Excess demand and ultra-low mortgage rates fueled the housing boom until about 2023, but like all cycles, momentum faded as rates rose and affordability cracked. At the same time, pandemic-era policy and taxes pushed people and firms out of states like New York and California, a migration that has since largely settled as state-level political and economic conditions stabilized.

Even with long-term yields and mortgage rates easing—30-year mortgages now near three-year lows—they remain far above the ultra-cheap levels of the early 2020s. Monthly payments are still out of reach for many buyers, and sellers now outnumber buyers by record margins, a sharp reversal from the recent era of frenzied bidding wars and over-ask offers.

In a boom, buyers panic and overpay; in a cooling market, they do the opposite—step back when the numbers no longer add up. That’s exactly what Redfin’s cancellation data reflects: buyers walking away during inspections and contingencies as the true cost of homeownership reveals itself. This is not 2008—there’s no wave of forced defaults driven by reckless credit—but rather a pre-emptive slowdown where buyers and lenders are exercising caution before deals close. With mortgage rates above long-term norms, property taxes and insurance elevated, and wages lagging a decade-long surge in home prices, affordability has deteriorated sharply. Younger buyers are the main casualties, as “starter homes” have quietly evolved into luxury items in disguise.

This isn’t a buyer’s market or a seller’s market—it’s a reality check, where deals die on affordability before debt ever has the chance to default.

In the brave new cloud economy, your data is declared “secure” the moment it stops being yours: once uploaded, it is diligently guarded by corporations who cooperate seamlessly with governments “for your safety.” Microsoft’s quiet handover of BitLocker recovery keys to the FBI was not a scandal but a syllabus reminder—encryption works perfectly until the custodian of the key receives a polite warrant. Sold as convenience, cloud-stored keys ensure that forgetting your password is optional, but privacy is not. As Orwell might have updated it: all data is encrypted, but some encryption is more cooperative than others.

https://www.inc.com/leila-sheridan/microsoft-handed-encryption-keys-to-the-fbi-heres-why-it-could-matter-to-you/91292072

Encryption only works when the key belongs to you alone; once the state keeps a spare, privacy becomes ceremonial. Apple’s stand against the FBI once symbolized this principle, but “national security” quickly proved stronger than math. Backdoors were rebranded as safety features, compliance as patriotism, and every government lined up for a master key. Last year, the UK went further, demanding access to all Apple cloud data worldwide—because privacy is safest when shared with intelligence agencies. And if the Brits grab it first and pass it to Washington, don’t worry: your constitutional rights remain perfectly intact, at least on paper.

https://support.apple.com/en-us/122234

Anything stored in the cloud is, by definition, pre-approved for government curiosity. You have no constitutional rights there—only terms and conditions—and the state may claim, inspect, or even contribute to your data as it sees fit.
This quiet erosion of privacy has shifted power decisively from individuals to governments and corporations, so cloud access demands are hardly surprising.

The real endgame is digital IDs and digital money: a fully online life, perfectly legible, programmable, and controllable. The NSA already sits deep inside the digital financial plumbing—because in the modern world, Big Brother doesn’t knock anymore; he syncs.

https://groups.csail.mit.edu/mac/classes/6.805/articles/money/nsamint/nsamint.htm

In a nutshell, in the brave new cloud, your data is “secure” precisely because it’s no longer yours—encrypted for show, shared for safety, and perfectly legible to Big Brother, who now governs by sync, not by knock.

Remember Diella, the AI “sun” installed by Microsoft as Albania’s first digital minister to banish corruption with algorithmic purity? In classic Orwellian fashion, the machine tasked with cleansing public tenders now presides over an agency whose human chiefs have been arrested for bribery, intimidation, and cozy ties to criminal gangs.

https://english.gossiplankanews.com/2026/01/the-two-individuals-responsible-for-ai.html

In a nutshell, transparency was automated; corruption, it seems, was merely upgraded.

As investigations unfold and the Prime Minister declines comment, the lesson is clear: in the age of AI governance, corruption isn’t eliminated—it’s just managed by software, supervised by officials under house arrest, all while the EU application remains optimistically “under review.”

After selling Britain’s gold at the cycle low, the Bank of England is now cutting costs by flogging a Wimbledon-linked sports club. 🏆💷

From bullion to backhands, Threadneedle Street proves central banking is less about timing markets and more about perfecting the art of selling the family silver—twice.

https://news.bloomberglaw.com/banking-law/bank-of-england-mulls-sale-of-wimbledon-tennis-qualifying-ground

After “Wuhan China,” the panic machine is teasing a new ‘plandemic’: Nipah from India—a scary-sounding bat virus with ugly stats, recycled outbreaks, and zero box-office proof of a global takeover. Big headlines, dramatic numbers, lots of CAPS energy—same old playbook, different virus?

Airports across Asia are back to ritual temperature checks after two contained Nipah cases in India—because nothing says “abundance of caution” like thermometers at arrivals. Singapore, Thailand, and Malaysia are screening, India says the situation is under control, and the UK—where there have been exactly zero cases—is issuing travel advisories anyway, just in case education spreads faster than the virus.

https://news.sky.com/story/what-is-nipah-virus-the-highly-lethal-disease-causing-concern-across-asia-13500185

In a nutshell, new virus, same script: ominous headlines, airport thermometers, zero global spread—panic marketed as precaution while Nipah stays contained and the playbook stays unchanged.

With the shutdown circus warming up for yet another encore, the Treasury quietly wrapped up the week’s coupon sales, with a $44bn 7-year.

The paper cleared at a 4.018% high yield, breaking back above 4% for the first time since July and marching up from December’s 3.930%. It also managed a modest 0.4bp tail versus the 4.014% When-Issued level—because of course it did—marking the fifth tail in the last six auctions. In short: demand showed up, but only out of a sense of duty, not enthusiasm.

The bid-to-cover ratio didn’t exactly scream enthusiasm either, slipping to 2.454 from December’s 2.509—its weakest showing since September and comfortably below the six-auction average of 2.516. In other words, buyers showed up, but some clearly forgot to bring their excitement.

The internals offered a mild consolation prize. Indirect bidders stepped up, taking 66.9% of the auction, a notable rebound from 59.0% last month and well above the six-auction average of 61.8%. Directs, however, quietly headed for the exits, with allocations falling to 22.2% from 31.6%. That left dealers doing what they do best in these situations: absorbing the leftovers. They were awarded 10.9%, up from 9.3% in December and slightly above the recent average of 10.2%.

Overall, a thoroughly mediocre, tailing auction — not a disaster, not a triumph, just another polite yawn from the bond market. Still, one day it may be remembered fondly, once investors fully accept that the so-called “risk-free” asset has quietly become the riskiest thing in the room.

When fiscal discipline turns into political theater and the dollar into a policy weapon, Treasuries stop being boring and start being adventurous. In that light, this auction wasn’t weak — it was just early to the punchline.

Listen to The Month That It Was in January 2026 from The Macro Butler.

You can now also listen to this podcast on YouTube; Rumble & TikTok.

https://themacrobutler.substack.com/p/the-month-that-it-was-january-2026

The affordability crisis, of course, is a shocking revelation—at least if you live inside the comfortable bubble of the Washington swamp. For everyone else, it’s been obvious for years: inflation isn’t just about demand, shortages, or fading trust in public institutions, but also about governments spending like the credit card has no limit. Unsurprisingly, a new Plasma study shows the fastest-rising cost-of-living cities are a greatest-hits album of policy excellence and fiscal illiteracy: New York City, San Diego, San Francisco, Los Angeles, Seattle, Boston, Philadelphia, San Jose, Chicago, and Baltimore. In other words, the places most eager to lecture the rest of the country on economics are doing a stellar job making daily life unaffordable.

https://www.foxbusiness.com/economy/new-study-shows-cities-where-cost-living-rising-fastest

It’s no coincidence that the most expensive metros read like a roll call of deep-blue governance: higher taxes, thicker regulation, and zoning rules so tight they could pass for rent control cosplay. Studies from Berkeley and BEA data confirm this isn’t a fluke but a 15-year trend—blue states consistently run higher costs across housing, utilities, goods, and services, with housing about 50% pricier and utilities roughly 45% more expensive than in red or purple areas. While every city feels inflation, blue cities feel it harder, thanks to strong demand colliding with policy-engineered housing shortages, environmental mandates, and zoning laws that make building homes harder than passing a budget on time.
https://besi.berkeley.edu/publication/what-drives-high-costs-in-blue-states/