| This is Bloomberg Opinion Today, a yawn-free dinner of Bloomberg Opinion's opinions. Sign up here.  Source: FX We're now ten days out from Thanksgiving, which means that it's time to prepare the TURKEY: Topics Universally Regarded as Kind, Easy and Yawn-free. Although the quest to find common ground at the holiday dinner table is not a new phenomenon — see this F.D. Flam column from last year — after such a fraught election season, the bird almost feels secondary to the loaded words that could fly between family members. Nobody wants to be passing the green beans to Aunt Eunice when she praises RFK Jr.'s war against seed oils and there's only so much enthusiasm one can muster around Cousin Josh's carnivore diet. In an effort to prevent blood-curdling screaming matches between your kin, I'll be providing you with some family-friendly conversation starters this week, starting with: "What's the safest place you've ever lived?" This question fulfills all three categories. It's not offending anyone, so long as you steer clear of the thin blue line. Everyone has lived somewhere, so that's easy. And you'll all be active stakeholders in the debate, so it *should* be yawn-free. But if it somehow morphs into a tryptophan-induced snooze-fest, you'll have a little fun fact from Justin Fox in your back pocket to spice things up: The safest place in America is actually Arlington County, Virginia. If you're met with gasps of disbelief, show them this chart: That's right: "Arlington now has the lowest combined mortality rate from land-transport accidents and homicides of any county for which the Centers for Disease Control's National Vital Statistics System provides enough data to make such an assessment," Justin writes. The county of 234,162 residents is a paradise for drivers, pedestrians and bikers alike. Since the 1980s, the mortality rate from traffic accidents has fallen by about 80%, thanks a highly effective transit glow-up that began in the 2000s. "In the neighborhoods along the Metro lines, getting to work, going shopping and going out to dinner no longer required getting into a car — a development encouraged by county authorities with high-frequency buses, protected bike lanes and the 16-mile Arlington Loop of bike and walking paths," Justin writes. Sounds like the perfect place to walk off a third serving of stuffing and mashed potatoes, doesn't it? Bonus TURKEY Reading, courtesy of Howard Chua-Eoan: South Burlington, Vermont also happens to be a pretty safe place in America. It's home to Ben & Jerry's, which, in my humble opinion, is the most wholesome corporate headquarters on the planet. I'm biased, though: Having spent many a summer in Vermont, I think I've taken the factory tour so many times that I could lead it with my eyes closed. For a very reasonable price of $6, you can get a complete history of the ice cream company, a taste of new flavors and access to the flavor graveyard, which honors their "dearly de-pinted." But not everything at Ben & Jerry's is as hunky-dory as their chocolate chunks may lead you to believe. Last week, its independent board sued parent company Unilever, alleging that it broke an agreement by muzzling the ice-cream brand's support for a cease-fire in Gaza. Beth Kowitt says it marks yet another line in the sand for corporate do-gooderism. When Unilever agreed to buy Ben & Jerry's in 2000, it was seen as an opportunity: The ice cream maker got the capital it needed to expand into the €1 billion brand it is today and Unilever got to be a poster child for humanitarian progress. "For two decades, it was a happy union," Beth writes, but not anymore. What began as a 2021 meltdown about Ben & Jerry's business in West Bank has since morphed into an existential crisis over the company's entire social mission. "To Unilever, Gaza is a business issue, with implications for financial performance; Ben & Jerry's views it as a moral one. Arguably, they are both right," she writes. Even before this latest legal twist, Unilever was planning to either sell or spin off its ice cream division, which also includes Magnum. The consumer giant follows in the footsteps of other big-name companies like Coca-Cola and PepsiCo, which both ditched their socially conscious juice brands — Odwalla and Naked Juice, respectively — after Covid forced a financial reassessment. "While companies were once desperate for their brands to stand for something meaningful," Beth says "executives now often view it as safer for them to stand for nothing." Doing good was sweet while it lasted, I guess. Over the weekend, I saw Conclave, the most-memed movie of the year so far. If you haven't seen it, you should. The dopamine hit you get from watching two hours of non-stop papal gossip is really next-level. Without giving too much away, I'd say it's like jury duty, but for red-robed cardinals who get sequestered on Vatican grounds until they choose the next Pope. They form cliques as if they're auditioning for Mean Girls. They huddle in stairwells to talk strategy à la Succession. They hurdle the worst kinds of insults at each other — "Judas!" — and rip vapes in the cafeteria. It's fully deserving of the 92% critics score it got on Rotten Tomatoes. But as thrilling as the movie was, I have to say the real world of organized religion is giving Conclave a run for its money: Justin Welby — who left his post overseeing 85 million Anglicans last week — is the first-ever senior bishop of the Church of England to quit. To put that into context, Martin Ivens says "Archbishops of Canterbury are more likely to be executed by the state — the fate of Thomas Cranmer and William Laud in the Reformation era — than to resign over a scandal." Welby's downfall arrived in the form of a new report, which detailed how one of his acquaintances — John Smyth, a barrister licensed to preach by the Church — beat and sexually abused over 100 teenage boys and young men for decades. For some victims, the psychological damage was too much to bear: Several attempted suicide; another died in suspect circumstances. Independent investigators found that Welby had shown "a distinct lack of curiosity" around the allegations. It wasn't until Prime Minister Keir Starmer spoke on the issue that Welby stepped down, saying he was taking "personal and institutional responsibility." Yikes. Well, this is awkward: Elon Musk is helping short-circuit the electric vehicle revolution he started. If Republicans end up ditching the $7,500 federal tax credit on EVs, Liam Denning says GM, Ford and other legacy automakers will need to pivot back to profitable gas guzzlers and hybrids. As a result, David Fickling says "the US car industry that emerges will be smaller, less influential — and, eventually, less profitable and financially sustainable." Even weirder, Liam says "we could end up with a situation where the consumer tax credit is cut but Republican members of Congress save the manufacturing credits for fear of losing jobs in their districts — a position that could be summed up as: 'What do we want? No EVs! Where should we build them? Here!'" It only adds to the Trump-fueled cloud of uncertainty that Thomas Black says is standing in the way of a manufacturing rebound. "Companies will think twice about spending heavily on capital goods now," he warns. Crypto's comeback need not spell disaster. — Bloomberg's editorial board Husbands live longer than single men, but what about wives? — Sarah Green Carmichael Pay close attention to your credit card balance under Trump 2.0. — Erin Lowry Bird flu is about to crash flu season. It could get ugly. — Lisa Jarvis If Trump dismantles the education department, he'll regret it. — Matthew Yglesias The inventor of the World Wide Web wants everyone to control their data. — Parmy Olson A study of social media's conservative male tilt. Beyoncé is coming to your Christmas party. Biden wandered into the Amazon and went viral. Shen Yun is under the regulator's microscope. NYC's transit agency approved a congestion toll. The doppelganger craze takes over Chicago. California king beds are small now. (h/t Mike Nizza) The city of salsas, dressings and dips. It's a circus at the old Bank of New York. Don't try to fly with gravy in your carry-on. Notes: Please send Alaskan kings and feedback to Jessica Karl at jkarl9@bloomberg.net. Sign up here and follow us on Threads, TikTok, Twitter, Instagram and Facebook. | 
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