For too long, philanthropy has hidden behind the twin gatekeepers of fiduciary duty and perpetuity to avoid giving more when communities need it most. Last year, the Marguerite Casey Foundation provided a one-time fivefold increase in funding to meet a deepening moment of crisis. We learned this was a lifeline to many organizations facing increasing attacks and whose funders were pulling back from supporting racial and economic justice organizing.

The damage we’re seeing—from cuts to essential government services and ICE raids to a corrupt federal government orchestrating the largest transfer of wealth from the poorest people to the richest in our nation—will have impacts for a generation. Philanthropy must provide resources at a scale and with a fervor that meaningfully responds to the reality of the world around us.

Yet, at a time when funders should be doing more, The Center for Effective Philanthropy recently documented a stunning disconnect: the vast majority of philanthropic leaders believe everything is fine, while the nonprofit sector is suffering job losses, burnout, and uncertainty. To address this gap between foundation comfort and community suffering, our sector must evolve how we move money.

A foundation more concerned with preserving its endowment than in meeting its mission must question whether it is living into its charitable purpose.

The traditional philanthropic model limits annual giving to 5% of a foundation’s total assets. A commonly cited reason for this approach is fiduciary duty. Foundation trustees and leaders invoke fiduciary duty to shut down conversations about increased payout: "We can't give more than 5% of our assets because we have to exercise fiduciary responsibility."

But after a series of deep conversations with our board, examining legal frameworks and sharpening our definitions, we arrived at a different conclusion: fiduciary duty is a duty to mission. So if our mission is to transform the government so it delivers on the promise of a good life for all people then right now is precisely when we need to make the deepest commitment we possibly can. Increasing our annual grantmaking by 50% to a minimum of $500M over the next decade is how we’re putting into practice our sharpened understanding of fiduciary duty to mission.

The second assumption we examined was the unexamined belief that foundations must exist forever by growing their endowments at any cost, even when that cost is investing in corporations that work at cross-purposes to our mission. Perpetuity, often written directly into a foundation's bylaws, is the second gateway where conversations about increased payout often go to die.

The logic sounds reasonable on its face: to last forever, a foundation must preserve and grow its endowment infinitely. But a foundation more concerned with preserving its endowment than in meeting its mission must question whether it is living into its charitable purpose. We hope that our commitment to give $500M over ten years will serve as a powerful proof point for our sector that a vastly increased payout and perpetuity can and must coexist.

If our mission is to transform the government so it delivers on the promise of a good life for all people then right now is precisely when we need to make the deepest commitment we possibly can.

Through rigorous investment stress testing, we found that most foundations can, in fact, drastically increase their payout even while adhering to a commitment to perpetuity. When we took a closer look at our own bylaws, it became clear that our perpetuity clause doesn’t define “perpetuity” as endless upward growth of the endowment. Instead, perpetuity simply means lasting forever—it says nothing about getting larger forever. Our sector has confused endless growth with existing over the long-term. At MCF, we’re untangling the two and showing how a foundation can last indefinitely while also spending down its endowment to a predetermined level. The two are not in conflict.

Instead of a grantmaking formula determined by a rigid percentage of total assets, we now operate from a sharpened approach: fiduciary duty centers mission, and perpetuity means building durable community power, not endlessly growing our own money for an unpromised tomorrow. We are not alone in this realization or practice. Many of our philanthropic partners have been giving above and beyond the 5%, realizing that "forever" has become an excuse for "not now."

The crises we’re facing are too big for business as usual. Our invitation to foundation leaders reading this: let’s evolve our practice of fiduciary duty and perpetuity so we can move the money to the community organizers, scholars, municipal leaders, and meaning-makers creating a future worthy of living.

For more than two weeks, hundreds of detainees at Delaney Hall immigration detention center have been on hunger and labor strike. They are protesting consistent medical neglect; being fed rotten, maggot-filled food; as well as overcrowded and poorly maintained living conditions. Outside the facility, protesters have clashed with federal agents, leading to dozens of arrests.

The Department of Homeland Security (DHS) and the Geo Group, the private prison company that operates Delaney Hall, have severely restricted access into the facility. On June 8, they finally granted New Jersey Governor Mikie Sherrill a “closely controlled and limited tour of the facility.” This is unsurprising. DHS has unlawfully prevented elected officials from entering Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) facilities in Illinois, Minnesota, Maryland, Colorado, Mississippi, Texas, New York, and California.

Geo Group has likewise sought to restrict access to their facilities. In fact, on June 8, they filed a lawsuit against Colorado challenging a new law that requires all detention facilities in the state to undergo more regular inspections. The law further mandates that such facilities must always have medical and mental health professionals available on site. A spokesperson for Geo Group claimed that the new law has “the purpose of making it more difficult for federal immigration officers to carry out their responsibilities in Colorado and impose direct burdens and requirements on facilities used in immigration operations.”

Describing more oversight and requiring medical staff as “burdens” is a telling admission that ultimately points to the broader problem here. What is occurring at Delaney Hall is not an isolated incident. In fact, there is another hunger and labor strike currently happening at the Adelanto ICE Processing Center in California. From April to mid-May 2026, hundreds of detainees at North Lake Processing Center in Michigan also went on strike. Both are operated by Geo Group.

The current system of mass deportation and detention is cruel, costly, and ultimately unnecessary.

Depriving detainees of medical services, hygiene products, fresh food, and basic accommodations is part of a deliberate strategy aimed at maximizing profits for private prison companies as well as achieving the xenophobic goals of DHS.

In addition to multimillion-dollar government contracts, private prison companies profit by exploiting the labor of detainees via the “Voluntary Work Program.” Participants are typically paid $1 per day regardless of the number of hours they work.

Despite the name, this program is far from voluntary. First, because basic amenities are not provided, detainees must rely on the company’s commissary and its limited assortment of overpriced goods. In 2019, the Adelanto facility charged $3.25 for a can of tuna, $7.12 for a 2.5oz tube of denture cream, and $11.02 for a 4oz tube of toothpaste.

Second, those who refuse to work may be subject to retaliatory measures. In 2022, detainees at the Mesa Verde Detention Facility and Golden State Annex—both operated by Geo Group—went on a labor strike. Like the detainees in Delaney Hall, they too were protesting inhumane living conditions. Those who participated in the strike reported being kept in prolonged solitary confinement and denied medical treatment due to their involvement.

This is the economics of detention: intentionally underserving detainees generates demand for overpriced commissary goods. Their desperation and vulnerability are exploited to force them to work long hours for meager wages. All the while the company generates millions in profits.

Amid President Donald Trump’s mass deportation regime, Geo Group’s profits soared from $32 million in 2024 to $254 million in 2025. The company spent over $3.6 million on lobbying expenditures over the same period.

Geo Group is not alone here. About 86% of all detainees are held in facilities operated by for-profit companies, including CoreCivic, Lasalle Corrections, Ahtna Technical Services, and Management & Training Corporation (MTC).

This brutality also serves the interest of DHS. For instance, in 2025, a family from Venezuela was given permission to live and work in the US while their asylum case was pending. At their hearing, the judge immediately dismissed their case without even listening to their testimony. They were then detained by ICE and transferred to the South Texas Family Residential Center—a privately-run facility operated by CoreCivic.

After a month, they were released, but the damage had been done. The psychological stress, trauma, and fear of being detained again drove the family to self-deport. As one of the parents put it, “As soon as we got out [of detention], I told my husband, we’re leaving this country, I don’t care where we end up, but we’re not staying here.” She even called other neighbors to warn them to stay inside. “I never want anyone to go through the same experience we went through inside the detention center.”

That’s the point. Deportations are expensive. In January 2026, DHS reported that the “current cost of a single enforced deportation is $18,245.” For this reason, DHS has adopted a practice of “attrition through enforcement”—the explicit goal here is making life so incredibly difficult that immigrants will decide to leave the US rather than endure the hardship. To this end, the Trump administration has abused its authority to cut off immigrants—both documented and undocumented—from jobs, medical care, financial services, tax credits, and even childcare.

Detention centers are also part of this strategy. Kamel Maklad, a former detainee who spent more than two years at the CoreCivic-operated Eloy Detention Center, explained that guards consistently tried to find excuses to put people in solitary confinement. “They do it so that the detainee, out of desperation, will hurry up and request voluntary deportation.” He further added that one guard explicitly told him: “It’s part of my job. I have to make your life miserable so that you request your own deportation.”

All immigration detention centers—and ICE more broadly—must be abolished. They are dehumanizing institutions born out of capitalist greed, xenophobia, and the callous indifference to the suffering of others.

A better path is possible. In fact, before Trump, the US was on a (relatively) better track. In 2017, he eliminated the Family Case Management Program (FCMP). FCMP paired immigrants with pending court cases with social workers who offered legal guidance. On average, 99% of participants complied with ICE check-ins and appointments, and 100% attended their court hearings. Out of 954 people, only 23 were reported as absconders. FCMP cost about $38 per family per day in 2017. By contrast, in 2019, DHS estimated that the average daily rate for family beds at a detention center was $318.79. This is one of many cost-effective and humane alternatives to the current system of mass detention.

It is worth stressing here that only 5% of people detained by ICE have violent criminal convictions—73% have none. Detention centers are not protecting the public from dangerous “foreign invaders.” The vast majority of immigrants meaningfully contribute to our communities—they pay taxes, drive innovation, and contribute to the economy. Even if they didn’t, however, they are still human beings worthy of respect and dignity.

The current system of mass deportation and detention is cruel, costly, and ultimately unnecessary. We can and must do better.

Years ago, when I was pregnant with my first child, I called my mother in a panic: I had been trying to find a childcare spot for when I planned to go back to work. But every childcare center I called had a waiting list of at least a year. I was distraught. Then my mom suddenly cut me off and asked, “Are you going to have strangers raising your baby?”

Her question stopped me short. And yet, it was also nonsensical. I was a couple of years out of law school, and had just started a career that I loved. My husband and I had mountains of student loan debt. There was no way we could afford for one of us not to work. And we lived 3,000 miles away from my parents. The only choice for us, really, was to put our daughter in childcare.

I was reminded of that moment recently when, during a news conference, Alex Adams, who leads the Administration for Children and Families (ACF) at the US Department of Health and Human Services, bemoaned that childcare policies in the US limit parental choices and undervalue “mothers staying home with their children during their earliest years.” This follows reporting that Adams wants a “bonfire of regulations” around childcare, and recent actions by ACF that will increase childcare costs for families and financial challenges for childcare providers. As I listened, I realized that Adams is proposing the wrong answer, just as my mother was asking me the wrong question 23 years ago. What we should be asking is what would actually help families raise their children in the ways that work best for them.

The truth is that our country is not set up to give families real choices, then or now. Families can’t survive on one salary because wages have stagnated, with the federal minimum wage frozen at a measly $7.25 for over two decades. The costs of living are skyrocketing out of reach for an increasing number of families. We are one of only a handful of countries that do not offer paid family and medical leave. Our childcare system has been chronically underfunded to the point of crisis, with families unable to access or afford care, providers operating on razor-thin profit margins, and early educators earning poverty-level wages.

The policy failures that have limited families’ choices can only be fixed by making robust public investments—not by pitting families against each other.

It bears underscoring, moreover, that families’ needs vary wildly, and they want a range of options to care for their children, including having access to high quality, affordable childcare in a variety of settings. The policy failures that have limited families’ choices can only be fixed by making robust public investments—not by pitting families against each other. Cutting care supports and slashing programs that help families afford food and healthcare, as this administration has relentlessly done since last January, is only going to limit families’ choices even further.

My mother’s question still rings in my ears all these years later, even though that baby has since graduated from college. To be clear, I was startled by the question but not surprised. My mother comes from Southeast Asia. There was little care infrastructure in her country when she was young, by which I mean there was literally no alternative for caring for children, elders, and family members who are ill or have disabilities, other than family. Her grandmother took care of her when her mother was at work. That was the model in her mind.

When my parents got married and came to the United States, my dad was the breadwinner, and my mom stayed home to care for my two sisters and me (and at one point, for my grandmother while she was undergoing cancer treatment). For her, families take care of each other; there’s no other way.

Even though this administration likes to invoke a simpler, glorified past, the reality back then was more complicated, however: Part of the reason my mom stayed home with the three of us was that my parents didn’t have great options either. My mother, the first in her family to go to college, was a teacher who supported her extended family financially in her home country.

When she came to the US, her degree and teacher’s license weren’t recognized—she couldn’t have worked in her chosen profession without going back to school. For her to work outside the home, we would have needed a second car (which my parents couldn’t afford). There were even fewer childcare options then, and we didn’t live close to my dad’s family for much of my childhood—even if we had, my grandparents had their own health issues.

My mother is also quick to point out that, even though she and my dad raised three children on one salary, it was not easy. She cut our hair and made our clothes. She pretty much cooked everything from scratch, and it didn’t look anything like Ballerina Farm. She periodically watched kids in our neighborhood after school, and did some sewing to earn extra income. She traveled to visit her family only twice in 16 years, and the second time was to help care for her dying mother.

The truth of the matter is that raising young children is hard, especially in a nation that stubbornly refuses to invest in care. I am grateful that my husband and I had help, not only from exquisitely skilled and caring “strangers,” but also my parents who visited as much as they could, my in-laws who lived nearby, and friends and neighbors. To be sure, my family has had more options and flexibility and resources than many. But all families deserve choices that enable them to care for their children according to their values and needs. In order to give families real options, we must invest real dollars in care systems, communities, and in wages and benefits that allow all families to thrive.

The Republican revolt against President Donald Trump began over an issue that was never supposed to become a crisis: another war in the Middle East.

In recent weeks, a group of Republican members of Congress has openly challenged the White House—not over taxes, immigration, or even the budget, but over the most fundamental power of any president: the authority to lead the country into war. When several Republicans chose to stand alongside Democrats and support efforts to limit the president’s war powers, something greater than a routine legislative vote took place. This was not merely a legal disagreement over the interpretation of the Constitution; it was a sign of a deeper fracture emerging at the core of a movement that was once united around Trump’s leadership.

In Washington, politicians have often voted against presidents from opposing parties. But when members of a party are willing to confront their own president on the most sensitive issue imaginable—war and peace—we are no longer dealing with a tactical disagreement. This is the moment when intellectual and ideological divisions begin to reveal themselves through political behavior.

The central question is not why a handful of Republicans have found themselves at odds with Trump. The more important question is why this disagreement has emerged precisely over an issue that was once one of the foundational pillars of Trump’s political project.

Iran today is more than just a foreign-policy issue; it is a test of Trumpism’s political credibility.

To understand the significance of this development, one must return to 2016.

Trump’s success was not simply the product of economic frustration or public dissatisfaction with political elites. He was able to build a new coalition because he was willing to challenge one of the most sacred assumptions of Washington’s foreign-policy establishment. While many Republicans continued to defend the legacy of two decades of American military interventions, Trump called the Iraq War a disaster. He argued that the United States had spent trillions of dollars in the Middle East, lost thousands of its soldiers, and still failed to achieve the security and stability it had been promised.

For millions of voters, these remarks were not merely a critique of a single war. They represented the declaration of the end of an era.

Trump promised them that America would no longer become entangled in endless wars. He pledged to separate foreign policy from idealistic nation-building projects and open-ended missions, and to refocus it on tangible American interests. It was precisely from this promise that the slogan “America First” drew much of its power.

A significant portion of Trump’s political base was neither isolationist nor anti-power. They believed America should remain strong, but that strength should not require perpetual involvement in distant conflicts. They supported a president who claimed to have learned the lessons of Iraq and Afghanistan.

That is why Iran today is more than just a foreign-policy issue; it is a test of Trumpism’s political credibility.

For many Republicans, the primary concern is not Iran itself, but the memory of Iraq. Once again, they see familiar warning signs: escalating tensions, gradually expanding objectives, requests for broader executive authority, and arguments that tie American security to the complex dynamics of the Middle East. These similarities are enough to prompt some conservatives to warn against repeating the mistakes of the past.

This is why the votes cast by some Republicans in favor of restricting presidential war powers have acquired symbolic significance. These votes were not merely attempts to restrain a specific policy decision; they were efforts to prevent a return to a pattern that Trump himself once claimed to oppose.

In reality, a segment of the Republican Party now faces a paradox that few would have imagined in 2016. They find themselves in the position of having to oppose certain decisions by Trump in order to defend the very principles that originally drew them toward him.

This is the point at which political disagreements evolve into an identity crisis.

At the same time, the issue extends beyond war itself. In the United States, wars have never been purely military phenomena. They shape the economy, influence domestic politics, affect public spending, and alter the balance of power within government. Major wars often lead to the expansion of executive authority, the growing influence of security institutions, and shifts in national political priorities.

From this perspective, Republican resistance to expanding presidential war powers is not driven solely by geopolitical concerns. Many are also worried about the domestic consequences of such a trajectory. Some conservatives believe that the deeper America becomes involved in foreign crises, the greater the concentration of power in Washington—a result that stands in direct contradiction to the original promises of the America First movement.

Here, the great contradiction of the Trump era becomes visible.

Trump rose to power by presenting himself as an opponent of two trends: endless wars and the increasing concentration of power in the nation’s capital. Yet today, some Republicans feel that both trends are reemerging. From their perspective, the issue is not simply that America may be entering another Middle Eastern crisis; it is that such a crisis could revive the very political and security structures that Trumpism was supposed to rebel against.

For this reason, recent disagreements should not be interpreted merely as a temporary dispute between the White House and Congress. What is unfolding today is a clash between two competing interpretations of “America First.”

In the first interpretation, presidential authority and greater freedom of action in foreign policy are considered necessary for safeguarding national security. In the second, fidelity to the movement’s founding principles requires avoiding a slide into new wars and subjecting presidential war powers to stricter oversight.

This divide is likely to deepen in the months ahead because Iran is not merely a regional crisis. It has become a mirror in which Republicans see their own past—the promises they made, the wars they criticized, and the movement that claimed it would redefine American foreign policy.

Perhaps the most important point is this: Today’s Republican rebellion against Trump does not necessarily stem from opposition to Trumpism itself. In many cases, it arises precisely because some Republicans believe Trumpism is drifting away from its own founding principles.

Ultimately, the current crisis is less about Iran than about identity.

It is about whether the America First movement remains the same movement that once promised to end endless wars, or whether it is gradually becoming a new version of the very foreign-policy establishment it once rose up against.

And perhaps that is why the most dangerous challenge facing Trump is not emerging in Tehran, but within the Republican Party itself—where some of his former allies are no longer certain that loyalty to Trump still means loyalty to the original ideals of Trumpism.

One of the (many) curses of the Trump era is that he keeps us fixated, hour by hour, on his latest stupidity or fraud, a constant swirling game of three-card monte that ends only when he robs some more of our attention and money. So I will try valiantly for a moment to escape his asteroid belt of provocation (it’s not easy—did you know that America decided this week to sink a few billion into promoting… coal?) and try to think a little more broadly.

This step back is occasioned by Thomas Piketty and his team at the World Inequality Lab in Paris, who last week released the Global Justice Report, subtitled A Plan for Equality & Prosperity Within Planetary Boundaries. Piketty, you will recall, is the London-born economist who in 2013 released his book Capital, in many ways launching the ongoing critique of global inequality and the generalized scorn for the billionaire class. (At one point, remember, America and the world generally admired these people).

Now he and his team has enlarged their analysis to include the 21st century’s novel dilemma—that we are steadily and rapidly overheating the planet—and the result is this report, which I read in certain ways as the data-rich companion to Naomi Klein’s 2014 classic This Changes Everything, an investigation of whether it is possible to imagine prosperity without ruinous growth. Much has changed in the years since those volumes—most importantly, the plummeting price of solar and wind energy and of batteries to store that power has opened up a much larger escape hatch. And it’s from that premise that Piketty’s new work really proceeds.

There’s an ever-better case for taxing the hell out of billionaires even if all you do is bury the resulting money in a hole in the ground.

The Global Justice Project says that rapid decarbonization is a must, and that it needs to be paid for by the rich, and that that payment should come in the form of a global wealth tax and a global income tax, which funnel fairly large sums of money from the north to the south. They aim for a “sufficiency” world, in which all have enough and where the share of wealth owned by the richest 1% drops dramatically—a kind of globalized Sweden, I’d say, in which people work half the hours we do at present, and consume more education and healthcare and less stuff. They view it as an alternative to “degrowth” scenarios, and also to our current unrestrained growth model, and say that it leaves the world with lower temperatures than either of those schemes.:

To avoid climate catastrophes, we show that sufficiency is required: a structural transformation of the economy involving shorter working hours, a lower material footprint, a shift from material-intensive sectors toward relatively immaterial sectors such as education and health, and major changes in food systems and land use. Rapid decarbonization of energy systems is also necessary, as is the sharp compression of income and wealth inequality. This compression is both a social justice objective and a condition for financing necessary climate investment and human capital expenditure and for sustaining political support from bottom- and middle-income classes in both the North and the South.

Here’s a little diagram they provide of the basic outline.

I have a certain sympathy for the argument—expressed most pithily by David Roberts on Bluesky—that this kind of sky-castle architecture doesn’t amount to much; I too am more fascinated by the daily drumbeat of technological innovation. And I think that the accumulation of that innovation may undermine part of Piketty’s argument; I have a feeling that the investment required for decarbonization is going to be easier to come by, as the price for good stuff just keeps falling, and the economic logic of paying for fossil fuel becomes ever smaller.

But I also think that the climate crisis is not the only ecological threat we face, nor indeed the only threat period. I think it’s pretty clear that democracy can’t survive inequality; there’s an ever-better case for taxing the hell out of billionaires even if all you do is bury the resulting money in a hole in the ground. One possibility is that the mega rich will succeed in their current project of deliberalizing the planet, and we’ll all get to live in our own nasty little sovereignties; another is that the Bernie Sanderses resident in most parts of the world will figure out how to combine their efforts and that over time we’ll get something that looks a bit like what Piketty (or for that matter Kim Stanley Robinson in Ministry for the Future) imagines. One tell for me that this team is not entirely politically detached came in this paragraph about what would happen if America (or China) predictably refused to join in such a scheme:

If necessary, the Global Justice Platform can be implemented with an incomplete coalition of countries, including the absence of the US and/or China. According to our projections, the climate damages imposed by the US on other countries would be about 3% of world GDP per year, on average, over the 2026-2100 period if the US does not participate in the GJP. Under simplifying assumptions, other countries should impose a corrective tax of approximately 80% on all US exports to collect tax revenues approximately equivalent to the damage. Given the projected decline of the US share in world GDP—from 30% in 1945 to 15% in 2025 and 5-10% by 2100—it is likely that such tariffs would induce the US to join the GJP. The same conclusion applies to the case of China, but with a higher tariff (180% or more).

The report concludes that

A habitable, equal 21st century is materially possible. What stands in the way is not technical impossibility but political choice and the hard but crucial work of building a coalition behind it.

I think that’s a worthy goal to keep in the back of our minds as we proceed with the daily work of building the infrastructure for this new world; every election is a chance to get us a little closer, by electing the kind of people who understand the need for this kind of compression of wealth.

But the infrastructure is the part we can do something about right now, and on that score there’s some equal mix of encouraging maddening news, all of it again on a large scale.

On the one hand, our farcical war in the Gulf continues to serve as the recruiting sergeant for the renewable revolution. As a Bloomberg team reports in a long and important essay, the Gulf War has been “Asia’s Ukraine”:

About two hours from Manila there’s a solar power plant capable of powering 60,000 homes. Surrounded by fields growing okra and eggplant, it had been sitting idle since August, waiting for a connection to the grid—stuck in a queue just like many other renewable energy facilities around the world as power networks struggle to catch up with rising electricity demand.

Then the Iran war cut off the Philippines’ supply of imported liquefied natural gas. Immediately, the government cut fuel taxes and offered free bus rides to the public. Then a few weeks later, as the Strait of Hormuz remained blocked, officials began deploying policies toward a deeper, more structural plan to reduce the country’s dependence on fossil fuels.

One strategy was to fast track more than 30 renewable plants by the end of April. One of those was that 125-megawatt solar plant, built by Citicore Renewable Energy Corp, which is now supplying clean energy to the grid. It is “good timing,” said Joselito Ernst Cañete, operations manager at Citicore, just as electricity demand increases to power air conditioners during the peak summer months.

What happened in the Philppines isn’t an isolated example. With their energy supplies threatened, countries across Asia and Europe have chosen to speed up deployment of renewables and electrification.

Meanwhile, the cheerful solar guru Danny Kennedy chimed in from a conference in Singapore where he found the Western politicians and analysts way behind the Asian curve. I will quote from his account at some length because it’s important:

Philippines. After declaring a national energy emergency in March, the government activated a whole-of-government mandate for energy security. Regulatory bottlenecks for renewables are being dismantled. Rooftop solar inquiries are up 500% since the crisis began. This is not a green ambition. This is a survival response.

Vietnam. The country has revised its power development plan, targeting a minimum of 47% renewable electricity generation by 2030. Vietnam is already the region’s largest EV market, and its government has expanded EV tax incentives in direct response to the Iran War’s impact on fuel prices. HSBC recently extended $4 billion in clean-tech financing to Chinese firms, much of it flowing into EV and solar exports to Vietnam and ASEAN.

Indonesia. Beyond the factory I visited in Batam, the government is engineering a broad fiscal shift—expanding EV incentives with a target of 2 million electric cars and 12 million electric two-wheelers on the road by 2030. With the world’s largest nickel reserves, Indonesia is positioning itself to replace diesel imports with a domestic battery ecosystem. The logic is national sovereignty as much as climate policy. We’ve also talked about their 100GW solar archipelago plans.

Thailand. Advanced its net zero target by 15 full years, to 2050. Solar generation surged 72% in 2025. The country is adding 50 GW of renewables and 14 GW of energy storage by 2037. A major 1 GW module supply deal between China’s GCL-SI and Thailand’s Getz Energy was just signed to support that buildout.

Singapore itself. Already scaled solar to 1.7 GW and is executing multi-gigawatt cross-border subsea clean electricity cables from Indonesia, Cambodia, and Vietnam—with a requirement that developers bundle storage at origin for 24/7 firm power delivery. Singapore, to its credit, is acting. The conference, perhaps, just needed a bigger window.

We already know China and India—the two largest energy consumers in Asia—reached a historic tipping point together in 2025. For the first time, fossil fuel generation fell in both countries simultaneously: China down 0.9%, India down 3.3%. These are not small numbers. These are inflection points.

And yet even as this good news is happening, the Chinese are also beginning to shutter many of the solar panel factories that are at the heart of this revolution, because they’re not making enough money. This is, on the hand, understandable, and on the other entirely maddening—these factories are the single most important industrial asset on Earth—they are factories for lowering the temperature of the Earth. As readers are doubtless painfully aware, I’ve been beating this drum for a good long while, but I’m glad to see others joining in. Adam Tooze, the interesting bricoleur in charge of the Chartbook newsletter, wrote in the FT this week, it would be understandable if we were talking about some mundane commodity like cement:

But solar panels? Since when were solar panels just another commodity? They are a technological miracle. They make us into farmers of the sun. For the past half century, research labs around the world, starting in the 1970s with NASA spin-offs and the big US energy research push under Jimmy Carter, have been straining to reach this point. Together with batteries, which are also rapidly approaching the point of excess supply, they are the key to a sustainable future.

As Tooze points out, it cost China very little in subsidies ($18 billion) to build this behemoth (though one should probably add in the subsidies that, say, Germany provided to its citizens to buy the early models, underwriting the startup of China’s engineering miracle).

I’ve long argued that on a rational world, trying everything it could to head off the worst of global warming, we would “globalize” these factories, running them 24/7 and then piling up the panels on every railroad siding and wharf on the planet so that people could come take them away. This would be, I think, a backdoor way of achieving a fair amount of what Piketty has in mind, far messier than his global scheme but somewhat more plausible. By some calculations, 10 years production from those plants would produce enough panels to provide all the power the world currently uses.

If my sense that the coming El Niño will revive the world’s focus on the climate crisis—well, this is the easiest possible route forward. And it comes not just with more power, but with different power. Elon Musk may be rushing his IPO for data centers in space or whatever the heck he’s currently selling, but some of us will hole up here on Earth, quite sufficient with the solar panels in our yards.

As those active in the field will often say, politics is a tough business – it ain’t for everyone. Saikat Chakrabarti, would-be successor to retiring San Francisco Representative and past Speaker of the House Nancy Pelosi, is a recent case in point: a candidate who seemed a perfect fit for the city’s political scene, yet failed to win one of the two slots in the November final. What is unusual about the Chakrabarti story is while we’re all too familiar with political figures who have mastered the art of winning and holding office at the expense of developing a clear vision of why they’re doing it, his problem has largely been the reverse.

Chakrabarti brought two major assets to the race: ideas and money. Some of his past ideas had been quite impactful. After significant involvement in Bernie Sanders’ seminal 2016 presidential campaign, he co-founded Brand New Congress to recruit new congressional candidates, one of whom was Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez. While Brand New Congress proved ephemeral, Justice Democrats, a subsequent organization he also co-founded, has proven to have staying power, continuing to promote Sanders-stripe candidates – with notable successes. Chakrabarti’s money derives from his role as a founding engineer of the then-start-up Stripe, a payments processing company. He is known to be a centimillionaire.

The connection with Ocasio-Cortez went on to became substantial, as he served as her campaign manager, chief of staff following her 2018 upset election to Congress, and a principal in the formulation of the Green New Deal legislation that she introduced in the House. Unfortunately, Chakrabarti himself did not fare so well within the walls of the House as he had without. He soon drew fire within the Democratic Caucus for sending out tweets criticizing other House members by name. Although he had previously shown great facility in dealing with both “big picture” political questions as well as the mechanics of campaigning, the curriculum doesn’t stop there. What he had apparently failed to understand was that while members of Congress may choose to criticize their colleagues by name, their staff are not expected to do so without the approval of the elected representative. Before her first year in office was out, he and Ocasio-Cortez would part ways. He went on to work on Green New Deal-type issues in an outside organization. Neither would subsequently speak in great detail about the parting. She did not endorse his congressional run.

In October 2025, Chakrabarti formally announced his candidacy for the San Francisco congressional seat. It was widely expected that the Speaker Emerita would not be running for re-election, but then she had surprised many by running for the term she was now serving after losing the speakership to the Republicans and stepping down from party leadership – and had made no statement regarding her 2026 intentions. Chakrabarti’s move forced the hand of State Senator Scott Wiener whose desire to succeed Pelosi was well known. (It had also previously been widely assumed that when Wiener did run he would ultimately get the nod of the Pelosi-Willie Brown establishment wing of the party, something that did not happen, presumably in part due to his announcing for the seat before Pelosi indicated her intention to leave it.)

To one unfamiliar with the details of San Francisco politics the Chakrabarti candidacy would likely have seemed a welcome development for the a left that has long been frustrated by city’s domination by what they considered the corporate-oriented wing of the Democratic Party – here was a big picture candidate with the capacity to run a high budget campaign. (Chakrabarti put in something like $10 million of his own money over the course of the campaign.) And he even seemed to recognize the fundamental truth that the wealthy will generally deny to their dying days – that all value comes from labor, telling supporters at his kick-off rally, “I ended up making a lot of money, and that was a profoundly weird and radicalizing experience,” but “I did not work harder than my teacher or a nurse or the people cleaning our offices ...I just won the startup lottery.”

But the campaign did not turn out as hoped. At the time of this writing the latest tally shows him at 17 percent, trailing Weiner at 41 percent and Supervisor Connie Chan at 29 percent. Chan, who much of the city’s left ultimately rallied around, might never have run if Chakrabarti had actually proved to be that hoped-for candidate. So what went wrong? Well, for one thing it wasn’t that his potential base refused to vote for a wealthy candidate who appeared to be trying to buy the office. Billionaire gubernatorial candidate Tom Steyer, who spent over $200 million on his race, carried San Francisco by a 38-25 percent margin over statewide frontrunner Xavier Becerra, the voters apparently deciding that he been putting his ill-gotten gains to good use.

A San Francisco Chronicle post mortem maintained that Chakrabarti’s problem was that he didn’t meet the right people. An article painting the city’s politics as special – which they are, just like every other city’s politics are special – described “San Francisco’s bare-knuckled political scene that is famously described as a ‘knife-fight in a phone booth’” to which “San Francisco Democratic Party Chair Nancy Tung added a telling detail ... ‘It’s a knife fight in a phone booth where you know everybody in the phone booth.’” The article goes on to say that, “Chakrabarti didn’t reach out to Tung,” and “More surprisingly, he didn’t reach out to [former Supervisor Aaron] Peskin, who is deeply wired into the city’s left.” Here the Chronicle ever so slightly touches on the real story, one that was covered by the city’s online publications, particularly 48 Hills and Mission Local.

Unmentioned in the Chronicle article is the fact that Peskin had been the candidate of the left in the city’s 2024 mayoral election and not only did Chakrabarti fail to meet Peskin, but he supported his opponent, the winner and current mayor Daniel Lurie (who has just successfully led the opposition to a ballot question proposing an increase to the rate and scope of the city’s Overpaid Executive Tax that is levied on companies with executives making more than 100 times the median employee compensation.) Perhaps even more importantly though, Chakrabarti also supported the candidate who supplanted Dean Preston on the city’s Board of Supervisors. Preston, a member of the Democratic Socialists of America, had been the city’s elected official most prominently championing the type of politics that Chakrabarti proclaimed that he was all about. And not just did he support Bilal Mahmood against Preston in 2024, but he donated to his campaign funds – plural because while contributions to supervisorial races are limited to $500, candidates can and often do simultaneously run campaigns for the Democratic County Central Committee, a race run without that contribution limit – the money spent on one race obviously redounding to the benefit of both. Chakrabarti contributed not only the maximum $500 to Mahmood’s supervisorial campaign, but also an additional $10,000 to his successful DCCC campaign in which he ran on what 48 Hills called “the right-wing corporate slate that took over the local Democratic Party” – ironically the same one that Party Chair Nancy Tung ran on.

It’s an unfortunate story really. The tangle of policy, principle, friendship, relationships, and future prospects that may go into endorsement decisions can be a thorny matter for anyone involved in politics, but in this case the opposition to Preston was really not a close question. For many it was simply disqualifying – after all, if he was off on this, what else might he be off on? Absent such egregious errors Chakrabarti might have been the candidate the San Francisco left was hoping for; he was talking a more radical talk than Chan does. Hopefully he’ll go on to make further useful policy contributions. Who knows maybe he’ll even try the electoral route again some time. But if he does, maybe he will have learned by then that there’s more to it than just knowing which way you’d vote on the big bills. Politics is a tough business – it ain’t for everyone.

On Thursday evening last week, I attended the Colorado Democratic gubernatorial debate at the invitation of Colorado’s attorney general, Phil Weiser. Weiser and US Sen. Michael Bennet are facing off in the upcoming June 30th primary.

Colorado’s next governor needs to be aware that not having enough money to retire comfortably is not a moral failing and that we deserve the same protections as those who are more financially set in life. We support AG Weiser to be our next governor in large part due to his fight back, intelligence, and decency. Yet what solidified that support following the debate was knowing what wasn’t said and why it wasn’t said—and knowing Weiser didn’t play those games with those partaking in the debate.

We do not like being played for fools, and Weiser never seems to do that—though he is aware we are not wealthy donors or wealthy at all. Listening closely to what was said and not said is a skill I’ve honed after raising six children and after working in and around political folks in Washington, DC and closer to home. Even as a child, being able to read a room or figure out if I’m in danger has been a necessary survival skill. As a senior struggling with my share of health issues and as primary caregiver for my husband when he needs care, I know that aging in Colorado in Trump’s America requires me to be more vigilant than ever—and we are in danger, friends.

While Weiser and Bennet are not miles apart in their positions on some key policies, and voters might argue the fine points of policy differences, two sections of the debate spoke volumes to me about credibility and being seen as a voter smart enough to see through a ruse.

Phil Weiser seems to want people like me to be part of his political work—his public service—and he believes I am intelligent enough to know when the BS factor is out of control.

Michael Bennet is a fine orator. His years in the Senate have allowed him great practice for that skill. I’ve never found that his diatribes on the Senate floor in DC (as covered by his campaign and sometimes local media outlets) helped me or even slowed down the relentless American-dream-crushing march of the current federal government’s behavior. I’m afraid to lose my Medicare or my Social Security mostly because I don’t want to burden my children or grandchildren. Those programs are federal, not state.

Bennet chastised Weiser for not fighting the first Trump administration enough from his state position even though Bennet has supported many Trump nominees and even some policies. He said he did so because of the existential threats Colorado faces in areas those Trump nominees control and areas in which we need federal funds. Really? So, as Bennet proclaimed, the easiest vote in America is one against Trump, I thought to myself—what the hell exactly does that mean? It tells me that I cannot trust Bennet to do his job right now as the people of this state depend on him to do, and if I cannot trust he will protect this democracy or my earned benefits of Social Security and Medicare—and that he will do everything in his power to oppose blackmailing bullies—I cannot trust him to be Colorado’s governor.

In contrast, Weiser said he would never bow to that sort of Trump-style political gamesmanship with someone threatening our rights and our economic safety as a state. Perhaps that is Weiser’s personal history as the son of Holocaust survivors, and yet, it must also be the stance of those of us who believe in the Constitution of this nation and this state. Cooperating with an administration that devalues my life and lives of anyone in our human family is unacceptable, and it is not leadership. Appeasing a despot who finds joy and power in his cruelty has never worked and never will. Trump must be opposed at every turn.

No, Sen. Bennet, it isn’t so hard. Do all you can from where you are now—fight in your current position for which you are paid by us. If young people are angry about the Dems, it’s because they do not see the fight back or even the direct challenges to almost everything we fought to secure on the federal level. Stopping the forward march of Project 2025 comes before building new ways to confront our shared futures. Where were you, Sen. Bennet? Yelling and smooth orating doesn’t save anything or prove your worthiness to lead on the state level. Our erudite rants make for great sound bites, though.

My second point of recognizing deception was in Michael Bennet’s assertion that he hasn’t even thought about who he’s going to appoint (if he is elected our next governor) to fill the rest of his Senate term. It’s silly to expect anyone to believe that. While he said it would be someone under 50 years old, he wants you and me to believe he really hasn’t thought about it at all. Come on. He went on to say he hasn’t had any conversations at all here in Colorado about his favored appointee. Did you read that carefully? I’m sure the conversations he has had haven’t actually been in Colorado. He hasn’t spent that much time here, I don’t think. Access to him is very tightly controlled, and letters from Coloradans are answered with form responses. His life centers on DC, and his “conversations” about his Senate replacement likely were there with US House reps from Colorado or in New York with Michael Bloomberg (one of his most generous donors).

So, bottom line for me is that Phil Weiser seems to want people like me to be part of his political work—his public service—and he believes I am intelligent enough to know when the BS factor is out of control. I don’t want my governor to appease Trump or anyone else who harms us all in the manner of a mob boss or dictator, and I want to know who Bennet favors appointing to his Senate seat, if it’s vacated. Those things matter as we face the future together.

Phil Weiser stood firm on his answers and invited more collaboration. I believe he will make a fine governor for Colorado—for all of us. And a vote for Phil Weiser doesn’t have any mystery attached. Strong and unwilling to honey up to bullies, clear about policy, and ready to fight back and move forward—that’s our AG Phil Weiser. This time in our history demands that and more from us all, not just the people we elect. When politicians play us for fools, we can all rise to this moment and make sure history records our courage, our decency, and our sacred honor shown to one another.

In a famous fable a group of mice discuss the catastrophic death toll from the local cat. One mouse has an epiphany—“We simply have to put a collar with a bell on the cat, and we’ll be warned every time she draws near.” The mice erupt in celebration. But suddenly one doleful rodent interrupts the celebrants with a shy question: "Who’s going to bell the cat?"

As an avid reader of lefty alternative media essays, I would venture that “bell the cat” polemics have become a prominent strategy employed by far too many writers. We bell cats in our daydreams, and then write about it with a triumphant brushing of the hands. How many pieces have we all read that call for removing President Donald Trump via the 25th Amendment?

I, personally, am easily convinced that Donald J Trump is... uh... unfit. His twitchy little evil finger on the so-called nuclear button defines a new plateau of dystopian absurdity that no past writer of dark fiction could have ever imagined. Do we need to clarify just how close to the stroke of doomsday this vapid monster brings us daily? His genocidal intent; his criminal impulses; his senseless drivel; his delusional narcissism; his racism; his sexism; and his urge to brag, attack, and threaten ought to make him a prime candidate for a golden sunset behind bars.

Most of the calls for the 25th Amendment rather coalesce around the aesthetics of Trump’s alleged mental decline—his malapropisms; his stumbling gait; his ridiculous boasting about “acing” a dementia screening exam; his late-night posting binges of misspelled, all-caps incoherent rage; his nodding off to sleep in meetings; and the sheer sight of his grotesque, sneering, confused, melting jowls seem to be enough of an argument.

In the Numbed States of America we have gravely limited capacity to respond to extinction threats. Some atavistic fantasy of reprieve keeps people mutely indoors.

Some calls for the 25th Amendment solution merely focus on Trump’s dwindling physical health—his mysterious hospital visits; his bruises; his enormously swollen ankles; his tiny eye slits peering in a senile, comatose manner from the drooping folds of a face that precariously hovers somewhere between a living visage and a death mask.

It seems odd, however, to argue that Trump ought to be seen as a broken shell of a man, eaten from the inside by diseases associated with aging. Do we really want him removed from office because of illness, or because he has spearheaded an assault against the environment, a new age of unregulated capitalist plunder, a total commitment to eviscerate human rights, and the intent to wage war as a matter of reflexive masculinist expression? Where have US bombs fallen, and where will they imminently rain down on hapless civilians?

Are Mogadishu and Copenhagen on the list? Havana? Have we blown Cuba up yet, or is that just a coming attraction scheduled for August or November? Donald J Trump’s trembling, tiny phallic finger nuzzling the button of eternal extinction seems like a surefire image to summon massive levels of public panic, to send hysterical crowds into the streets as if the Chicxulub Meteor had been scheduled for an encore. But in the Numbed States of America we have gravely limited capacity to respond to extinction threats. Some atavistic fantasy of reprieve keeps people mutely indoors. We have guardrails, constitutional guarantees—like the oft mentioned 25th Amendment. Why go crazy in an existential panic, when the Constitution has our back?

The 25th Amendment is not some hoary remnant of our overly esteemed Founding Fathers. No such Revolutionary War icons stared wisely into the crystal ball of future contingencies, and asked the question, “What do we do when a batshit lunatic captures the presidency?” No, the Founding Fathers had not imagined a president as being anything other than a generic advocate for the interests of the wealthy—a role that carried an implicit assumption of sanity in their constitutional eyes. The 25th Amendment was passed by congress in 1965, and ratified in 1967, perhaps inspired by the unraveling, warmongering man of the moment, Lyndon Baines Johnson. But more likely, the amendment shuffled itself into the Constitution as a matter of legislative busywork, a footnote barely acknowledged at the time. The 25th gives some clarity as to when the vice president steps into a presidential role, usually for a day or two when a presidential colonoscopy creates a window of momentary confusion. Congress voted on the amendment only two years after JFK’s assassination—fearful politicians had, one imagines, a lurking sense of unpredictable events.

The 25th Amendment, however, also creates a new protocol for the permanent removal of an unfit president—the vice-president along with the members of the Cabinet must vote to toss the leader out of office with a simple majority. From there, the decision to remove an unfit president passes to both houses of Congress where a two-thirds majority of each chamber must vote to remove the spiraling executive. In other words (at least in Trump’s case), a collection of morally deformed misfits must pool their distaste for the unravelling psychopath who appointed them. And then a collection of party sycophants must rise up against the leader who fills their trembling hearts with utter terror.

Maybe you believe that Trump should be removed because he is: 1) corrupt, 2) demented, 3) insane, 4) stupid, and 5) evil. Obviously, while all of these allegations rest on mountains of evidence; none of it resonates with a single cabinet member. The 25th Amendment is not a public plebiscite. You and I might easily agree that tearing up the White House to build a ballroom-bomb-shelter for a nuclear fetishizing war criminal might be an awful idea. But so what? The 25th Amendment is a private matter, a means of protection for the ruling class. If a president goes cuckoo for coco-puffs, the oligarchs can set things right. One might aptly assume that none of Trump’s shenanigans trouble the billionaire class.

So you and I do not get a vote according to 25th Amendment protocol. Here is an abbreviated list of those authorized to vote: 1) RFK Jr., 2) Linda McMahon, 3) Howard Lutnick, 4) Doug Burgum, 5) Chris Wright, 6) Pete Hegseth, 7) Marco Rubio... and so forth. If you believe that any of these names might vote to remove Trump, I suggest that you hurry (if you still have medical insurance) to take The Montreal Cognitive Assessment.

Trump is not in office despite being out of his fucking mind—he occupies the seat of supreme power precisely because he is off the charts berserk. The only people who matter in the Crumbling States of America make bank on Trump’s presidency. The oil executives, nuclear weapons manufacturers, planet destroying Big Tech moguls, insurance profiteers, and chemical poisoners are carving up the Earth like famished vultures alighting on a putrid carcass. If these predators don’t care about Trump’s decaying brain, it really doesn’t matter what you and I believe.

There is a means of removal—a real one, not a self-indulgent fantasy. It is called The 3.5% Rule, a theory that argues that regime change requires massive resistance involving 3.5% of the population taking to the streets until a resolution has been reached. It involves daily mobilization, not a two hour street festival every two months. In the US that means at least 11 million angry, undeterred resistors willing to endure a measure of personal inconvenience. It involves blocking traffic, getting arrested, boycotts, strikes, and international connections. We should be calling for foreign nationals to boycott and divest from US corporations. Or we can day dream about the 25th Amendment until Trump dies and hands over the throne to JD Vance.

As a general theme, we US citizens have far too much faith in alleged democratic process, and far too little passion for collective agency.

The US empire is in decline. Compare it today to where it was only 30 years ago, following the collapse of the Soviet Union. It was a “hyperpower,” then, almost inconceivably dominant with no challengers on Earth.

Since then, China has surpassed the US economically. Russia is rated No.1 militarily. The US has to borrow close to $2+ trillion per year (the annual federal budget deficit) just to keep the lights on. Its government based on checks and balances is under assault by a sleazy felon who wants to be king. It is wracked by social divisions that presage civil war.

President Donald Trump’s proposed solution to these problems is to shoot our way out. He wants a 50% increase over last year’s Pentagon budget, to $1.5 trillion. It is stupid in the measure to which it is excessive. It is suicidal to the extent it will degrade our security and our chances of improving national prosperity.

A wiser policy would be to rethink how the US is to co-exist with other nations in what is emerging as a multipolar world. That’s a big rethink. There’s another rethink coming as well: how we run the economy and what it is that actually accounts for national well-being.

The era when the US could dominate, intimidate, and expropriate the rest of the world is over. If it continues to push military power as its primary path forward it will continue to produce catastrophe.

Neither of these “rethinkings”—neither security nor the economy—will be easy. Both will go against existing failed doctrines and the powerful interests that back them. But, without doing this, we face the certainty of continuing national decline.

The highest-level rationale for rejecting a 50% increase in the Pentagon’s budget is that the military simply doesn’t win wars. Sure, it can knock off defenseless, pipsqueak principalities like Grenada, or Serbia, or Libya. But whenever it goes up against a committed adversary, especially one that fights back, it loses.

It lost in Vietnam to a nation of rice farmers that hadn’t even entered the industrial age. It killed more than 3 million Vietnamese, 4 million Southeast Asians when you count Laos and Cambodia. Yet, it lost.

It lost in Iraq, despite Iraq having been bombed for the prior decade, since the first Gulf War in 1991. Even in losing, the US killed more than a million Iraqis and spawned ISIS, one of the most virulent terrorist organizations ever let loose on the world.

It lost in Afghanistan, despite 20 years of trying to win. Afghanistan was a fourth-world country, with the Taliban literally living in caves. The Taliban had only hand-held firearms. No air force. No artillery. No satellite intelligence. The US still managed to lose.

Ukraine isn’t over, yet, but it is lost. Russia has crushed every one of the fabled “wonder weapons” the US has thrown at it. Remember when Trump was going to end the Ukraine war “on Day One”? We’re now past Day 500. It hasn’t ended because Trump is too weak to take the Loss on his watch. But it is lost.

Iran is the most recent—and damaging—case of catastrophic US military failure. It has a military budget one-one hundredth that of the US. Yet, Iran has “humiliated” the US, at least in the words of German Chancellor, Friedrich Merz. Neocon heavyweight Robert Kagan recently wrote, “It’s hard to think of a time when the United States suffered a total defeat in a conflict, a setback so decisive that the strategic loss could be neither repaired nor ignored.”

None of these outcomes are equivocal. None are ambiguous. Is that the kind of outfit we want to give a 50% raise to when it can never come close to accomplishing its essential mission? And when it never learns from its repeated failures?

This is one of the major rethinks that will have to be conducted before any thought can be given to giving even one extra dollar to the Pentagon. We need to hear from the leadership what, exactly, is going to change. And we don’t mean fiddling at the margins. We mean at the core of the institution. For example…

US weapons systems are not made to be able to win in battle. They are made to deliver maximum profits to the weapons makers. Consider…

The Patriot missile system is easily baited with low-cost drones into giving away its location and radar signature. “Here I am! Here I am!” It is then a sitting duck for cruise missiles, hypersonic missiles, even swarms of the same low-cost drones.

The HIMARS rocket launcher uses common GPS as part of its guidance system. This is easily jammed resulting in missiles sometimes landing kilometers away from their intended targets. Its greatest value might be that every battery reliably drains $20 million from US taxpayers.

The M-1 Abrams tank wears a gigantic “shoot me” sign as soon as it’s spotted by one of the Russian drones that saturate the skies over Ukraine. The phrase “Fish in a barrel” comes to mind.

The bigger problem—bigger than weapons that don’t work—is that the US economy is not set up to support sustained, high intensity warfare. It gave up that capability decades ago, when it decided to de-industrialize so its companies could make more money building their stuff in China.

This is one of the reasons the US, via its proxy, Ukraine, has not been able to defeat Russia: it simply cannot supply the amount of ammunition Ukraine would need to prevail. Russia is firing 5-10 times the amount of artillery Ukraine is, and there’s literally nothing the US can do about it.

It would take decades to rebuild the weapons-focused industrial capacity the US possessed in the 1960s. Given the failure of the larger military enterprise in the US, there is no certainty that, once delivered, it would not be ill-conceived, misdirected, or already obsolete. In fact, given the Pentagon’s track record, the likelihood is that it would be all three.

The deepest problem for the US in grappling with increased Pentagon funding is rooted in its world view.

That was formed in the aftermath of World War II and reinforced following the collapse of the Soviet Union, in 1991. After both events, the US stood astride the world like a colossus, unchallenged in its ability to destroy any other country. Heady stuff but the world doesn’t sit still.

Countries do not acquiesce in their own destruction. They organize themselves to fight back; they collaborate with other countries for collective self-defense; and they employ asymmetric strategies to defeat predators, as Vietnam and Afghanistan did, and as Iran has just done. The US military hasn’t gotten the memo.

The unprovoked Iran debacle has boosted the fortunes of Russia and China, the US’ principal rivals. It has elevated Iran to being the hegemon in the Persian Gulf. That rise is abetted by a quartet of Islamic powers that are tired of US and Israeli bullying: Pakistan, Turkey, Egypt, and Saudi Arabia. They are forming an “Islamic NATO” to keep the US and Israel out of the Gulf. This is super important.

Since World War II, the Middle East has been one of the most important regions in the world because of its vast oil wealth. A 1945 US State Department memo stated that “Arab oil resources constitute a stupendous source of strategic power and one of the greatest material prizes in world history.”

It is the Trump Pentagon, the Pete Hegseth Pentagon, that has destroyed the US’ control of that “greatest material prize in world history.” Actually, it’s even worse than that. By forcing 50% higher oil prices on the rest of the world, the US is draining wealth from every country on Earth. Many of those countries were already economically tenuous. There’s not a one that doesn’t despise the US for the extortion.

Is that an organization to which we want to grant an additional half a trillion dollars a year? Every year? So it can wreak more destruction on US fortunes? Before it rethinks itself and how it can contribute responsibly to US well-being in the world? It’s not even fatuous. It’s insane.

So, if a $1.5 trillion budget for the military is not the solution to the US woes, what is?

The US could more plausibly revive its fortunes in the world by investing the would-be increase in Pentagon spending into the civilian economy, instead.

It should invest in the nation’s people—education—so as to improve the economy’s productivity. It should invest in the nation’s infrastructure to increase the economy’s efficiency. It should invest in scientific research and development to boost innovation. And, it should re-invest in alternative energy to build resilience.

Productivity. Efficiency. Innovation. Resilience. Those are what built the US in the 20th century. They are the real foundations of national well-being. None of them are mysteries as far as how they lead to a better economy and a stronger state. None are conceptually hard to carry out.

Donald Trump is doing exactly the opposite.

He is gutting education, rescinding major infrastructure projects, savaging scientific research, and in all ways possible dismantling alternative energy. Those avenues all go against the essence of Trumpism, which is looting, shifting national resources and wealth to the already wealthy—Trump’s base.

Looting is what Trump’s proposed increase in the Pentagon budget is really all about. It is the Mother of All Trump Grifts. It is 277 times larger than his laughable $1.8 billion Slush Fund. It wants to hide the grift under the quasi-sacrosanct cover of military spending.

But it doesn’t begin to even acknowledge, to say nothing of fix, the deep failings in the military. It actively damages the economy by diverting scarce resources to parasitic looting that inflicts more harm than it heals.

Trump’s proposal improves the fortunes of the already very wealthy, as all things from Trump do. It lards them with $500 billion of unaccountable giveaways every year. It is a payoff to his rich backers and to the military Trump thinks he’s going to need to finish his overthrow of the government when the time comes, in 2028.

The era when the US could dominate, intimidate, and expropriate the rest of the world is over. If it continues to push military power as its primary path forward it will continue to produce catastrophes like Vietnam, Iraq, Afghanistan, Ukraine, and Iran, all of which have degraded US power, influence, and standing in the world.

Alternatively, it can invest in the economy, in the American people, to create higher growth, income, equality, resilience, and prosperity. Instead of trying to shoot our way out of our self-inflicted decline, we can try to think our way out, earn our way out, work our way out. It’s not certain. Nothing ever is. But it has so much more dignity and likelihood of success about it.

Back when the Obama administration was negotiating a nuclear agreement with Iran, I asked National Security Council officials, “Why are you expending all of your economic leverage, and political and diplomatic resources on stopping Iran from developing a bomb they don’t have (and even if they did, could never use), while these same resources could be mobilized to pressure Iran to end its meddlesome behaviors that are destabilizing countries across the region?”

Despite this reservation, when the Joint Comprehensive Plan of Action was announced, I supported it for three reasons. First, “the nuclear deal” was a negotiated settlement, which is always better than conflict. And despite White House spokespeople saying otherwise, Catherine Ashton, a top British diplomat involved in the negotiations, offered assurances that the deal was only a first step and that Iran’s behaviors would be next on the agenda. My hope was that sane minds would prevail and the initiated process might lead to a regional security compact and framework for peace.

The second reason was the way Republicans were working overtime to sabotage the agreement. It was unconscionable that they invited a foreign leader, Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu, to address a joint session of Congress to urge members of Congress to vote against their own president. That was unacceptable interference in US politics.

The third (and maybe most unexpected) reason was the reaction to the JCPOA inside Iran. In a poll we conducted months after the deal was announced, we found a significant change in Iranian public opinion. Our earlier polls had demonstrated Iranians largely in favor of the regime’s spending money on allies in Lebanon, Syria, Iraq, and Yemen. With the hint of peace, Iranians turned their priorities inward, with declining support for the regime’s foreign involvements. Instead of resources going abroad, Iranians wanted them to be used at home to create employment and opportunity. They also elevated their demands for greater personal freedom and political rights.

A decade after the JCPOA, the Middle East and the Gulf region are in a more precarious place than ever.

When, after Donald Trump’s election, he cancelled the Iran deal and began threatening the regime, we repeated the poll. The results had reverted. When citizens feel their country is being threatened, they tend to be less critical or to “rally around the flag.”

In the ensuing years, amid continuing signs of hostility from all sides—US, Israel, and Iran—the situation has shown no promise of improvement. Despite promising a better agreement, Trump did nothing more than deepen the animosity. The Biden administration was handed the thankless task of bringing a dead deal back to life—a task to which they never appeared to be fully committed. For its part, Iran continued to behave as a bad regional actor, all the while making threats and building its military capabilities.

Left on their own, the Arab Gulf states sought to create stability out of the possibility of chaos with which they were forced to contend. Unlike Iran, which had decided to use its wealth to export its influence and its anti-Western ideology, the Arab Gulf states had taken a different path, focusing on development, tourism, and trade. Their continued prosperity required a stable regional environment. And so, amid the tensions between the US and Israel and Iran, these Arab states made diplomatic and economic overtures to Iran, hoping for a more secure environment in the Gulf. They even hoped that the lure of joint prosperity and security might move the Iranians to join them in pursuing a more stable and prosperous future and convince the Israelis to resolve the longstanding wound of Palestinian dispossession and occupation, fostering conditions for regional peace. There was to be no such luck!

Israel wanted the economic benefits of regional peace but was unwilling to play its part. It intensified its occupation and the repression and strangulation of Palestinians. Then came October 7, and the region exploded. In short order, as Israel was pursuing a genocidal war in Gaza, Iran’s ally in Lebanon became engaged in a fateful and costly exchange with Israel in the north, a miscalculation with devastating consequences. The Israelis launched a deadly bombing campaign killing thousands of Lebanese, including Hezbollah’s leader. Months later, Israel and the US attacked Iran and killed Iran’s spiritual leader. Iran returned fire setting off a broader confrontation.

Negotiations produced what were called “cease fires” during which Palestinian and Lebanese death tolls continued to mount. When, egged on by Israel and Republican neocons, President Trump decided to “finish the job” by defeating the Iranian regime, the conflict took on a new character. Iran intensified its attacks on neighboring Arab Gulf states that housed US bases and closed the Straits of Hormuz, cutting off 20% of the world’s oil and gas supplies and negatively impacting the Gulf region’s economies.

Reading some of the Israeli, Arab, and US press is enough to make one pull out one’s hair. Some Israeli commentators from the far-right (and their American neocon acolytes) remain convinced that all that’s needed is another massive bombing campaign, coupled with yet a few more “targeted assassinations”—as if those tactics, which Israel has used repeatedly, will be any more successful than they’ve been in the past.

Meanwhile, hard-line Arab opinion writers celebrate the “brilliance” of Iranian tactics. It’s hard to see how incurring the enmity of their neighbors and putting their own and the region’s economic futures at risk can be construed as anything but reckless.

The US media is even more confounding, with its apparent addiction to breathlessly and uncritically following the barrage of confusing and contradictory posts coming from the president.

And so, a decade after the JCPOA, the Middle East and the Gulf region are in a more precarious place than ever. Although the situation is far more complicated than a decade ago, and the enmity on all sides so much deeper, the way forward is recognition that piecemeal approaches to the region, playing whack-a-mole, have only made the region less secure.

As difficult as it may be to imagine it now, what will be required is to work toward a regional security framework built on non-aggression, non-interference, and respect for the sovereignty of all states, and an end to the Israeli occupation and denial of Palestinian rights. This entails the recognition that there are no military solutions to the region’s political issues. In fact, each round of violence only exacerbates existing problems. It’s a tall order requiring leadership that is smart, courageous, and visionary. That may not exist today, but it’s necessary—and it’s the goal toward which we must direct our efforts.

It probably is not a surprise to most people outside the Trump administration, but it looks like their mass deportation has not done much to help the native-born workforce. The unemployment rate for native-born workers in May was 4.2%. That’s up from 4.1% last May, and 3.8% in May of 2024, when Joe Biden was in the White House, and immigrants were taking all the jobs.

This outcome shouldn’t be a big surprise to people who have given the issue much thought. Most of the jobs that immigrants do are not ones that native-born workers are lining up for. Few people born in this country want to work on farms picking lettuce or tomatoes or in meat-processing plants. It’s the same story with low-paying jobs such as home health care aides or custodians.

It was Trumpian silly to think that mass deportation of immigrants was going to lead to a huge wave of jobs for native born workers. In fact, as much research has shown, immigrant workers tend to act as complements to native-born workers, not substitutes.

This is perhaps most clearly seen in the construction industry, where close to 30% of the workforce are immigrants. The availability of lower-cost immigrant labor allows many projects to go forward that would not otherwise. In this way, it is a net job gainer for native-born workers. This is likely true in many other areas as well.

To be clear, this doesn’t mean that immigrants never lower the wages of native-born workers. There are likely cases where workers on H1-B visas have reduced the wages of workers in some occupations, even if the effect of the program in general may still be positive. I am also confident that if we eased the immigration barriers to foreign-trained doctors, the pay of our doctors would not still be twice as high as in other wealthy countries, thereby lowering healthcare costs.

Also, negative impacts may not be reversible. There is now solid evidence that opening trade to China cost the US millions of manufacturing jobs. That doesn’t mean that putting up tariffs will bring the jobs back. Half a century ago, the meat-packing industry had many good-paying union jobs that were later taken by low-paid immigrants. Chasing away immigrants now will not bring those good-paying jobs back.

Anyhow, the results to date are clear. Trump’s mass deportation has not led to any sort of windfall for native-born workers. As the Trumpers say, “Trump was wrong about everything.”

Amid a rapid escalation between Israel and Iran, Yemen’s Houthis have rejoined the Iran war, launching a volley of missiles at Israel and pledging to implement a “complete and total ban” of Israeli shipping in the Red Sea. It’s safe to say that the tenuous ceasefire in the Middle East is now unraveling.

President Donald Trump demanded that all parties deescalate, writing on Truth Social Monday morning that “Final negotiations on ‘Peace’ are proceeding” so long as “ignorance or stupidity” don’t get in their way. But the latest developments suggest that the United States has limited control over the path of the conflict, which is now entering its fourth month.

After Iran struck Israel on Sunday in what Tehran described as retaliation for Israeli ceasefire violations in Lebanon, Trump publicly urged Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu to stand by and wait for negotiations to bear fruit. “I call the shots,” Trump told the Financial Times. “Netanyahu doesn’t call the shots.”

Just a few hours later, Israel launched strikes across Iran, hitting what it called “strategic defense systems.” Iranian officials said Israel also hit a petrochemical plant in southwestern Iran.

The rapid return to war is a stark reminder that, while the US chose how to start this conflict, it has only one vote on how to end it. Israel has shown little interest in bringing the war to a close, and many influential pro-Israel voices in the US argue that Trump must “finish the job” and overthrow the Iranian government. And, while Iran has made clear that Lebanon must be part of any ceasefire, Israeli officials remain determined to keep up the fight against Hezbollah, including through large-scale attacks on Beirut.

Trump’s public demands that Israel deescalate suggest that the US is trying to create at least some public separation between its actions and Israel’s. But Iran is weary from years of staccato conflict with Israel and determined to make the most of the leverage it has gained by blockading the Strait of Hormuz.

In practice, this means Tehran is no longer willing to distinguish between US and Israeli attacks. “No one believes the Zionist regime acts without coordination with the United States,” a spokesperson for Iran’s foreign ministry said Monday.

Still, Iran has so far avoided launching new attacks on US assets in the Middle East. This relative restraint may be due to Tehran’s desire to maintain options for future escalation. Another possible explanation is that Iran believes recent reports indicating that Trump has privately said he won’t return to war unless Tehran kills more US soldiers.

The reentry of the Houthis into the war throws an uncertain variable into these calculations. The group earned sympathy throughout the Middle East for its attacks on Israel in retaliation for alleged Israeli war crimes in Gaza. With Israeli forces bogged down on multiple fronts, the Houthis now seemingly see another opportunity to increase their legitimacy and pursue their long-standing goal of confronting Israel.

If the Houthis follow through on their threats to block Israeli shipping, then the Trump administration will face significant pressure to help Israel reopen the key strategic waterway, which is now a crucial pathway for exporting Persian Gulf oil from Arab states because of the Hormuz closure. But even the US military has shown a limited ability to force the Houthis to stand down, despite the best efforts of both the Biden and Trump administrations in recent years.

It will take time to determine the exact impact of the Houthi threats to Israeli shipping. Previous Houthi attempts to partially blockade the Red Sea have already forced many shipping companies to reroute around Africa rather than traveling through the Suez Canal. While the Houthis have generally claimed to target only Israeli ships, the group has used a broad definition to define what counts as Israeli, making it difficult for companies to determine whether they are free to pass.

Meanwhile, Iran is signaling that it wants to stop the latest round of escalation with Israel, saying in a statement Monday that it will stop its attacks so long as Israeli forces halt strikes in Lebanon. The message is clear: if Trump wants a deal with Iran, then he’ll have to restrain Israel first.

If you have ever had the opportunity to visit the Normandy American Cemetery in Colleville-sur-Mer, France it is something that stays with you. The rows of white gravestones silhouetted against green grass and blue sky bear silent and eloquent witness to what happened on June 6, 1944. The cemetery contains the graves of 9,389 of Americans, most of whom lost their lives in the D-Day landings and the battles in France in 1944.

From the cemetery, you can see down to Omaha Beach the bloodiest part of the D-Day battlefield. While estimates vary, 2,400 to 3,600 total American casualties (including killed, wounded, and missing) occurred on Omaha Beach on D-Day, June 6, 1944. For me, the most moving part of the Cemetery is the Walls of the Missing where inscribed 1,557 names of the soldiers and sailors who were missing in action and have never had their bodies recovered.

For decades, American politicians have been visiting the Normandy Beaches to pay tribute to all the Americans and Allies (primarily British and Canadian) who fought on June 6, 1944. Particularly well-known is the speech that President Ronald Reagan made in June of 1984:

The men of Normandy had faith that what they were doing was right, faith that they fought for all humanity, faith that a just God would grant them mercy on this beachhead or on the next. It was the deep knowledge—and pray God we have not lost it—that there is a profound, moral difference between the use of force for liberation and the use of force for conquest. You were here to liberate, not to conquer, and so you and those others did not doubt your cause. And you were right not to doubt. You all knew that some things are worth dying for.

For an American politician, remarks at the Normandy beaches ought to be simple and straightforward. All you have to do is pay tribute as best you can to the extraordinary sacrifice made on June 6, 1944. As hard as it is to believe, US Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth failed this simple task. Rather than just pay tribute to the efforts of those who “hit the beach” on June 6, 1944, Hegseth launched into an anti-immigrant and far-right rant. As the New York Times reported:

In his remarks, Mr. Hegseth said that “freedom is not free” and especially praised the role played by American troops, but said that over the past eight or so decades, some European countries had grown “comfortable.” “Today, different European beaches are stormed by different dangerous ideologies,” he said. “Boats and men arrive. When will European capitals do something about that invasion? Or is it too late?”

I am sure it escaped Hegseth the fact that many of the Americans he heralds for their sacrifice were the sons of immigrants to the United States. To compare refugees coming to Europe fleeing war and economic oppression with Nazi tyranny defies belief.

It is not surprising that Hegseth cannot identify with the men who fought on D-Day. They were not the much hyped “war fighters” ignoring politically correct rules of engagement that Hegseth celebrates. Instead, they were ordinary men doing extraordinary things to defeat the most terrible tyranny the world has ever seen. History will remember the deeds of those who defeated Nazi tyranny, while Hegseth's far-right rhetoric will be nothing more than a footnote to a sad chapter in American history.

Every week in our law school eviction court clinic, we see parents hustling from their workplaces, still wearing fast food and home healthcare uniforms, hoping to push back the day when they and their kids will be sleeping in their car. We see seniors and persons living with disabilities on the verge of eviction because they had to spend their rent money filling prescriptions. We see some of the 43 million people in the US who are living with hunger.

Every person suffering like this is a rebuke to the core promise of the Declaration of Independence. We should commemorate the Declaration’s 250th anniversary with a renewed commitment to the pursuit of happiness, which means our government fulfilling basic economic needs.

From the very first moment of its existence, the United States embraced economic rights. The Declaration of Independence’s second paragraph commits our government to protecting the pursuit of happiness as an unalienable right. The founders, as flawed as they were, knew that this promise included ensuring that basic needs are met.

“Not a Charity but a Right”—The Founders and Government’s Role in Ending Poverty

The Declaration’s main author, Thomas Jefferson, lamented the democracy-undermining existence of poverty. Natural rights are violated, Jefferson wrote, when some residents struggle and others prosper. So he insisted that the government has a duty to act to remedy the injustice, including through aggressively progressive taxation.

Freedom and democracy cannot exist without first meeting the rights to basic human needs.

Other founders agreed. Alexander Hamilton explained that the General Welfare Clause in Article I, Section 8 of the US Constitution (“The Congress shall have Power to lay and collect taxes... to provide for the General Welfare of the United States”) creates a government that addresses unmet economic needs. Hamilton’s fellow Constitution framer James Madison called for the new nation to enact laws that would “reduce extreme wealth toward a state of mediocrity, raise extreme indigence toward a state of comfort.”

For 18th century politicians, this type of government intervention was not hypothetical. Colonial governments instituted price controls on food and aggressively regulated gristmills to keep the cost of bread affordable for all.

The founder with the most pronounced vision of economic rights was Thomas Paine, author of the seismic pamphlet Common Sense and a driving force behind the American Revolution and the new government it birthed. Paine called for the redistribution of wealth via progressive taxation and for direct government anti-poverty interventions like old-age pensions, support for families with young children, full employment, and a basic income. “It is not charity but a right—not bounty but justice that I am pleading for,” he said.

The Meaning of the “Pursuit of Happiness”

Beyond the founders’ own words, it is clear from historical context that a 1776 commitment to protecting the unalienable right to the “pursuit of happiness” includes ensuring that subsistence needs are met. Law professor and dean Linda Keller’s comprehensive review of political thought and contemporary use of this critical phrase during the 18th century led her to conclude that basic economic rights are deeply rooted in the nation’s foundation.

“Its inclusion was not merely a rhetorical flourish, but rather the pursuit of happiness established an ‘unalienable right’ that includes an economic dimension,” Keller writes. “In particular, there are minimum needs that must be met in order to pursue happiness, for instance food, shelter, and clothing. Thus the government must provide the conditions to enable individuals to pursue happiness.”

Over the decades, other scholars have agreed. “The Declaration of Independence manifests a government’s affirmative role in protecting rights,” writes law professor Bert Lockwood. “Both the plain and ordinary meaning of happiness and its common usage in the 18th century indicate that the notion of happiness cannot be entirely separated from material well-being. Access to the minimal necessities of life, such as shelter or basic medical care, is thus an indispensable prerequisite to the notion of happiness.”

Charles Black, the longtime Yale Law professor and civil rights advocate who helped argue the legendary desegregation case Brown v. Board of Education, said the point was obvious. “The possession of a decent material basis for life is an indispensable condition, for almost all people at all times, to the pursuit of happiness,” Black wrote. “The right to pursuit of happiness is going to be for all but a small minority of those in poverty, a pale sardonically grinning ghost of a right.”

“Necessitous Men are not Free Men”

US leaders since the founders have underscored this same point: Freedom and democracy cannot exist without first meeting the rights to basic human needs.

“Necessitous men are not free men,” Franklin Roosevelt announced as the foundation of his proposal for a Second Bill of Rights ensuring access to housing, healthcare, and living wages.

US voters have consistently expressed concern over our rampant wealth inequality, supported a government jobs guarantee, and called for recognizing housing and healthcare as government-enforced human rights.

Soon after, the international community heeded Roosevelt’s call. Virtually every nation has ratified the International Covenant on Economic, Social, and Cultural Rights, which enshrines into law the rights to housing, healthcare, and living wage incomes.

Yet the US has not ratified the treaty known as the ICESCR. Not coincidentally, every wealthy nation that has ratified does far better than the US in protecting the pursuit of happiness. Those nations have comprehensive and successful programs ensuring housing, healthcare, and adequate incomes for their residents. In those countries, the grim eviction court scenes we witness every week are almost unheard of.

We can do better, too. US voters have consistently expressed concern over our rampant wealth inequality, supported a government jobs guarantee, and called for recognizing housing and healthcare as government-enforced human rights.

These rights are necessary for the pursuit of happiness. The founders knew it, and so do we. Along with fireworks and picnics, let’s celebrate the 250th by finally fulfilling the real promise of the Declaration of Independence.

The US labor movement, like the nation at large, stands at a crossroads. The next few years might well determine whether the United States fully descends into an era of electoral autocracy, where democracy has withered and authoritarianism becomes the political norm. This period is also likely to set the future trajectory of the union movement’s power and influence, as the state of democracy and organized labor have long been deeply intertwined.

For decades, the right-wing forces set on steadily eroding our democracy have worked in tandem with a pro-corporate movement that has increasingly marginalized organized labor, creating a ballooning crisis for the working class. Yet this politically hazardous moment also represents an opportunity to overcome deep-seated institutional inertia, drawing elements of a cautious labor movement out of their defensive crouch, and helping unions devise forms of struggle that might both revive the labor movement and renew American democracy.

President Donald Trump’s second term has, in a way, broken a spell. For years, the pre-Trump status quo kept labor locked in a pattern of slow decline even as democracy was increasingly stifled and abridged by voter suppression, gerrymandering, filibusters, and the overweening power of organized money. But the decades-old dysfunctional status quo that gave rise to Trumpism is now crumbling under the weight of the most lawless, antidemocratic, rights-trampling administration this country has seen since the 19th century.

History suggests that fighting to defend and revive democracy in its moment of maximum peril can create a window of opportunity for labor. Past experience—in the United States and other nations—teaches us that, when unions fight to defend democracy and win, they position themselves for periods of explosive growth and increased worker power. It is imperative that the US labor movement grasp this lesson and seize the window of opportunity before it’s too late.

Moving Beyond Magical Thinking

It’s clear that the crisis facing US democracy is deepening. Over the past year, immigrants and the neighbors and coworkers who stood in solidarity with them endured murderous paramilitary occupations in Minneapolis, Chicago, and other cities across the country. The nation has been plunged into war in Iran without prior input from Congress. The president has even suggested the federal government should seize control of the upcoming midterm elections from the states.

This all comes on top of the Supreme Court’s relentless assault on workers’ rights and a worsening affordability crisis that has undermined the stability of working-class families, leading them to wonder whether the system is irretrievably broken.

As important as the coming elections are, unions should firmly reject the comforting delusion that they can recover through the ballot box what power they’ve lost in the workplace.

While our democracy’s crisis deepens, the national labor movement has yet to play a leading role in the resistance against ascendant authoritarianism. By seizing the opportunity to play such a role in the year ahead, labor has the opportunity to reverse its decades-long slide toward irrelevancy by taking up an indispensable role in preserving, expanding, and deepening rights-based democracy.

By fighting to reconstruct our democracy in the face of the mortal threat it now faces, labor could transform itself from a fading force—whose structure and outlook still bear the imprint of the 19th- and 20th-century struggles that birthed it—into a rejuvenated movement ambitious enough to give workers the powerful voice they deserve in the 21st century.

That transformation is only possible, though, if the labor movement moves beyond the magical thinking that if unions can just survive the Trump era then they can help restore a kind of pre-Trump normalcy afterward. The prevailing sentiment among labor’s leaders seems to be that, if they can just help their allies regain control of Congress later this year, they will be able to contain the damage Trump has wrought and coalesce behind an alternative in 2028 that can roll back Trumpism.

As important as the coming elections are, unions should firmly reject the comforting delusion that they can recover through the ballot box what power they’ve lost in the workplace. For if such electoral victories are unaccompanied by a revived, reorganized labor movement, they will leave workers and unions in a situation no different from the one they faced prior to Trump’s rise.

If the labor movement is to have a viable future, unions must not merely survive but capitalize on Trump’s disruption of longstanding norms, assumptions, and institutions, many of which no longer operate to labor’s benefit—if they ever did. That is the path to advance a bold 21st-century vision of inclusive solidarity, equality, rights, and democracy.

Turning Crisis Into Opportunity

How labor might take advantage of Trumpism’s authoritarian excesses to advance such a vision was put on display in Minnesota this winter, where local labor organizations drew on years of experience to play a central role in the resistance to Trump’s Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) invasion. Unions of janitors, teachers, healthcare workers, and others helped coalesce a resistance that included workers centers, faith communities and clergy, community organizations, immigrants’ rights groups, small businesses, and caring neighbors.

Protesters turned out by the tens of thousands in subzero temperatures, religious leaders endured arrest in acts of civil disobedience, and witnesses turned their cell phones into tools to document ICE malfeasance and protect their neighbors. That resistance was built on a shared common good analysis of power and a recognition of the increasingly baneful influence of billionaires over our political system and economy. Protesters targeted not only ICE but corporations such as Target and Hilton that have either remained silent or openly abetted and profited from Trump’s authoritarian power grab.

Make no mistake: The formal end of Operation Metro Surge in Minneapolis scarcely indicates a waning of this administration’s authoritarian ambitions. Unresolved issues regarding the limits of ICE’s legal authority will likely continue to elicit protest and resistance in the streets. In the meantime, new fronts are already opening as the president disregards all restraints on his power to deploy military force abroad and pushes an effort to nationalize the midterm elections at home. As labor movement leaders contemplate the conflicts that might emerge, they should consider lessons from what happened in Minnesota as well as other cities like Chicago and Los Angeles, where local unions played important roles in mobilizing resistance. They should also learn from the experiences of unions in other nations that successfully resisted authoritarian regimes.

Defeating Trump and his allies at the polls will be a Pyrrhic victory if the corporations fueling the right-wing’s anti-worker agenda maintain their influence over our government.

The stories of Brazil, South Korea, and South Africa are cases in point. In these countries, labor movements joined and helped lead the struggles against dictatorship, authoritarianism, and apartheid. In each case, when democracy won out, unions saw massive increases in membership. During Brazil’s transition to democracy in the mid-1980s, work stoppages jumped tenfold, and Brazil’s labor federation, Central Única dos Trabalhadores (CUT), founded during this period, grew to represent more than 15 million people by 1990.

When South Korea’s dictatorship fell in 1987, a period of militant worker struggle ensued as the number of strikes jumped and union membership surged. In South Africa, the labor movement played a key role in the fight against apartheid, and trade union membership grew dramatically, up from 1.4 million workers and 18% density in 1985 to 3.8 million and 51% by 1998. What’s more, these growth spurts boosted worker power and helped erect union bulwarks to help prevent backsliding into authoritarianism in subsequent years.

In Brazil, labor rallied to defeat President Jair Bolsonaro at the polls in 2022, then opposed his post-defeat coup attempt and supported his successful prosecution. Similarly, South Korean unions played a vital role in defeating an attempted coup in 2024 by threatening a general strike.

As these examples suggest, and as scholars have long noted, labor movements—no matter their national context—tend to expand not in linear fashion but by quantum leaps. The British labor historian Eric J. Hobsbawm described these episodes as “discontinuous” and “explosive” bursts that occur when circumstances force “qualitative innovations in the movement.”

Resisting authoritarians has required such innovations in countries across the globe, which have in turn helped unions to grow. When worker-led movements aligned with pro-democracy forces and succeeded in undermining authoritarian regimes, their victories allowed workers to witness and feel their collective power. Confrontations with authoritarianism in the streets translated into militancy, collective action, and increased organization in the workplace.

The US labor movement’s history also bears out that pattern. While people in the United States have never witnessed a battle with authoritarianism quite like the ones that erupted in South Africa, Brazil, and South Korea, an analogous incubation of explosive growth took place during periods when the US labor movement aligned itself with struggles to defend democracy against what were perceived as existential threats.

The Civil War, waged to defeat the Confederacy and preserve the Union in the 1860s, triggered what W.E.B. Du Bois called a vast “general strike” in which the enslaved transferred their labor “from the Confederate planter to the Northern invader” even as that war fueled the expansion of the national trade unions that would later form the American Federation of Labor (AFL).

The effort to make the world “safe for democracy,” as President Woodrow Wilson pledged during World War I, likewise provided the setting for experimentation with industrial unionism that paved the way for the later formation of the Congress of Industrial Organizations (CIO). And the forging of a US “arsenal of democracy” against fascism during World War II helped lead to the high-water mark of US unionism in the 1950s.

Pivoting Toward Action

The kind of quantum leaps in union growth that have occurred when the US labor movement has linked its fortunes to the future of democracy can happen again. In the growing resistance to Trumpism, we are already seeing glimmers of how this could happen in our time. Unions and allied labor and community organizations provided the backbone of the resistance in Minnesota; employees in the largest and most influential technology labs are confronting bosses who are selling their technology to the government for domestic surveillance and global war; higher education unions are challenging attacks on free speech on university campuses.

Flashes of resistance like these are multiplying. Yet such sparks will not fuel a major breakthrough unless unions at every level—from locals to internationals—embrace the fight against Trump’s authoritarian, billionaire-serving regime and defend democracy by challenging the corporations and Silicon Valley technofascists that are shaping and profiting from Trump’s policies.

Such opposition must go beyond an electoral strategy for 2026 and 2028. Defeating Trump and his allies at the polls will be a Pyrrhic victory if the corporations fueling the right-wing’s anti-worker agenda maintain their influence over our government. Should Democrats regain control of Congress and the White House, the same corporations that have aligned with Trump will be working to sabotage pro-labor policies while doubling down on their AI-obsessed, job-threatening, antidemocratic campaign of economic destruction.

There is no doubt that democracy and workers’ rights are facing down an existential threat. Yet that very threat and the sense of urgency it has spawned have created an opportunity we could not have engineered on our own.

As the experience of other nations and the failure of our own post-Civil War Reconstruction remind us, elites and economic structures that benefit from authoritarian power don’t vanish when antidemocratic regimes crumble; they regroup. We cannot allow such a regrouping to occur post-Trump, for as we have seen over the past 50 years of labor decline under Democratic and Republican administrations alike, a return to the pre-Trump status quo offers no hope for workers or labor.

Naming and challenging the economic actors aligned with Trump is therefore critical if we are to weaken their post-Trump grip on power.

Although their critics have often suggested that US unions have tied their fortunes too closely to politics, in truth, US labor has been reluctant to take up the kind of big political issues that have historically helped push workers into the streets and built workers’ movements in other democracies. We should not be surprised if many national unions hesitate to act decisively. Nor should we expect their leaders to be at the forefront, for despite critics’ endless talk of labor bosses, the movement has never functioned effectively as a top-down, command-and-control institution.

Rather, the national union movement has tended to respond opportunistically to openings that it lacked the institutional will or unity of purpose to create. In the present crisis, local unions in cities around the country—through the common good alliances they’re building to fight ICE, support beleaguered federal workers, and demand billionaires begin paying their fair share—are beginning to create the kind of openings that could conceivably pull the larger movement into the fight.

Evidence on the ground in places like Minnesota already suggests that well-conceived actions by forward-leaning coalitions of the willing can open windows of opportunity and create permission structures capable of drawing more cautious mainstream organizations into the fight. The Minnesota AFL-CIO did not initiate the remarkable “Day of Truth & Freedom,” which triggered a virtual economic shutdown of Minneapolis on January 23, as tens of thousands of residents stayed away from work, school,and shopping. Yet the organizing and alignment-building that preceded that event won the state federation’s support in the days before the action, generating a much larger impact than its initial organizers had expected.

Forward-thinking unions and their allies can replicate this effect in other settings by constructing campaigns that unmask the corporations colluding with the Trump administration’s authoritarian push. Focusing on key sectors and geographies, and engaging in calculated acts of disruption and nonviolent resistance, can not only erect defenses against the administration’s aggression but set the stage for a post-Trump organizing surge.

As longtime veterans of the labor movement, we see three elements as crucial to this strategy. The first is defining our targets expansively and attacking the financial roots of their power. We need a shared analysis of who has power in our communities and nationally, including the key Big Tech titans who openly advocate rolling back democracy and expanding an all-seeing surveillance state.

Having identified these present-day “malefactors of great wealth,” as they were called in the Progressive Era, we need to demand that worker pension funds (state and local government workers’ pension assets alone top $6 trillion) cease investing in these corporations and their anti-worker, antidemocratic agenda. We also need to articulate a platform and visionary policy agenda that focuses on breaking up and limiting their economic and political power. We must find ways to tax their hoarded wealth, reinvesting the revenues in our struggling austerity-starved communities.

A second element involves moving the labor movement into a fighting posture. The past half-century has taken a debilitating toll on the movement’s willingness and capacity to engage in collective action. In 1955, the year the AFL-CIO was formed, the equivalent of 12.1% of union members engaged in a major work stoppage. That level of union militancy vanished long ago in the United States. During the past 25 years, the annual average of participants in major work stoppages has been equal to only 1% of US union members. (The high point of militancy in that period came during the 2018 #RedForEd teacher walkout upheaval, when the equivalent of 3.3% of union members went on strike, a mere fraction of 1950s-level militancy.)

If it’s difficult to imagine a revival of organized labor without a revival of worker militancy, it’s even harder to envision an effective opposition to authoritarianism without it. Political scientist Erica Chenoweth, of Harvard’s John F. Kennedy School of Government, has theorized that, to succeed, a civil resistance movement requires 3.5% of a population to actively join it. If we are to reach that threshold, then labor will need to massively overperform. Labor can play this role only if it begins to rebuild its badly atrophied capacity for collective action. Unions can begin to recover that capacity by aligning contract dates and strikes; crafting common good bargaining demands that enlist public support for those struggles; and planning national “no work, no school, no shopping” efforts like the one Minnesotans pulled off January 23, and as the May Day Strong campaign recently promoted.

Finally, we need community-labor organizing committees, like those that emerged in Minnesota, to lead large-scale drives in crucial sectors while linking these efforts to the goal of breaking up the big companies that are increasingly dominating our economy and politics alike. As we confront the most aggressive consolidation of capital and economic power this nation has ever seen, our goal cannot be only to unionize the behemoths that are reorganizing our society; we must demand their vast monopoly power be diminished and made accountable to the public good.

There is no doubt that democracy and workers’ rights are facing down an existential threat. Yet that very threat and the sense of urgency it has spawned have created an opportunity we could not have engineered on our own. It has roused growing numbers to the defense of democracy, glaringly exposed the dangers of unchecked corporate power, and catalyzed actions within pockets of the labor movement that have a potential to spread and become transformative.

In the years ahead, if more unions begin to follow the example set by organizers in Minnesota to seize this moment by embracing social movement unionism, they will not only play an indispensable role in defeating Trumpist authoritarianism.

They could also help trigger a 21st-century revival of the US labor movement.

The power politicians have over women’s bodies is one of the oldest tools of control in American history. Throughout that history, the promise of protecting women has been the longtime excuse for excluding women from civic life and limiting our freedom. That history isn’t over.

The Supreme Court will soon decide Little v. Hecox and West Virginia v. BPJ—legal cases out of Idaho and West Virginia that will determine whether transgender athletes will be allowed to compete on women’s and girls’ school sports teams.

Idaho’s attorney general has argued that the bans ensure “women’s spaces and sports remain fair, safe, and dedicated to empowering female athletes.” Or, in other words, that we must allow politicians to pass these bans to “protect” women. Although the court’s decision is expected any day now, I have already made mine. Transgender sports bans are not and never have been about protecting women.

I have spent my career fighting to protect the bodily autonomy and legal protections of all women and girls. When people ask me, whether genuinely or in bad faith, why transgender women are unequivocally included in my organization’s work, I tell them the truth: Our fight is the same.

If you have been in the business of fighting for women’s rights and protections as long as I have, you know that women face many threats to their safety and autonomy, but not one of those threats includes transgender people.

The tactics being used to exclude transgender athletes are similar to those once used to keep women from casting a ballot, having a credit card, or getting the healthcare they need.

In 1776, a woman couldn’t own the clothes on her back, much less the home she built. Proponents of the practice said it was “intended for her protection.” One 100 years later, when women were shut out of the legal profession, the Supreme Court ruled in favor of such paternalism, even stating that “man is, or should be, woman’s protector.” And when women were later fighting for the right to abortion, we were told that our bodies are not our own.

It is no wonder, then, that the red herring of protecting women is being deployed in the Trump administration’s executive orders and in the Hecox and BPJ cases. It is the same excuse being used in a flurry of sports bans and anti-transgender bills that have been introduced and implemented around the country over the past six years. Ultimately, transgender sports bans fail to address the real threats women face in sports, like unfair pay and unequal access to training and facilities.

The great irony is that bans against transgender women in women’s sports, women’s bathrooms, and other areas of public life actually endanger all women. The Idaho law that the Hecox case is challenging, for example, requires women and girl student-athletes whose sex is disputed to undergo invasive sex testing, including physical examinations. Athletes in men’s sports are not subject to the same degradation.

For as long as women and girls have been allowed to participate in sports, their bodies have been scrutinized. From non-white women who do not conform to white beauty standards, to girls with short hair or baggy clothes, to those who are deemed too strong, women athletes who do not perform femininity as some deem correctly have been harassed, punished, and forced to face humiliating tests to prove their gender.

It is no accident that Project 2025 and its supporters are pushing both anti-transgender legislation and a rollback of women’s protections against sexual harassment and assault, their right to reproductive healthcare, and even their ability to vote. Today, as the defense teams in Hecox and BPJ seek to police the bodies of transgender women and girls, all women and girls who don’t adhere to society’s rigid standard of femininity will feel the impact.

If you have been in the business of fighting for women’s rights and protections as long as I have, you know that women face many threats to their safety and autonomy, but not one of those threats includes transgender people.

It remains to be seen if the Supreme Court’s decision in Hecox and BPJ will reaffirm what I already know to be true: We women, including transgender women, must be in the fight for liberation together.

Is war simply part of human nature? It’s been absurdly “ordinary” throughout my lifetime, and continually expanding its power and psychological reach.

And unless you’re in the middle of it—unless you’re digging for a dead child beneath a bombed building—war is just an abstract horror. It’s necessary. It’s what keeps us safe. Glory, glory hallelujah.

“You ask: What is our policy? I will say: It is to wage war, by sea, land and air, with all our might and with all the strength that God can give us: to wage war against a monstrous tyranny, never surpassed in the dark lamentable catalogue of human crime. That is our policy. You ask, what is our aim? I can answer with one word: Victory—victory at all costs, victory in spite of all terror, victory however long and hard the road may be; for without victory there is no survival.”

Hmmm...

We’ve spent multithousand years now turning war into the building block of civilization. You know: Create an empire. Defend, defend, defend.

This is Britain’s new prime minister, Winston Churchill, speaking in 1940, just as World War II has opened its jaws. In that context, yes, his words make sense, but the paradox hiding in those words—the speech titled “Blood, Toil, Tears, and Sweat”—is that with victory there may be no survival either. The Good War gave us, of course, the nuclear bomb. It gave us much of the military hell that’s happened in my lifetime. It also gave us, along with a multitrillion-dollar annual global military budget, a sense of eternal necessity to be ready for the next evil monster who wants to get us.

That’s it? We’re stuck with pending war, and actual war, from now on... until we blow up the planet? I don’t believe that at all, but I started digging back into history to get a fuller sense of what others thought. Who are we?

As Steve Taylor, writing some years ago in Psychology Today, noted:

Our view of human nature determines our view of the human race’s future. If we believe that human beings are innately warlike, then there is no reason for us to believe that our future holds anything else but more of the chaos and conflict that has filled our past. But if we believe that conflict is not innate to us and that our aggression is due to external factors rather than being "hard-wired" into us, then we’re entitled to have a different vision of the future.

There seems to be a consensus among historians that we didn’t start organizing for—and waging—war until about 10,000 years ago, during the Neolithic era, when agriculture began replacing hunter-gathering as humanity’s primary source of survival. A key component of agriculture was, and is, possession and development of land, which began sending waves of change through human consciousness: protect, protect, protect! Land turned into property. And thus, for thousands and thousands of years now, people have been collectively re-envisioning their relationship with each other.

Obviously, this is a quickie look at human history. My point is simply to push the idea that war isn’t inevitable, but rather a response to significant change. I now jump ahead to 1895, when New York Journal owner William Randolph Hearst sent a photographer to Cuba to cover the insurrection going on there against Spanish colonial rule. The photographer cabled Hearst that there was no war to cover, to which Hearst responded: “You furnish the pictures. I'll furnish the war.”

And Yellow Journalism was born! And war has remained media’s friend ever since. It’s headline news. There’s fighting, slaughter, and eventual victory—for someone. And the victor controls the narrative.

Well, actually, it’s the media that controls the larger narrative. That is to say, the media creates the context: War is real. It’s what we do. In essence, it’s the bookend of every historical period, the arbiter of social change and, therefore, human evolution. Any questions?

OK, here’s where I start losing my sanity. War may not be part of humanity’s DNA, but it certainly seems to be accepted as though it were. We’ve spent multithousand years now turning war into the building block of civilization. You know: Create an empire. Defend, defend, defend. And ultimately transcend, as a new empire emerges. And then another. Whatever we do in between our wars—live in peace, more or less—may have value, but it’s not all that interesting. It’s just the lull between glorious battle cries.

And thus war starts to seem like who we are. Obviously, it’s part of who we are, because we’ve made it so, but whatever serious value it has in the moment is minimal. Mostly it’s incredibly destructive. It’s an addiction. It’s the lavishly funded antithesis of human connection: with one another, with Planet Earth.

As Rupert Ross writes in his excellent book about Aboriginal wisdom, Returning to the Teachings: “The principle of wholeness thus requires looking for, and responding to, complex interconnections, not single acts of separate individuals. Anything short of that is seen as a naïve response destined to ultimate failure.”

Oh God. Wholeness. Connection. This is the opposite of war. The meaning and complexity of these concepts requires enormous exploration, but for the moment I end with a story about heart-ripping courage and connection—about the nature of peace – that I initially wrote about nine years ago.

This happened in 2017, on a commuter train in Portland, Oregon. A man started screaming racial slurs at—started waging war with—two teenage girls on the train, one of whom was wearing a hajib. He shouted, “Go back to Saudi Arabia!”

Several passengers intervened, standing between the girls and the screamer, pushing him away. The screamer had a knife; he started slashing. Two people were killed, a third was injured. The killer fled the train. He was later arrested. But, oh my God, another act of public horror had occurred. People did what they could. A woman knelt by one of the dying men—Taliesin Namkai-Meche—holding him, comforting him. He said to her, “Tell them, I want everybody to know, I want everybody on the train to know, I love them.”

Those were his last words.

As I hear them again, I realize that this is who we are, even if we don’t know what they mean. They sear the soul with doubt, with cynicism. How can we reclaim them? Do we have it in us to be so deeply loving? The only larger question is this: How do we reclaim—and start creating—our future?

For years, Congress and elected officials across the country have sidestepped one of the clearest economic problems facing working families: The minimum wage no longer keeps pace with the real cost of living.

Today, even full-time work at the federal minimum wage doesn’t pay enough to rent a market-rate two-bedroom apartment anywhere in the country. And too often, politicians have intervened to keep it that way.

For example, I live in Oklahoma, where the state minimum wage has been tied to the federal rate of $7.25 an hour since 2009. As a result, a full-time minimum-wage worker here earns about $15,000 a year before taxes—below the poverty line for an individual and wholly inadequate to survive.

This problem did not happen by accident.

An economy works best when working people can afford to participate in it.

In Oklahoma, some state lawmakers introduced bills to raise the minimum wage year after year—only to see those proposals die without a hearing or a vote. In 2014, the legislature went even further, passing a law that prevented cities and towns from raising local wages, even if local voters and community leaders supported the change.

That meant Oklahomans who wanted to see workers earn a fair wage were left with one remaining option: taking the issue directly to the people.

Again and again, voters in red, blue, and purple states alike have passed measures to raise their minimum wages. In the last decade or so, voters have approved minimum-wage increases in about a dozen states, including Alaska, Arizona, Arkansas, Colorado, Florida, Maine, Missouri, Nebraska, South Dakota, and Washington, plus DC.

In early 2024, Oklahomans turned to the state’s initiative petition process as well. Over 150,00 voters signed a petition to place State Question 832 on the ballot. If approved, SQ 832 will gradually raise the minimum wage to $15 an hour over several years and then index future increases to the Consumer Price Index after 2030.

Yet even as Oklahomans moved toward a vote, politics intervened. Oklahoma Gov. Kevin Stitt delayed the election for SQ 832 nearly two years. The wait is about to come to an end on June 16—when voters will finally get their say.

In the meantime, the delay and political games have forced working families in Oklahoma to wait as costs continue to rise. While wages for our lowest-wage workers have been frozen for 17 years, housing, groceries, and utility bills have all become more expensive.

Today, a minimum-wage earner in Oklahoma would need to work about 93 hours a week—more than two full-time jobs—just to afford a modest one-bedroom apartment at fair market rent.

No one should have to work that much simply to survive. That fact is proof that the current economy is failing many of the people who keep our communities running.

Workers most affected by legislative inaction are the very people we rely on every day: home health aides caring for seniors, childcare workers helping parents stay employed, restaurant staff serving meals, retail workers keeping stores open, and hotel staff assisting travelers. Many of these essential workers still struggle to afford basic necessities.

Our working families have spent years shouldering the cost of federal and state inaction. They are paying the costs through financial stress, unstable housing, delayed healthcare, and less time with their families because they are constantly working to stay afloat.

Many other states have already raised the minimum wage above the federal level, recognizing a simple truth: An economy works best when working people can afford to participate in it.

SQ 832 gives Oklahoma voters the chance to move the state forward after years of legislative inaction. On June 16, Oklahoma voters can take an important step themselves.

But this issue should not rest solely on state ballot measures. Workers nationwide deserve wages that keep pace with the real cost of living—a goal that ultimately requires action from Congress, too.

Because hard work should mean stability, not poverty.

It’s easy for us land dwellers to forget that we live on a water planet, more than 70% of it covered by a vast ocean. But we are entering an age—or more accurately, have created an age—when that fact will be impossible to ignore. With global climate change, the seas are rising, yes, but they are also warming, slowly but steadily, and that warmth is now reaching levels that can drive profound changes here on land. Many of those changes have begun, many are on display this year, and some will have seismic consequences going forward.

Almost as shocking as the scale of these changes are the Trump administration’s efforts to dismantle the very scientific instruments that enable us to understand them. We’ll get there. But first, a little immersion into our water planet to better understand what it means to overheat it and force the ocean to compensate.

Earth, Despite the Name, Is a Water Planet

A more representative, less terra-centric view of our 70% water planet. (Photo by NOAA/NASA GOES via Smithsonian)

A quick refresher on Earth’s ocean. I mean, where did it even come from, all this water?

After Earth’s molten formation 4.6 billion years ago, the planet gradually cooled below the boiling point of water and, fueled by steam released from volcanoes, it rained for thousands of years, filling the low-lying surface of the planet. An era of bombardment by icy asteroids provided a huge additional volume of water. And voila, a water planet was born, almost entirely covered by one massive ocean. Tectonic activity eventually produced large land masses and, over time, both plate movement and global temperature fluctuations have greatly changed the shape of the ocean—and the land, our default perspective—e.g., tying more or less water up in ice. But with the exception of a couple of global ice ages, the liquid ocean has always dominated Earth’s surface. We’ve almost always been a “blue planet,” and always a water planet.

Water Manages Heat—and Thus Life—on Earth

This water was the birthplace of life on Earth. Indeed, water is considered the birthplace of carbon-based life anywhere, which is why scientists search for it in other solar systems. It took at least 500 million years for the first life to form in the ocean (~4.1 billion years ago), and once it did, life remained simple and aquatic for the vast majority of Earth’s history. It took fungi, plants, and especially animals big evolutionary leaps to venture out of the ocean (and much of it did not; today, nearly 80% of Earth’s animal life, measured in biomass, lives in the oceans), first to the tidal zone, then the coasts, and even today, with terrestrial life spanning most dry land, the ocean continues to exert tremendous influence on that life. It does this through a range of mechanisms. Chief among them, our ocean plays the dominant role in managing the Earth’s heat and making large regions of the planet habitable.

The ocean has spared us land dwellers from the true ~36°C consequences of our fossil-fuel burning actions. And we can’t tackle 1.5°C?

A core way the ocean does this is by absorbing solar radiation at tropical latitudes and distributing that heat via vast ocean currents to cooler parts of the world. These currents then distribute water that has cooled at the poles back toward the equator. Without this mechanism, the heat that makes life possible even in the otherwise frigid latitudes would remain concentrated around an intolerably hot equator. In this sense, the oceans are a great regulator of the global climate, tamping down extremes and supporting Goldilocks-style just-right regional climates around the world.

The oceans are also the primary source of moisture and precipitation—basically, weather—to land. As the sun heats ocean surface water, it evaporates, creating humid air that is transported by forces like winds and the Earth’s rotation, delivering precipitation, the water that makes terrestrial life possible.

So, if the role of the ocean in managing Earth’s temperature is fundamental to life on Earth, what happens when we overheat it?

The Ocean: an Unfathomably Huge Heat Buffer

A depiction of how the Earth has dealt with the energy imbalance created mainly by burning fossil fuels and adding heat-trapping molecules to the atmosphere. The oceans have spared us the true brunt of global warming, storing 91% of excess heat, up from 89% when this visual was created three years ago.(Graphic by Copernicus)

The ocean is estimated to have absorbed 91% of the excess heat, caused mainly by the burning of fossil fuels, that has been trapped in the Earth’s atmosphere. This heat storage is possible because of the ocean’s specific heat capacity—i.e., water takes a lot more energy to warm than land or air. Direct absorption of sunlight, the main way the ocean absorbs heat, depends on the level of albedo present, where darker surfaces, like the ocean surface, absorb more of the sun’s energy than light surfaces, like polar ice caps, which reflect it back to space. But other mechanisms, like heat exchange with the atmosphere, warm the ocean, too.

Without that excess-heat absorption and storage in recent decades, life on land would have been thrown into chaos (at best) by skyrocketing temperatures by now. According to one study, the heat taken up by the upper layer of the ocean between 1955 and 2010 was enough to warm the atmosphere by a jaw-dropping 36°C. This massive, climate-mediating role of the ocean puts our thus-far unsuccessful human efforts to keep warming to 1.5 or 2°C in sharp relief. That is, the ocean has spared us land dwellers from the true ~36°C consequences of our fossil-fuel burning actions. And we can’t tackle 1.5°C?

The Buffer Is Getting Thin

The vastness of the ocean means it requires tremendous inputs to respond. But the excess heat that carbon emissions have trapped since the start of the Industrial Revolution is one such tremendous input. Major recent research captures the scale in this way, according to one of a new study’s 50 authors, John Abraham: the heat absorbed by the ocean in 2025 alone is “like 12 Hiroshima bombs being detonated each second, for every minute, hour, and day for the entire year.”

The absorption of that heat means that the average temperature of the oceans has been steadily rising, and now those temperatures are reaching levels that fuel impacts, including on land, that we will be unable to ignore.

Overall, the ocean has broken average temperature records every year for the past nine years. Temperatures have increased most at the surface, where sea surface temperatures have warmed roughly 0.8°C between 1901 and 2020, and recently broke new monthly high records for thirteen consecutive months, starting in mid-2023. But deeper layers are warming, too. The chart below shows ocean heat content at different depths. And while slow ocean circulation constrains the movement of heat to great depths, ~20% of total warming is occurring below 700 meters.

(Credit: ECCO https://ecco-group.org/ohc.htm)

So, Where Are We Today?

The NOAA sea surface temperature (SST) data in the chart below shows 2026 SSTs rising to rival the record-breaking levels of 2024. This is influenced by the formation of a Super El Niño. Outlooks point toward new record high ocean temperatures this year, potentially creating the new hottest year on record for Earth in 2027.

2026 sea surface temperatures are now rivaling those of 2024, the warmest year on record. (Graphic by Copernicus)

Climate change is the clear driver here. Thanks to tools like Climate Central’s Climate Shift Index (CSI), we can now see the role of climate change in daily sea surface temperatures, and thus in marine heatwaves and other anomalies. According to the CSI, this week, both the notable heat in the Indian Ocean and that in the Equatorial Pacific (where the El Niño is forming) are made substantially more likely due to climate change.

The role of climate change in driving warm ocean surface temperatures. (Graphic by Climate Central)

Symptoms of the Ocean’s Fever

These temperatures are now manifesting in impacts around the world and pointing toward accelerating change. In follow up blogs, we will unpack these symptoms in some detail, but to name significant ones:

Warmer water hastens the melting of “ocean-terminating” ice sheets (i.e., land-based ice connected to the ocean), contributing to sea-level rise; creates a warming feedback loop by shrinking sea ice and increasing the ocean-warming albedo affect; enhances ocean stratification, where warmer surface and cooler deep waters fail to mix and redistribute heat; this in turn can drive hypoxic conditions, starving deeper waters of oxygen; can slow major ocean currents (thermohaline circulation), which are driven by changes in density, in turn driven by water temperature and salinity; and can super-charge storm systems, from tropical cyclones to Nor’easters, causing stronger and more rapidly accelerating storms.

We have created an era of ocean heat consequences and now we must figure out how to live in it, even as we work to correct it.

Then there is the acute heat that manifests in marine heatwaves, a condition that is now chronic and widespread in oceans around the world. In 2023, an estimated 96% of the ocean by area experienced a marine heatwave. The most significant heatwaves (all recent) have disrupted marine food webs and caused major ecological harm, resulting in widespread, prolonged coral reef bleaching, large-scale wildlife deaths, and damaged commercial fisheries.

Given the ocean’s significant role in driving or influencing vastly-consequential terrestrial climate patterns, like the Asian Monsoon, ocean overheating has implications for the human systems that are attuned to those patterns, from water supply, to agriculture and food security, energy production, and more. We’ll be tracking ocean temperatures, reporting on developments, and digging into these implications in subsequent blogs.

An Age of Consequence for Warming a Water Planet

The tremendous capacity of the ocean to store away heat meant that the consequences of warming our planet were slower to be made visible. It now means that an enormous amount of excess heat energy now exists in the oceans, to be gradually released to other Earth systems in forms like direct heat to the atmosphere (as we see in El Nino years), melting of ice, and the supply of sea-surface heat that fuels tropical cyclones, to name a few.

It also means that releasing of that heat, slowing ocean warming, and eventually cooling the ocean cannot be accomplished on practical human timescales, but rather in hundreds to thousands of years. We have created an era of ocean heat consequences and now we must figure out how to live in it, even as we work to correct it.

Our Need to Understand Our Changing Planet Meets the Trump Administration

An essential requirement for meeting the era of ocean heat is better understanding how our oceans and climate are changing, and for this, we have global ocean and climate monitoring infrastructure. Here in the US, the Trump administration is attempting—through staff cuts, budget cuts, eliminating data and information (e.g., datasets and websites taken down), and dismantling our monitoring infrastructure—to make ocean, land, and atmospheric change harder to see.

It’s hard to think of a more monumental failure than overheating an ocean planet and handing it off to younger generations.

Most recently, the administration ordered the “descoping” of the National Science Foundation’s Ocean Observing Infrastructure Project, a system of sensing and data gathering infrastructure distributed in the North Atlantic and Pacific. Information is still sparse about this dismantling; the process is not transparent. What’s clear is that, at a time when ocean heat, the slowing of the Gulf Stream, and other major changes are sending shock waves through scientific and decision-making circles, we need greater understanding of what we’re facing, not self-imposed blind spots. Sending taxpayer-funded ships on taxpayer-funded missions to essentially unplug functional taxpayer-funded ocean monitoring systems is baffling. Given the fossil fuel industry’s influence on the Trump agenda, it could look like a massive attempted cover up, except that the crime—warming the planet—is ongoing, and there’s really no covering up the changing climate, because we live here.

The ocean has become easy for the wealthier people of the world to ignore: a place to extract resources and dump waste. But this titan is now rumbling into a new kind of activation, more central character than backdrop. It’s hard to think of a more monumental failure than overheating an ocean planet and handing it off to younger generations. History won’t look kindly on the leaders of this time who ignore the science and the obvious signals. May it reflect that they were forced by their people, in time frames that made a difference, to phase out fossil fuels and invest in a safe and just climate future for all on this rare water planet.

If you’ve ever been to a concert or sporting event, you’ve probably dealt with Ticketmaster.

And if you have, you’ve probably overpaid.

Ticketmaster is the closest thing the live events industry has to a monopoly. It controls the ticketing market at most major American venues and has used that power to squeeze fans with higher prices and limit competition, ultimately making live entertainment more expensive for everyone.

That is why recent legal action against Ticketmaster and its parent company, Live Nation, was so encouraging. A jury ruled in April that it is an operating illegal monopoly. Remedies will follow; the question is when.

Fans should not have to skip seeing their favorite band, team, or performer because a monopolistic corporation has found another way to extract money from them.

For millions of Americans who have watched ticket prices climb due to hidden fees, service charges, and processing costs, this ruling felt like long-overdue accountability.

But one court case alone will not fix a broken marketplace.

The larger problem is not just one company’s conduct in one courtroom. It is a business model built around control. Live Nation and Ticketmaster dominate ticketing, promotion, venues, and resale in ways that make it harder for competitors to enter the market and harder for consumers to find alternatives.

Fans see the results every day. A ticket advertised at one price suddenly costs far more at checkout. Consumers are pushed into one platform with few other options. Artists and venues face enormous pressure to work within the same closed system. The result is a marketplace where one corporation can act as gatekeeper for much of American live entertainment.

That is not how a competitive market is supposed to work.

Of course, Ticketmaster and Live Nation are fighting to protect their monopolistic practices. Company executives have already made clear that they oppose a breakup and intend to challenge court efforts to unwind their power. In all likelihood, the monopoly’s legal challenges will lead to a lengthy appeals process that could lead to consumers not seeing remedies for years.

A breakup of Live Nation and Ticketmaster may ultimately be necessary, because one big player will ultimately squeeze out any competitors in the marketplace.

America has taken similar action before when monopolies became too powerful and too harmful to consumers. Two perfect examples are Standard Oil and the Bell Systems, and the lessons from each are clear: When a company gains too much control over an essential critical goods (like oil) and services (communications), the government has a responsibility to step in and restore competition.

But even before the courts finish their work, Congress can take action right now.

The most important step is to attack the exclusivity arrangements that keep Ticketmaster in control.

Today, venues and artists are locked into deals that leave fans with limited options. If you want to see a major concert or sporting event, Ticketmaster is frequently the only choice—even before the sale begins.

That gatekeeping power is the foundation of Ticketmaster’s monopoly.

Congress should require an open ticket marketplace. Fans should be able to buy tickets through the platform of their choice, not be forced into one company’s ecosystem.

Of course, much of the modern economy already functions this way. Consumers can compare flights, hotels, rental cars across competing platforms, just to name a few. The ticketing industry should work the same way.

Open distribution will give consumers more choice, put downward pressure on fees, and create room for competitors to challenge Ticketmaster’s dominance. It would not be a full breakup, but it would deliver the same benefits while courts continue to consider broader remedies.

Congress should also keep its promise to pass the bipartisan TICKET Act, which would require ticket sellers to display the full price upfront and guarantee refunds for canceled events. Consumers deserve transparency before they buy, not surprise charges after they have already committed.

Fans should not have to skip seeing their favorite band, team, or performer because a monopolistic corporation has found another way to extract money from them.

However, this issue is about more than Ticketmaster. Congress is willing to stand up to concentrated corporate power when it harms consumers.

The live events marketplace should reward competition, transparency, and choice. Right now, it rewards control.

Congress has an opportunity to change that and put fans first. It should take it.