Killed With Kindness: It's Anything but Helpful to Slam RFK Jr. for Wanting to Find a Cure for Autism
Commentary
The devouring mother. If you're familiar with this Jungian archetype, it's almost certainly via Jordan Peterson, who has done the most to popularize and apply it to today's social and political scene.
In basic terms, the devouring mother is what you get when the maternal instinct to nurture goes haywire. Nurturance is a balancing act: Yes, the mother must offer warmth and protection and love, but she must also give the child space to experience the world for itself and, most of all, to take risks. Risk entails the potential for harm up to and including death, and yet without risk, genuine development simply isn't possible. But instead of taking this balanced approach, the devouring mother coddles the child—and then the teenager and the adult—to death, wrapping them so tightly they can't move and, as a result, they never get to fulfill their inborn potential.
It's a kind of malignant but well-meaning concern, a hideously overgrown safetyism, that Peterson has linked to the rise of so-called 'woke' politics and politically correct codes, but we can see it at work elsewhere too. The medical industry and its ever-growing power over society, for example.
In Ken Kesey's 1962 novel 'One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest,' the novelist embodies the devouring mother in Nurse Ratched, chief nurse at the Salem State Mental Hospital. Ratched destroys the men in her care—lobotomizes them, quite literally, with love. Everything that's done is done for the inmates' 'benefit,' even if it deprives them of what remains of their sanity and ultimately their lives. 'We're living in a matriarchy, man,' says one of the inmates, grimly. Tellingly, perhaps, in the summer of 2020 Nurse Ratched was given a television series of her own in an attempt to rehabilitate her for a new generation—just as the pandemic was swallowing the lives of an entire generation of children.
We also see this devouring attitude, or something of it, in the autism debate, where a misplaced sense of kindness threatens to stifle research that could reduce or even cure the suffering of millions of children.
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A few weeks ago, Robert F. Kennedy Jr. announced the 'most comprehensive' investigation ever into the condition, which will identify environmental factors driving the massive increase in cases. Speaking at a press conference at the White House, Kennedy said autism 'destroys families,' describing in moving terms the extraordinary hardships faced by sufferers and their families, especially in serious cases where the child is non-verbal and will be unable to live an independent life ever.
In the weeks since the announcement, Kennedy has spoken at length about the need for such an investigation and outlined his aims. He told radio host John Catsimatidis that autism 'dwarfs the COVID epidemic' and should be taken more seriously than COVID because it destroys the potential of the young specifically.
'This is an epidemic. It dwarfs the COVID epidemic and the impacts on our country because COVID killed old people. Autism affects children and affects them at the beginning of their lives, the beginning of their productivity,' he said.
Kennedy has also been quite clear about the economic costs of this autism epidemic. He told Catsimatidis that the 'pure economic cost' of autism will be $1 trillion a year by 2035.
Kennedy's announcement has been welcomed as long overdue, but in some quarters the response has been furious.
Some have said that Kennedy's comments were 'disrespectful' and that his aim of identifying environmental causes of the condition is 'unrealistic and misleading.'
Many seem to believe that, by saying he wants to cure autism, Kennedy really means autistic people have no value as autistic people at all. They must be normal or nothing.
Let's be clear: Autism is a hugely emotive issue. Any issue involving the welfare and the suffering of children is bound to be. Autistic people and their families can certainly be forgiven a bit of emotion, since they're the principal sufferers. And it is true that autistic and disabled people have been marginalized, deprived, and dehumanized in the past. Their rights and moral recognition have been hard won and must be guarded forcefully to ensure they're not infringed or eliminated.
But emotion, as we know, often clouds judgment. You can love and cherish a disabled child and still wish for the disability they suffer not to be visited on anyone else's child. Man does not have to hand on misery to man, to paraphrase the poet Philip Larkin. And the issue is made rather more straightforward if, as Kennedy is suggesting, the difference may be eliminating environmental toxins, rather than engaging in practices like embryo selection or IVF, which would draw inevitable moral concerns about 'eugenics' in particular.
Kennedy is right to draw attention to the mind-boggling scale of the problem. On the day of the conference at the White House, the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention
There's every reason to believe that, even if autism has a genetic component, which I think it does, many cases are also driven by environmental influences. Kennedy has already named five he believes must be considered in the course of his new investigation: mold, food additives, pesticides, vaccines, and ultrasound. In each case, there is credible scientific evidence, including epidemiological studies and case studies, that supports Kennedy's claim.
Consider mold and fungus. It's been established that children diagnosed with autism
Kennedy's five toxins are unlikely to exhaust the environmental causes of autism—gluten is another candidate, for example; it's
Clearly, this is a complex problem, and it may be that only some, not all, cases of autism have an environmental cause or causes at their root. But if there are environmental causes of autism, there's no reason to believe we can't identify them and do something about them, alleviating the suffering of many, many people. To not even try, out of some belief that doing so would be a disservice or disrespect to those with autism, would be to kill the possibility of a better world with misplaced kindness. What a risk to take.
Views expressed in this article are opinions of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of The Epoch Times.
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Los Angeles Times
7 hours ago
- Los Angeles Times
After my marriage fell apart, darkness got to me. Then I was catfished
'You don't revere me anymore.' The words rolled off my tongue at my husband, who had been acting strangely for a few days. 'Revere?' he said with such distaste that it stunned me. Then I did what any wife married for 23 years might do: I read his emails. I wanted the truth. 'All she does is spend money!' screamed up at me from the computer screen. I wasn't in love with my husband anymore. I did still love him and had planned to sacrifice my happiness to make sure he was taken care of until the end. Then he betrayed me and let me off the hook. He didn't cheat. He talked behind my back in ways that I felt dishonored me. Imagine reading your husband's emails (I'm not perfect) and finding long conversations between him and his daughter about you. This from the man you've been with for 25 years! I suppose I knew this day would come. Money was always the bane of our relationship. My husband would not have initiated divorce because it would have cost him too much. Did I spend? Yes, I suppose, but only to improve our home in Culver City, give us a luscious yard and a new paved driveway. And that's not to mention all the trips we took to fascinating places. I had done a lot for him. Surprised him with a bar mitzvah in Jerusalem, brought his 'mathematical art' to life through art shows and social media and planned our busy social schedule. I moved to the Pico-Robertson area to be close to my niece and her three kids. Darkness consumed me, but my face was masked with perpetual smiles. How do you begin again at 71? Friends tried to guide me to dating sites, but I wasn't ready. I took refuge in my apartment with my dog, Murray, who kept me alive through the COVID-19 pandemic, depression and divorce. My life consisted of walking the dog, writing children's books and binge-watching Netflix nightly. Once the divorce was over, loneliness won out. I moved to a new city an hour outside of L.A. Male attention came from a 31-year-old gardener who brought me flowers every Tuesday. 'I'm old enough to be your grandmother,' I said. I was feeling the need for male energy, but not with this young man. So I turned to online dating. I scrolled down the list of all my likes on a dating site. One man caught my eye. He was Jewish, intelligent and had a dog named Erik. I sent him a like back. 'Can you give me your number so we can text?' he asked. What could it hurt? The next two weeks were a whirlwind. We were in a textationship. I felt so high I stopped eating. I lost six pounds in three days. Jay enchanted me with all the romantic things that he was going to do for me. He sent me love songs. I wasn't just beautiful; I was extremely beautiful and I shouldn't worry about being overweight, he told me. He wanted a soulmate and convinced me that we were meant to be. Blown away by our connection, we both realized bashert (or fate) had won out. I was the happiest I had been in many years. Finally something was going to come easy for me. But I wasn't naive. Red flags started to pop up. Jay and I had barely spoken on the phone when he told me that he had to be in Washington, D.C. for three weeks to work on a military base. He wouldn't be able to video chat, and if he did, he could get fired. On a Friday morning, two weeks into our relationship, I texted, 'I'm sorry, but I can't invest anymore into this relationship until I see you.' He asked if I could Skype. (Oh, remember Skype?) Red flag. Why not FaceTime? I waited all day Saturday for him to call. Nothing. On Sunday morning, I blocked him on my phone. Murray and I headed to the ocean. On Monday, unable to text me, he emailed. Hope reared its head again. 'How can you give up all we shared together?' he asked. 'I so want you to be true, Jay, but I still need to see your face,' I replied. At 7 a.m. Monday, he called. In bed with no makeup on, we met on Google Meet. I loved the face on his profile, but I didn't think this face was the same one I saw on-screen. I asked him why he said he was a New York native on his profile when I knew he grew up in Sweden. He shrugged it off as a small embellishment. I fake smiled and asked him to say something to me in Swedish. He mumbled something that meant 'bright day.' My intuition was on fire. The guy had to be a liar. Was he grooming me to ask for money? Was he trying to feel important? Did he want to inflict harm? Later that day, he sent me an email. 'I told you I couldn't talk on video and that I'd be home soon enough, and we could be together. Now, they've found out that I made a video call and I could get fired. I'm not sure this was worth it. I'm angry you didn't believe me.' (He allegedly did secret work as an engineer for the Department of Defense.) I texted back: 'Goodbye, Jay.' 'Wow, goodbye,' he answered. I could've gone back into depression, but I was already out. I felt empowered. Catfished or not, I have to thank Jay — or whatever his name really is. He put the pep back in my step even if he didn't mean a word of it. Through the ping-pong of our conversations, my darkness ceased to be. I realized that I was capable of feeling again. Whatever it was that we meant to each other, Mr. Catfish managed to give me the very thing I was missing: Hope. The author is an actor, writer and producer living in Southern California with her dog Murray. L.A. Affairs chronicles the search for romantic love in all its glorious expressions in the L.A. area, and we want to hear your true story. We pay $400 for a published essay. Email LAAffairs@ You can find submission guidelines here. You can find past columns here.
San Francisco Chronicle
8 hours ago
- San Francisco Chronicle
San Francisco is euthanizing more stray dogs. Here's why
When a divorce made life overwhelming late last year, a woman surrendered her dog to San Francisco Animal Care and Control. The 3-year-old pit bull and mastiff mix was gentle, easygoing and friendly, the owner told the shelter, and had no medical issues. But after a short time in the facility, the dog became so anxious that he had to be put down, shelter records show. These shelter records are full of heartbreak — stories of people abandoning their dogs because they couldn't afford veterinary care or housing. Last year, such cases propelled Animal Care and Control, the city's public shelter, to the highest rate of euthanasia since 2013, and it's on track to worsen this year. The problem is playing out across California. When veterinarian clinics closed during the COVID-19 outbreak, spay and neuter surgeries stopped, creating generations of surplus puppies. Huge numbers of people adopted pandemic pets, but now demand for dogs, especially large ones, has plunged. In San Francisco, an increasingly strained relationship between the city's two main animal shelters — one public, one private — is making matters even more difficult. The city-run shelter, San Francisco Animal Care and Control in the Mission District, is obligated to care for all stray, lost and surrendered animals within city limits. In the past, it sent most of the dogs and cats it couldn't adopt out to the private shelter down the street: the San Francisco SPCA, a 157-year-old nonprofit known for filling the windows of Macy's in Union Square with puppies and kittens during the holidays. As a private organization, the SPCA does not accept animals from the public and can choose which dogs or cats it brings into its shelter. Since the 1990s, it has promised to take in any 'adoptable' dog or cat that San Francisco's public shelter can't place as a way to reduce the city's euthanasia rates. The SPCA continues to take in the majority of the public shelter's extra cats — especially kittens, which are easier to adopt. But over the past decade it has increasingly rescued more dogs from Central Valley shelters, where it says the need is greater, and fewer from San Francisco. Critics say the consequences for San Francisco are significant, leading to fewer dogs getting out of the city's shelter alive. The SPCA, though, says its focus is on increasing the amount of low-cost veterinary services in the city to keep animals out of the shelter. The differing perspectives on how to best serve these animals, and which ones to rescue, provide a glimpse into the complex challenges shelters face as they try to save animals during uncertain economic times. 'Historically, the SPCA has taken as many as 600 dogs from us, which helped us save more dogs,' Virginia Donohue, the executive director of Animal Care and Control, said in an email. 'Unfortunately, for the last few years it has been fewer than 200 dogs, so we have looked further afield to find homes. As a city, we need more adoptions and less breeding to make sure that all of our dogs have families to love them.' Jennifer Scarlett, a veterinarian and the CEO of the San Francisco SPCA, which is independent from other humane societies, agrees that the city needs more adoptions — and more San Franciscans willing to adopt. 'At its core, we want to save as many animals in shelters as possible, with the priority being we want to work with Animal Care and Control,' Scarlett said. However, she added in an email, 'We are more than a shelter, and our strategic focus lies on building a system of care in San Francisco.' The SPCA said it provided $3.5 million in free and low-cost veterinary care in the city during the past fiscal year, including for vaccines at mobile clinics, emergency surgery at its animal hospital and preventative care at its Excelsior district clinic, an increase of more than $1 million from the previous year. The SPCA has a larger budget and staff than the public shelter, and it provides a different range of activities, including running its veterinary hospital. It brought in $46 million in the fiscal year ending in June 2024. It cares for only dogs and cats. The taxpayer-funded Animal Care and Control, by contrast, takes in wildlife and domesticated birds, reptiles and rabbits in addition to dogs and cats and has an annual budget of $11 million. It also manages a team of animal control officers who respond to thousands of calls on biting dogs, aggressive coyotes and, recently, baby raccoons nesting in Chase Center. The SPCA accepted 158 of the more than 2,800 dogs that came through the public shelter in 2024, a drop from more than 600 dogs in 2013, records obtained by the Chronicle show. Scarlett said one reason for the decrease is that many San Francisco dogs have medical or behavior issues or are larger breeds — though the SPCA also brings in large dogs from Central Valley shelters. After the Chronicle inquired about the decrease, a spokesperson for the SPCA said it had committed to taking at least five dogs per week in late April, higher than recent years. As of June 13, it had not hit that number regularly, but in some weeks took more than five, according to records. Central Valley collaboration The SPCA started working closely with Central Valley shelters in 2012, when it partnered with Stockton Animal Services, said Regina Moore, a spokesperson for the nonprofit. At the time, the Stockton shelter's live release rate was down to 32%, according to the SPCA. The organization said it helped boost the rate to 82% over five years by providing medical support, such as spay and neuter surgeries, and then moved on to work with other Central Valley shelters, including by bringing their animals to its adoption center. 'One thing that is unique about the S.F. SPCA is they do have the resources to help out in other areas,' said Allison Cardona, California state director for the UC Davis Koret Shelter Medicine Program. 'There is a critical need for veterinary spay/neuter across the state.' Drawing from a large network of shelters allows the SPCA to match 'more quickly adoptable' animals from rural and suburban areas with potential adopters in San Francisco, Moore said. San Francisco's public shelter has typically had a higher live release rate than Central Valley shelters, and the figure shot up during the pandemic, when pets were in demand. From the 2017 to 2023 fiscal years, the city's live release rate stayed above 90%, achieving what private shelters call 'no kill' status. However, the rate dropped from 91% to 88% in the fiscal year ending in June 2024, the lowest rate since 2013. That year, it euthanized 257 dogs, and the rate will probably drop to 87% this year, the shelter said. Angie Yen, a former SPCA employee of 12 years, said the nonprofit's drop in dog acceptances from the public shelter contributed to the rise in euthanasia rates locally. SPCA 'reduced their quota to something that works for them but just puts more responsibility on (San Francisco Animal Care and Control) to try to save those lives,' said Yen, who resigned in 2023 in part over what she described as disillusionment with the organization. Yen is now a registered veterinary technician, similar to a nurse, at the public shelter, and said she was speaking for herself. Yen and Chelsea Capaccio were among six former SPCA employees who told the Chronicle they think the nonprofit is putting too large a share of its resources into the Central Valley. 'They're so focused on this Central Valley expansion that they've forgotten that they're the San Francisco SPCA,' said Capaccio, who resigned as co-director of the organization's animal hospital in October over what she said was a personnel matter, after working there for three years. She acknowledged the challenges in the Central Valley, but said the organization should first meet the need of low-income San Franciscans to access veterinary care. Scarlett disagreed that SPCA has forgotten its roots and said her organization is focused on reducing the number of homeless pets, including by providing spay and neuter surgeries at a subsidized rate for San Francisco's public shelter, at a value of $500,000 per year — which Donohue said is an essential service. This year, it is providing an extra $50,000 toward those surgeries at Donohue's request, after the city cut the public shelter's budget. In San Francisco, 'We've seen a slip in the live release rate,' Scarlett said. 'What's happening in the Central Valley is even harder. We're finding buckets of puppies and kittens in orchards.' Trouble moving puppies On a tour of the San Francisco public shelter in March, Donohue noticed that a 5-month-old dog named Starburst had been there for six weeks. The pit bull and husky mix had endearing lopsided terrier ears and mismatched eyes — one blue, one brown. Volunteers brightened her day with walks, but she had resorted to throwing herself balls each morning. 'We're having trouble moving puppies out of the shelter,' Donohue said. The number of puppies was up 40% last year compared with before the pandemic, Donohue said. This year, 18% more dogs came into the shelter from January to May than during the same time period in 2024. Donohue said the public shelter typically does not euthanize 'adoptable' dogs like Starburst, meaning those without major behavioral or medical problems — that is, unless it and its partner shelters are completely full. Also, behavioral issues can get worse over time for animals in the shelter and put them on the euthanasia list. Another factor in rising euthanasia rates is that, in recent years, the shelter has received 60% more custody cases than it did before the pandemic, Donahue said. The cases mostly involve dogs that come to the shelter because their owners are incarcerated or in the hospital. The shelter is required to hold them for two weeks, rather than four days for strays, to give owners time to reclaim them, which fills up valuable kennel spots. 'The pipeline gets clogged, which reduces the number of options you have for getting out,' Donohue said. To find homes for its dogs, and some of its cats, the public shelter increasingly sends them to rescue organizations far afield. Last year, it transferred 89 dogs out of California and 141 out of the Bay Area, compared with 11 out of state and 39 out of the Bay Area in 2019, according to public records. Donohue said that many large dogs, such as huskies, go to rescue facilities in Lake Tahoe where they can roam more freely. And many stay in town, going to places such as Muttville Senior Dog Rescue. Animal shelters across California are facing overcrowding. Last year saw a 7% rise in stray dogs entering shelters in the state, while that number declined nationally, according to the nonprofit Shelter Animals Count. One of the reasons is probably the scarcity and high cost of veterinary care in the state, said Cardona of the UC Davis Koret Shelter Medicine Program, who manages a $50 million state grant program aimed at preventing euthanasia of treatable animals. The ultimate goal, Cardona said, is to keep animals within their own communities, with support from pet-inclusive housing policies or pet food pantries, such as those hosted by the organization Full Belly Bus. The nonprofit Vets in Vans provides low-cost and free veterinary care in front of Animal Care and Control. With a $150,000 state grant, it recently diverted close to 200 people from surrendering their animals there, said founder Tracy Huang. Donohue said people can help by donating to the nonprofit Friends of Animal Care and Control and by adopting local dogs from shelters instead of purchasing them online, where they often come from puppy mills in the Midwest. Starburst, at least, ended up being one of the lucky ones. Even after four months in the shelter, she stayed friendly and playful. In April, she left with a new family — and no longer has to throw balls to herself.
Tom's Guide
a day ago
- Tom's Guide
I'm a barista who swapped an $899 espresso machine for a $149 budget one — here's why
I'm an ex-barista, so I've spent enough time making coffee for a lifetime. I cut my teeth at an independent artisanal cafe (so independent and artisanal that it was one of the many small business Covid casualties) and then suffered through some long, hard years at Starbucks (during lockdown, cry) as punishment. You think that would stop me. But I cannot be stopped. I am as unstoppable as the endless march of time. Now as a journalist, it's my mission to find the best espresso machines so I can continue drinking way too much coffee. The $149 De'Longhi Stilosa has everything I hate in an espresso machine: a flimsy plastic tamper, a flimsy plastic construction, and a flimsy plastic drip tray. I really thought I'd hate this machine. No, tell a lie, I wanted to hate it, because it was so ugly. However, when I ditched my $900 De'Longhi La Specialista Opera for the $149 De'Longhi Stilosa, I was absolutely shocked. I tested the U.K. version of the De'Longhi Stilosa. A reader pointed out recently that the U.S. model of the Stilosa comes with dual-walled portafilters. In this case, I'd recommend getting third-party single-walled portafilters to achieve the same results as me. This is the machine I use every day. I love it with all my heart, but something just doesn't feel right anymore. Maybe because it's taking up a quarter of my kitchen, and that's grown into resentment? Either way, I don't know what's next for me and my beloved La Specialista Opera. It might be the most tear-jerking goodbye of 2025. This is the Opera's contender: smaller, cheaper, and a hell of a lot uglier. I really had my doubts about the Stilosa. For starters, it feels flimsy AF and looks like someone vomited up a pile of plastic. But oh boy, can it pull a delicious espresso shot. Color me surprised. Repeat after me: I will not use pre-ground coffee... I will not use pre-ground coffee... I will not use pre-ground coffee. Now, I've said it before and I'll say it again. You have to work for good espresso on the De'Longhi Stilosa. If you just take it out of the box and get to work, you'll think I've lost my marbles. Espresso is an art as much as it's a science. And perfect espresso needs two things: a good grinder, and an even better barista. I used both the Eureka Mignon Specialita ($649) and the Comandante C40 MK4 (from ~$282) with the De'Longhi Stilosa. If budget's a concern, you might be able to grab the Baratza Encore ESP or the 1ZPresso J-Ultra — both $199 — instead. However, a good grinder is a non-negotiable. The only reason why the Stilosa managed to match the La Specialista Opera is because of the brilliant grinders I used. If you buy pre-ground beans or have a blade grinder, you will never be able to achieve these results. Repeat after me: I will not use pre-ground coffee... I will not use pre-ground coffee... I will not use pre-ground coffee. Okay, great! This is a picture of the best espresso shot I pulled on the Stilosa, using artisanal, locally-roasted specialty beans and the Comandante C40 MK4 grinder. As I'm sure you're aware by now, achieving an espresso shot like this is only possible because of a premium grinder and specialty beans. With this extra effort, there's no need to spend $$$ on an espresso machine. You'll need to look for the following specs: While the De'Longhi Stilosa doesn't have a PID (which is a temperature controller built-in to the machine to prevent burning and weak espresso), it is literally $149. At this price point, you can't really ask for much more. It's worth noting that other home baristas have successfully modded the Stilosa with PID controllers, so not all is lost. As the De'Longhi Stilosa I tested has both 9-bar pressure and single-walled portafilters, I was able to pull technically perfect espresso. If you follow my advice, there's no reason why you wouldn't be able to achieve this too. In terms of espresso brewing? I couldn't believe my luck. The Stilosa is $759 cheaper than my La Specialista Opera, but pulls very similar shots. That's a monumental saving. I won't lie to you, when I first picked up the De'Longhi Stilosa, I physically grimaced. I thought there's no way this flimsy plastic hunk of junk can ever be good. But oh boy, did it prove me wrong. I already chatted about all the reasons why the De'Longhi Stilosa proved me wrong in a different article, but I'll go through them again briefly here. Good espresso machines need some weight to them. Even compact machines have boilers crammed inside their tiny size, so when I picked up the Stilosa, I was immediately suspicious. I doubted its ability to heat water, let alone pull espresso. But I was wrong. The Stilosa crams an impressive 9-bar pressure system and a steel boiler inside its 8-inch size. The sacrifices come in its all-plastic (ugly) construction, flimsy group handle, and pathetic tamper. These are all fixable problems though. The inherent espresso-making ability of the machine? Off-the-charts good. I'll be the first person to admit that a lot of budget espresso machines are very questionable. But not the De'Longhi Stilosa. With the extra work I discussed earlier, I was able to make $500-machine worthy espresso on the $149 Stilosa. However, without the effort, the espresso will most definitely taste like it was made on a cheap machine. So, if the cheap espresso machine has the following things: 9-bar pressure, single-walled portafilter baskets, a shower screen with even water distribution, and (maybe) a PID controller, then there's nothing stopping it performing like a premium model. With the right tools, coffee, and barista, of course. Although I was really impressed by the Stilosa for the price, I'm not really ready to give up my La Specialista Opera yet. (I actually kind of regret getting the Opera and really want a Breville Bambino Plus, but that's another story.) Steaming milk on the Stilosa requires a little more effort than other machines, because the steam wand can be a little overexcited. Take a look at the latte I made with the Stilosa. This is after 3 1/2 years as a barista, bear in mind. My latte art could still do with some work (I'm yet to master the tulip), but I think a more inexperienced barista might need a little more time to get adjusted to the Stilosa's overexcited steam wand. On top of that, if you're a barista who just wants coffee and doesn't want to spend lots of time and mental effort making that coffee? Then I think the Stilosa might not be for you. I'd recommend something like the De'Longhi Rivelia in that case, but it'll cost you — $1,499. I knew this already, but swapping my La Specialista Opera for the Stilosa reaffirmed my belief that good coffee needs one thing: a good barista who knows what they're doing. Yes, you can spend $$$ (more like $$$$$$...) on a Bianca Lelit ($2,999) or a La Marzocco Linea Mini ($6,300), but if you don't have the knowledge? Your coffee won't taste great. I recommend spending time learning about coffee — what types of beans you like, why you need a great grinder, how to set up a shot — before spending a month's wages on a machine. Instead, I'd recommend getting the Stilosa and learning on a cheap machine. Then, once you've got the skill? By all means, dig into a pricier machine — or just keep your money and continue slaying on the Stilosa.
