The Cultural Power of Late-Night Stores | Why Facebook Should Collect More Data

A fading Berlin symbol is sparking concerns around racism, gentrification and the city's soul.

For years, Dominic Abels counted on Sunday business for a quarter of the weekly revenue his store earned in the now-posh Berlin neighborhood of Prenzlauer Berg. But in the past few months, the gaunt-faced Abels has been fined three times for keeping his shop open on Sundays in defiance of the law. The fine increased each time — from 400 euros ($440) the first time to 800 euros ($880) most recently.

Since a May ruling by the Administrative Court of Berlin, city authorities have fastidiously targeted family-run convenience stores such as Abels’ if they’re open on Sundays. The crackdown is part of a broader debate that’s erupting over the future of these stores — known as Spätis — that have over the decades emerged as cultural symbols of Berlin. For thousands of Berliners, it’s also a fight over the soul of their city.

This could be a great way to break us all out of our political bubbles.

The concern with Facebook since 2016 has been filter bubbles, and the notion that people can interact on the social network in ways that perpetuate lies and conspiracies. But there is a simple solution: Facebook should collect more data about our political leanings to help us break out of filter bubbles.

Tuba player Mitzy Dávalos is getting city dwellers to dance to a new — yet old — kind of music.

On Sept. 16, Mexican Independence Day, Mitzy Dávalos and the seven other members of La Mixanteña de Santa Cecilia squeezed into the hippest live music venue in the Roma Norte neighborhood of Mexico City. Lined up in front of the bar, they cleared an impromptu dance floor and filled the space with the melodic trumpets and energetic percussion that dominate the music of a small region in the state of Guerrero, where the coast and mountains meet.

A couple of months later, the band members were on the back of a truck, winding their way through the streets of Mexico City as part of a Day of the Dead parade. For Dávalos, 33, it’s all part of sharing an underappreciated sound with a wider audience — with every note fueling a broader reinvention of Mexican folk music.