The Milan Olympics: A Mirror to Our Fractured World

Twenty-eight figure skating community members perished in last month's Washington D.C. plane crash, including the parents of Team USA's Maxim Naumov. As the 2026 Milan Winter Olympics begin today, this isn't just another sports festival—it's become a complex mirror reflecting our era's deepest tensions and transformations.

The Games arrive at a moment when sports can no longer escape the gravitational pull of technology, politics, and cultural upheaval. From AI judges to immigration raids, from climate protests to generational rebellion, Milan 2026 offers a fascinating lens through which to examine where we are as a global society.

When Machines Judge Human Excellence

The most visible change at these Games is the wholesale embrace of artificial intelligence. Figure skating now features AI systems that automatically capture jump heights and air time, building on the gymnastics judging tech that debuted in Paris 2024. What was once purely human judgment is increasingly algorithmic.

But technology's advance creates unexpected problems. Copyright disputes have become so complex that some figure skaters are turning to AI-generated music to avoid licensing fees. Spain's Tomàs-Llorenç Guarino Sabaté faced a bizarre battle with Universal Pictures over his signature Minions soundtrack, spawning the internet phenomenon #Minionsgate.

The stakes of technological precision are literally measured in millimeters. Three Norwegian ski jump staff members were suspended for illegally modifying athletes' crotch areas—tiny alterations that could provide crucial aerodynamic advantages in what insiders call "the battle of millimeters."

Meanwhile, prediction markets like Polymarket have seen millions of dollars wagered on individual competitions, marking these as perhaps the first truly mainstream betting Olympics. The intersection of AI, sports, and gambling creates a new ecosystem where human performance becomes algorithmic speculation.

America as the Global Villain

Perhaps the most psychologically fascinating subplot involves Team USA's unusual position as international pariah. The deployment of ICE agents to Milan sparked outrage from Italian officials, with Milan's governor calling them "a militia that kills" and declaring "they are not welcome."

This represents a dramatic role reversal from 1980, when the U.S. hockey team's victory over the Soviet Union became the ultimate underdog story. Today, America enters as the second-favorite behind Canada but will likely face hostile crowds. How will American athletes—many of whom are immigrants or children of immigrants—navigate representing a nation whose immigration policies they may personally oppose?

Donald Trump's recent calls to annex Canada as "the 51st state" have already inflamed tensions in hockey, traditionally America's most patriotic Olympic sport. The psychological complexity of rooting for Team USA while opposing its government creates an unprecedented emotional landscape for American viewers.

The Physics-Breaking Generation

Twenty-one-year-oldIlia Malinin embodies a generation that refuses to accept previous limitations. He's the first and only skater to land a quadruple axel in international competition, and in December, he landed a record seven quadruple jumps in a single program. The Atlantic dubbed him "the man who broke physics."

Similarly, 20-year-oldAlysa Liu returned from a two-year hiatus with a radical approach: designing her own costumes, choosing her own music (lots of Lady Gaga), sporting a smiley piercing and halo-striped hair. Her aesthetic rebellion represents how Gen Z athletes are redefining self-expression in traditionally conservative sports.

The Games' mascots, Milo and Tina, are explicitly branded as "the first openly Gen Z" Olympic representatives. These scarf-wearing weasels, designed by Italian schoolchildren, signal the Olympics' attempt to connect with younger audiences who view authenticity and individuality as paramount values.

Climate Reality Meets Winter Sports

The climate crisis looms over every Winter Olympics now. The IOC is considering moving future Games earlier in the year to chase colder weather, while paradoxically, some Milan events were canceled due to excessive snowfall. This volatile weather pattern reflects the broader instability climate change brings to outdoor winter sports.

Milan's response offers a potential template: the Olympic Village employed modular design with low-carbon construction methods and prefabricated panels. Unlike Paris 2024's controversial approach (no AC, default vegetarian meals), Milan focused on sustainable infrastructure rather than behavioral nudges—possibly a more politically palatable path forward.

The Geopolitical Minefield

Beyond Team USA's awkward position, these Games feature athletes from virtually every global conflict zone. Four Israeli competitors may face protests. Ukrainian athletes compete alongside "unaffiliated" Russians. There's even a Venezuelan cross-country skier, representing a nation in economic collapse.

Each athlete becomes a walking diplomatic question: Will they speak out about their homeland's conflicts? How will crowds react? The Olympics' traditional "politics-free" facade becomes increasingly impossible to maintain when the world itself is so politically fractured.

Giorgia Meloni, Italy's first female prime minister, occupies her own complex position—a right-wing populist with close Trump ties who must also navigate European sensitivities. Her prominent role hosting these Games will test her ability to balance competing loyalties on the global stage.