Reflections on the immigration of Tashfeen Malik, and the search for balance in a war-torn world… By the morning of September 23, John Anderson (not his real name) had had a very rough 24 hours. In his line of work, that might not have been unusual, but it was rather new for him. He’d been in this job for a year and a half, and had just closed a pretty substantial deal the day before. The discussions began on the night of the 21st, and went on well into the night, but by morning, an impressive operation was as good...