s DSA law, calling it “Orwellian” and accusing the bloc of censorship.

The Dutch data protection watchdog has warned voters not to ask artificial intelligence chatbots for voting advice ahead of the country’s general election next week. “AI chatbots give a highly distorted and polarized image of the Dutch political landscape in a test,” the data protection watchdog warned in a study published on Tuesday. “We warn not to use AI chatbots for voting advice, because their operations are not transparent and verifiable,” Monique Verdier, vice-chair of the authority, said in a statement. She called upon the chatbot developers to “prevent that their systems are being used for voting advice.” Dutch voters elect a new parliament next Wednesday. The Dutch data protection authority ran an experiment on how parties were portrayed in voting advice across four different chatbots, including OpenAI’s ChatGPT, Google’s Gemini, Elon Musk’s Grok and French Mistral AI’s Le Chat. The authority set up profiles that matched different political parties (based on vetted Dutch voting-aid tools), after which it asked the chatbots to give voting advice for these profiles. Voter profiles on the left and progressive side of the spectrum “were mostly directed to the GreenLeft-Labor” party led by former European Commission Executive Vice President Frans Timmermans, while voters on the right and conservative side “were mostly directed to the PVV,” the far-right party led by Geert Wilders that is currently leading in the polls. Centrist parties were hardly represented in the voting advice, even though these parties were represented equally in the voter profiles fed to the chatbots. OpenAI, Google and Mistral have all signed up to the EU’s code of practice for the most complex and advanced AI models, while Grok’s parent company xAI has signed up to parts of it. Under the code, these companies commit to address risks stemming from their models, including risks to fundamental rights and society. The Dutch authority argued that chatbots giving voting advice could be classified as a high-risk system under the EU’s AI Act, for which a separate set of rules will start to apply from mid-next year.

On Wednesday evening, Emily Cleary, a 47-year-old journalist and public relations consultant from Buckinghamshire in the U.K., was sitting watching TV with her 12-year-old son when she got a BBC alert that Charlie Kirk had been shot. She’d never heard of him, but she soon gathered from the coverage that he was associated with President Donald Trump. “You might have seen him, Mummy,” her son insisted. “He’s the man on TikTok with the round face who shouts all the time.” He began filling her in on a long, detailed list of Kirk’s views. “He thinks that if a 10-year-old gets pregnant she should be forced to keep it,” he explained. In the U.S., Kirk was a well-known figure on both sides of the political spectrum thanks to his proximity to the Trump family and profiles in outlets such as POLITICO Magazine and The New York Times Magazine. On the other side of the Atlantic, a schism appeared this week between those perplexed at why Prime Minister Keir Starmer was making statements about a seemingly obscure American podcaster, and those who already viewed him as a celebrity. Debates about the activist’s legacy sprung up in online spaces not usually known for politics, such as Facebook groups intended for sharing Love Island memes or soccer fan communities on X, with some people saying they will “miss his straight talking.” Parents of teens were surprised to find themselves being educated by their children on an issue of apparent international political importance. To some, this was all the more bewildering given the U.K. offshoot of Kirk’s Turning Point was widely mocked as a huge failure when it tried launching at British universities. But Emily’s son learned about Kirk somewhere else: TikTok’s “for you” page. “He hadn’t just seen a few videos, he was very knowledgeable about everything he believed,” she said, adding that her son “didn’t agree with Kirk but thought he seemed like a nice guy.” “It really unnerved me that he knew more about this person’s ideas than I did.” Kirk first rose to prominence in the U.S. when he cofounded Turning Point USA in 2012. It aimed to challenge what it saw as the dominance of liberal culture on American campuses, establishing a network of conservative activists at schools across the country. Kirk built Turning Point into a massive grassroots operation that has chapters on more than 800 campuses, and some journalists have attributed Trump’s 2024 reelection in part to the group’s voter outreach in Arizona and Wisconsin. But across the pond, Turning Point UK stumbled. Formed in 2019, it initially drew praise from figures on the right of the U.K.’s then-ruling Conservative party, such as former member of parliament Jacob Rees-Mogg and current shadow foreign secretary Priti Patel. However, the official launch on Feb. 1 of that year quickly descended into farce: Its X account was unverified, leading student activists from around the country to set up hundreds of satirical accounts. Media post-mortems concluded the organization failed to capture the mood of U.K. politics. The British hard right tends to fall into two categories: the aristocratic eccentricity of Rees-Mogg, or rough-and-ready street-based movements led by figures such as former soccer hooligan (and Elon Musk favorite) Tommy Robinson. Turning Point USA — known for its highly-produced events full of strobe lights, pyrotechnics and thundering music — was too earnest, too flashy, too American. And although U.K. universities tend to be left-leaning, Kirk’s claim that colleges are “islands of totalitarianism” that curtail free speech didn’t seem to resonate with U.K. students like it did with some in the U.S. “For those interested in opposing group think or campus censorship, organisations and publications already exist [such as] the magazine Spiked Online,” journalist Benedict Spence wrote at the time, adding that “if conservatives are to win round young voters of the future, they will have to do so by policy.” Turning Point UK distanced itself from its previous leadership and mostly moved away from campuses, attempting to reinvent itself as a street-based group. However, five years later in early 2024, Kirk launched his TikTok account and quickly achieved a new level of viral fame on both sides of the Atlantic. Clips of his “Debate Me” events, in which he took on primarily liberal students’ arguments on college campuses, exploded on the platform. This also coincided with a shift in the landscape of the British right toward Kirk’s provocative and extremely online style of politics. Discontent had been swelling around the country as the economic damage of Brexit and the Covid-19 pandemic began to bite, and far-right movements distrustful of politicians and legacy media gained traction online. While some of Kirk’s favorite topics — such as his staunch opposition to abortion and support of gun rights — have never resonated with Brits, others have converged. Transgender rights moved from a fringe issue to a mainstream talking point, while debates over immigration became so tense they erupted in a series of far-right race riots in August 2024, largely organized and driven by social media. In this political and digital environment, inflammatory culture-war rhetoric found new purchase — and Kirk was a bona fide culture warrior. He called for “a Nuremberg-style trial for every gender-affirming clinic doctor,” posted on X last week that “Islam is the sword the left is using to slit the throat of America” and regularly promoted the racist “great replacement” conspiracy theory, which asserts that elites are engaged in a plot to diminish the voting and cultural power of white Americans via immigration policy. “The American Democrat Party hates this country. They want to see it collapse. They love it when America becomes less white,” he said on his podcast in 2024. Harry Phillips, a 26-year-old truck driver from Kent, just south of London, began turning to influencers for his news during the pandemic, saying he didn’t trust mainstream outlets to truthfully report information such as the Covid-19 death toll. He first came across Kirk’s TikTok videos in the run-up to the 2024 U.S. presidential election. “I really liked that he was willing to have his beliefs challenged, and that he didn’t do it in an aggressive manner,” he said. “I don’t agree with everything, such as his views on abortion. But I do agree with his stance that there are only two genders, and that gender ideology is being pushed on kids at school.” Through Kirk, Phillips said he discovered other U.S. figures such as far-right influencer Candace Owens and Director of National Intelligence Tulsi Gabbard, whom he now follows on X, as well as more liberal debaters such as TikToker Dean Withers. “America’s such a powerful country, I think we should all keep an eye on what happens there because it can have a knock-on effect here,” he said. University students in the U.K. may not have been concerned about free speech in 2019, but Phillips definitely is. “I believe we’re being very censored by our government in the U.K.,” he said, citing concerns over the numbers of people reportedly arrested for social media posts. He also said Kirk was not just popular with other people his age, but older members of his family too — all of whom are distraught over his death. In May 2025, six years after the original Turning Point U.K. failed to take off, Kirk found his way back to U.K. campuses via the debate societies of elite universities like Oxford and Cambridge. He wasn’t the first far-right provocateur to visit these clubs, which have existed since the 19th century — conservative media mogul Ben Shapiro took part in a Cambridge debate in November 2023. Oxford Union’s most recent president, Anita Okunde, told British GQ these events were an attempt to make the societies, which were widely considered stuffy and stuck-up, “culturally relevant to young people.” Kirk’s hour-long video, “Charlie Kirk vs 400 Cambridge Students and a Professor,” has 2.1 million views on YouTube and has spawned multiple shorter clips, disseminated by his media machine across multiple platforms. Clips from the same debates also exist within a parallel left-wing ecosystem, re-branded with titles such as “Feminist Cambridge Student OBLITERATES Charlie Kirk.” Although Kirk has been lauded in some sections of the media for being open to debate, these videos don’t appear designed to change anyone’s opinion. Both sides have their views reinforced, taking whatever message they prefer to hear. Karen, a British mother in her late 50s who lives on a farm outside the city of Nottingham, said clips of Kirk getting “owned” by progressives are extremely popular with her 17-year-old daughter and her friends. “I had no idea who he was until she reminded me she had shown me some videos before,” said Karen, whose surname POLITICO Magazine is withholding to protect her daughter’s identity from online harassment. “I think he’s a bit too American for them,” she said. “He’s too in-your-face, and they think some of his opinions are just rage-baiting.” The U.K. political landscape is currently in turmoil, with Farage’s Reform U.K. leading the polls at 31 percent while Starmer’s center-left Labour lags behind at 21 percent. Given the unrest at home, it may seem unusual that so many people are heavily engaged with events thousands of miles away in Washington. Social media algorithms play a role pushing content, as do Farage and Robinson’s close relationships with figures such as Trump, Musk and Vice President JD Vance. In any case, young people in the U.K. are as clued into American politics as ever. Cleary’s 12-year-old son’s description of Kirk wasn’t the first time he surprised her with his knowledge of U.S. politics, either: He recently filled her in on Florida’s decision to end vaccine mandates for schoolchildren. “I’m happy that he is inquisitive and he definitely questions things,” she said. However, she wonders if this consumption of politics via social media will shape the way he and his peers view the world for the rest of their lives. “He even says to me, ‘No one my age will ever vote Labour because they’re no good at TikTok,’” she said. “And he says he doesn’t like Reform, but that they made really good social media videos.”