My father returned from WW2 with pieces of shrapnel slowly working their way out of his body and a deep and abiding hatred of the French. I don’t know about you and your father, but mine never wanted to discuss the details. I never knew his reasons, but he passed his hatred of the French on to me like an unspoken family legacy.

My brief time in Paris only reinforced my deeply ingrained bias. Every Frenchman seemed determined I should suffer because I wasn’t French. While she was enjoying the Tour de France, my wife became so aggravated at my remarks, she pointed out how much I enjoy French food.  My hatred was so strong that I gave up several of my favorite pastries rather than admit I might be wrong. Stubbornness is a powerful thing.

Several years ago, my company decided I was the only systems engineer available for a joint venture with a French company. First impressions are a bitch, and my first impression of my counterpart was that he had a full-blown Napoleon complex—controlling, arrogant, always insisting that we do things his way.

But the more I worked with him, the more I realized something unsettling: his way was better. His approach to laying out requirements was clearer, more structured, and more efficient than my company’s procedures. It was totally different from our standard, but I saw the brilliance in it.

My next project wasn’t with the French company, but I fought hard to introduce some of their methods into our own processes. And you know what? It worked. Turns out, you can teach an old dog new tricks.

Okay, fine. I’ll admit it—I love French food. And when it comes to systems engineering, the French are not just competent; they’re damn good at it. But still, how could I let go of a lifelong, comfortable hatred? It felt almost… disloyal to my father.

And then came the politics of today. This week, Macron showed more backbone than our entire Republican Congress combined. He stood face-to-face with Trump and called him out, telling him the truth: Putin started this war. Say what you want, but when the U.S. is voting alongside Russia and North Korea to deny Russian aggression, you have to ask yourself—what kind of company are we keeping?

Now, look at the current U.S. administration: a felon at the helm, a cabinet so mind-bogglingly incompetent that you have to wonder what congressman in their right mind would vote to confirm them (I’m fully expecting the FDA to endorse leeches any day now), and a chainsaw-wielding lunatic who can’t do basic math. Ever wonder what all those rehires are costing us—or why they were fired in the first place? The bar for leadership has never been lower, and yet Trump and his minions still manage to crawl under it.

And then today—today—as Republicans prepare to slash billions from social support programs, handing out yet another tax break to their beloved millionaires, the French go and vote in favor of a wealth tax on the ultra-rich.

Darn those French! I almost feel like I’m betraying my father’s memory. Almost. But I also feel like my own government has stabbed me—and its former allies—in the back.

I could go on about the rumors linking Trump to Russia (Google Trump and Yuri Shvets) or how any tax cuts you might receive will be wiped out by tariffs—unless, of course, you’re already a millionaire. But today, I have something more pressing to say:

To the entire nation of France, I owe you an apology.

Your country has demonstrated extraordinary competence in cooking, systems engineering, and, most importantly, governing with a level of integrity that puts the current United States leadership to shame. I’m still not buying a Renault, but tonight, I just might ask my wife for a nice, warm bowl of bouillabaisse.

PS: In true French fashion, I will be participating in the economic boycott on Feb 28

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