career was not how many people loved her, but how few didn’t. Five years ago the New York Times published an article with the headline, “Is there anything we can all agree on? Yes: Dolly Parton”. She has been publicly mourned by both Donald Trump and Zohran Mamdani. What was her secret? It started with her voice: a bright soprano with a twangy Appalachian accent. It could be honeyed and nostalgic, as in “Coat of Many Colours”, about a coat made of rags which the other children laughed at, but made her feel “rich” because of the love her mother put into it. She could sound weary and bemused, as in “9 to 5”, in which she pours herself “a cup of ambition” before toiling for an indifferent boss; or sharp, as in “Jolene”, in which she begs another, prettier woman: “Don’t take my man…even though you can.” She was a gifted writer at a time when female country singers rarely penned their own songs. Her lyrics were plain-spoken and playful; she had a knack for distilling life lessons (and quickly: she once said she may have written “Jolene” and “I Will Always Love You” on the same night). She was versatile, collaborating with Sir Paul McCartney of the Beatles and Lizzo, a singer and rapper. She acted, wrote a memoir, developed a theme park called Dollywood, created a charity that gave more than 300m books to children and died with an estimated net worth north of $450m. The first cloned sheep was named after her. A musical about her life will open on Broadway in December. People had to respect her grit. Her parents, a tenant farmer and his wife, were so poor that the doctor who delivered her was paid with a bag of cornmeal. The fourth of 12 children, she was singing on a local TV show when she was ten and made her first appearance at Nashville’s Grand Ole Opry just three years later (Johnny Cash introduced her). She had a songwriting deal before she finished high school. She teamed up with Porter Wagoner, another singer, in 1967, but soon became more popular than him and struck out on her own. She branched out into pop songs and turned her attention to business ventures, including film and TV production.
She was serious about her Christian faith, but poked fun at herself. (She once entered a Dolly Parton lookalike contest incognito and lost, to a man.) She shunned controversy. “I’m not in politics; I’m an entertainer.” She twice declined the Presidential Medal of Freedom. Asked how she had both gay and conservative religious fans, she said, “It’s two different worlds, and I live in both and I love them both.” She did, however, encourage Americans to get the covid jab with a cover of “Jolene”: “Vaccine, vaccine, vaccine, vaccine/I’m begging of you, please don’t hesitate.” She died at her home in Nashville, a few hours’ drive from where she was born, having narrowly outlived her husband of nearly 59 years. (Carl Dean, an asphalt contractor, had no interest in show business and sometimes pretended to be the gardener when journalists came knocking.) Her death was announced by her nephew, and one of her last albums featured collaborations with five generations of her extended family, thanks to some archival recordings. It was produced by a cousin, and closes with Ms Parton’s spoken words: “Until we meet again, keep the music in your heart and the mountains in your soul.” ■ This article was downloaded by zlibrary from https://www.economist.com/culture/2026/08/26/why-dolly-parton-mattered-to-america
The Philippines is going wild for its home-grown star, Alex Eala Can one player turn a country into a tennis force? Aug 27th 2026 At odds of around 5%, Alexandra Eala is far from the favourite for the US Open, the final tennis grand slam of the year, which begins in New York on August 30th. But in the competition for attention, she is the front-runner. In the build-up to the tournament, Nike released shirts emblazoned with names of the world’s top players, including Aryna Sabalenka and Jannik Sinner (the highest ranked female and male players). But it was Ms Eala’s shirt that sold out in hours, thanks to her legions of fans around the world. Ms Eala is an ace. At Wimbledon, the most prestigious grand slam, she beat Iga Swiatek, the defending champion, in the third round. A few weeks later she won her first big tournament in Washington. She has earned a reputation
for agility, cunning play from the baseline and strong return of serves; her left-handed game creates awkward angles for her right-handed opponents. Yet Ms Eala’s exploits on the court explain only part of the hype. The rest has to do with where she comes from. She is a proud Filipina and, in a country starved of world-class sporting talent, she is already a national hero. In 2025 Ms Eala became the first player from the Philippines to enter the world’s top 100. This month she broke into the top 20. “Eala-mania” is evident at her matches, which have become boisterous affairs. Demand for tickets at the Canadian Open forced an early-round match featuring Ms Eala to be moved from a 2,800-seat outside court to the marquee, 12,500-seat venue. (Toronto is home to a large number of Filipinos.) In Washington more than 80% of ticket inquiries concerned Ms Eala. Some tennis traditionalists may sniff at the flag-waving fans, but tournament organisers are delighted by them. Back in the Philippines, all the zeal has given the grassroots game a bounce. Tennis clubs and coaches report rising interest from children, which they are struggling to accommodate because the courts are booked out. Ferdinand Marcos, the country’s president, has called Ms Eala a “true inspiration”. In a state-of-the-nation address in July, Mr Marcos said his administration had tripled its funding for sport, seemingly in response to the surge of enthusiasm for tennis. Mr Marcos and other Filipinos hope Ms Eala’s emergence could eventually turn their country into a tennis force. That would be good news not just for the Philippines, but for the sport more broadly. Tennis is enjoyed almost everywhere. Its governing body estimates that more than 100m people play it recreationally, of whom a third are in Asia. Yet its elite players come from a shallow pool of countries. In 2025, 88% of the women’s year-end top 50 came from Europe and North America—roughly the same share as in 1990. Can a single world-class player change a country’s tennis fortunes? Fans have plenty of anecdotes. Bjorn Borg’s dominance in the 1970s, for example, set off a tennis craze in Sweden, which produced top talent in the next generation. The emergence of the Czech Republic as a tennis
powerhouse is often attributed to Martina Navratilova, the all-conquering champion of the 1980s. To see whether this reflects a broader pattern, The Economist examined year-end rankings going back nearly half a century. We identified the year each country produced its first truly elite player—defined as someone ranked in the top 20—and looked at whether more highly ranked players from the same country appeared afterwards. For women, they usually did. Of 32 countries whose first top-20 woman emerged between 1983 and 2020, 28 subsequently fielded more top-50 players. On average, their representation roughly tripled, from about 0.5 players in the top 50 in the five years before the breakthrough to nearly 1.5 in the five afterwards. (The pattern was less pronounced for men. Among 22 pioneer countries, top-50 representation rose from 0.4 players to 1.) The patterns may be correlational, but other evidence suggests that trailblazers matter. Studies find that stars are especially encouraging to girls, because they make achievement seem attainable. In one Canadian study of teenage female athletes, more than half said there were too few role models in sport; 60% said they would be more likely to persist with a sport if there were more female exemplars.
Yet trailblazers can do only so much. A new paper analysing player rankings from 2000 to 2024 finds that countries with more tennis players and courts tend to produce more top pros. A deep “tennis culture”—captured by factors such as hosting international tournaments—is associated with better results, especially for women. Ms Eala illustrates the challenge. Growing up, she sometimes practised on courts that doubled as basketball ones; at 13 she left home to train in Spain on a scholarship. She may inspire thousands of Filipino children to pick up a racket, but turning enthusiasm into champions will depend on more prosaic things such as facilities, investment and infrastructure. One star can start a rally. Building a tennis powerhouse is a longer game. ■ This article was downloaded by zlibrary from https://www.economist.com/culture/2026/08/27/the-philippines-is-going-wild-for-its- home-grown-star-alex-eala
America’s cannabis-drinks market is booming— and imperilled This reflects the country’s two-faced attitude towards the drug Aug 27th 2026 Possession of any amount of recreational cannabis is an imprisonable offence in Texas. And yet in many places where Texans buy beer, they can also find drinks infused with tetrahydrocannabinol (THC), the psychoactive component of cannabis. THC drinks are flying off the shelves—and not just in the Lone Star State. Their rise stems from changing social mores and regulatory confusion. Start with the first. Alcohol sales are declining as youngsters drink less than older generations. But some teetotallers welcome a buzz. THC was once stigmatised for leaving users sprawled and giggling on the sofa, wrist-deep in a bag of crisps. Today, though, it has a veneer of “wellness”.