Democratic politicians have begun trying to vent voters’ anger at their opponents by calling them names. Minnesota Gov. and former vice-presidential nominee Tim Walz recently called DOGE head Elon Musk a “South African nepo baby,” presenting him as an entitled foreigner. Similarly, U.S. Rep. Jasmine Crockett attracted attention by calling Texas Governor Greg Abbott “Governor Hot Wheels.”

This name-calling may feel good for Democrats, but it just repeats the mistake of the recent past. Democrats lost the 2024 election due to their inordinate focus on President Donald Trump’s personal flaws, controversial statements, and criminal record as well as by offering a vague, bland policy agenda. What is needed now is a focus on policies—not personalities—though name-calling may still be a key tool, if they do it right.

Rather than focusing on the personal, Democrats should be using labels like “Pro-Cancer,” “Job-Killers,” “Anti-Constitution,” and “Healthcare-Cutters” to tar congressional Republicans. These may sound harsh, even outlandish. But they are true, highlighting in only a few words how Trump and Musk’s actions (and congressional acquiesce to them) will harm Americans in ways that matter to them.

The main objective right now should be not only hitting hard, but hitting smart—and saddling Republicans in Congress with the worst effects of Trump’s agenda using concise, aggressive terminology.

Only through a wave of sharp, crisp, and memorable verbal attacks on all Republicans to raise awareness of the most unpopular ill effects of Trump policies can Democrats force them to either distance themselves from the president or fully own his agenda. Think of the effectiveness of the Republican phrase “death panels,” a slanderous label used to describe the Affordable Care Act that helped contributed to the Democrats’ big loss in the 2010 midterms only two years after former President Barack Obama’s historic 2008 victory. Unlike “death panels,” labels like “Pro-Cancer,” “Anti-Constitution,” and “Job-Killers” have the benefit of being true.

Any Republican politician who has not vocally opposed Trump’s massive, multi-billion dollar National Institutes of Health cuts to institutions researching treatments for cancer, heart disease, and other illnesses should be label as “Pro-Cancer.” It is not unfair, it is a fact—if you are a politician weakening researchers’ ability to find cures and treatments for cancer, you are on the wrong side of the war against cancer. Opponents of Trump could theoretically form a broad base of opposition by forming local groups with names like “Cancer Survivors Against Cuts” to pressure Republicans in Congress to stand up and protect these funds. Even if the effort fails, as it likely will, these labels might prove potent against Republicans in 2026. This national issue can easily be framed locally given that every state has universities facing major cuts, and in many states and congressional districts, these universities and their health networks are among the top employers.

On that note, Democrats should be labeling Republicans as job killers, and not only because of the tens of thousands of federal workers Musk’s DOGE has fired, or because of the many jobs lost amid hiring freezes at universities (affecting whole university towns) and by businesses facing tariff uncertainty. Democrats can connect Musk’s interest in AI and self-driving cars to the fact that he and others in the Trump orbit, despite their ostensible opposition to job outsourcing, are more than happy to use technology to kill jobs. Job-killing congressional Republicans should be tied as closely as possible to Musk and anything unpopular about his business empire simply because of all they do to enable him.

To borrow a phrase used recently by Jamelle Bouie to characterize Trump’s policies, all Republican enablers of Trumpism should be considered “Anti-Constitutional” for supporting an assault on the separation of powers. Similarly, repeatedly calling congressional Republicans “Healthcare-Cutters” would call attention to the massive Medicaid cuts in next year’s budget and how they will affect regular people, which many Americans—including some who rely on Medicaid—seem to be unaware of amid these busy news cycles.

This name-calling may strike some as rude or radical. But being rude never seemed to hurt the Republicans, and right now, the danger for Democrats isn’t looking radical—it is looking weak. Moderates, and even some conservative voters, will have more respect for Democrats who are not feeble and can confidently call out Republican policies that will harm their lives. If they want to present themselves as more moderate, Democrats can frame themselves as “Anti-Recession Activists” and “Constitution Supporters.”

Many Democrats are refraining from going on the offensive, instead apparently waiting until enough conservative voters suffer from the economic pains of Trump’s policies. But the country cannot afford to wait. The main objective right now should be not only hitting hard, but hitting smart—and saddling Republicans in Congress with the worst effects of Trump’s agenda using concise, aggressive terminology. Democrats—liberals, progressives, moderates—are fighting for their way of life. It is time to act like it.

For the next few weeks, the buzzword in US debates on the liberal/left about economics and ecology will be “abundance” after the release of the book with that title by Ezra Klein (New York Times) and Derek Thompson (The Atlantic magazine).

The book poses politically relevant questions: Have policies favored by Democrats and others on the political left impeded innovation with unnecessary red tape for building projects? Can regulatory reform and revitalized public investment bring technological progress that can solve problems in housing, infrastructure, energy, and agriculture? The book says yes to both.

Those debates have short-term political implications but are largely irrelevant to the human future. The challenge is not how to do more but how to live with less.

All societies face multiple cascading ecological crises—emphasis on the plural. There are many crises, not just climate change, and no matter what a particular society’s contribution to the crises there is nowhere to hide. The cascading changes will come in ways we can prepare for but can’t predict, and it’s likely the consequences will be much more dire than we imagine.

If that seems depressing, I’m sorry. Keep reading anyway.

Rapid climate disruption is the most pressing concern but not the only existential threat. Soil erosion and degradation undermine our capacity to feed ourselves. Chemical contamination of our bodies and ecosystems undermines the possibility of a stable long-term human presence. Species extinction and loss of biodiversity will have potentially catastrophic effects on the ecosystems on which our lives depend.

Why aren’t more people advocating limits? Because limits are hard.

I could go on, but anyone who wants to know about these crises can easily find this information in both popular media and the research literature. For starters, I recommend the work of William Rees, an ecologist who co-created the ecological footprint concept and knows how to write for ordinary people.

The foundational problem is overshoot: There are too many people consuming too much in the aggregate. The distribution of the world’s wealth is not equal or equitable, of course, but the overall program for human survival is clear: fewer and less. If there is to be a decent human future—perhaps if there is to be any human future—it will be fewer people consuming less energy and creating less stuff.

Check the policy statements of all major political players, including self-described progressives and radicals, and it’s hard to find mention of the need to impose limits on ourselves. Instead, you will find delusions and diversions.

The delusions come mainly from the right, where climate-change denialism is still common. The more sophisticated conservatives don’t directly challenge the overwhelming consensus of researchers but instead sow seeds of doubt, as if there is legitimate controversy. That makes it easier to preach the “drill, baby, drill” line of expanding fossil fuel production, no matter what the ecological costs, instead of facing limits.

The diversions come mainly from the left, where people take climate change seriously but invest their hopes in an endless array of technological solutions. These days, the most prominent tech hype is “electrify everything,” which includes a commitment to an unsustainable car culture with electric vehicles, instead of facing limits.

There is a small kernel of truth in the rhetoric of both right and left.

When the right says that expanding fossil energy production would lift more people out of poverty, they have a valid point. But increased production of fossil energy is not suddenly going to benefit primarily the world’s poor, and the continued expansion of emissions eventually will doom rich and poor alike.

When the left says renewable energy is crucial, they have a valid point. But if the promise of renewable energy is used to prop up existing levels of consumption, then the best we can expect is a slowing of the rate of ecological destruction. Unless renewables are one component of an overall down-powering, they are a part of the problem and not a solution.

Why aren’t more people advocating limits? Because limits are hard. People—including me and almost everyone reading this—find it hard to resist what my co-author Wes Jackson and I have called “the temptations of dense energy.” Yes, lots of uses of fossil fuels are wasteful, and modern marketing encourages that waste. But coal, oil, and natural gas also do a lot of work for us and provide a lot of comforts that people are reluctant to give up.

That’s why the most sensible approach combines limits on our consumption of energy and rationing to ensure greater fairness, both of which have to be collectively imposed. That’s not a popular political position today, but if we are serious about slowing, and eventually stopping, the human destruction of the ecosphere, I see no other path forward.

In the short term, those of us who endorse “fewer and less” will have to make choices between political candidates and parties that are, on the criteria of real sustainability, either really hard-to-describe awful or merely bad. I would never argue that right and left, Republican and Democrat, are indistinguishable. But whatever our immediate political choices, we should talk openly about ecological realities.

That can start with imagining an “abundance agenda” quite different than what Klein and Thompson, along with most conventional thinking, propose. Instead of more building that will allegedly be “climate friendly,” why not scale back our expectations? Instead of assuming a constantly mobile society, why not be satisfied with staying home? Instead of dreaming of more gadgets, why not live more fully in the world around us? People throughout history have demonstrated that productive societies can live with less.

Instead of the promise of endless material abundance, which has never been consistent with a truly sustainable future, let’s invest in what we know produces human flourishing—collective activity in community based on shared needs and reduced wants. For me, living in rural New Mexico, that means being one of the older folks who are helping younger folks get a small-scale farm off the ground. It means being an active participant in our local acequia irrigation system. It means staying home instead of vacationing. It means being satisfied with the abundant pleasures of this place and these people without buying much beyond essentials.

I’m not naïve—given the house I live in, the car I drive, and the food I buy from a grocery store, I’m still part of a hyper-extractive economy that is unsustainable. But instead of scrambling for more, I am seeking to live with less. I know that’s much harder for people struggling to feed a family and afford even a modest home. But rather than imagining ways to keep everyone on the consumption treadmill, only with more equity, we can all contribute ideas about how to step off.

Our choices are clear: We can drill more, which will simply get us to a cruel end game even sooner. We can pretend that technology will save us, which might delay that reckoning. If we can abandon the delusions and diversions, there’s no guarantee of a happy future. But there’s a chance of a future.

The most gaping loophole in our tax law? The tax-free compounding of gains on investments.

This classic loophole enables the two most lucrative inequality-driving income tax avoidance strategies. The first, buy-borrow-die, allows wealthy Americans to avoid income tax entirely on even billions in investment gains.

These wealthy need only hold on to their appreciated assets until death. What if they need cash before then? They merely borrow against the appreciated assets, typically at very low interest rates.

Are rich Americans, including billionaires, truly unable to pay tax on their investment gains before they sell the assets yielding those gains? Wanna buy a bridge?

The second avoidance strategy, buy-hold for decades-sell, lets wealthy investors pay a super low effective annual tax rate on investments that appreciate at high rates over long periods of time. These investors typically experience decades of compounding gains without taxation.

The effective tax rates involved in this second strategy won’t reach buy-borrow-die’s zero tax, but may in some cases get as low as a 4% effective annual rate. A 4% effective annual tax rate would have an investment with a pre-tax growth rate of 20% per year enjoying an after-tax growth rate of 19.2% per year.

Congressional apologists for the ultra-rich on both sides of the aisle regularly claim that their wealthy patrons should be entitled to endless tax-free compounding of investment gains. Without this tax-free compounding, the argument goes, our richest wouldn’t have the “wherewithal to pay” tax on their investment gains before their assets get sold. U.S. Sen. Ron Johnson (R-Wis.) invoked this tired canard at a recent Senate Finance Committee hearing.

Funny how these same apologists for our richest don’t have much sympathy for ordinary Americans who lack the “wherewithal” to pay for medical care, adequate housing, and other necessities. Average wage earners, under current law, can’t even wait until year-end to pay Uncle Sam their taxes. Those taxes come out of each paycheck, wherewithal to pay or not.

Are rich Americans, including billionaires, truly unable to pay tax on their investment gains before they sell the assets yielding those gains? Wanna buy a bridge?

Let’s start with the easiest case: a publicly traded investment that can be sold in smaller units, an investment in stocks, for instance. Say Rich, a wealthy investor, buys 1 million shares of Nvidia at $100 per share, and those shares, by year’s end, increase in value to $120 per share.

Our investor Rich now has a $20 million gain. If that annual gain faced a 25% tax rate, Rich would have a $5 million tax liability. To raise the cash to pay that tax, Rich could sell off 41,667 of his shares, leaving him with 958,333 shares, now worth just under $115 million.

That doesn’t seem very painful.

Now, let’s say Rich didn’t want to sell any shares. He could instead just borrow $5 million against the shares to pay the tax.

Or what if Rich had bought a parcel of land instead of Nvidia shares and, for whatever reason, having him borrow to pay tax on his annual investment gains didn’t turn out to be feasible?

Still no problem for Rich. For gains on illiquid assets, Rich could defer the payment of tax until he sold the assets, but the tax could be computed as if it accrued annually. How might this work? Say, for example, that Rich’s $100 million parcel of land grew at an annual rate of 10% for 20 years, at which point he sold it at its appreciated value of $672,749,995.

Had Rich paid tax at 25% on his gain each year, his rate of return would have been 7.5% per year, and after 20 years his investment would be worth $424,785,110.

The $247,964,885 difference between his sale price and the value of his investment with its actual rate of return reduced by the tax paid would be his tax liability upon sale. Payment of that amount would leave Rich with the same sum, $424,785,110, had he been able to sell a small share of his parcel each year, to pay the tax on his investment gain.

Put another way, Rich would be left with the same amount using this tax computation as he would if he sold his parcel each year, paid tax on the gain, and reinvested the remaining proceeds in another parcel.

And if Rich died before selling his parcel? His income tax could be determined for the year of his death in the same fashion as if he’d sold the parcel for its fair market value at the time of his death. Or, in the alternative, his inheritors could step into his shoes and pay the same tax when they sold the parcel as Rich would have had he survived and sold it at that time.

The bottom line: If we closed the tax-free compounding of investment gains loophole, some situations might exist where the immediate payment of tax on investment gains could pose a problem. But we can address those situations by deferring payment of the tax until investments get sold and accounting for the tax-free compounding in the determination of the tax.

These problematic situations, in other words, don’t justify leaving a gaping loophole in place.

So the obstacle to shutting down buy-borrow-die and buy-hold for decades-sell has absolutely nothing to do with ultra-rich investors lacking the wherewithal to pay taxes. That obstacle remains the politicians in Washington, D.C. who lack the wherewithal to summon the courage to make our rich pay the taxes they owe our nation.

George Packer recently wrote an Atlantic piece that cleverly situated the Trump regime within a familiar Orwellian framework.

According to Packer, U.S. Sen. Lindsey Graham (R-S.C.), Rep. Mike Johnson (R-La.), and other slavish Trump sycophants have become comically ridiculous (Packer references Henri Bergson's theory of comedy) in direct proportion to their ability to absurdly and mechanically mimic President Donald Trump's perspective with the same rhetorical mannerisms that they had employed mere months ago to argue the exact opposite point of view. "Without missing a beat" they once spoke skillfully on behalf of Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskyy and now (in robotic fashion) they laud Russian President Vladimir Putin. They are stooges of the moment, laughable figures right out of the pages of 1984.

As Packer sees it, the old order of American NATO alliances had "made the past eight decades uniquely stable and prosperous in modern history." In his view the U.S. descent into realms of Orwellian mendacity originates with the antics of Trump and his lapdogs. Packer does not trace the U.S. embrace of dystopian culture to, say, renaming the U.S. military juggernaut the Department of Defense—an example of Orwellian deception far more confusing than playing a game of musical chairs with global alliances.

The schism between liberals and progressives hinges on whether or not one views Trump as an aberration, or a preordained end point of systemic failure.

Packer's calculus proposes that the danger of Trump stems from his power to humiliate and control his underlings in such a fashion that only he retains the ability to speak his mind, while all of the lesser accoutrements of the MAGA-sphere are reduced to being mechanized puppets.

I worry that many mainstream liberal pundits have made fascism into a Trump-centric formula—liberals like Packer betray nostalgia for past glories of American democracy and the world order that the U.S. largely controlled after WW II, and dominated almost completely after the Soviet fall. Like most instances of political nostalgia, this view depends on a myopic distortion. The uniquely prosperous and stable eight decades that Packer lauds were eight decades of war, regime change, colonial extraction, and—notably—eight decades of gathering extinction, environmental degradation, and skewed wealth.

We can either see Trump as a fracture in time, a great misfortune, a lightning bolt from hell intent on destroying a formerly beneficent arrangement of policies and alliances, or we can alternatively see Trump as a representation of American values—a mirror of the culture we created. The schism between liberals and progressives hinges on whether or not one views Trump as an aberration, or a preordained end point of systemic failure.

By the same token we might raise a skeptical eye at Packer's revisionist assessment of Secretary of State Marco Rubio and his passive discomfort as an extra in the theatrical meeting with Trump, Vice President JD Vance and Zelenskyy:

He sat mute throughout the Oval Office blowup while his principles almost visibly escaped his body, causing it to sink deeper into the yellow sofa. Having made his name in the Senate as a passionate defender of democracy and adversary of authoritarianism, he must have suffered more than others from the inner contortions demanded by the new party line—they were written on his unhappy face.

I have far more curiosity about the inner contortions that George Packer employed to rehabilitate Marco Rubio—a stick figure neocon with predictable views on corporately inflicted climate overheating (he doesn't believe in it), gun control (he doesn't believe in it), and abortion (he doesn't believe in it). The one thing that Rubio believes in with undeterred passion is war, and this, in Packer's view, makes him a "passionate defender of democracy and adversary of authoritarianism." Apparently, Rubio's enthusiasm for giving the authoritarian genocidaire, Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu, a blank check for all the bombs of his dreams has no effect on Packer's assessment.

Rubio's constricted body language during the Trump-Zelenskyy showdown seemingly provides Packer with the pretext to assume that Republican capitulation to Trump conceals, in at least some instances, an internal moral crisis. It may be that Rubio had some sort of confused hiccup, a moment of puzzlement, as the story line shifted on a dime, or it may be that Rubio recoiled at his passive role, his mandate to be a mute walk-on in a drama that might have been more persuasive had he been excluded.

Packer gives himself license to fantasize about the allegedly tortured inner life of sycophants, and that troubles me. If we overly humanize Trump's henchmen and speculatively envision them as ambivalent victims of Trump's alleged mystical powers, we miss the seriousness of our predicament. U.S. politicians have been morally castrated as a matter of structural design, for, at least the eight decades of my lifetime. Trump can't be blamed for the vacuous surrender to corporate schemes that U.S. politicians dependably perform. Give Trump credit for exploiting the soulless dregs that he has surrounded himself with, but he did not drain the humanity from Marco Rubio. The moral desert that comprises the center of the former Florida senator resulted from a drought that long preceded Trump.

I believe that we have two real choices—capitulation or revolution.

Packer concludes his piece by asserting that the public view of the Russian-Ukraine conflict has not followed the narrative plot that Republican politicians newly embrace. The public still reviles Putin, and two-thirds of Americans (according to polls that Packer cites) want to continue to arm Ukraine. In Packer's view, America's public approval for arming Ukraine "might be America's last best hope." This misses the larger issue—how did the U.S. become a rapidly consolidating fascist country with politicians (centrist Democrats, neocons, libertarians, MAGA loyalists), all playing their preassigned bit parts?

The true masters of the system, the military industrialists and the corporate profiteers, lose nothing if the U.S. shifts alliances. The public support for Ukraine is little more than a lingering reflection of recent media perspectives. The public is always at the mercy of mass media and corporate control of information. In a country that has spent more money on military spending than the nine leading global competitors combined, the U.S. public still fails to react with alarm. Militaristic propaganda is at the heart of public control, and there are not even vestiges of antiwar passion detectable within the congressional body.

The anomie and gloom that characterize the public mood as fascism threatens to attain consolidation and crush all dissent cannot be remedied by backward steps into the immediate neoliberal system that gave rise to Trump in the first place.

A proposed withdrawal into the recent past of former President Joe Biden, or even former President Barack Obama (if it were even possible to do so—it isn't), condemns the public to accept a retreat into familiar safety—a set of governmental policies that the late David Graeber attributed to "dead zones of the imagination."

Graeber noted that:

…revolutionary moments always seem to be followed by an outpouring of social, artistic, and intellectual creativity. Normally unequal structures of imaginative identification are disrupted; everyone is experimenting with trying to see the world from unfamiliar points of view; everyone feels not only the right, but usually the immediate practical need to recreate and reimagine everything around them.

A true resistance to fascism would involve something more powerful than fatuous dreams about an idealized past. After all, superficial fantasies about the virtues of the past are Trump's shtick. I believe that we have two real choices—capitulation or revolution. The option of stepping meekly into the immediate past, as Packer proposes, will excite almost no one. This is a time—taking inspiration from David Graeber—for recreation and reimagining.

During the 2024 election campaign, candidate Donald Trump’s most controversial rally occurred at New York’s Madison Square Garden. A comedian on the program referred to the island of Puerto Rico—and by implication Puerto Ricans—as garbage. He and the Trump campaign were rightfully pilloried and called out for his disgusting bigotry.

Little notice was given, however, to another noxious racist moment at the same event. On Trump’s playlist for the rally was the Confederate and white nationalist anthem “Dixie.” Notably, that song was played as Trump loyalist and harsh defender Rep. Byron Donalds (R-Fla.) was coming on stage. Donalds is African American and perhaps Trump’s most visible Black sycophant. While Black social media and journalists crucified Trump and Donalds over the incident, for Black MAGA supporters, the episode was simply put in the memory hole.

They were muted as well when Trump and vice-presidential candidate JD Vance spread racist falsehoods about Haitians supposedly eating cats and dogs in Springfield, Ohio. They seemed to be the only people in the country who didn’t hear what everyone else had heard—a fabrication of stunning proportions.

Trump and MAGA’s White Nationalist Rampage

The silence of Black MAGA supporters in the face of Trump and Vance’s bigotry during the campaign has carried over to the second Trump era. Now that he’s president again, their voices are being quelled as his white-power, autocratic government takes shape.

The president has spent almost every day of his second term in office so far raging against diversity, equity, and inclusion (DEI); issuing executive orders of a white nationalist flavor; attacking a federal workforce that’s disproportionately people of color; and making it clear that rolling back civil rights and Black social and education advances is one of his top priorities. Nearly every move of his has involved nods to racist themes and aims. That includes his effort to defy the Constitution and try to eliminate birthright citizenship, his mass firings and funding freezes while he vanishes DEI programs across the federal government, his plan to deport millions of undocumented immigrants (of color), and even his take on the wildfires in Los Angeles and the Washington area airplane-helicopter disaster.

Trump thinks of his racialized and racist perspective on such events as “common sense.” Consider that a shield for his bias against and antipathy to science and evidence, as well as his visceral inability to see Black people and other people of color in any position of authority and expertise outside of sports and entertainment.

Racism should really be considered the central characteristic of Trump 2.0.

His vitriol against the world’s most marginalized and poor has led him to try to completely shut the door on illegal (and even legal) immigration—with a single exception. Recently, he spread his arms and opened America’s visa gates to Afrikaners, the whites whom he (along with Elon Musk) has determined are an oppressed minority in South Africa. Falsely claiming that their lands have been seized by the South African government and that they face genocide, in an executive order he called them “victims of unjust racial discrimination.” He also wrote on social media, “Any Farmer (with family!) from South Africa, seeking to flee that country for reasons of safety, will be invited into the United States of America with a rapid pathway to Citizenship.” Perhaps it’s a coincidence that Elon Musk, Trump’s co-president, who traffics in racist themes about race and intelligence online, is South African apartheid-era born.

It must be strongly emphasized that Trump’s executive order and his multiple social posts on the subject are not only blatant lies but align with the work of South African and American white supremacists who have falsely charged that a “genocide” is indeed occurring there. And speaking of white supremacists, add to that list his decision to release the white supremacists and neo-Nazis who were among the mob that stormed the U.S. Capitol on January 6, 2021 (with, of course, Trump’s blessing and encouragement). With the stroke of a pen, he absolved violent and white nationalist criminals who had carried signs supporting the Holocaust and yelled racist epithets at Black Capitol police officers.

His war against Black agency has been happily joined by his MAGA allies in Congress. Rep. Andrew Clyde (R-Ga.), for example, threatened to cut off millions of dollars in aid to the District of Columbia unless Mayor Muriel Bowser removed street art that read “Black Lives Matter” and renamed the area adjacent to it (previously known as Black Lives Matter Plaza) Liberty Plaza. Clyde claimed that the art was a “divisive slogan.” It went unmentioned that, if he genuinely wanted to get rid of divisive racial symbols, he could start at home. According to the Equal Justice Institute, Clyde’s state of Georgia is host to “more than 160 monuments honoring the Confederacy.”

Silence Is Not Golden

All of this is part of Trump’s lawless and corrupt war on democracy and the strategic divisiveness that is both his brand and his currency. The convicted-felon-in-chief’s usurpation of power has been as shameless as it is brazen, as he attempts to impose a government that could be characterized as racially authoritarian. In fact, racism should really be considered the central characteristic of Trump 2.0.

And what has been the response of Black Republican members of Congress to such behavior? Where is the pushback from his (once upon a time) only Black cabinet member, former Housing and Urban Development (HUD) Secretary Ben Carson? Has there been any reaction from Snoop Dogg, Nelly, or other pro-Trump rappers who claim affinity with the Black grassroots? The answer, of course, is not a peep. Most have run for cover, pretending that Trump is not who he has always been: a serial racist attempting to reshape the nation into a far-right, anti-democratic, white, Christian nationalist stronghold.

Some of his prominent Black acolytes have, in fact, gone on the record opposing “equity” and DEI in general. Byron Donalds, for example, says he has issues with “equity” because it puts a person’s demographic ahead of his “actual qualifications.” It should be noted that, during the 2024 campaign, Donalds, whom Trump was then supposedly considering as a vice-presidential candidate, stated that the Jim Crow segregation era hadn’t actually been so bad because “the Black family was together” and “Black people voted conservatively.”

But qualifications or even competency are not really the issue. As New York Times columnist Jamelle Bouie wrote, “Donald Trump does not care about merit.” It couldn’t be plainer or simpler than that. In late February, with the encouragement and full support of Department of Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth, Trump fired Gen. CQ Brown Jr. from his position as chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff. There is little doubt that Trump got rid of him because he was Black and had been outspoken on issues of race and inclusion. Hegseth accused him of having a “woke agenda.” Brown, a four-star general, is to be replaced by Dan Caine, who, you undoubtedly won’t be shocked to learn, is white and a three-star general.

On the rare occasions when Black MAGA denizens have actually addressed the president’s pathological drive to resegregate the country, it has been to protect him and his policies from criticism. The Black Conservative Federation (BCF), for example, issued a statement, riven with White House talking points, defending Trump’s (probably illegal) federal funding freeze, even as it was being condemned broadly by so many, including some of his Republican allies. Echoing Trump, it stated without evidence that the freeze would do no harm to programs like the Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program, Medicare, and Social Security while ignoring the massive negative impact it was going to have on Head Start, Medicaid, and other programs. To the BCF’s embarrassment, the president was forced to rescind the order 48 hours after it was issued.

Their one-sided loyalty to Trump knows no bounds. Last year, BCF created and presented him with the “Champion of Black America” award at their gala. And that was no joke. He gleefully accepted the award while making awkward racial remarks to the mostly white crowd. The BCF also held an inauguration event for him with tickets ranging in price from $5,000 to $100,000 dollars, which, according to the group, was soon sold out.

The BCF declared on its Facebook page that it is proud to celebrate Black History Month (BHM) and encourages everyone to “celebrate the rich tapestry of contributions made by African Americans throughout history.” Yet there was not one word addressing the cancellation of BHM events at numerous departments across the federal government following the orders of the nation’s white-supremacist-in-chief to quash DEI and any programs that seemed related to it. The Defense Department issued a memo declaring “identity months dead,” while the Transportation Department gleefully announced that it “will no longer participate in celebrations based on immutable traits or any other identity-based observances.”

Far-right political scientist and Trump booster Carol Swain, best known for the Islamophobic rant that forced her to leave her tenured position at Vanderbilt University, wrote a mumble-jumble article hailing his attack on DEI. Although like some other Black conservatives she benefited from affirmative action, she now wants to pretend that DEI is an evil distortion of civil rights. She advocates for the neutral language of “nondiscrimination,” “equal opportunity,” and “integration,” suggesting that they are acceptable conservative values unlike “diversity,” “equity,” and “inclusion.” She seems pathetically unaware that Trump has no love for civil rights, voting rights, or affirmative action.

Out of Touch with the Black Majority

It must be noted that Black MAGA is overwhelmingly out of sync with the Black community in general. In large numbers, African Americans support DEI, affirmative action, and other hard-won programs that provide opportunities historically denied thanks to racial prejudice and discrimination. Black opposition to Trump is not just due to the racist slander and bile he now aims at people of color, but also to a well-documented history of bigotry. His long record of housing discrimination and advocacy for voting suppression flies in the face of the Fair Housing Act and the Voting Rights Act of the 1960s, signature victories for the civil rights and Black power movements that Trump and his Black supporters now disparage.

Trump garnered only single-digit support from Blacks in his 2016 and 2020 presidential campaigns. Despite an effort to scam Black voters with Trump-created Black groups and false claims of surging Black support, he won only 6% of the Black vote in 2016 and 8% in 2020.

Unless there is organized and mobilized political resistance, President Trump will continue to throw racist tantrums and engage in dangerous, even potentially disastrous, racist policies for the next three years and 10 months while Republicans, including Black MAGA types, stand by in a distinctly cowardly fashion.

In the 2024 election, Trump won between 13% and 16% of the Black vote. This was a rise from, but not a great leap above, that 8% (documented by the Pew Research Center) in his 2020 loss to former President Joe Biden.

More recent data shows Trump rapidly losing whatever Black support he had. A YouGov and the Economist poll in February found that only 24% of Black Americans approved of Trump’s job performance so far, while about 69% disapproved. In that poll, white approval was 57% and Hispanic approval 40%.

Denied a Role in Trump’s New Administration

In the new Trump administration, Black Republicans have essentially no perch from which to speak out (even if they wanted to). Trump has one African American in his cabinet, HUD Secretary Scott Turner, as was true with Ben Carson in his first term. Both were ghettoized at HUD. And Turner has recently bent the knee and essentially surrendered HUD to Elon Musk’s rampaging “Department” of Government Efficiency. Turner, in fact, even formed a DOGE Task Force that will certainly lead to staff cuts at HUD (but no guarantee whatsoever of any savings). In the meantime, HUD canceled $4 million in DEI contracts.

Trump also nominated former football star and disastrous Senate candidate Herschel Walker to be ambassador to the Bahamas. Walker, who had to be chaperoned to interviews during his 2020 Senate campaign by Sen. Lindsey Graham (R-S.C.) and others due to his striking inability to make it through an interview without numerous gaffes, has no qualifications whatsoever to be an ambassador.

While some of Trump’s Black supporters have grumbled privately about being ostracized and marginalized, they dare not speak out publicly or demonstrate anything less than 100% fealty. And they are hardly the only Blacks suffering job losses because of Trump.

His goal to get rid of tens of thousands of federal workers will have an immediate impact on the economic and social health of the Black community. After all, African Americans constitute a disproportionate number of federal workers, a key area of employment that helped build the Black middle class. While African Americans constitute about 12.5% of the population, they are about 19% of the federal workforce. And being central to DEI, they are essentially guaranteed to be first on the chopping black.

Yet Black MAGA gathered for a Trump-led Black History Month celebration at the White House, clearly unphased by the irony of such a grim Saturday Night Live-style moment. Like his previous BHM events, it was, of course, mostly about Trump. Some of his favorite old and new Black sycophants were there, including far-right Christian activist and niece of Martin Luther King, Jr., Alveda King; golfer Tiger Woods (rumored to be dating Trump’s ex-daughter-in-law); HUD Secretary Scott Turner; Sen. Tim Scott (R-S.C.); and Trump youth organizer C.J. Pearson.

In an interview, Pearson stated that “President Trump’s anti-DEI policies aren’t promoting racism but what they are doing is manifesting the dream of the great Martin Luther King Jr.: a nation where one isn’t judged by the color of their skin but instead by the content of their character.” Pearson was making this claim while, across the federal government, departments and agencies were canceling Black History Month celebrations and “identity” events.

As the crowd drank wine and ate snacks, neither Trump nor any of the attendees mentioned the elephant in the room: the president’s savage anti-DEI campaign.

Unless there is organized and mobilized political resistance, President Trump will continue to throw racist tantrums and engage in dangerous, even potentially disastrous, racist policies for the next three years and 10 months while Republicans, including Black MAGA types, stand by in a distinctly cowardly fashion. And count on one thing, as is likely to be true of so many other aspects of Donald Trump’s policies: Their capitulation will not age well.

Israel has resumed its aerial bombardment of Gaza. The latest cease-fire, which lasted two months and led to the release of 33 Israeli hostages and 1,900 Palestinian prisoners and detainees, never made it out of its first stage. The Israeli government has now adopted a strategy of inflicting overwhelming violence until Hamas capitulates by releasing the remaining hostages.

Ukraine and Russia have accepted a limited cease-fire. Both sides have agreed to stop attacking each other’s energy infrastructure, but neither has actually adhered to this condition. U.S. President Donald Trump, who coaxed both sides toward this cease-fire, is reportedly furious. This week, Moscow and Kyiv agreed to extend this partial cease-fire to the Black Sea, though here, too, they don’t seem in a rush to stop their attacks. No serious analysts, including those in Russia, expect this cease-fire to hold.

A United Nations-brokered truce in Yemen lasted nearly six months in 2024 before fighting in the country between the Iran-aligned Houthi rebels and the Saudi-backed government started up again in the fall. The Trump administration has recently escalated air strikes against the Houthis in response to their revived efforts to disrupt shipping in the Red Sea.

Donald Trump promised that he would, like some authoritarian father figure, force warring parties in Ukraine, Gaza, and elsewhere to stop fighting and get along. Only the credulous believe in this avatar of Trump as peacemaker.

Last year, a cease-fire in Syria came to an end when rebels, with the go-ahead from Turkey, caught government troops by surprise when they seized Aleppo and kept going. A little more than a week later, they were in control of the capital of Damascus and Syrian dictator Bashar al-Assad was on his way to Moscow.

Cease-fires have come and gone in the Democratic Republic of Congo. Last week, the DRC and Rwanda called for a cease-fire in the eastern part of the country. An astonishing 700,000 people have been displaced by fighting just since January. The record of truces in this war-torn country does not give much hope for this latest initiative.

In other countries, the mutual hostility between the warring parties has been so intense that cease-fires don’t even get a chance to take hold. Sudan, split in two by government forces and the rebel Rapid Support Forces, has so far resisted international calls for immediate humanitarian pauses in the violence.

Cease-fires don’t always fail. Libya hasn’t seen any major violation of the cease-fire signed in 2020. But it’s the only success of the three cease-fires that the Borgen Project cited in October 2022 as evidence of a more peaceful world. The civil war in Sudan resumed in April 2023. Later that year, Azerbaijan broke a cease-fire to defeat Armenia and seize control of the disputed territory of Nagorno-Karabakh.

Donald Trump promised that he would, like some authoritarian father figure, force warring parties in Ukraine, Gaza, and elsewhere to stop fighting and get along. Only the credulous believe in this avatar of Trump as peacemaker. The truth is, cease-fires are usually just empty promises, regardless of how smart, powerful, or delusional the mediator-in-chief happens to be.

What makes some cease-fires endure even as so many others disappear into the fire of renewed hostilities?

Why Cease-Fires Die

When he responded to Trump’s peace proposal for Ukraine, Russian President Vladimir Putin said, “We are in favor of it but there are nuances.”

Those “nuances” were sticking points as sharp as a saber. Putin wants the world to recognize his illegal seizure of four Ukrainian provinces over which he doesn’t even have full control. He wants all foreign military assistance and intelligence sharing with Ukraine to end. NATO membership for Ukraine must be off the table. Oh, and he also wants the world to lift sanctions against his country.

Putin believes that he has an advantage on the battlefield and, with Trump as president, at the negotiating table as well. There is some truth to Putin’s perception. Russia has more soldiers and resources at its disposal than does Ukraine, and Trump is the most pro-Russian president that the United States has ever produced. Putin also knows that the celebrated dealmaker is actually a naïf who pays little attention to details and has been taken to the cleaners in the past, most notably by the Taliban in its 2020 deal with the United States.

But Russia, too, has reached certain limits in its capacity to recruit soldiers and produce the armaments to continue its occupation of Ukraine. Mutual exhaustion is one of the best signs of a cease-fire that can endure. That was certainly the case with the two Koreas in 1953 after two years of relatively little territorial movement by either side.

But both parties to the conflict have to acknowledge, if only to themselves, that they have sunk into a quagmire. Putin, by contrast, thinks that he can prevail. He wants not only those four provinces but the entirety of what he calls “Novorossiya,” which includes all of Ukraine’s southern coast, which would render the country land-locked. Putin also wants elections that can replace Volodymyr Zelenskyy with a more malleable leader.

Any cease-fire that doesn’t lead to Putin achieving these ultimate goals is a cease-fire that Russia is unlikely to uphold.

A power-besotted aggressor who believes that he—and isn’t it always a he?—has an asymmetric advantage over his opponent is one of the leading reasons why it’s difficult to stop wars. Cease-fires for these aggressors are only pauses to regroup or to win international approval or to lull opponents into complacency.

That applies to Benjamin Netanyahu as well. Israel and Hamas have been locked in a conflict over Gaza for more than two decades. On October 7, the much weaker Hamas launched a brutal surprise attack on Israeli territory that killed more than 1,000 people and produced 250 hostages, which the Palestinian group figured it could use as bargaining chips. Instead of negotiating, the Netanyahu government launched its own brutal response, which has left 50,000 dead in Gaza.

Like Putin, Netanyahu has maximalist ambitions and an uncompromising attitude. He wants to destroy Hamas. He also wants to destroy the capacity of Gaza to serve as a part of some future Palestinian state. He doesn’t really care about the hostages that Hamas is holding. The Israeli leader is so determined to prove that Hamas is using Israeli hostages and Palestinian civilians alike as human shields that he’ll sacrifice them both in his bid to annihilate Hamas and, of course, maintain his own political position. To add grievous insult to catastrophic injury, he’ll then accuse the Palestinian group of human rights abuses after the fact.

A huge number of Israelis are fed up. This last weekend, 100,000 turned out to protest in the major cities.

Getting to Peace

Most cease-fires fail, often spectacularly so. “Of the 105 failed cease-fires, 84% were followed by an offensive within an average of just 13 days,” reports Patrick Burke in his study of cease-fires in 25 wars from 1947 to 2016. According to a study by Jason Quinn and Madhav Joshi, 80% of cease-fires fail.

Mutual exhaustion on the battlefield is certainly one factor behind a successful cease-fire. But what can mediators do when one or both sides believe that they can still achieve a complete victory, as Croatia did with Operation Storm in 1995 and Azerbaijan accomplished more recently?

Trump’s approach is to strong-arm the weaker party. He cut off military aid to Ukraine, trash-talked its leader, and forced the country to accept a partial cease-fire. With the latest deal on the Black Sea, he is dangerously close to agreeing to lift some restrictions on Russian exports without approval from Ukraine or the European Union. Such a cease-fire is not likely to last or to lead to a second stage.

Putin is no doubt watching Netanyahu, taking careful notes, and identifying lessons to learn:

• Lesson one: Break previous agreement
• Lesson two: Flatter Trump
• Lesson three: Apply maximum firepower
• Lesson four: Ignore international opinion

From a conflict resolution point of view, a more successful approach would be to identify the underlying reasons for the dispute—competition for resources, historical grudges, cultural differences—and find ways of nudging the parties toward addressing those root causes nonviolently. But this approach assumes a certain power balance among the combatants.

It’s hard to imagine Trump, Netanyahu, or Putin being very interested in such a process. They don’t believe in talk therapy. They believe in power moves.

Where one side has an obvious advantage, an outside force could try to level the playing field. That requires arm-twisting not the weaker party but the stronger one. That’s what the United States did to get Serbia to the table and sign the Dayton Accords to end the war in Bosnia.

Ah, but didn’t the West follow just such a strategy with Russia during the current conflict? All the sanctions against Russia and arms deliveries to Ukraine and resolutions at the U.N. only made Putin fight harder. These punitive actions were taken to help Ukraine repel the invaders and uphold the principles of international law. In other words, the international community has had a stake in the conflict, since Russia didn’t just seize Ukrainian territory, it defied a collective global norm.

With Israel, of course, the Biden administration did little or nothing to restrain Netanyahu. The Trump administration has only encouraged the Israeli leader. Trump’s scenario of a Gaza resort with no Palestinians, however ridiculous it sounds, served notice that the United States would be okay with a genocidal push of all Palestinians from their land.

So, perhaps in some contexts, cease-fires are just bound to fail.

But don’t despair. Remember that 80% failure rate from Jason Quinn and Madhav Joshi? Believe it or not, these researchers were actually encouraged by the results of their analysis of data from 196 conflicts between 1975 to 2011.

“What we found was that the best predictor that any one cease-fire agreement will be successful—and by successful I mean: not followed by renewed conflict or violence—… is how many failed peace agreements came before,” Jason Quinn noted. He pointed to the ultimate successes in ending wars in Nepal and Colombia as important examples.

Wars are hard to end. Exhibit A: The Hundred Years War. It makes sense that cease-fires are bound to fail and fail and fail and fail and fail until one day, they produce a lasting peace. Skilled mediators, a power move or two, mutual exhaustion on the battlefiel and at the negotiating table: These can all eventually lead to success.

But one thing is for sure. Trump’s unholy affection for both Putin and Netanyahu will produce only the worst kind of cease-fire, the kind that the strong use as a prelude to their final push to eliminate the weak.

The Trump administration and Elon Musk’s DOGE have begun dismantling the Internal Revenue Service, or IRS, beginning with 6,700 layoffs. Their stated plan is to cut half of the agency’s workforce.

Their biggest cuts appear to be in the Large Business and International division, which audits wealthy individuals and companies with more than $10 million in assets. These are essentially the workers that make sure billionaires and corporations pay their taxes.

Musk and President Donald Trump claim to be sage businessmen, but it would be hard to find a business owner in America that would dismantle their accounts receivable department when their wealthiest clients still owe them money.

The real beneficiaries of a weak IRS are billionaires and large global corporations.

So make no mistake: These cuts will cost taxpayers a lot more than they save.

Gutting the IRS will hurt the middle class by reducing the taxes billionaires and corporations pay for our public services. It passes the bill to working class taxpayers to cover veteran’s services, infrastructure, national parks, and defense.

When it comes to taxes, the wealthy aren’t like you or me. Most wage earners have our state and federal taxes withheld from our monthly paychecks. Ninety percent of taxpayers use the simple standard deduction filing and hope we get a refund.

But billionaires and multimillionaires are different. Their income comes mostly from investments and assets—which they can hide. They hire experts from the “wealth defense industry”—an armada of tax lawyers, accountants, and wealth managers—to minimize their taxes and maximize inheritances for their fortunate children.

They deploy anonymous shell companies, complex trusts, and bank accounts in tax havens like Bermuda, Cayman Islands, and South Dakota to aid their clients in minimizing taxes—tools not available to ordinary taxpayers. According to the Tax Justice Network, over $21 trillion is now hidden in tax havens like these.

A 2021 exposé by ProPublica found that more than half of the 100 wealthiest U.S. billionaires use a complex trust system to avoid estate taxes, which at the current level only kicks in for people with wealth over $13.99 million.

This aggressive tax dodging by the superrich has resulted in an enormous “tax gap” between what they owe and what’s collected. For the last few years, this gap is estimated at $700 billion a year—almost the size of the Pentagon budget.

Working and middle class taxpayers will pick up the slack, or see their services cut. Most likely some of this gap will be added to the $36 trillion national debt, requiring us to pay on an installment plan.

In previous decades, the IRS had the expertise to keep up with the schemes that billionaires and transnational corporations use to dodge their taxes. But over the last two decades, their capacity to catch wealthy crooks and grifters has been decimated by cuts.

Things started to turn around again in 2021, when Congress voted to invest in enforcement. And already, the investment was starting to pay off. A year ago, the IRS announced they’d recovered $482 million from millionaires who hadn’t paid their debts.

Trump and Musk are now reversing these modest gains.

As the agency people love to hate, the IRS was an easy target for Trump’s anti-government attacks. But the real beneficiaries of a weak IRS are billionaires and large global corporations. With an understaffed IRS, their tax shell games can operate without scrutiny—something seven previous IRS commissioners from both parties recently spoke out against.

We may not agree about everything in the federal budget, but most people agree the wealthy should pay their fair share of whatever expenses we share. And it’s hard to catch the criminals if you remove all the cops on the beat.

The billionaires will be popping their champagne bottles. Even with the higher tariffs on European bubbly, they can afford the best.

If a worker consistently and completely fails at a job, he or she should not receive a promotion, a pay raise, or a pat on the back. Sooner or later, that worker should receive a termination notice.

This is especially true of workers who engage in unethical behavior on the job. Almost any worker who violates office rules, defrauds their employer, or hurts their customers risks not only termination, but potential lawsuits and criminal charges.

Yet a small sector of workers in our nation do not face such consequences for such mistakes or misconduct on the job. Some people, no matter how badly they fail at their job or how many disasters they create on their job, can keep their positions or even move on to even better jobs.

Who are these special people who can “fail up” again and again?

Outgoing White House officials.

No matter how disastrously they perform in office, departing White House officials from any administration can usually find cushy new jobs at lobbying outfits, hedge funds, media outlets, or major colleges and universities.

To be very clear, McGurk and Sullivan were not civil servants carrying out orders. They were political appointees who developed, advocated, and executed disastrous, deadly and illegal decisions.

For the latest example of this pattern, look no further than where two of the most prominent and disastrous foreign policy officials from the Biden administration just landed.

President Biden's former National Security Advisor, Jake Sullivan, and his former National Security Council coordinator for the Middle East, Brett McGurk, left the White House when the Trump administration took over in January. Since then, both Sullivan and McGurk have obtained prestigious positions at some of America's most respected universities.

Without any hint of irony, the Harvard Kennedy School recently appointed Mr. Sullivan to serve as its first-ever "Kissinger Professor of the Practice of Statecraft and World Order." He has also just been appointed a Senior Fellow at the University of New Hampshire’s Carsey School of Public Policy.

Meanwhile, Mr. McGurk joined the Harvard Kennedy School’s Belfer Center for Science and International Affairs at the end of last month as a senior fellow (he also, predictably, joined a hedge fund).

In a moral and rational society, neither Mr. Sullivan or Mr. McGurk would be able to land such jobs after leaving behind a trail of death and destruction stretching halfway around the world.

Take Mr. Sullivan. He personally spent months presiding over planning for the U.S. military's phased troop withdrawal from Afghanistan. Remember how well that ended? Vietnam-like images of U.S. diplomats scrambling to evacuate the Embassy. Panicking Afghans overwhelming U.S. military bases and falling off of airplanes. The killing of 13 American soldiers and hundreds of Afghans at Abbey Gate.

The Pentagon, which often reported to President Biden through Mr. Sullivan, capped the Afghan withdrawal disaster off by launching a drone strike on a supposed ISIS car bomber who turned out to be a well-known humanitarian aid worker returning home to his family. The attack killed 10 civilians, including children who were outside and visible to drone operators when they fired on them. Under Mr. Sullivan's leadership, no one faced any accountability for this war crime.

In a moral and rational society, neither Mr. Sullivan or Mr. McGurk would be able to land such jobs after leaving behind a trail of death and destruction stretching halfway around the world.

Both Mr. Sullivan and Mr. McGurk also played critical roles in ensuring U.S. financial, military and diplomatic support for the Israeli government's war crimes against the people of Gaza.

When asked in 2023 if Israel’s targeting of civilian infrastructure in Gaza constituted a war crime, Sullivan attributed such reports to the “fog of war.”

In November 2023, when the Israeli government was carrying out the defense minister’s pledge to block all food, fuel, water to everyone in Gaza because they were fighting “human animals,” Mr. McGurk endorsed the illegal collective punishment of an entire civilian population by saying that if all the hostages were released, humanitarian aid would be allowed in.

According to reporting by The Atlantic, Mr. McGurk would push back against colleagues concerned by civilian casualties in Gaza by “invoking his stint overseeing the siege of Mosul during the Obama administration,” an operation that cost the lives of 9,000 Iraqi civilians.

During a May 2024 press briefing, Mr. Sullivan denied that what was going on in Gaza was a genocide, and in 2025 he went on to preposterously say that President Biden’s policies saved lives in Gaza.

In addition to their rhetorical support for war crimes in Gaza, Sullivan and McGurk helped develop and execute the policy that led to massive arms shipments to the Netanyahu government.

In April 2024, the Biden administration approved a shipment of $17 billion in unconditional military aid to the Israeli government. The administration also approved a shipment of over $20 million worth of fighter jets and other military equipment in August 2024. In one of their final acts, the administration approved an $8 billion dollar arms deal with Israel in January 2025.

By overseeing arms shipments to the Israeli government long after it was well-established that American weapons had been used in the commission of war crimes by Israeli forces, Mr. Sullivan and Mr. McGurk brazenly violated federal laws, including the Leahy Law, Section 6201, and Section 502B of the Foreign Assistance Act.

To be very clear, McGurk and Sullivan were not civil servants carrying out orders. They were political appointees who developed, advocated, and executed disastrous, deadly and illegal decisions.

Harvard and the University of New Hampshire’s decisions to reward McGurk and Sullivan with prestigious appointments represent the worst example of failing up. The appointments also show a callous, arguably racist disregard for the countless Palestinian Americans whose family members were victims of the White House’s policies.

Everyone knows that if these two officials had enabled the slaughter of 40,000 blonde-haired, blue-eyed Europeans instead of 40,000 mostly Muslim people of color, Harvard and UNH would never hire them.

Starting with Jake Sullivan and Brett McGurk, it's time for White House officials to face the same treatment that most other Americans would face for sparking disasters on the job.

Every March, we celebrate Women’s History Month—a time to honor the trailblazers who fought for our rights and recognize how far we have come. But it is also a time to take stock of the battles we’re still fighting, and one of the most urgent is the fight for abortion care.

Abortion access isn’t just about healthcare; it’s about power, equality, and dignity. It’s about recognizing that pregnant people should have the same autonomy, agency, and opportunities as anyone else. Yet, time and time again, legislation is used as a weapon to strip us of our rights, rendering us invisible in the eyes of those who hold power.

When abortion rights are restricted, the effects ripple far beyond the individual. The economic consequences are devastating. Studies have shown that being denied an abortion drastically increases the likelihood of a person living in poverty. The landmark Turnaway Study found that people who were unable to access an abortion were four times more likely to experience financial insecurity, struggle with housing instability, and be trapped in cycles of domestic violence.

In a system where half the population can be denied life-saving medical care, how can we claim to value equality?

This is not just a coincidence—it’s by design. Anti-abortion legislation is not about “life”; it’s about control. It’s about keeping people, especially women and those who can become pregnant, economically vulnerable and dependent. It’s about ensuring that the structures of power remain unchallenged, forcing people to carry pregnancies they cannot afford while denying them the resources to escape poverty.

The hypocrisy is staggering. Many of the same politicians who push for abortion bans are the ones gutting social safety nets—cutting funding for childcare, slashing paid family leave, refusing to raise the minimum wage, and the list goes on. They claim to care about “life” while making it impossible for parents to provide for their children. This is not pro-life; it is anti-equality.

The United States already has the highest maternal mortality rate among developed nations, and the numbers are even more alarming for Black and Indigenous people, who die at three to four times the rate of their white counterparts during childbirth. When states restrict abortion access, they force more people into dangerous pregnancies, increasing these mortality rates even further.

The recent surge of abortion bans and restrictions has created a healthcare crisis. Patients experiencing pregnancy complications—such as miscarriages or ectopic pregnancies—are being turned away from hospitals or left to suffer until their lives are at imminent risk. Doctors fear prosecution for providing necessary care, and pregnant people are treated as legal liabilities rather than human beings.

In a system where half the population can be denied life-saving medical care, how can we claim to value equality?

Women’s History Month exists because, for centuries, women’s contributions were erased, dismissed, or outright stolen. Today, we see that same erasure in real-time when lawmakers craft policies that disregard the needs and realities of half the population.

Look at how abortion laws are written—by men who will never face the consequences of an unwanted pregnancy, let alone a dangerous one. Look at how reproductive healthcare is treated as an afterthought, even though it is central to economic stability, personal freedom, and public health.

Every time a law is passed that strips away abortion access, it is another message that we do not matter. That our health, our futures, our choices are secondary. That we are expected to sacrifice our bodies and our well-being to maintain a system that was never built for us in the first place.

This isn’t just an attack on reproductive rights; it’s an attack on gender equality itself.

Abortion access is not a fringe issue—it is fundamental to equality. If we want a world where women and pregnant people are not just tolerated but truly valued, we must fight for policies that recognize our full humanity.

That means protecting abortion access at every level—through legislation, through the courts, through elections, and through supporting each other. It means funding organizations that help people get the care they need, regardless of where they live—organizations like WRRAP. It means holding politicians accountable and refusing to let them silence us.

Women’s History Month is a reminder that progress is not given—it is won. The right to vote, the right to work, the right to own property, the right to make decisions about our own bodies—none of these rights were freely handed to us. They were fought for, tooth and nail, by those who refused to be invisible.

Now, it is our turn. The battle for abortion justice is the battle for equality itself, and we cannot afford to lose.

This op-ed was distributed by American Forum.

It’s a tale as old as American liberalism: Say the right thing—but only when it’s safe, and only after the damage is done.

Earlier this month, Senate Minority Leader Chuck Schumer (D-N.Y.) had a choice to draw the line and stand up to a Republican-led budget that proposed slashing essential services like the Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program (SNAP) and Section 8 housing assistance. Instead, after publicly criticizing the bill, he reversed course in under 24 hours and urged Democrats to pass it—calling it the “best path forward to avoid a shutdown.”

This is what establishment leadership looks like: performative urgency wrapped in political safety.The families who rely on SNAP and Section 8 aren’t breathing easier because D.C. stayed open. They’re still wondering how to put food on the table and keep a roof over their heads.

Schumer and Newsom want to be seen as steady hands.The country doesn’t need politicians who manage decline gracefully. They need leaders who disrupt the status quo to protect the people it was never built to serve.

Meanwhile, California Gov. Gavin Newsom decided to deny support to trans athletes. On the first episode of his new podcast, This Is Gavin Newsom, he said it was “deeply unfair” for trans women to compete in women’s sports—framing that echoed right-wing rhetoric used to push anti-trans legislation.

And he didn’t say it to a neutral audience—he said it to Charlie Kirk, a far-right extremist who has spent years spreading anti-LGBTQ+ disinformation and promoting voter suppression through Turning Point USA.

Newsom invited him on as his first guest in an effort to appear “bipartisan.” That move alone signals more than a desire to reach across the aisle—it signals whose approval he’s seeking.

This wasn’t a spontaneous exchange—it was a calculated move, and a political wink to the center-right, packaged as “balance.” And it came from the same man who once signed a bill making California a sanctuary state for trans youth. That contrast gave right-wing media a fresh soundbite.

Even Rep.Sarah McBride (D-Del.)—the first openly trans member of Congress—recently urged Democrats to make room for people with “honest questions” about trans inclusion in sports. But those questions aren’t neutral. They’re part of a long, strategic assault on trans people’s dignity.

State Sen. Scott Wiener (D-11), one of the few who consistently shows up for trans communities, called it out immediately: “Trans people are under attack. They need support, not betrayal.”

In March 2024, Schumer gave a speech condemning Israeli leader Benjamin Netanyahu and calling for elections in Israel—after more than 30,000 Palestinians were already dead. The speech was safe, and the policy—uninterrupted U.S. military aid—remained unchanged.

This is what performative politics looks like in action: too late, too safe, and too empty.

We’re told these are “tough choices.” But they’re only tough if your priority is your career. When Democrats lose ground, they often shift to the center—abandoning bold policies and the people who need them most.

But history shows that doesn’t win back power—it loses trust. As American Affairs Journal outlines, the party’s retreat to centrism—from welfare reform in the 90s to recent budget deals—has consistently weakened its own base while signaling to Republicans that cruelty works.

I know the cost of centrist politics because I lived it. In the 90s, Democrats embraced welfare reform and tough-on-crime laws to look “tough” and “moderate.”

That turn helped criminalize poverty. I was convicted of welfare fraud. I wasn’t gaming the system; I was surviving it. Whole communities were punished in the name of bipartisanship. So when Democrats today praise “moderation,” I hear echoes of policies that nearly erased me.

If you’re poor, trans, undocumented, disabled, or Palestinian—these choices don’t look tough. They look familiar.

And they cause harm. When people with power echo right-wing talking points, they legitimize them. They embolden bills that restrict bodily autonomy, gut benefits, and criminalize survival. They signal that marginalized people—their lives and dignity—are negotiable.

Schumer and Newsom want to be seen as steady hands.The country doesn’t need politicians who manage decline gracefully. They need leaders who disrupt the status quo to protect the people it was never built to serve.

So where are the leaders?

Not the ones who speak up after it’s politically safe. Not the ones who adjust their stances based on polling data, shifting with the wind instead of standing for something. Where are the ones who lead from the front?

Real leadership is not polished. It’s the woman clearing her record. It’s the trans activist running mutual aid while dodging attacks. It’s the undocumented student organizing for housing justice with no promise of safety.

And it is me, a formerly incarcerated queer Black woman who went back to college in her 50s. Who found her voice not in press rooms but in courtrooms, classrooms, and community spaces. Who survived systems designed to erase her and came back fighting for others still trapped inside them.

Real change doesn’t trickle down—it rises up. From organizing, solidarity, and movements that center the people most impacted and most ignored.

Real leaders are not waiting on permission. They are building with the people already creating justice—one expungement, one coalition, one unapologetic truth at a time.

A senior consultant in Saul Alinsky’s Industrial Areas Foundation used to teach progressive leaders that there is a necessary difference between the values and functions of public vs. private relationships. In private life, relationships are ends in themselves. For public actors, relationships are appropriately more instrumental and transactional. Self-sacrifice is normal in personal relationships, while self-interest guides public action. For political leaders, personal gratification should take a backseat to public service. Of course, there is often a blurring of these boundaries, but, in general, when these domains overlap too much, the consequences are usually disastrous. We see in Donald Trump an extreme example of what happens when someone in public is unable to have any guard rails between the pressures of his or her private psychology and public actions.

In Donald Trump’s world, the political is always personal. Barriers between the two worlds, the sort of censorship and self-restraint that effective leaders are obligated to exercise in public life, have completely collapsed. Instead, Trump’s policies are suffused with his personal and private needs, defenses, and insecurities. His tariff policies seek to punish Canada for being “nasty” and resistant to his bizarre agenda of making Canada our 51st state. He wants to hobble Ukraine because Zelensky was disrespectful to him. With Musk’s help, he spins and distorts reality in order to punish the “deep state” that he feels sought to undermine him. He notoriously goes to extreme lengths to try to punish his prior and current political enemies, targeting lawyers and journalists and threatening to ‘primary’ disloyal legislators. His ignorance about policy reflects the fact that he recklessly acts on private impulses and not thoughtful reflection. He lies compulsively and continually, and always in the service of bombastic claims of perfection and self-exoneration. He frees criminals and criminalizes dissent, not out of high-minded principles and commitment to the public interest but out of base impulses involving his personal narcissistic needs and vulnerabilities.

Obviously, public figures and leaders are human beings with personal psychologies that invariably influence their public political actions. Effective leaders, however, learn to subordinate or at least sublimate personal psychological conflicts in the interests of being politically strategic, negotiating compromises, and focusing on desirable political outcomes that serve a broader good. No one is saying that politicians leave their egos at the door, but, instead, the best ones seek to restrain these egos in order to achieve their political goals.

Trump is the opposite. He acts (out) entirely on the basis of personal animus and internal conflicts and then, only retroactively, spins a tale that paints his words and actions as principled or visionary. He will act on a small-minded personal impulse like humiliating Zelensky in the Oval Office, but then argue that what was clearly an idiosyncratic personal response was really part of his efforts to single-handedly solve the Ukraine/Russian war and ensure world peace. He feels slighted by other world leaders and trash talks them in public, implying that his derogatory language and claims are really part of his efforts to make America great again and to promote a high minded “America First” agenda without a hint of awareness that the real psychic motivation behind his actions involve making Trump “great” and “first.”

The characteristics that drive Trump to constantly leak his personal issues into his public political postures, the real reasons he simply cannot keep the seamier sides of his personality from flooding his actions as President, all stem from the precise nature of his psychological makeup. Trump’s psychology is hiding in plain sight. He is driven to avoid or refute any situation, any moment, in which he might potentially feel or be seen as at a disadvantage, inadequate, inferior, or otherwise a failure. He lives in dire fear of such feelings and instinctively, automatically, and desperately has to go out of his way to communicate the opposite. We don’t have to be Freud to know this. We see it every day in Trump’s constant clownish boasting and self-aggrandizing arrogance.

Everyone is so used to Trump’s compulsive sense of grievance and defensive arrogance that it no longer seems to be the impairment that it actually is. No one blinks an eye when he makes remarks, barely concealed within his word salad, about “having the best words,” being “the best President for black people since Abraham Lincoln,” or knowing more about taxes, the military, climate change—well, pretty much everything—than the world’s experts. Even when the conservative Murdoch-owned Wall Street Journal had the temerity to remark that the positive business sentiment seen months before the election had shifted in response to Trump’s tariffs, Trump couldn’t tolerate the implied criticism and fired back with this tweet: “The Globalist Wall Street Journal has no idea what they are doing or saying,” he declared. “They are owned by the polluted thinking of the European Union, which was formed for the primary purpose of ‘screwing the United States of America. Their (WSJ!) thinking is antiquated and weak, and very bad for the USA. But have no fear, we will WIN on everything!!!”

My point here is that Trump has no choice, no freedom at all, to edit or censor remarks like these because the psychic threats they seek to mitigate—feelings of shame, inferiority and/or failure—are so threatening to him that they leave him no room at all to be cautious, modest, or to seek common ground. While all politicians, like all people, bring their personal psychologies into their public work lives, Trump’s interior life is a clown car of neurotic conflicts that have seized control of his executive functions and shape his every public statement and action. Unfortunately the fact that these conflicts are playing out publicly in the head of the most powerful person in the world threatens economic and political stability worldwide. WE can only hope that there are still some adults in the room that can restrain him.

Bob McChesney, who died on Tuesday at the age of 72, first introduced himself to me almost 30 years ago, on the set of a public television news program in Madison, Wisconsin. Bob was a distinguished University of Wisconsin professor who was gaining an international reputation for his groundbreaking analysis of the threat to democracy posed by corporate control of media. Raising his arguments in books, speeches, and frequent C-Span appearances, he was well on his way to becoming one of the great public intellectuals of his time. I was a young newspaper editor who had earned a slim measure of recognition for my advocacy on behalf of investigative journalism and press freedom.

The program was framed as a debate about the future of journalism. Bob was positioned as the doomsayer, warning about how media consolidation was killing journalism. I was expected to counter that the future was actually bright. As it turned out, neither of us wanted to follow the script. Instead of arguing, we both agreed that profit-obsessed corporations were destroying American journalism, and that this destruction would pose an ever more serious threat to American democracy.

It wasn’t a particularly satisfying exchange for our hosts that evening, but it was the beginning of a collaboration that would span three decades. Bob and I cowrote half a dozen books and dozens of articles, joined Bill Moyers for a series of PBS interviews that would examine threats to journalism and democracy, and did our best, with more allies than we could have imagined in those early days, to stir up a reform movement that recognized the crisis and endeavored to set the stage for media that serves people rather than corporate bottom lines.

Bob, with his remarkable intellect and even more remarkable capacity for communicating his vision of a media that served citizens rather than corporations, was always the driving force. His research and his insatiable curiosity helped him to see the future more clearly than any scholar of his generation, with such precision that Moyers would compare him to both Tom Paine and Paul Revere. As new political and societal challenges arose in an ever more chaotic moment for America and the world, Bob explained how they should be understood as fresh manifestations of an ancient danger: the concentration of power—in this case, the power of the media, in the hands of old-media CEOs and new tech oligarchs, all of whom cared more about commercial and entertainment strategies than democratic and social values.

Bob, with his remarkable intellect and even more remarkable capacity for communicating his vision of a media that served citizens rather than corporations, was always the driving force.

Bob took the “public” part of “public intellectual” seriously. You knew he wanted to swing into action when he’d say, “We need to put our heads together…” That was his call to write another book, organize another national conference on media reform, or rally another movement to defend the speak-truth-to-power journalism that the founders of the American experiment understood as the only sure footing for representative democracy.

Bob kept issuing the call, even as a series of health challenges slowed him down. He was still doing so a few days before his death following a year-long fight with cancer. His was a life fulfilled in the best sense of the word. He died a happy man, holding the hand of his beloved wife, Inger Stole, and reflecting on time spent with his daughters, Amy and Lucy.

Our last conversations recalled friends and colleagues who had answered his calls to save journalism and renew our democracy: Craig Aaron, Victor Pickard, Josh Silver, Kimberly Longey, Russell Newman, Derek Turner, Ben Scott, Joe Torres, Tim Karr, Matt Wood, Katrina vanden Heuvel, Michael Copps, Noam Chomsky, Amy Goodman, Bernie Sanders, Ralph Nader, the Rev. Jesse Jackson, and too many others to name. Bob loved scholarship, loved activism, and loved collaborating with people who made connections between the two—sharing writing credits with former students at UW-Madison and later at the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign, working with unions of media workers and, perhaps above all, strategizing with the team at Free Press, the media reform group he co-founded in 2003 to advocate for diversity in ownership, robust pubic media, net neutrality and always, always, democracy. Bob was frustrated by the oligarchical overreach now on display in the Washington of Donald Trump and Elon Musk—a development he had predicted with eerie accuracy. Yet he remained undaunted to the end, still spinning out fresh ideas for upending corporate control of media, getting Big Money out of politics, and ushering in a new era of freewheeling debate and popular democracy.

That was the essence of Robert Waterman McChesney. He was a globally respected communications scholar who was wholly welcome in the halls of academia, yet he was never satisfied working within an ivory tower. He was a rigorous researcher into the worst abuse of corporate and political establishments. Yet he refused to surrender his faith in the ability of people-powered movements to upend monarchs and oligarchs and, in the words of Tom Paine, “begin the world over again.”

Bob regarded Paine—the immigrant pamphleteer who rallied the people of his adopted country to dismiss King George III and the colonial enterprise, and who spent the rest of his life demanding that this new United States live up to the egalitarian promise of liberty and justice for all—as the essential founder of the American project. Like Paine, Bob believed that with information and encouragement, grassroots activists could carry Paine’s legacy forward into the 21st century. Countless people heeded his call.

“Bob McChesney was a brilliant scholar whose ideas and insights reached far beyond the classroom. He opened the eyes of a generation of academics, journalists, politicians, and activists—including mine—to how media structures and policies shape our broader politics and possibilities,” explained Craig Aaron, the co-CEO of Free Press. “While McChesney spent much of his career charting the problems of the media and the critical junctures that created our current crises, he believed fundamentally in the public’s ability to solve those problems and build a media system that serves people’s needs and sustains democracy. His ideas were bold and transformative, and he had little patience for tinkering around the edges. Rather than fighting over Washington’s narrow vision of what was possible, he always said—and Bob loved a good sports metaphor—that we needed to throw the puck down to the other end of the ice.”

Bob examined the relationship between media and democracy with scholarly seriousness. Yet he coupled that seriousness with a penchant not just for sports metaphors and references to rock-and-roll songs but spot-on cinematic analogies, which invited Americans to recognize the crisis. Speaking to Moyers about how America’s media policies were forged behind closed doors in Washington, by lobbyists and politicians, Bob succintly defined that process: “Pure corruption. This is really where Big Money crowds everything else out. The way to understand how policymakers make media in this country [is to watch] a great movie: The Godfather: Part II. There’s a scene early in the movie where all the American gangsters are on top of a hotel roof in Havana. It’s a classic scene featuring Hyman Roth and Michael Corleone. They’ve got a cake being wheeled out to them. And Hyman Roth is cutting up slices of the cake. The cake’s got the outline of Cuba on it, and they’re giving each gangster a slice of Cuba. And while he’s doing this, Hyman Roth’s [talking about how they can work with government to carve up Cuba in ways that make them all rich]. That’s how media policy is made in the United States.”

The accessibility of his speech—the way it turned something as potentially obscure as communications policy into a readily understandable issue—was Bob’s genius. He wanted to upend the money power and tip the balance toward systems that would empower working-class people—as opposed to billionaires—to shape the future of media: with strategies for giving citizens democracy vouchers that they could use to support independent media, and a host of other remedies. Like his friend Bernie Sanders, Bob believed it essential to have a media free enough from corporate influence to speak truth to economic and political power, boldly critique the excesses of capitalism, and raise the alarm against creeping oligarchy.

The accessibility of his speech—the way it turned something as potentially obscure as communications policy into a readily understandable issue—was Bob’s genius.

This was the premise that underpinned an academic career that saw Bob author or co-author almost 30 books—including the groundbreaking Rich Media, Poor Democracy, his 1999 manifesto on how the decay of journalism would lead to a collapse of democratic norms, and 2013’s Digital Disconnect, his essential assessment of the danger of allowing Silicon Valley billionaires to define online communications. Many of the same themes ran through examinations of the shuttering of newspapers by corporate conglomerates that left communities as news deserts, of the destructive influence of political advertising on the national discourse, and of the failure of political and media elites to bring citizens into debates about automation, machine learning, and artificial intelligence. Noam Chomsky, whose own work on the media’s manufacturing of consent had profoundly influenced Bob’s scholarship (along with that of Ben Bagdikian, the journalist who wrote The Media Democracy), became Bob’s most ardent champion. “Robert McChesney’s work has been of extraordinary importance,” explained Chomsky. “It should be read with care and concern by people who care about freedom and basic rights.”

Bob’s research—and the books, lectures and activism that extended from it—earned him Harvard’s Goldsmith Book Prize, the Kappa Tau Alpha Research Award, the Newspaper Guild’s Herbert Block Freedom Award (for “having done more for press freedom than anyone”), and the International Communications Association’s C. Edwin Baker Award for the Advancement of Scholarship on Media, Markets and Democracy. It also gained him a hearing from thoughtful members of Congress, the Federal Communications Commission, and the Federal Trade Commission. Even if they did not always follow his advice, progressive officials recognized the wisdom of his analysis and incorporated it into their work. That’s one of the reasons why, in 2009, Utne Reader named Bob as one of “50 visionaries who are changing your world.” Charles Lewis, the founder of the Center for Public Integrity, simply referred to Bob as “the conscience of the media in America.”

Bob’s last words to me, though they were a bit more labored due to his illness, were a repeat of his constant call to action: “Let’s put our heads together…”

Lewis wrote those words the better part of two decades ago. Bob remained that conscience, even as “media deserts” spread their arid path across America, as disinformation and misinformation overwhelmed the Internet, as propagandistic advertising warped our politics and as democratic expectations were undermined. It was all as he had predicted. But he was not inclined toward “I told you so” rejoinders.

Rather, Bob kept the faith that popular movements would push back against the decay, and the chaos, just as they had in the Progressive Era, the New Deal years, and the 1960s. “You’ve got to look in the mirror and understand that, if you act like change for the better is impossible, you guarantee it will be impossible,” he would say. “That’s the one decision each individual faces.”

Bob looked in that mirror confidently and courageously throughout a life of scholarship and activism. Some of our last conversations were about the huge crowds Bernie Sanders was attracting for his “Fighting Oligarchy” tour, and the thousands of Americans who have been showing up to challenge Republican members of Congress at town hall meetings. Just like Tom Paine, Bob saw fresh hope in the people who were rising up and demanding a future defined by their humanity, as opposed to corporate power. This might, he suggested, be the opening for a new surge in activism for journalism and democracy, a surge that might “begin the world over again.”

Bob’s last words to me, though they were a bit more labored due to his illness, were a repeat of his constant call to action: “Let’s put our heads together…” In other words, let’s make a plan. Let’s do something. That was his charge to those of us who cherished Bob McChesney’s mission and his spirit. We honor him best by accepting it.

Nations engaged in wars with conventional weapons are not likely to hold back from using their most powerful weapons if they believe they are losing the war, and for too many countries in our world the most powerful weapons are nuclear. Countries committed to fighting a conventional war are also likely to be committed to the meme of “We Can’t Lose.”

A nuclear war could begin with the losing side in a conventional war making use of a small local tactical nuclear weapon to destroy the supply lines of its enemy. But once one side uses such a weapon the other side will feel that it too must engage with its most powerful weapons. Frustration is likely to set in when it appears that restricting such weapons to the immediate battlefield of the war is not sufficient to win. It might then be seen as necessary to destroy the enemy’s airfields and the power centers in its capital with longer range, more powerful nuclear weapons.

Just such a sequence of escalation in the use of nuclear weapons from tactical use in a local battlefield to strategic use in the destruction of an enemy’s cities was shown to be likely in a 1983 simulation described in a recent article by William Langewiesche in The New York Times Magazine. The simulation was large scale and involved much of the U.S. defense establishment. The simulation began with a conventional war between Russia and the West on the fields of Poland and East Germany. As it began to appear that the West was losing and the Netherlands was threatened, the West initiated the use of small tactical nuclear weapons that it fired onto the enemy’s supply lines in the local battlefield. Russia followed suit. Within a few days the airfields behind the frontlines from which the planes dropping the tactical weapons took off were struck with larger nuclear weapons. Finally, strategic weapons were used against the capitals of Western Europe and Russia.

One fears the near inevitability that one or more of the current wars in our world will end in nuclear war, the accompanying nuclear winter, and the possible end of human life on Earth.

The results surprised those who participated in the simulation. The conclusion was that a nuclear war cannot be controlled.

Our world has many local conflicts such as the wars in Ukraine and the Middle East that involve nuclear powers. This is in addition to major geostrategic conflicts between the nuclear powers of U.S., Russia, and China. All of these conflicts have the potential of becoming nuclear.

Russia, for example, has warned the West that it will use a nuclear weapon in its war with Ukraine if it believes it is losing the current war with conventional weapons. Russia is thus telling the west that “we can’t lose.”

Israel has warned that it will exercise “The Samson Option” if it is in a war with its neighbors and believes it can no longer defend Israel with conventional weapons. The Samson Option involves the nuclear bombing of cities such as Damascus, Bagdad, or Cairo with nuclear weapons. More recently, Israel’s Heritage Minister Amichai Eliyahu has raised the possibility of dropping a nuclear bomb on Gaza. Israel too is thus telling the world that “we cannot and will not lose.”

It is likely that the United States too believes that “we cannot lose.” If it is in a war with China using conventional weapons and China is gaining the upper hand then it is quite possible that the U.S., with its triad of nuclear-armed submarines, bombers, and land-based missiles, would use these nuclear weapons. In fact, many in the U.S. defense establishment believe that a nuclear war with China can be fought and won by the U.S. Thus, the U.S. too believes that “we cannot lose.” Similar considerations by the U.S. would apply if it were losing a war with Russia.

Other states with nuclear weapons may also believe they cannot lose. North Korea has stated that it would not use nuclear weapons in a preemptive strike but would use its nuclear weapons if attacked, and recent events on the Korean peninsula suggest that war between the two Koreas is a real possibility. It also seems likely that if Pakistan or India were engaged in a conventional war and one side was losing, that that side would believe they could not lose and would initiate a nuclear exchange.

The likelihood of the use of nuclear weapons becomes still greater if other nations such as Japan, Brazil, Iran, or Saudi Arabia join the nuclear club in the interest of deterrence (no nuclear armed country has ever been invaded) and adopt the meme of “we cannot lose.”

All this makes one pessimistic. One fears the near inevitability that one or more of the current wars in our world will end in nuclear war, the accompanying nuclear winter, and the possible end of human life on Earth.

What can be done? It seems the only solution is the complete abolition of nuclear weapons as proposed in the Treaty on the Prohibition of Nuclear Weapons that has now been signed by 93 non-nuclear states. Unfortunately, the nuclear states have not signed onto this treaty but should be encouraged to do so.

Skeptics will say that nuclear powers might sign on to the Treaty on the Prohibition of Nuclear Weapons but would hold in secret a few nuclear weapons so as to be able to dominate their enemies in a conventional war. That may well happen, but the vast reduction of nuclear weapons that the treaty would require and the absence of nuclear fear it would bring with it would make the universal adoption of the treaty a self-perpetuating step toward the world we deserve and must have.

In April, the International Maritime Organization has a critical opportunity to put shipping on a path toward real climate action. A levy on shipping emissions would not only hold major polluters accountable but also generate billions in funding to support a just transition—one that helps vulnerable nations, accelerates zero-emission fuel production, and breaks shipping’s dependence on fossil fuels.

Adeboye Joseph Oluwadamilare, a Nigerian climate advocate who called for a levy at last year’s International Maritime Organization (IMO) meeting, said, “If we don’t act now, climate change could cost the global economy $38 trillion every year.”

If the levy is adopted, the revenues could be used to support the most vulnerable countries towards transitioning their shipping fleets and port infrastructure to zero-emission technologies. It would rightly force the biggest polluters to pay the true cost to our planet and health to continue to pollute and would set the industry on a path to a just and equitable transition.

While some in the shipping industry may resist the financial burden of upgrading fleets, the alternative—a world plagued by climate-fueled disasters, serious threats to public health, and economic instability—is far worse.

Top shipping companies like Maersk and CMA CGM have made billions of dollars in revenues over this past year—more than $100 billion combined in 2024. Both companies have taken steps to transition their fleets to zero emissions but not on pace to meet the timeline of the Paris agreement or the IMO’s own 2023 greenhouse gas reduction strategy. Nicole Morson, a climate activist from Dominica, also pushed for a levy of $150 per metric ton of greenhouse gas emissions last year in London. She told The Wall Street Journal that the push for the tax is “a movement of the climate underdogs.”

It is time to hold global shipping corporations accountable for burning heavy fuel oils and putting profits before the well-being of people and the planet. The majority of Americans recognize that global warming is happening; a recent study from Yale and George Mason University found that 73% of Americans recognize that global warming is happening, including 60% who say that it is caused mostly by human activities. The good news is that the cost of clean shipping is negligible—one study shows that using e-fuels adds just 8 cents to a pair of Nikes.

As the world’s shipping regulator, it is time that the International Maritime Organization take action to adopt a levy to hold the sector accountable. Olumide Idowu, another climate activist from Nigeria and known as “Mr. Climate,” said: “One of the best ways to clean up shipping and avoid huge climate bills is by pricing its emissions. A global levy on shipping emissions will help get ships off faster off fossil fuels while generating finance worth billions of dollars to upgrade shipping to zero emissions and make the sector more resilient, especially in the most vulnerable and developing countries.”

Revenue could also be used to reward the needed production of zero-emission fuels and required infrastructure upgrades in climate vulnerable countries. The World Bank estimates that around $60 billion could be generated annually, based on a price of $100 per metric ton per greenhouse gas emissions. It would be a drop in the bucket for the industry but would help accelerate shipping decarbonization around the world and in the most vulnerable countries.

The cost of inaction is far greater than the price of transition. Climate change threatens global supply chains, coastal infrastructure, and economies, with damages projected to reach trillions of dollars annually. While some in the shipping industry may resist the financial burden of upgrading fleets, the alternative—a world plagued by climate-fueled disasters, serious threats to public health, and economic instability—is far worse. The IMO must decide: Will it lead the industry toward a sustainable future, or allow shipping’s biggest polluters to keep passing the costs of their pollution onto the most vulnerable?

1,613.

That’s how many words Brad Karp, chairman of Paul, Weiss, Rifkind, Wharton, & Garrison LLP, used in his March 23 memo defending his firm’s capitulation to U.S. President Donald Trump.

One would have been enough: greed.

Observers have been shocked and puzzled at Paul Weiss’ refusal to fight Trump’s unconstitutional order aimed at destroying the firm. But its decision was a culminating event in Big Law’s transformation from a noble profession to a collection of profit-maximizing businesses.

The Big Law business model values only what it can measure. And there’s no metric for defending the Constitution, preserving democracy, or upholding the rule of law.

The Lawyer Bubble: a Profession in Crisis documents that transformation. It’s based on my 30-year career as a litigator in Big Law—a select group of the nation’s largest and most lucrative law firms. The vast majority share the same goal: maximizing equity partners’ current income. A few metrics—size, growth, revenues, billable hours, leverage, profits per partner—have become the definitive measures of a firm’s success.

By those criteria, Paul Weiss has been wildly successful. In 2024, the firm’s revenues exceeded $2.6 billion and its average profits per equity partner were more than $7.5 million.

A Successful Business Model—Especially for the Few

Karp addressed his memo to the “Paul Weiss Community” of more than 1,000 lawyers. But the real players at any Big Law firm are the equity partners. As of September 2024, Paul Weiss had 212.

At most firms, a small subset of that group controls clients that bring in the most business. Those equity partners run the place, set the culture, and get the largest share of the profits pie. On average, the highest-paid equity partners in a Big Law firm earn 10 times more than their lowest-paid equity-partner colleagues.

From an economic perspective, it’s important to run any large institution efficiently. But most Big Law firm leaders have become so obsessed with the metrics of their business model that they have forgotten why they went to law school in the first place.

Practicing law is not just maximizing revenues and minimizing costs. But the Big Law business model values only what it can measure. And there’s no metric for defending the Constitution, preserving democracy, or upholding the rule of law. Karp’s memo observes that, like many Big Law firms, Paul Weiss attorneys donate significant time to worthy causes. That’s laudable but no excuse for caving in to Trump’s unlawful demands.

Trump’s Test

Trump’s relentless assault on the judicial system has targeted attorneys and judges as “unfair” to him personally. None of those specious attacks reached Big Law or its business model until now.

Trump directed his first Big Law assault at Covington & Burling, but it was limited to a handful of individuals. Then he went after everyone at Perkins Coie. With survival on the line, Perkins Coie and its litigation counsel Williams & Connolly rose to the challenge. Federal District Court Judge Beryl Howell sided with the firm and brought Trump’s effort to a screeching halt.

Except it didn’t. After that unambiguous loss, Trump issued a similar order against Paul Weiss. It was classic Trump: Never admit a mistake; after a defeat, double down. Trump then sought Judge Howell’s disqualification from the Perkins Coie case. He lost that one too.

Epic Fail

Rarely does a potential litigant have the confidence of victory that Judge Howell’s ruling in favor of Perkins Coie had given Paul Weiss. For many reasons, resistance should have been an easy call.

First, every attorney’s sworn oath demanded it. Upon entering the bar, all lawyers pledge to defend the Constitution and uphold the rule of law. We don’t get to pick and choose when to honor it.

Second, Paul Weiss’s multimillionaire equity partners could afford the fight financially.

As leaders of the profession in these perilous times, all Big Law partners have a special obligation to think beyond the metrics of profit-maximization.

Third, along with the corporate world, the entire legal profession was looking to Paul Weiss—one of the most preeminent Big Law firms—for leadership at a dangerous moment.

Finally, Trump had declared that his attacks on the judiciary system, Big Law, and anyone he disfavored would continue.

But Paul Weiss capitulated. Karp said that clients worried about retaining a law firm that was “persona non grata” with the administration—a phrase he used twice in his memo. If that’s true, those clients are as short-sighted as Karp and his colleagues. Whether a client thinks its lawyer should resist a rogue president is irrelevant.

Perhaps the firm did not explain to its corporate clients the long-run implications of capitulation. Without the rule of law, the underlying legal certainty necessary for effective commerce disappears. Contracts become unenforceable. Constitutional rights are lost. Chaos reigns.

Even at a practical level, relying on attorneys who give in to Trump’s unlawful demands is risky. What happens when those clients become persona non grata because Trump directs his next arbitrary and illegal attack at them? How will clients feel when the only lawyers who are not persona non grata are the ones whom Trump likes? Should clients worry that its lawyers’ desire to remain “Trump-approved” might tempt their counsel to compromise clients’ interests when challenging his administration’s illegal policies?

Karp also said that he followed the path that the firm recommends to clients facing “bet-the-company” litigation: settle rather than risk extinction. Let’s test that with a thought experiment:

A client comes to Paul Weiss with a “bet-the-company” crisis. Precedent in an identical case virtually guarantees that the client will win.

“If you settle this frivolous attack, it will embolden your adversaries,” the lawyer warns. “In the long-run, the best business decision is to fight it.”

“Is that what you would do?” the client asks.

“Yes,” the attorney responds.

“But it’s not what you did, is it?”

As leaders of the profession in these perilous times, all Big Law partners have a special obligation to think beyond the metrics of profit-maximization.

As William Bruce Cameron said, “Not everything that counts can be counted, and not everything that can be counted counts.”

The fight isn’t over. Four days after Paul Weiss surrendered, Trump issued an executive order targeting Jenner & Block.

Four years ago, I published Subtle Tools, a book on the erosion of American democratic norms in the face of what came to be known as the Global War on Terror. Both what had been done in the name of “national security” in response to the 9/11 attacks and how it had been done—through the willing neglect of procedural integrity, the exploitation of all-too-flexible norms, a remarkable disregard for transparency, and a failure to call for accountability of any sort—left the country wide open to even more damaging future abuses of the rule of law.

And—lo and behold!—now, that future is all too distinctly here. What happened in the first quarter of this century is already being weaponized in a startling fashion in the second era of Donald Trump. In fact, the deluge of eye-opening, antidemocratic policies that we’ve witnessed in just the first 50 days of his presidency should be considered nothing short of a perverse escalation of the recent past. Think of it, in fact, as—if you don’t mind my inventing a word for this strange moment of ours—the “perversification” of war-on-terror era law and policy, which might once have been hard to imagine in this country.

While there are already all too many examples of that very sort of perversification, let me just focus on several that could prove crucial when it comes to the future of our imperiled democracy.

Racism

Among the numerous anti-democratic trends of this century, state-sponsored racism has been a constant concern. Of the many low points in the response to 9/11, the unleashing of government policies of racial and ethnic discrimination stands out. Fearing a follow-up attack, law enforcement targeted Muslim Americans, surveilling mosques, and casting a startlingly wide net of suspicion with a sweeping disregard for civil liberties. That approach was only strengthened by the militarization of police forces nationwide in the name of targeting Arabs and Muslims. In 2002, the government even introduced the NSEERS program, a “Special Registration” requirement mandating that all males from a list of 24 Arab and Muslim countries (as well as North Korea) register and be fingerprinted. In the words of the American Civil Liberties Union, the program amounted to “a discriminatory policy that ran counter to the fundamental American values of fairness and equal protection.”

A dangerous template for discrimination based on race, religion, or national origin was thereby set in place. In his first term in office, Donald Trump promptly doubled down on that Islamophobic trend, even though his predecessor, former President Barack Obama, had revoked the registration requirement. By Executive Order 13769, Trump authorized a ban on the entry into the U.S. of citizens from seven Muslim countries, an order that would be reined in somewhat by the courts and finally revoked by then-President Joe Biden.

The discrimination enshrined by federal authorities in law and policy after 9/11 opened the way for a far more widespread governmental embrace of racial and ethnic discrimination now underway.

Nor, in Trump’s first term, was discrimination limited to those from Arab and Muslim countries. As the Costs of War project has pointed out, the Islamophobia of the war on terror years had set a racial-profiling precedent and example for the more broadly racist policies of the first Trump administration. “The exponential surveillance since 9/11 has also intensified the criminalization of marginalized and racialized groups… and has increasingly targeted protest movements such as Black Lives Matter.” Yes, Trump did indeed go after Black Lives Matter protesters with a vengeance during his first term, even unleashing armed federal agents without insignia to tear gas, beat, and detain such protesters in Portland, Oregon.

While Obama would end the Special Registration program and Biden would revoke the Muslim ban, no preventive measures were undertaken to guard against future racist policies and, all too unfortunately, we see the results of that today.

Trump 2.0 has already escalated discriminatory policies, focusing on protecting white males at the expense of people of color and women. In fact, his very first executive orders included several measures cracking down on asylum-seekers and closing off legal avenues to citizenship, as well as a brazen decree aimed at eradicating diversity, equity, and inclusion (DEI) throughout the country. Executive Order 14173 (“Ending Illegal Discrimination and Restoring Merit-Based Opportunity”) was issued on January 21, 2025, the very day he took office. It ordered organizations and entities—from government offices and the U.S. military to schools, businesses, and more—to end their DEI policies “within 120 days” or risk losing government funding.

Recently, making good on its threats, the Trump administration canceled $400 million of federal funding in the form of grants and contracts to Columbia University as a sign of disapproval of that university’s supposed tolerance of pro-Palestinian protests, “described,” as National Public Radio reported, “as the school’s failure to police antisemitism on campus.” Nine other universities are believed to be under similar scrutiny.

Meanwhile, according to The New York Times, Trump is planning to issue a new travel ban, including a “red list” of countries whose citizens will be prohibited from entering the United States and an “orange list” of those whose citizens would, in some fashion, be curtailed if not completely barred from entry. As yet, the specifics remain unknown.

In other words, the discrimination enshrined by federal authorities in law and policy after 9/11 opened the way for a far more widespread governmental embrace of racial and ethnic discrimination now underway.

Disappearing the Record

Secrecy was likewise baked into the government’s response to the war on terror, often to keep what would have been obvious abuses of the law well hidden. Whether it was the use of “enhanced interrogation techniques”—the phrase employed by the administration of former President George W. Bush for acts of straightforward torture—or mass surveillance, the authorization for the targeted killing of an American citizen, or the implementation of other policies that deviated from accepted law and practice, all of that and more was initially kept well hidden from the American public.

Now, many have described the brazen upheavals decreed by the Trump administration as being the very opposite of secrecy—as, in fact, “saying the quiet part out loud.” In reality, however, in these first days of his second term in office, Trump and crew have taken secrecy to a new level, replacing it with a broad policy of erasure and invisibility. In fact, despite the administration’s pledge of “radical transparency” in areas like spending, a hostile onslaught against the written record has prevailed.

This determination to bury the record was apparent during the first Trump administration. He repeatedly asserted his right, for instance, not to document his meetings with Russian leader Vladimir Putin. In 2017, he reportedly confiscated notes that were taken at a meeting with Putin. In 2019, at the G-20 in Buenos Aires, he met Putin without either a translator or a note-taker present. The Washington Post reported, that “U.S. officials said there is no detailed record, even in classified files, of Trump’s face-to-face interactions with the Russian leader at five locations over the past two years.” In other words, on a matter of top national security concern—U.S.-Russian relations—a “cone of seclusion” was created, effectively leaving it to the two presidents to make decisions in secret. (Meanwhile, in his first term in office, Trump allegedly flushed down the toilet certain records relevant to the classified documents case against him.)

In his onslaught against record-keeping and the public’s right to know, the National Archives has become a prime target. Trump’s battle with the archives had its origins in his legal struggle over the classified documents he was alleged to have kept in his possession in violation of the law after his first administration, even supposedly destroying security camera footage taken at Mar-a-Lago that showed boxes of those documents being moved. Now, the president has fired the U.S. archivist, replacing a professional academic with Marco Rubio, despite his duties as secretary of state.

His outright refusal to keep a record of his administration’s activities is also reflected in his insistence that the records of the Department of Government Efficiency (DOGE) fall under the Presidential Records Act, which applies to the records of the president and vice president, and which comes with the guarantee that they can be withheld from the public for up to 12 years after he leaves office. The act also allows for the disposal of records, pending the approval of the national archivist.

In a further example of denying information as a form of politics, Trump’s Office of Professional Management ordered the removal of gender-related content from its websites (as well as the erasure of gender-identifying pronouns from e-mail signatures and an end to all gender-related programs and grants). This led to the removal of pages from the Census.gov website, as well as from the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention and military websites, and the replacement of the acronym LGBTQ+ with LGB. Under court order, some of these webpages have been put back up, even if with this defiant note:

Any information on this page promoting gender ideology is extremely inaccurate and disconnected from the immutable biological reality that there are two sexes, male and female. The Trump administration rejects gender ideology and condemns the harms it causes to children, by promoting their chemical and surgical mutilation, and to women, by depriving them of their dignity, safety, well-being, and opportunities. This page does not reflect biological reality, and therefore the administration and this department rejects it.

In other words, the Trump administration’s claims of legitimacy for its purge of information remain strong. The legacy of state-sanctioned secrecy and a parallel burying of the record, inextricably tied to the post-9/11 era, has already found a secure footing in the second Trump presidency.

Undermining the Courts and the Law

Time and again in the war on terror, the Department of Justice and the courts deferred to the federal government in the name of national security. As a 2021 Brennan Center report noted, national security deference was apparent in decisions not to hear cases due to “states secret” claims, as well as in decisions that prioritized over civil-liberties guarantees and human-rights considerations what government lawyers argued were the constitutionally granted powers of the president in national security matters.

Under Trump, the second time around, it’s already clear that there’s going to be a full-scale assault on the legitimacy of the legal system. Witness the administration’s attacks on judges whose decisions have gotten in the way of his agenda. When a judge ordered the restoration of public health data that had been removed from government websites, he was summarily castigated by Elon Musk as “evil” and someone who “must be fired.” Meanwhile, the Department of Justice has already moved to squelch independent decision-making by immigration court judges, threatening them with nothing short of dismissal should they rule against the president’s prerogatives.

Then there are the attacks on law firms that have opposed Trump. Recently, for instance, security clearances were removed for lawyers at the law firms of Perkins Coie, which represented Hillary Clinton’s campaign in the 2016 election, and Covington Burleigh, which represented Jack Smith, who investigated Trump in the Biden years. Lawyers from those firms were also banned from federal buildings. And don’t forget the all-out attempt to go after officials who investigated and prosecuted January 6 cases.

The idea of an independent Justice Department has been severely damaged, with the promise of so much more to come.

Evading Accountability

More often than not, the significant transformations of law and policy that grew out of the response to 9/11 were relegated to the pages of history with little or no accountability. The Senate, under Sen. Diane Feinstein’s (D-Calif.) leadership, did produce a report on the CIA’s use of torture. It detailed despicable acts of cruelty, and ultimately concluded that such techniques, decreed to be legal by the Department of Justice, were “not an effective means of acquiring intelligence or gaining cooperation from detainees.” And immediately upon taking office in 2009, then-President Barack Obama issued an executive order officially ending the use of torture. But he was decidedly against holding any officials accountable for what had occurred, preferring, as he so memorably put it, to “look forward, not backward.” In addition, Obama refused to call torture a “crime,” labeling it a mistake instead.

Today, in more mundane matters, the distaste for accountability has been institutionalized throughout the government. In his first term in office, Donald Trump dismissed or replaced five inspectors general, officials assigned to departments throughout the executive branch of government to monitor waste, abuse, and fraud. Almost immediately upon taking office this time around, he dismissed “roughly 17” of them. For the moment, Elon Musk’s Department of Government Efficiency, or DOGE, which, from its creation, never included an inspector-general position, is now under review by the Department of Treasury’s inspector general.

Trump’s aversion to accountability clearly reflects a desire to protect his own efforts to totally control executive policy. It should, however, also serve as a striking reminder of the aversion to accountability that followed the legalization and uses of torture in the post-9/11 years, the fabricated decision to go to war in Iraq, the mass surveillance of Americans in that era, and so much more. All of this set in place a grim template for the second Trump era—the notion that no one is ultimately accountable for abusing the law when their actions have been ordered (or simply approved) by the president.

Lessons (Un)learned

Given the magnitude of the most recent antidemocratic actions by Donald Trump and his team, blaming them on the slippery slope created during the war on terror years may seem like a distinct overreach. Yet, given the dangerous excesses we’re now witnessing, it’s worth remembering just how vulnerable the loss of certain norms of legality and accountability in those years left this country—and how sadly little we seem to have learned from that era.

Racism, a lack of deference for the courts, the failure to hold individuals and organizations accountable for informally rewriting the nation’s laws, the pervasive embrace of secrecy, and an unwillingness to erect strict guardrails to prevent the future manipulation of both laws and norms—all those realities of the war on terror years created a distinctly undemocratic template, however different in scale, for this Trumpian moment of ours. An unwillingness to be accountable or to circumvent secrecy during the war on terror led the country straight into today’s quagmire.

Today’s horrific moment should, in fact, be considered—to return to that word of mine one last time—a true perversification of past misdeeds, made all too possible by a failure in the post-9/11 years to take measures to prevent their recurrence.

Robert W. McChesney was a leading voice and a precious colleague in the battle for a more democratic media system, and a more democratic society. Bob passed away on Tuesday, March 24, at the age of 72. No one did more to analyze the negative and censorial impacts of our media and information systems being controlled by giant, amoral corporations.

Bob was a scholar—the Gutgsell endowed professor of communications at University of Illinois—and a prolific author. Each and every book taught us more about corporate control of information. (I helped edit some of his works.)

Particularly enlightening was his 2014 book, Digital Disconnect: How Capitalism Is Turning the Internet Against Democracy—in which McChesney explained in step-by-step detail how the internet that held so much promise for journalism and democracy was being strangled by corporate greed, and by government policy that put greed in the driver’s seat.

That was a key point for Bob in all his work: He detested the easy phrase “media deregulation,” when in fact government policy was actively and heavily regulating the media system (and so many other systems) toward corporate control.

For media activists like those of us at FAIR—whose board McChesney has served on for many years—it was a revelation to read his pioneering 1993 book Telecommunications, Mass Media and Democracy: The Battle for the Control of US Broadcasting, 1928–1935. It examined the broad-based movement in the 1920s and ’30s that sought to democratize radio, which was then in the hands of commercial hucksters and snake-oil salesmen.

From radio to the internet, a reading of his body of work offers a grand and inglorious tour of media history, and how we got to the horrific era of disinfotainment we’re in today.

Bob McChesney was not just a scholar. He was an activist. He co-founded the media reform group Free Press, with his close friend and frequent co-author John Nichols. Bob told me how glad he was to go door to door canvassing for Bernie Sanders’ presidential campaigns. (Bernie wrote the intro to one of McChesney and Nichols’ books.)

Bob was a proud socialist, and a proud journalist—and he saw no conflict between the two. In 1979, he was founding publisher of The Rocket, a renowned publication covering the music scene in Seattle. For years, while he taught classes, he hosted an excellent Illinois public radio show, Media Matters.

In 2011, he and Victor Pickard edited the book Will the Last Reporter Please Turn out the Lights: The Collapse of Journalism and What Can Be Done. One of Bob’s favorite proposals to begin to address the problem of US media (developed with economist Dean Baker) was to provide any willing taxpayer a voucher, so they could steer $200 or so of their tax money to the nonprofit news outlet of their choosing, possibly injecting billions of non-corporate dollars into journalism.

Bob was a beloved figure in the media reform/media activist movement. We need more scholar/activists like him today. He will be sorely missed.

While Elon Musk attacks federal agencies’ ability to protect us from the worst excesses of corporate power, a little known Musk initiative sailed through the Delaware legislature this week. Delaware’s corporate law drew Musk’s ire when its well-regarded Court of Chancery sided with Tesla shareholders and tossed out his $56 billion pay package. Musk packed up his Tesla toys and moved the company’s incorporation to Texas, but his lawyers still pushed Delaware lawmakers to twist the state’s laws to suit his oligarchic interests and give him more power over our lives.

The Delaware House passed Senate Bill 21 (SB 21) on March 25, after the Delaware Senate passed it on March 13. Governor Matt Meyer, who played a central role in the bill’s passage, promptly signed it into law.

Most companies operate under Delaware’s corporate law, with about two-thirds of S&P 500 companies incorporated in the state, and most corporate lawsuits occur in Delaware’s special Court of Chancery. And as corporate interests have eroded many federal tools of corporate accountability—like federal financial, environmental, and worker safety regulations—Delaware corporate law has become one of the last mechanisms of corporate accountability, especially for shareholder lawsuits. Now, as Musk is trying to gut the agencies that enforce federal regulations, state corporate law is poised to become even more important.

Insulating the self-serving decisions of corporate insiders from challenge and gutting the federal agencies and protections that hold corporate power accountable are two sides of the same coin.

Regular shareholders like working peoples’ pensions can bring lawsuits challenging corporate misconduct. But corporate law gives directors and officers broad latitude to make decisions free from liability—even if they are very costly to the corporation and its stakeholders. Courts, however, look more closely at decisions by corporate insiders—including controlling shareholders like Musk, Mark Zuckerberg, and private equity firms that often retain significant stakes in companies after they take them public—when there are conflicts of interest.

The case challenging Musk’s $56 billion Tesla pay package was one of those instances. Upset that a Delaware judge ruled against him in that case, Musk disparaged her and Delaware courts, reincorporated Tesla and SpaceX in Texas, and called on others to do the same.

Corporate insiders convinced Delaware legislators that they were in a hostage situation: Either overhaul their state’s corporate law to give more power to Zuckerberg, private equity firms, and other corporate insiders to everyone else’s detriment by passing SB 21 immediately, or face a mass exodus of corporations and a corresponding slashing of their state budget. Delaware Rep. Madinah Wilson-Anton said, “Our budget is being held hostage and we’re supposed to just listen to the demands, but we have not been told who they’re coming from.”

However, since SB 21 would make it much harder for regular shareholders to hold insiders accountable for their self-serving actions in Delaware courts, many organizations representing regular shareholders have spoken out against the bill, saying its passage would make Delaware less attractive as a state of incorporation. Rep. Wilson-Anton noted: “When we continue to pass bills that are catering to a very small minority of companies that have lost in court and are upset they lost in court, it creates an environment where other companies say, ‘You know what, we’re just gonna stay in our home state because Delaware is just a state where the highest bidder gets to write the law.’” Meanwhile, a recent poll found that only 16% of Delaware voters believe that SB 21 should have passed as is and 63% are less likely to vote for legislators who back SB 21.

Rewriting Delaware corporate law at the behest of Musk and other corporate insiders makes no sense. Insulating the self-serving decisions of corporate insiders from challenge and gutting the federal agencies and protections that hold corporate power accountable are two sides of the same coin. Heads Big Tech oligarchs win, tails the rest of us lose. As the former head of the Office of Information and Regulatory Affairs K. Sabeel Rahman said, “a world without government isn’t a world where we’re not being governed. It’s just we’re being governed in a super undemocratic way.”

When I was an undergraduate, I landed a paid internship that set me on a trajectory to a career in science policy—though of course I didn’t know it at the time. Like many college students, I had no idea what I wanted to do for work.

But my summer with the U.S. Environmental Protection Agency’s Office of Research and Development in North Carolina opened my eyes. The smart, thoughtful federal scientists I worked with were using their scientific expertise to serve the public good. It was a revelation for a student who wanted to choose a path that positively impacted the world.

Already, the global reputation of the United States as a scientific powerhouse, where scientists from countries around the world come to learn and make discoveries freely, is in tatters.

Over the summer, I learned from a team of hard-working people about everything from pesticide research to health effects of air pollution to detecting water quality contamination. In my mentors, I saw their pride in being federal scientists, part of a robust scientific enterprise, and in advancing the public health and environmental mission of the EPA. I observed the tremendous impact they had improving environmental conditions for the nation, all because they chose to devote their expertise to federal service.

And after that experience, and throughout the years of my career at the Union of Concerned Scientists (UCS) and in government, I continued to witness firsthand the incredible impact of the EPA Office of Research and Development in Washington, D.C., and across the country.

What Does the Office Do?

The Research and Development Office is the scientific research arm of the EPA. Its scientists research and communicate the science that serves as the foundation for public health protections for the nation. The office’s work informs decisions on issues that affect our health: from groundbreaking work on the cumulative impacts of pollution on our bodies, to advancing detection and prevention of water and soil pollution, to air quality monitoring and modeling advances, and the integration of climate change and its effects across disciplines.

Despite a long record of world-class research and demonstrated success in its mission, the Trump administration has indicated plans to close the Research and Development Office. But the scientific community won’t stand by while this critical office is at risk of being dismantled.

Earlier this spring, UCS organized and delivered a sign-on letter from 54 scientific societies representing more than 100,000 scientists, demanding that Congress protect and restore life-saving and essential scientific research that benefits families and communities in the U.S.—including the research done by the Research and Development Office.

U.S. Science Is in Danger

The threats to this specific office join a growing list of attacks on federal research activities at large. At the National Institutes of Health (NIH), which conducts medical research and funds such projects at other institutions, measures implemented by the so-called Department of Government Efficiency (DOGE) are hindering federal scientists’ ability to do their jobs within the agency. Cuts to NIH funding for more than 2,500 universities, medical schools, and other research institutions across the country have resulted in canceled clinical trials and studies on diseases, job losses for promising young researchers, and an abrupt end to any research that doesn’t align with the Trump administration’s incoherent preferences.

How amazing, I thought, to be the first to look at a dataset like that, and to have the potential to discover something new that might help us better protect people from harmful pollution.

Cuts to federal funding of academic research are threatening to upend the U.S. university research enterprise and set back the infrastructure and people supporting U.S.-produced science and research by decades. Already, the global reputation of the United States as a scientific powerhouse, where scientists from countries around the world come to learn and make discoveries freely, is in tatters.

Shutting down the research operations of the federal government means closing the door on bright-eyed students like me and other early career researchers, limiting their options in this country (and in many cases, driving them to work abroad). It means missed opportunities to bring young talented scientists into government, creating a brain drain with lasting effects. Shutting down research means chipping away at the scaffolding that upholds federal policy decisions across issue areas, and threatening our ability to make evidence-based policy choices as a nation. And that’s why we cannot allow this to happen.

For Policy Decisions Today and Scientific Progress Tomorrow

As an intern with the EPA Research and Development Office, my project that summer was to analyze air pollution measurements collected in Detroit neighborhoods. The study was intended to help us better understand people’s exposure to air pollution—near roads, in their homes, in the central city, and everywhere in between. How amazing, I thought, to be the first to look at a dataset like that, and to have the potential to discover something new that might help us better protect people from harmful pollution. The sense of wonder I experienced in that lab sparked a personal mission to apply science to help people that has carried me throughout my career.

I think of the wealth of science that’s been produced, the many evidence-based environmental policy decisions made, and the lives saved from air pollution standards in the years since that summer. We’ve come a long way since I was an ambitious young researcher on that tree-covered campus. We can’t give up now. Join us in fighting against these attacks with our Save Science, Save Lives campaign.

“Are you going to comply with that?”

The question came at a bipartisan governors’ meeting, lobbed unceremoniously by U.S. President Donald Trump toward Gov. Janet Mills of Maine. Gov. Mills is one of the few representatives of any political party or institution to defy a recent executive order barring transgender students from women’s sports—and to stand firmly and vocally against the weaponization of Title IX to advance a bigoted, anti-trans agenda.

“I’m complying with the state and federal laws,” she replied. And then—“See you in court.”

Even as we identify and invest in alternate approaches to protecting students from gender-based discrimination, we cannot grant right-wing politicians leeway to weaponize Title IX for their own political gain.

The exchange, though brief, and the rushed and retaliatory federal investigation that followed, echoed far beyond the White House as a rare but critical example of how state, local, and school officials must stand up for students in the absence of adequate federal protections against sex discrimination. And those federal protections have never been adequate.

It is high time to recognize that in practice—and without states and schools moving beyond compliance to true advocacy for their students—Title IX has never offered comprehensive, accessible solutions to gender-based violence. I should know: I’ve experienced Title IX’s failings as a student, an organizer, and a policy advocate working to change how schools treat—and advocate for—survivors.

I was a college student in the Obama years, during what should have been a progressive “golden age” for Title IX, the federal civil rights law prohibiting gender-based discrimination in publicly funded schools. The reality on the ground was marked less by progress than by confusion and chaos. When my peers sought support from our Title IX office, administrators called their reasonable requests for support “too difficult” to address. Without on-campus advocates, nearly 40% of survivors who reported abuse during this period experienced a substantial disruption in their education due to retaliation, institutional betrayal, and being pushed out of schools. Many survivors stayed silent.

When Betsy DeVos gutted Title IX protections during the first Trump administration, I joined the survivor- and youth-led project Know Your IX, where I worked with student activists whose horror stories under the Trump administration’s Title IX rule sounded eerily familiar. Survivors experiencing traumatic investigations dropped out of school—paying off student loans for a degree they would never get. Medical school students chose not to report abuse for fear of losing professional opportunities. Young people who had experienced dating abuse developed new mental health challenges, and their schools refused to grant accommodations. And though Joe Biden won the presidency in 2020, Trump-era guidance on how schools should enforce Title IX persisted throughout nearly the entirety of his presidency. President Trump moved to officially reinstate DeVos-era guidance, after appointing people who have caused sexual harm or been complicit in it (including Secretary of Education Linda McMahon) to the highest positions of power in our country. If it wasn’t already clear, it should be staggeringly so now: We cannot rely on the federal government to save us.

Rather than descend into reactionary advocacy that centers an untrustworthy, increasingly fascist government, we must go above and beyond Title IX, standing up for actionable, lasting solutions to sex-based discrimination in schools. Local organizing at K-12 schools and college campuses led by students and survivors offers one path forward. We can also fight for stronger state anti-discrimination policies that reflect the needs of marginalized students. And we can empower student groups with resources and training to support their peers in the absence of federal or administrative protections.

Most importantly, it is time for schools to take responsibility for protecting their students and act accordingly—regardless of state and federal policy, or how the president decides to interpret the 37 words that make up the statute of Title IX. While federally funded schools are required to comply with Trump’s Title IX rule, they can and should create separate anti-discrimination policies that fill in the gaps of the current Title IX rule. We should encourage schools to go above and beyond what federal law requires to protect students from sexual violence, and respond with care when it occurs.

Of course, in the absence of strong, federal legislation codifying students’ protections and schools’ responsibility to address gender-based discrimination, “sending education back to the states” creates an inequitable patchwork of civil rights protections, resulting in even more students experiencing traumatic disruptions to their education. While investing in school- and state-level organizing, we must build wide networks of support and mutual aid that persist no matter how hostile the environment. Groups like Know Your IX, now a project of the national youth activism organization Advocates for Youth, will continue to organize alongside brilliant and dedicated survivors and student activists holding their schools accountable and fighting for survivor-centered solutions.

Even as we identify and invest in alternate approaches to protecting students from gender-based discrimination, we cannot grant right-wing politicians leeway to weaponize Title IX for their own political gain. We must join Gov. Mills and shout from the rooftops that bigoted, transphobic attempts to attack marginalized young people through education policy will never be a solution to this country’s epidemic of sexual harassment and assault. We must hold strong in the face of increasingly brazen attempts from federal officials to curb students’ rights and retaliate against dissidence. If lawmakers actually cared about women and girls, they would bolster Title IX protections—not attempt to dismantle them.

Title IX was always the floor, not the ceiling. Now, it’s time to aim for the stars. Student survivors, LGBTQI+ youth, and pregnant and parenting people deserve nothing less.