Cornell University workers begin the work of cleaning anti-Zionist graffiti off a statue of the school’s co-founder on January 21, 2025. Photo: Screenshot

Imagine reading the following sentence in America today: I’m “not interested in working for a Jew.”

Replace “Jew” with almost any other protected identity and there would be little debate. Employers would condemn it. Universities would denounce it. Politicians across the ideological spectrum would unite in opposition. The public would recognize it immediately for what it is: blatant discrimination.

Yet when a Cornell University student reportedly rejected a job interview because the employer was Jewish, something remarkable happened.

He didn’t simply receive attention. He became a cause.

Far-right internet personality Miles Routledge — better known online as “Lord Miles,” and someone who has repeatedly trafficked in extremist rhetoric and admiration for Hitler — helped raise nearly $20,000 in support of the student, Austin Franco.

The message was unmistakable: open discrimination against Jews was not merely excused. It was rewarded.

That should alarm every American.

For years, I have argued that antisemitism is unlike most other forms of hatred. It does not simply survive in society — it adapts to society. It disguises itself as politics, activism, nationalism, anti-capitalism, anti-globalism, anti-elitism, anti-Zionism, or simply “speaking uncomfortable truths.” It constantly reinvents itself to remain socially acceptable.

Today it has evolved once again — and it has become profitable.

Hatred of Jews increasingly generates clicks, followers, donations, speaking invitations, podcast appearances, and online celebrity. Social media has created an economy in which outrage is monetized, and antisemitism has become one of its most reliable currencies.

That should concern everyone, regardless of political affiliation.

The supporters of this campaign are not defending free speech.

Free speech protects someone’s legal right to express offensive opinions without government punishment. It does not require society to celebrate prejudice. Nor does it obligate private citizens to finance discrimination.

Instead, many chose to transform an openly discriminatory act into an act of supposed courage.

If someone publicly discriminates against Jews today, there is now a growing ecosystem prepared to reward that behavior with money, followers, publicity, and ideological validation.

This is not merely prejudice.

It is the industrialization of prejudice.

Imagine if a student had declined employment because the owner was Black. Or Muslim. Or Hispanic. Or gay.

There would be overwhelming condemnation, and rightly so.

No crowdfunding campaign would portray that individual as a martyr.

Yet when the target is Jewish, many suddenly discover nuance. Some call it “context.” Others call it “lived experience.” Some even portray the discriminator as the victim.

Since October 7, we have witnessed this inversion repeatedly.

The largest massacre of Jews since the Holocaust was followed not simply by sympathy for Hamas in some quarters, but by an explosion of hostility toward Jews worldwide.

Jewish students have been harassed. Synagogues have been attacked. Jewish businesses have been boycotted. Jewish employees have faced intimidation. Zionists have been excluded. Israelis have been collectively blamed for the actions of their government in ways no other nationality is expected to endure.

The Franco-Routledge episode is simply another milestone along that trajectory. The names themselves matter far less than what they represent: a growing willingness not merely to tolerate anti-Jewish prejudice, but to elevate, celebrate, and even finance it.

This is why I often say that antisemitism is never only about Jews. It is a test for society.

When discrimination against Jews becomes acceptable, the problem is no longer confined to the Jewish community. It reveals that the societal fabric that we share is weakening.

History has taught us this lesson repeatedly. The question is whether we are willing to learn it before history teaches it again.

This moment demands more than condemning one student. It demands asking why so many people rushed to applaud him.

Because when hatred becomes heroic, prejudice becomes socially investable, and a just society begins to break down.

The real question is no longer whether antisemitism exists. We know it does.

The question is what it says about us that so many people are now willing to celebrate it.

Yuval David is an Emmy Award–winning journalist, filmmaker, and actor. An internationally recognized advocate for Jewish and LGBT rights, he is a strategic advisor to diplomatic missions and NGOs, and a contributor to global news outlets in broadcast and print news. He focuses on combating antisemitism, extremism, and promoting democratic values and human dignity. Learn more at YuvalDavid.com, instagram.com/Yuval_David_, x.com/yuvaldavid, youtube.com/yuvaldavid, and across social media.