This is an edition of The Atlantic Daily, a newsletter that guides you through the biggest stories of the day, helps you discover new ideas, and recommends the best in culture. Sign up for it here.To national audiences, the news that a North Carolina state senator had apparently lost a Republican primary race by two—yes, two—votes seemed like one of those quirky election stories that come around every year, such as when the mayor of Boca Raton, Florida, recently won by five votes.But in North Carolina, where I live, it was an earthquake. State Senate President Pro Tempore Phil Berger has been the most powerful person in the state for years, through both Republican and Democratic governors. Like former House Speaker Nancy Pelosi, he is the kind of politician whom opponents detest yet begrudgingly recognize for their effectiveness. But Berger appears to have been ousted by Sam Page, the sheriff of Rockingham County, which makes up most of the contested district. With provisional ballots counted, Page’s lead grew to 23 votes out of some 26,000 cast. An initial machine recount completed this week didn’t change the tally, but Berger asked today for a partial hand recount.Page overcame a series of disadvantages: Berger and his allies spent about $10 million dollars; Page raised less than $100,000. Berger had the endorsement of Donald Trump and a long record of delivering conservative policy and local benefits. (In another sign of how pervasive Berger’s influence is, a member of the State Board of Elections, which will oversee a recount, was forced to resign amid questions about his close ties to Berger.) Beyond the tight margin, the dynamics of Berger’s loss seem relevant to national politics in two ways: the power of anti-incumbent sentiment and the contested status of gambling in modern America.Berger has led the state Senate since Republicans recaptured it in the 2010 elections, and although he hasn’t always gotten his way—former Governor Roy Cooper eventually won a fight over expanding Medicaid under the Affordable Care Act, for example—he has over time remade North Carolina as a national laboratory for conservative policy. Berger has slashed taxes, installed conservative figures atop the state university system, reversed progressive laws, and stripped powers from Democratic governors. Berger’s son and namesake is a justice on the deeply polarized state supreme court, from which he has helped advance his father’s political agenda. Whereas Berger’s former counterparts in the state House, Thom Tillis and Tim Moore, have moved on to the U.S. Senate and House respectively, he has stayed put in Raleigh. After all, why would he want to take a step down in power?Berger may dominate North Carolina politics, but this is not the same as being the most popular politician in the state. Berger has never won statewide office, and instead relies on a map that Republicans have ruthlessly gerrymandered to keep him atop the senate. But he has also never sought much attention. I once ended an interview with Berger with the standard reporter’s question asking if he wanted to add anything. He politely declined. “I’ve had a practice since long ago that if you ask me a question, I’ll answer your question, but I generally don’t know that that does me any good,” he told me.His answer has stuck with me ever since as an encapsulation of his quiet approach. When the GOP succeeded in passing a major bill, his skilled press office would make sure that the senators who sponsored it got the attention, which no doubt helped build relationships inside this caucus—thus enabling more successes later. This approach meant Berger notched a long list of policy wins, but he didn’t necessarily win much affection with the general public.Page, Berger’s challenger, has been the sheriff in Rockingham County (which is in central North Carolina, on the Virginia border) since 1998. With his trademark cowboy hats, he’s a visible and large personality. The race wasn’t strictly ideological. Page is also very conservative and MAGA-oriented, and he’s no good-governance activist. His tenure as sheriff has been beset by scandal, as Berger reminded voters in campaign ads. Even as preelection polls suggested a close race, I was skeptical. Polling in small races like this is frequently unreliable. And besides, I thought, Phil Berger wasn’t going to lose.The immediate cause for Berger’s defeat seems to have been a bad bet on a casino. Legalized gambling has swept the nation, as my colleague McKay Coppins writes in our April cover story, and that includes North Carolina, where I am blanketed with ads for sportsbooks. But signs of backlash have begun to gather, both nationally and at the grassroots level. In 2023, Berger attempted to pass a law establishing four casinos, including one in Rockingham. A prospective operator had already bought 187 acres in Rockingham and contributed generously to Berger and his allies’ campaigns. The effort failed amid opposition from social conservatives in the area—led by Sam Page, who railed against a range of efforts to legalize gambling.More broadly, Berger fell victim to another national dynamic: fury at incumbents. The past few years have been bad times for leaders in power, who keep getting beaten in general elections, but both parties have also seen internal revolts against their existing leadership. Democrats belatedly forced Joe Biden out of the 2024 race; Mitch McConnell finds himself the villain of the GOP primary to replace him; Chuck Schumer can hear footsteps behind him; even the hard-line Mike Johnson has critics who deem him a squish.Berger delivered a long list of right-wing wins over the years, but many voters either don’t remember, don’t like the results, or don’t care. “He’s been in power so long, he’s become almost an emblem of the Republican political establishment,” Carter Wrenn, a veteran GOP operative, told The Assembly. “And that’s not popular anymore.”If Page claims the seat when the race is certified on March 25, he will just be another senator, and his lack of experience suggests that he’ll be nowhere near as effective at delivering on conservative policy as Berger, but he will better reflect his constituents’ attitude on gambling and their mood overall. Like their counterparts around the country, North Carolina voters—at least a bare majority of them—decided that was more important to them than policy gains right now.Related:McKay Coppins: My year as a degenerate gambler Why everyone thinks their government has failedHere are four new stories from The Atlantic:The incredible story of the cartel OlympicsTom Nichols: Trump had no Plan B for Iran.The hostile corporate takeover of an entire countryIran might use its economic-doomsday option.Today’s NewsThe White House released new guidelines on AI and said it will work with Congress to turn them into federal legislation that could override state laws. The proposal includes measures on data centers, workforce training, property rights, and child protections.The Pentagon is sending three warships and 2,200 to 2,500 additional Marines to the Middle East, according to U.S. officials. The deployment comes days after another major Marine movement to the region and despite President Trump saying that he has no plans to put American troops “anywhere” for now.The Senate failed for a fifth time to advance a bill funding the Department of Homeland Security, prolonging a shutdown that has left thousands of federal workers without pay and caused disruptions at airports.DispatchesThe Books Briefing: Boris Kachka on Gary Shteyngart’s search for a Nobel laureate in Cape Town.Explore all of our newsletters here.Evening ReadIllustration by The AtlanticThe Hypocrisy at the Heart of the AI IndustryBy Alex ReisnerIn April 2024, Eric Schmidt, the former Google CEO and a current AI evangelist, gave a closed-door lecture to a group of Stanford students. If these young people hoped to be Silicon Valley entrepreneurs, Schmidt explained, then they should be prepared to breach some ethical boundaries.At that point, 19 lawsuits had been filed against generative-AI companies for copyright infringement, alleging that Anthropic, OpenAI, and others had stolen books and other media to train their generative models. Yet Schmidt told the students to go ahead and download whatever they need to build an accurate “test” version of their AI product. If the product takes off, “then you hire a whole bunch of lawyers to go clean the mess up,” he said. “If nobody uses your product, then it doesn’t matter that you stole all the content.”Read the full article.More From The AtlanticTrump prepares to honor a frenemy.The dethroning of Cesar ChavezThe slow, then sudden, death of the hawkish DemocratA serious Senate debate about an unserious billAlexandra Petri: “We’d be winning this war if it weren’t for your coverage.”The homicide upending French politicsCulture Break