The great question for people who care about the climate is: what now? How do we proceed with the most important fight in the world, when the most important office in the world is about to be filled by a climate denier, and when there’s a Congress with no hope of advancing serious legislation.

One important answer is: We go state by state, and city by city, making gains everywhere we still can. That sounds like small beer—but it’s worth remembering just how big American states are. California is the world’s fifth largest economy, and the energy transition is fully advanced there. Texas is the eighth largest economy—larger than Russia. Things are ripping along there too.

And New York is the 10th largest economy (New York City by itself would be the 12th). That’s bigger than Mexico or Australia or South Korea.

Which is why it’s very exciting news that earlier today the state’s governor, Kathy Hochul, announced that she would sign the so-called “polluter pays” climate superfund bill. Here’s the release from the governor’s office, in which she points out that

With nearly every record rainfall, heatwave, and coastal storm, New Yorkers are increasingly burdened with billions of dollars in health, safety, and environmental consequences due to polluters that have historically harmed our environment. Establishing the Climate Superfund is the latest example of my administration taking action to hold polluters responsible for the damage done to our environment and requiring major investments in infrastructure and other projects critical to protecting our communities and economy.

Activists have been pushing hard for the legislation. Over the last few weeks scores have occupied rooms in the capitol, and about 20 people, a great many of them elder members of Third Act, have been arrested for trespassing around the state Xmas tree—they’ve been singing carols as the cuffs go on. (Campaigners also won a big victory in Albany last week, when Hochul signed a bill that should prevent backdoor attempts at overturning the state’s fracking ban).

I’ve written about this effort before—my home state of Vermont became the first to pass it, earlier this year. But Vermont is… not one of the world’s largest economies. Its attorney general’s office is… small. Against the might of Big Oil, well…

New York’s attorney general, on the other hand, is Letitia James, who has built a reputation for taking on big players. She’s got a giant staff, and she’s not scared of Exxon. Which is important, because Exxon, and its brethren, will have no choice but to fight these laws: they cut too close to the bone. As Inside Climate News explains,

The bill borrows from the federal “polluter pays” principle, which allows the U.S. Environmental Protection Agency to hold companies accountable for releasing pollution into the environment. But it strays from that slightly by applying the concept to manufacturers of fossil fuels, not all air pollution emitters.

Under the superfund act, the world’s largest fossil fuel companies would be required to pay the Empire State billions for the damages caused by their products, raising $75 billion over 25 years. Fees would be allocated according to a company’s share of emissions from 2000 to 2018. By the turn of the millennium, climate science was so well established that “no reasonable corporate actor could have failed to anticipate regulatory action to address its impacts,” lawmakers wrote in the bill.

If you think this would be a slam dunk in New York—which is, after all a blue state with essentially no fossil fuel production—think again.

Business groups have opposed it, and Hochul has been noncommittal—it passed the legislature months ago, but she sat on her hands. Which is why young people, old people, faith leaders, and the like have all descended on the state’s lovely capitol building. Their passion is largely rooted in the climate fight, but the argument is rooted in sheer populist economics. In essence, taxpayers shouldn’t have to pay to rebuild the bridges wrecked by climate change. That should be up the shareholders who have profited so handsomely. (Exxon, Chevron, and Shell had combined profits of $85 billion last year).

If you want to know the backstory, here’s a part of it, from Lee Wasserman of the Rockefeller Family Fund:

The idea for the climate superfund bill was hatched when I was at Fenway watching the Red Sox with an old friend, Rob Plattner, who had been earlier in his career deputy commissioner for policy at the NYS Tax Dept. We were chatting about the climate damages lawsuits and somewhere around the fifth inning we came to the conclusion that it would be totally appropriate for state legislatures to ask for a contribution from the fossil fuel industry to pay for the damage they caused and the adaption costs states will face for decades to come. Polluters paying for the damage they cause is, of course, a highly recognized and supported concept and it seemed particularly apt in the climate context.

We put together a bill initially for NY state when Cuomo was governor but couldn't get his attention before he retreated from the governor's mansion. By then, Biden was in office with his Build Back Better proposal, and I thought it worth a try to get it into the D.C. conversation. It found a lot support, with Van Hollen and Bernie its prime Senate sponsors, and leadership broadly supportive. The federal bill came out of nowhere and made a great deal of progress, but was resigned to a long list of items that would have become law but for Joe Manchin.

So instead they went to the state level, and put together campaigns in six states. Vermont, as I have said, was the first to sign on; with New York on board there is great hope that California, Maryland, Massachusetts, and Minnesota will come next. They’ve found outfront allies in the Public Interest Research Groups or PIRGs (Paul Burns and the Vermont chapter were crucial in the Green Mountain State). Behind the scenes, Fossil Free Media and Jamie Henn have been providing crucial comms work. And I’m very proud of all the Third Actors that stood up, often hand in hand with young activists. (A particular shout out to Michael Richardson and the TA upstate New York chapter; you can read today’s edition of their newsletter here.) In the end it was enough, even to get past Hochul who earned the ire of environmentalists earlier in the year when she (temporarily, as it turns out) nixed congestion pricing in Manhattan to avoid angering suburban motorists.

Hochul signed this bill in part because it doesn’t cost anyone in New York anything. The oil companies have tried to say it will raise gas prices for New Yorkers, but that’s not how the cost of oil works. As the Nobelist Joe Stiglitz pointed out

The specific attributes of the global oil market preclude price increases resulting from the Climate Change Superfund assessments. The price of crude oil is set by the global market, based on the global balance of supply and demand. Individual companies cannot directly raise the price of crude even if it would be in their interest to do so. The price of gasoline at the pump, derived from crude oil, is set by a combination of global crude prices, refining costs, distribution and marketing costs, and local taxes and fees. The Superfund assessment does not impact any of those factors, as it is assessed too far upstream to impact local costs, and is far too small and affects too limited a universe of companies to impact global prices.

You could argue that it’s not the most elegant solution to the problem. But as Liz Krueger, the legislator who really pushed the measure, told The Wall Street Journal over the summer

Look, would I prefer this all be done at the federal level? Yes. But the states have learned over the last few years, we can’t count on the federal government to do these things for us.

It’s possible that Exxon et al will try to get Congress to immunize them from such measures; they’ll certainly be in court arguing that it’s all unfair. But at least initially those will be state courts, under state statutes. (It was Letitia James, remember, who used these tactics to convict President-elect Donald Trump on fraud charges last year).

And now those other states may join in too. The billions begin to add up. This is, more or less, how the states slowly and then quite rapidly took down the tobacco industry. So—many many thanks to the people who but their bodies on the line these past days, and those who have worked so hard for years to get us here. This may be what progress looks like in the Trump years.

12/25/24, 12:00 p.m., Northampton, MA—As I sit to write a brief account of a visit by members of River Valley for Gaza Healthcare to Cooley Dickinson/Mass Brigham Hospital in Northampton, Massachusetts this Christmas morning, a text appears on my phone... perhaps the final words, not even a plea to the outside world this time, of Dr. Husam Abu Safiya, director of Kamal Adwan Hospital, Beit Lahia, sent beyond the confines of Gaza via the internet a half hour earlier:

The hospital is being bombed now. Some of the internal walls have collapsed. The situation is unbearable.

Translation: Israel and its criminal henchmen in the U.S. government appear to have chosen Christmas Day and the first day of Hanukkah, 2024, to finish their 85+-day siege on Kamal Adwan Hospital and all of the human souls within it.

As these horrors unfold at Kamal Adwan, three members of River Valley for Gaza Healthcare arrive, on a brilliantly sunny, cold Christmas morning, at the main entrance of Cooley Dickinson/Mass Brigham Hospital in Northampton, Massachusetts. We have come to stand inside the lobby of the hospital and hold a large banner declaring: "If this hospital were in Gaza, it would be rubble."

(Photo: Nick Mottern)

Our group is working in partnership with a new, national coalition—Doctors Against Genocide—which has called on healthcare providers and consumers to hold vigils for Gaza in hospital lobbies across the country this Christmas Day.

Along with our big banner, we carry flyers for hospital workers encouraging them to reach out to our group to organize with us in solidarity with their colleagues 8,000 miles away. And finally, we have a small Christmas tree adorned with multi-colored balls, and unusual ornaments that, upon close inspection, prove to be photographs of healthcare workers martyred by Israel during its 14-month and counting genocide of the Palestinian people of the Gaza Strip.

(Photo: Nick Mottern)

The hospital lobby is silent and devoid of any human bustle. Carrying our banner, flyers, and tree, we proceed deeper into the building to a second lobby complete with registration desk, grand central staircase, and high ceilings. All of the signs of a well-functioning, fully-funded medical facility are apparent: gleaming surfaces, seasonal decorations, comfortable chairs for visitors and patients, humming elevators, handsomely framed artwork, and signs helpfully indicating the way to various departments.

Still, not a single soul, except for the momentary, whimsical appearance, far down the hall, of a tall figure dressed in a green elf costume and pointy hat. The elf disappears. We take some photos of ourselves with our banner and tree, before walking long hallways to the rear of the building. There, the empty cafeteria, decorated with a glittering tree, nicely spaced tables and chairs, and complete with coffee machines and microwaves, awaits the lunch hour. A kind cafeteria worker greets us, turns lights on for us to take another photo of our banner, and even nods approvingly when she reads it. We leave little stacks of outreach flyers on the cafeteria tables and by the coffee machines.

Finally, we make our way, through still silent, empty halls, to the emergency department. A few people are here, waiting to be seen for various ailments. We offer our little tree to the staff behind the glass partition, and explain the photo ornaments of the martyred Palestinian medics. When we unobtrusively try to take a last photo of our banner, we are immediately told to leave. We put our little tree on a corner table, and, as we make our way out, we see a doctor pick it up and disappear with it. We hope it will at least stir some conversation among the healthcare providers in the emergency department, and perhaps end up in someone's private office.

Outside, we take our last photos, to be used to document our action for Doctors Against Genocide. One in front of a gleaming red and silver ambulance sporting a large wreath (all ambulances in Gaza are bombed, blood-streaked, burned-out hulks), and another beneath the hospital's sign, towering above us near the roof of the building.

What will come of this small action at this well-endowed New England hospital whose CEO, Debra Rogers, has refused to meet with us and declined to make any statement in solidarity with the suffering and dying healthcare workers of Gaza? Our minds and hearts are overwhelmed with what we know is happening, a world away, at Kamal Adwan Hospital, as Dr. Abu Safiya and his heroic co-workers make what may be their final stand against the Israeli-U.S. death machine. How can we reconcile this orderly, peaceful, well-appointed hospital down the road from our homes, with a hospital in north Gaza (not the only one) that is besieged, attacked, blockaded, surrounded by tanks, quadcopters, snipers and troops, mountains of rubble, and starving and injured cats and dogs forced to feed on human corpses? A hospital whose director refuses to leave, despite being offered "safe passage" and the targeted murder, a few weeks ago, of his teenaged son by the Israel Defense Forces because his father refused to leave his post.

What we know is that the silence of the U.S. medical establishment about what is happening in Gaza is nothing short of normalization of genocide and of the deliberate destruction of an entire healthcare system. This is unprecedented even in the history of human warfare. It is being carried out in full view of the world, of governments, of international bodies, in defiance of the Geneva Conventions and humanitarian laws and norms. It is grotesquely, indescribably, unspeakably shameful, sorrowful, angering, and incomprehensible. It reveals the profound taste for evil of those who rule us. It requires revolution.

It’s the most special time of the year: Festivus, when Americans gather by an unadorned pole to vent their grievances. Grievance number one: we’re three days late to this Festivus Special! Ted and Manila, two people paid to kvetch and complain, share their personal and political whines, grouses and rants to a world that’s too busy whining about their own silly worries to pay attention to our all-too-important complaints. Ted and Manila are pissed, and you’re gonna hear about it!

The post TMI Show Ep 44: A TMI Festivus Special first appeared on Ted Rall's Rallblog.

The post TMI Show Ep 44: A TMI Festivus Special appeared first on Ted Rall's Rallblog.

Some 2,000 years ago, an itinerant preacher, Saul of Tarsus, was writing to a wayward congregation in Corinth, Greece. Curiously enough, his words still capture the epochal change that may await us just over history’s horizon. “For now we see in a glass, darkly,” he wrote. “Now I know in part, but then shall I know fully.”

Indeed, mesmerized by a present filled with spellbinding events ranging from elections to wars, we, too, gaze into a darkened glass unable to see how the future might soon unfold before our eyes—a future full of signs that the four empires that have long dominated our world are all crumbling.

Since the Cold War ended in 1990, four legacy empires—those of China, France, Russia, and the United States—have exercised an undue influence over almost every aspect of international affairs. From the soft power of fashion, food, and sports to the hard power of arms, trade, and technology, those four powers have, each in its own way, helped to set the global agenda for the past 35 years. By dominating vast foreign territories, both militarily and economically, they have also enjoyed extraordinary wealth and a standard of living that’s been the envy of the rest of the world. If they now give way in a collective version of collapse, instead of one succeeding another, we may come to know a new world order whose shape is as yet unimaginable.

An Empire Once Called Françafrique

Let’s start with the French neocolonial imperium in northern Africa, which can teach us much about the way our world order works and why it’s fading so fast. As a comparatively small state essentially devoid of natural resources, France won its global power through the sort of sheer ruthlessness—cutthroat covert operations, gritty military interventions, and cunning financial manipulations—that the three larger empires are better able to mask with the aura of their awesome power.

For 60 years after its formal decolonization of northern Africa in 1960, France used every possible diplomatic device, overt and covert, fair and foul, to incorporate 14 African nations into a neo-colonial imperium covering a quarter of Africa that critics called Françafrique. The architect of that post-colonial confection was Jacques Foccart, a Parisian “man of the shadows.” From 1960 to 1997, using 150 agents in the Africa section of the state’s secret service, he managed that neocolonial enterprise as France’s “presidential adviser for Africa,” while cultivating a web of personal connections to presidential palaces across the northern part of that continent.

As part of that postcolonial empire, French paratroopers (among the world’s toughest special forces) shuttled in and out of northern Africa, conducting more than 40 interventions from 1960 to 2002. Meanwhile, more than a dozen client states there shared autocratic leaders shrouded in vivid personality cults, systemic corruption, and state terror. In that way, Paris ensured the tenure of compliant dictators like Omar Bongo, president of the oil-rich country of Gabon from 1967 to 2009. Apart from exporting their raw materials almost exclusively to France, the firm economic foundation for Françafrique lay in a common currency, the CFA franc, which gave the French treasury almost complete fiscal control over its former colonies.

Just last month, the foreign minister of Chad announced that it was time for his country “to assert its sovereignty” by expelling French forces from their last foothold in the Sahel, effectively ending Françafrique after 60 years of neocolonial dominion.

From Paris’ perspective, the aim of the game was the procurement of cut-rate commodities—minerals, oil, and uranium—critical for its industrial economy. To that end, Foccart proved a master of the dark arts, dispatching mercenaries and assassins in covert operations meant to eternally maximize French influence.

The exemplary state in Françafrique was undoubtedly Gabon, then a poor country of just a half-million people rich in forestry concessions, uranium mines, and oil fields. When the country’s first president was being treated for fatal cancer in a Paris hospital in 1967, Foccart manipulated its elections to install Omar Bongo, a French intelligence veteran, who was then only 31.

As political opposition to his corrupt rule intensified in 1971, Foccart’s office dispatched notorious assassin and mercenary Bob Denard. When a key opposition leader arrived home from the movies one night, “Mr. Bob” stepped from the shadows and gunned the man down in front of his wife and child. The Foccart network also secured Bongo’s rule by training the presidential guard and forming a security force to protect French oil facilities there.

Through rigged elections in 1993, 1998, and 2005, Bongo clung to power while French officials enabled his graft, facilitating more than $100 million yearly in illicit payments from France’s leading oil company. When he finally died in 2009, his son Ali-Ben Bongo succeeded him, inheriting 33 luxury properties in France worth $190 million and a country a third of whose population lived in misery on the equivalent of two dollars a day. But in August 2023, after one too many rigged elections, Ali Bongo was finally toppled by a military coup, ending a dynasty that had lasted nearly six decades.

As it turned out, his downfall would be a harbinger for the fate of Françafrique. During the preceding decade, France had deployed some 5,000 elite troops to fight Islamic terrorists in six nations in Africa’s Sahel region, an arid strip of territory extending across the continent just south of the Sahara Desert.

By 2020, however, nationalist consciousness against repeated transgressions of their sovereignty was rising in many of those relatively new countries, putting pressure on French forces to withdraw. As its troops were expelled from Mali, Niger, and Burkina Faso, Russia’s secretive Wagner Group of mercenaries moved in and, by 2023, had become increasingly active there. Just last month, the foreign minister of Chad announced that it was time for his country “to assert its sovereignty” by expelling French forces from their last foothold in the Sahel, effectively ending Françafrique after 60 years of neocolonial dominion.

In those same months, Chad also expelled a U.S. Special Forces training unit, while nearby Niger cancelled U.S. Air Force access to Air Base 201 (which it had built at a cost of $110 million), leaving Russia the sole foreign power active in the region.

Russia’s Fragile Empire

While France’s African imperium was driven by economic imperatives, the revival of Russia’s empire, starting early in this century, has been all about geopolitics. During the last years of the Cold War, from 1989 to 1991, the Soviet Union collapsed, with Moscow losing an empire of seven Eastern European satellite states and 15 “republics” that would become 22 free-market democratic nations.

In 2005, calling the collapse of the Soviet Union the “greatest geopolitical catastrophe of the century,” Russian President Vladimir Putin set about reclaiming parts of the old Soviet sphere—invading Georgia in 2008, when it began flirting with NATO membership; deploying troops in 2020-2021 to resolve a conflict between Armenia and Azerbaijan; and dispatching thousands of Russian special forces to Kazakhstan in central Asia in 2022 to gun down pro-democracy protesters challenging a loyal Russian ally.

Moscow’s main push, however, was into the old Soviet sphere of Eastern Europe, where, after a rigged election in 2020, Putin backed Belarus strongman Alexander Lukashenko in crushing the democratic opposition, making Minsk a virtual client state. Meanwhile, he pressed relentlessly against Ukraine after the ouster of his loyal surrogate there in the 2014 Maidan “color revolution” — first seizing Crimea, then arming separatist rebels in the eastern Donbas region adjacent to Russia, and finally invading the country with nearly 200,000 troops in 2022.

If Senator John McCain was right when, in 2014, he called Russia “a gas station masquerading as a country,” then the rapid switch to alternative energy across Eurasia could, within a decade, rob Moscow of the finances for further adventures.

But perhaps Putin’s boldest move was a little-understood geopolitical flanking maneuver against NATO, played out across two continents. Starting in 2015, Moscow hopped over the NATO barrier of Turkey by setting up a naval base and an airfield in northern Syria and began a bombing campaign that would soon reduce cities like Aleppo to rubble to keep its ally, President Bashar al-Assad, in power in Damascus. In 2021, Moscow skipped over another U.S. ally, Israel, and began supplying Egypt with two dozen of its advanced Sukhoi-35 jet fighters so its airmen could compete with Israelis flying American F-35s. Completing Russia’s push into the region, Putin built upon shared interests as oil exporters to befriend Saudi Arabia’s uncrowned leader, Prince Mohammed bin Salman.

Using his Syrian bases as a springboard, his final geopolitical gambit was a pivot across North Africa from Sudan to Mali conducted covertly by a notorious crew of Russian mercenaries called the Wagner Group.

In recent weeks, however, Putin’s geopolitical construct suffered a serious blow when rebels suddenly swept into Damascus, sending Syrian leader Bashar al-Assad fleeing to Moscow and ending his family’s more than 50 years in power. After suffering a stunning 700,000 casualties and the loss of 5,000 armored vehicles in three years of constant warfare in Ukraine, Russia had simply stretched its geopolitical reach too far and no longer had sufficient aircraft to defend Assad. In fact, there are signs that Russia is pulling out of its Syrian bases and so losing a key pivot for power projection in the Mediterranean and northern Africa.

Meanwhile, as NATO Secretary-General Mark Rutte condemned the “escalating campaign of Russia’s hostile actions” and its attempt to “crush our freedom and way of life,” Western Europe began ramping up its defense industries and cutting its economic ties to Russia. If Senator John McCain was right when, in 2014, he called Russia “a gas station masquerading as a country,” then the rapid switch to alternative energy across Eurasia could, within a decade, rob Moscow of the finances for further adventures, reducing Russia, now also harried by economic sanctions, to a distinctly secondary regional power.

The Limits of China’s Power

For the past 30 years, China’s transformation from a poor peasant society into an urban industrial powerhouse has been the single most dramatic development in modern history. Indeed, its relentless rise as the planet’s top industrial power has given it both international economic influence and formidable military power, exemplified by a trillion-dollar global development program and the world’s largest navy. Unlike the other empires of our era that have expanded via overseas bases and military intervention, China has only acted militarily on contiguous territory—invadingTibet in the 1950s, claiming the South China Sea during the past decade, and endlessly maneuvering (ever more militarily) to subdue Taiwan. Had China’s unprecedented annual growth rate continued for another five years, Beijing might well have attained the means to become the globe’s preeminent power.

But there are ample signs that its economic juggernaut may have reached its limits under a Communist command-economy. Indeed, it now appears that, in clamping an ever-tighter grip on Chinese society by pervasive surveillance, the Communist Party may be crippling the creativity of its talented citizenry.

Should Beijing launch a war on Taiwan, whether to fulfill its promise or distract its people from growing economic problems, the result could prove catastrophic.

After a rapid 10-fold expansion in university education that produced 11 million graduates by 2022, China’s youth unemployment suddenly doubled to 20% and continued climbing to 21.3% a year later. In a panic, Beijing manipulated its statistical methods to produce a lower figure and began fabricating numbers to conceal a youth unemployment rate that may already have reached 30% or even 40%. The potential power of youth to break the hold of the communist state was evident in November 2022, when protests against zero-Covid lockdowns erupted in at least 17 cities across China, with countless thousands of youths chanting, “Need human rights, need freedom,” and calling for President Xi Jinping and the Communist Party to “step down.”

The country’s macroeconomic statistics are growing ever grimmer as well. After decades of rip-roaring growth, its gross domestic product, which peaked at 13%, has recently slumped to 4.6%. Adding to its invisible economic crisis, by 2022 the country’s 31 provinces had shouldered crippling public debts that, The New York Times reported, reached an extraordinary “$9.5 trillion, equivalent to half the country’s economy,” and some 20 major cities have since leaped into the abyss by spending wildly to give the economy a pulse. Seeking markets beyond its flagging domestic economy, China, which already accounted for 60% of global electric vehicle purchases, is launching a massive export drive for its cut-rate electric cars which is about to crash headlong into rising tariff walls globally.

Even China’s daunting military may be a bit of a paper tiger. After years of cloning foreign weapons, Beijing’s arms exports have reportedly dropped in recent years after buyers found them technologically inferior and unreliable on the battlefield. And keep in mind that, even as its military technology has continued to advance, China hasn’t fought a war in nearly 50 years.

Nonetheless, President Xi keeps promising the Chinese people that Taiwan’s reunification with “the motherland is a historical inevitability.” However, should Beijing launch a war on Taiwan, whether to fulfill its promise or distract its people from growing economic problems, the result could prove catastrophic. Its inexperience with combined arms—the complex coordination of air, sea, and land forces—could lead to disastrous losses during any attempted amphibious invasion, and even a victory could do profound damage to its export economy.

The End of the American Century

When it comes to that other great imperial force on Planet Earth, let’s face it, Donald Trump’s second term is likely to mark the end of America’s near-century as the world’s preeminent superpower. After 80 years of near-global hegemony, there are arguably five crucial elements necessary for the preservation of U.S. world leadership: robust military alliances in Asia and Europe, healthy capital markets, the dollar’s role as the globe’s reserve currency, a competitive energy infrastructure, and an agile national security apparatus.

However, surrounded by sycophants and suffering the cognitive decline that accompanies aging, Trump seems determined to exercise his untrammeled will above all else. That, in turn, essentially guarantees the infliction of damage in each of those areas, even if in different ways and to varying degrees.

By the time Trump retires (undoubtedly to accolades from his devoted followers), he will have compressed two decades of slow imperial decline into a single presidential term, effectively ending Washington’s world leadership significantly before its time.

America’s unipolar power at the end of the Cold War era has, of course, already given way to a multipolar world. Previous administrations carefully tended the NATO alliance in Europe, as well as six overlapping bilateral and multilateral defense pacts in the sprawling Indo-Pacific region. With his vocal hostility toward NATO, particularly its crucial mutual-defense clause, Trump is likely to leave that alliance significantly damaged, if not eviscerated. In Asia, he prefers to cozy up to autocrats like China’s Xi or North Korea’s Kim Jong-un instead of cultivating democratic allies like Australia or South Korea. Add to that his conviction that such allies are freeloaders who need to pay up and America’s crucial Indo-Pacific alliances are unlikely to prosper, possibly prompting South Korea and Japan to leave the U.S. nuclear umbrella and become thoroughly independent powers.

Convinced above all else of his own “genius,” Trump seems destined to damage the key economic components of U.S. global power. With his inclination to play favorites with tariff exemptions and corporate regulation, his second term could give the term “crony capitalism” new meaning, while degrading capital markets. His planned tax cuts will add significantly to the federal deficit and national debt, while degrading the dollar’s global clout, which has already dropped significantly in the past four years.

In defiance of reality, he remains wedded to those legacy energy sources: coal, oil, and natural gas. In recent years, however, the cost of electricity from solar and wind power has dropped to half that of fossil fuels and is still falling. For the past 500 years, global power has been synonymous with energy efficiency. As Trump tries to stall America’s transition to green energy, he’ll cripple the country’s competitiveness in countless ways, while doing ever more damage to the planet.

Nor do his choices for key national security posts bode well for U.S. global power. If confirmed as defense secretary, Peter Hegseth, a Fox News commentator with a track record of maladministration, lacks the experience to begin to manage the massive Pentagon budget. Similarly, Trump’s choice for director of national intelligence, Tulsi Gabbard, has no experience in that highly technical field and seems prone to the sort of conspiracy theories that will cloud her judgment when it comes to accurate intelligence assessments. Finally, the nominee for FBI director, Kash Patel, is already promising to punish the president’s domestic critics rather than pursue foreign agents through counterintelligence, the bureau’s critical responsibility.

By the time Trump retires (undoubtedly to accolades from his devoted followers), he will have compressed two decades of slow imperial decline into a single presidential term, effectively ending Washington’s world leadership significantly before its time.

A New World Order?

So, you might ask, if those four empires do crumble or even collapse, what comes next? The forces of change are so complex that I doubt anyone can offer a realistic vision of the sort of world order (or disorder) that might emerge. But it does seem as if we are indeed approaching a historical watershed akin to the end of World War II or the close of the Cold War, when an old order fails with utter finality and a new order, whether redolent with promise or laden with menace, seems inevitable.

This week, The New York Times reported that the U.S. government made war in Afghanistan while helping to “recruit, train, and pay for lawless bands of militias that pillaged homes and laid waste to entire communities.” Those militias “tortured civilians, kidnapped for ransom, massacred dozens in vendetta killings, and razed entire villages, sowing more than a decade of hatred toward the Afghan government and its American allies.”

Written by a former Kabul bureau chief for the Times, the article appeared under a headline saying that “U.S.-backed militias” in Afghanistan were “worse than the Taliban.”

Now they tell us.

The new reporting made me think of a chapter in my book War Made Invisible titled “Now It Can Be Told.” Here’s an excerpt:

* * * * *

Timing is crucial in media and politics—and never more so than when war is at stake. It’s completely unsatisfactory for journalists to toe the war line for years and then finally report, in effect: Now it can be told—years too late.

Virtually the entire U.S. media establishment gave full-throated support to the U.S. attack on Afghanistan in early October 2001. Twenty years later, many of the same outlets were saying the war was ill-conceived and doomed from the start.

Immediately after the invasion of Iraq began in March 2003, with very few exceptions, even the mainstream news organizations that had been expressing trepidation or opposition swung into line to support the war effort. Two decades later, many of the same media outlets were calling the invasion of Iraq the worst U.S. foreign-policy blunder in history.

A pattern of regret (not to say repentance or remorse) emerged from massive U.S. outlays for venture militarism that failed to triumph in Afghanistan and Iraq, but there is little evidence that the underlying repetition compulsion disorder has been exorcized.

But such framing evades the structural mendacity that remains built into the military-industrial complex, with its corporate media and political wings. War is so normalized that its casualties, as if struck by acts of God, are routinely viewed as victims without victimizers, perhaps no more aggrieved than people suffering the consequences of bad weather.

What American policymakers call mistakes and errors are, for others, more aptly described with words like catastrophes and atrocities. Attributing the U.S. wars to faulty judgment—not premeditated and hugely profitable aggression—is expedient, setting the policy table for supposed resolve to use better judgment next time rather than challenging the presumed prerogative to attack another country at will.

When the warfare in Afghanistan finally ended, major U.S. media—after avidly supporting the invasion and then the occupation—were awash in accounts of how the war had been badly run with ineptitude or deception from the White House and the Pentagon. Some of the media analysis and commentaries might have seemed a bit sheepish, but news outlets preferred not to recall their prior support for the same war in Afghanistan that they were now calling folly.

A pattern of regret (not to say repentance or remorse) emerged from massive U.S. outlays for venture militarism that failed to triumph in Afghanistan and Iraq, but there is little evidence that the underlying repetition compulsion disorder has been exorcized from America’s foreign-policy leadership or major news media, let alone its political economy. On the contrary: the forces that have dragged the United States into an array of wars in numerous countries still retain enormous sway over foreign and military affairs. For those forces, over time, shape-shifting is essential, while the warfare state continues to rule.

The fact that strategies and forms of intervention are evolving, most conspicuously in the direction of further reliance on airpower rather than ground troops, makes the victims of the USA’s firepower even less visible to American eyes. This presents a challenge to take a fresh look at ongoing militarism and insist that the actual consequences for people at the other end of U.S. weaponry be exposed to the light of day—and taken seriously in human terms.

Despite all that has happened since President George W. Bush vowed in mid-September 2001 to “rid the world of the evil-doers,” pivotal issues have been largely dodged by dominant U.S. media and political leaders. The toll that red-white-and-blue militarism takes on other countries is not only a matter of moral principles. The United States is also in jeopardy.

That we live in one interdependent world is no longer debatable. Illusions about American exceptionalism have been conclusively refuted by the global climate emergency and the Covid-19 pandemic, along with the ever-present and worsening dangers of thermonuclear war. On a planet so circular in so many ways, what goes around comes around.

Friends,

The holidays provide an apt time to pause and assess where we are.

You have every reason to be worried about what happens after January 20. Many people could be harmed.

Yet I continue to have an abiding faith in the common sense and good-heartedness of most Americans, despite the outcome of the election.

Many traditional Democratic voters did not vote — either because they were upset about the Biden administration’s support for Benjamin Netanyahu or they were unmoved by Kamala Harris. Others chose Trump because their incomes have gone nowhere for years and they thought the system needed to be “shaken up.”

An explanation is not a justification.

There have been times when I doubted America. I think the worst was 1968, with the assassinations of Martin Luther King Jr. and then Bobby Kennedy, the riots and fires that consumed our cities, the horrific Democratic convention in Chicago along with protests and violent police response, the election of the dreadful Nixon, and the escalating carnage of Vietnam.

It seemed to me then that we had utterly lost our moral compass and purpose.

But the Watergate hearings demonstrated to me that we had not lost it. Democrats and Republicans worked together to discover what Nixon had done.

I had much the same feeling about the brilliant work done by the House’s special committee to investigate January 6, 2021, including chair Bennie Thompson and vice chair Liz Cheney.

I think it important not to overlook the many good things that happened under the Biden-Harris administration — the most aggressive use of antitrust and most pro-union labor board I remember, along with extraordinary legislative accomplishments.

When I think about what’s good about America, I also think about the jurors, the prosecutors, and the judge in Trump’s trial in Manhattan, who took extraordinary abuse. Their lives and the lives of their families were threatened. But they didn’t flinch. They did their duty.

I think about our armed services men and women. Our firefighters and police officers. Our teachers and social workers. Our nurses who acted with such courage and dedication during the pandemic. I think about all the other people who are putting in countless hours in our cities and towns and states to make our lives better.

A few days ago, I ran into an old friend who’s spending the holidays running a food kitchen for the unhoused.

“How are you?” she asked, with a big smile.

“Been better,” I said.

“Oh, you’re still in a funk over the election,” she said. “Don’t worry! We’ll do fine. There’s so much work to do.”

“Yes, but Trump is …”

She stopped me, her face turning into a frown. “Nothing we can do about him now, except get ready for his regime. Protect the people who’ll be hurt.”

“You’re right.”

After a pause she said, “We had to come to this point, you know.”

“What do you mean?”

“Biden couldn’t get done nearly enough. The reactionary forces have been building for years. They’re like the pus in an ugly boil.”

“That’s the worst metaphor I’ve heard!” I laughed.

“The boil is on our collective ass,” she continued, laughing along with me. “And the only way we get up enough courage to lance the boil is for it to get so big and so ugly and so mean that no one can sit down!”

“I don’t know whether you’re an optimist or a pessimist,” I said, still laughing.

“Neither,” she explained, turning serious. “A realist. I’ve had it with wishy-washy Democratic ‘centrists.’ A few years of the miserable Trump administration and we can get back to the real work of the country.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“And now I have to get back to work. Lots of people to feed! Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukah, Happy New Year!”

With that, she was gone.

So, there it stands in your living room—the crown jewel of December. Your Christmas tree, dressed to the nines in ornaments that range from genuinely lovely to “why do we still have this macaroni abomination from 1997?” Beneath it, gifts for loved ones and a few hastily wrapped “emergency backups” for people you forgot about until yesterday. It’s not just a tree; it’s the spirit of the season—a symbol of hope, renewal, and festivity.

But halfway across the world, another tree tells a far grittier, far less sparkly story. The olive tree. For Palestinians, this tree doesn’t glitter—it sustains. Its fruit isn’t decorative—it’s dinner. And while it doesn’t cradle stockings or fairy lights, it carries something heavier: the survival of families who’ve relied on its branches for generations.

A Season of Loss (and Rage)

Picture this: You arrive at your family’s olive grove in the West Bank, expecting to gather the fruit of months of labor. Instead, you find the trees—some hundreds of years old—hacked to the ground. These weren’t just trees; they were ancestors, livelihoods, the living heart of your family history. Each stump is an act of violence, as if someone took a chainsaw to your roots.

This holiday season, why not let your generosity extend beyond your living room? Support organizations like Treedom for Palestine, Development in Gardening, or Grassroots International.

This isn’t vandalism––it’s strategy. Uprooting olive trees is a brutal tool in the ongoing effort to displace Palestinian families from the land they’ve farmed for centuries. This year alone, settlers have destroyed more than 4,000 trees. Armed settlers patrol the land, while IDF soldiers turn a blind eye—or worse, assist. Two farmers were killed during the olive harvest including a 50-year-old woman shot by an Israeli soldier whilst tending her trees.

If you’re outraged, good. You should be. But rage alone isn’t enough to counter despair.

There’s also hope.

Planting as Protest

In 2018, Motaz Bsharat knelt in his field and planted 250 olive trees. But he wasn’t just planting—he was envisioning a future. His grove—fenced, irrigated, and fortified—became the first Freedom Farm. Today, there are 70 Freedom Farms across the West Bank, each a living testament to resilience.

This year, Motaz harvested his first full crop: 500 kilograms of olive oil, valued at $10,000. Next year, that yield will double. But this isn’t just an economic success. It’s proof—proof that even in a land scarred by violence, life persists.

The Freedom Farms are thriving, but the destruction hasn’t stopped. Since the occupation began, 2.5 million olive trees have been destroyed. Each tree uprooted is a scar on the land and its people. And yet, the farmers remain. They plant. They rebuild. They endure.

The Humble Hero

Olive trees are miracles of nature. They thrive in arid soil, resist drought, and live for centuries, bearing fruit for generations. They sequester carbon and sip water sparingly. In so many ways, they’re a Christmas tree for Palestinians: symbols of hope and renewal.

In response to the settler violence this year, Treedom for Palestine launched its 4,000 Strong Campaign to replace every olive tree destroyed this year by settlers. These new groves are more than replacements—they’re fortified Freedom Farms, designed to withstand violence and flourish under the harshest conditions.

Planting a tree in Palestine is not just reforestation. It’s reclamation. Each sapling declares: We are still here.

Deck the Halls, Plant The Fields

As you sit by your Christmas tree, marveling at its glow and wondering whether you really needed a third slice of pie (you did), spare a thought for the olive tree. For Palestinian families, it’s more than a decoration—it’s their lifeline, their anchor, their inheritance.

This holiday season, why not let your generosity extend beyond your living room? Support organizations like Treedom for Palestine, Development in Gardening, or Grassroots International. Every tree planted isn’t just a tree—it’s a promise. A promise that families will stay rooted, that livelihoods will be rebuilt, and that peace might actually take root one day.

This Christmas Day, while the world pauses to celebrate, Treedom for Palestine will do what it does best: plant. Instead of carols and candlelight, three new Freedom Farms—750 olive trees—will take root in the West Bank. These aren’t just trees; they’re acts of quiet defiance and faith in prosperity and peace, each one declaring: We are still here. Until peace takes root, we’re holding a space for it.

Because like the Christmas tree, the olive tree is a savior tree—but one that doesn’t just light up for a season. It lights the way for generations. By planting this holy tree in the Holy Land at a time like this, it’s not just the tree we’re saving.

U.S. President Joe Biden’s recent clemency grants to 1,500 Americans sparked renewed discussions about second chances.

Yet for millions of parents—mothers and fathers—the shackles of their past legal convictions extend far beyond their time served. The collateral consequences of a criminal record don’t just haunt individuals. They ripple through families, shaping the lives of children who had no part in their parents’ mistakes.

As someone who has traversed the lasting consequences of a conviction, I know firsthand how society judges parents like me—not by the love and care we provide our children but by the labels of our past. But when we reduce people to their convictions, we fail to see their humanity, their potential, and the harm this judgment causes not just to them but to their families.

The collateral consequences of a criminal conviction aren’t just abstract statistics—they’re the missed field trips, the lost jobs, the countless times parents must tell their children, “I’m sorry, but I can’t.”

Around 77 million Americans, or one in three Americans, have criminal records, according to the National Conference of State Legislatures. Each year, more than 600,000 Americans are released from prison and reenter society. It is a transition rife with barriers of injustice, prejudice, racism, and inequality.

The United States has more than 44,000 laws and policies that restrict people with criminal convictions from accessing basic rights and opportunities. These rules create barriers to housing, employment, education, and even parenting. For mothers and fathers, the inability to rebuild their lives post-incarceration isn’t just a personal struggle—it’s a family crisis.

One of the most painful moments after my conviction was realizing I couldn’t chaperone my 13-year-old daughter’s eighth grade field trip because of my record. Telling her I wasn’t allowed to go broke something inside me.

For parents like me, these moments happen all the time—when we can’t volunteer at school, rent an apartment near better schools, or secure a job that provides stability. To our children, it feels like rejection.

One report estimates that the number of children with incarcerated parents ranges from 1.7 to 2.7 million. Research shows these children are more likely to face emotional, behavioral, and academic challenges. They’re often treated as if their parent’s conviction is their fault. This stigma perpetuates cycles of poverty and marginalization, making it harder for families to break free from systemic barriers.

Beyond the personal pain, the statistics paint a bleak picture. According to the Prison Policy Initiative, nearly 70% of formerly incarcerated individuals are unemployed or underemployed a year after release. For parents, this means struggling to provide even the basics for their children.

Women are particularly vulnerable, with many returning to find their housing options limited because public housing policies exclude people with records. Fathers, too, often face obstacles in reestablishing their parental rights or even being present in their children’s lives due to parole restrictions and ongoing stigma.

These systemic barriers serve as a constant reminder that, in the eyes of society, those with records are defined by their convictions. It’s as though the world has dog eared a page from their worst chapter, refusing to read further.

To be sure, accountability matters. Parents who commit harm must take responsibility for their actions. But accountability must not equate to a lifetime of condemnation. Punishing parents indefinitely only compounds harm, especially for the children who depend on them for stability and love.

Parents are more than their past mistakes, just as a book is more than its cover. Judging someone solely by their record robs them of the chance to write a better chapter. It also robs their children of the opportunity to see their parents as whole people—flawed but capable of change and love.

The collateral consequences of a criminal conviction aren’t just abstract statistics—they’re the missed field trips, the lost jobs, the countless times parents must tell their children, “I’m sorry, but I can’t.”

If we truly value redemption as a society, we must move beyond judging people solely by their convictions.

Every parent deserves the chance to show their children that they are more than their past. And every child deserves the opportunity to believe in second chances. Clemency relies on laws, policies, pardons, and humanity.

Cities have been hollowed out in the aftermath of the COVID-19 pandemic and the rise of working at home. As office buildings emptied out, urban dwellers were asking themselves why they were paying so much rent to commute to a job that no longer requires them to do so. As warm apartments and storefronts sit empty, there’s probably never been a more searing indictment of capitalism than the fact that American citizens continue to sleep outside in the cold.

The post Born To Kill first appeared on Ted Rall's Rallblog.

The post Born To Kill appeared first on Ted Rall's Rallblog.

In the 1990s, all the talk was about the end of socialism and the unchallenged military and economic superiority of the United States. Nonetheless, two decades later, socialism was revived as a possible political alternative as the Great Recession of 2008 and the intensification of neoliberalism’s cruelties tore a huge hole in people’s faith in capitalism, especially among young people in the United States whose hearts had been captured by Sen. Bernie Sanders’ fiery calls for universal healthcare, free public college, and economic and climate justice. Socialism remains a political alternative taken seriously by many across the United States although its vision is still far away from becoming a hegemonic political project.

However, there are different kinds of socialism, and some of them, such as social democracy and market socialism, seek reform rather than the actual replacement of capitalism. On the other hand, the Soviet model, which is the only version of socialism that gave birth to an alternative socioeconomic system to that of capitalism, had many undesirable features and proved unsustainable.

So what would be the ideal system of socialism in the 21st century? In the interview that follows, radical economist David Kotz dissects the lessons drawn from the experience of the Soviet model, explains why reforming capitalism does not solve the problems built into the system of capitalism, and makes a case in defense of democratic socialism as the only sustainable alternative to capitalism. David Kotz is the author of The Rise and Fall of Neoliberal Capitalism and of the soon-to-be-published book Socialism for Today: Escaping the Cruelties of Capitalism. He is professor emeritus of economics and senior research fellow at the Political Economy Research Institute (PERI) at the University of Massachusetts Amherst. From 2010-19, Kotz also served as distinguished professor of economics and co-director of the department of political economy at the Shanghai University of Finance and Economics.

C.J. Polychroniou: David, in a soon-to-be-published book titled Socialism for Today, you make the case that democratic socialism is the only alternative to the long list of severe problems (massive social inequalities and economic disparities, environmental degradation, racism, poverty, homelessness, and so on) that plague the United States under capitalism. Now, you acknowledge that a shift to a radically different economic system would be a difficult and costly process but also maintain that the problems mentioned above cannot be solved by reforming capitalism. What do you understand by the term “reform of capitalism,” and do you think all struggles to reform capitalism have ultimately failed?

David Kotz: By reform of capitalism, we generally mean the introduction of institutions and policies that modify the way the system works but without replacing its core features—private ownership of the means of production, the wage-labor relation, and the pursuit of profit by the capitalist class as the basic logic of the system. Since the end of World War II, we have seen two types of reform of capitalism. First, the type of reform that emerged in the industrialized countries after the Second World War and came to be called regulated capitalism or social democratic capitalism and, second, the unrestrained version of capitalism that emerged in the 1980s and has been nothing short of a disaster.

Social democratic capitalism included a more active role for government in the economy, a major role for unions in the capital-labor relation, and changes in the way corporations conduct their businesses. Reforming capitalism along a social democratic line was a process that had started before World War II, thanks to the rise of working-class politics and the fact that socialist parties, in some cases, rose to power. But big business and its political representatives also went along out of fear that capitalism might not survive the political pressures from below without reforms. Sweden led the way to social democratic capitalism in the 1930s, but reform capitalism also spread to other parts of Western Europe after the end of the Second World War. In the United States, reform capitalism took place with Roosevelt’s New Deal policies on account of the Great Depression and had many common features with European social democracy.

"Full equality is antithetical to the logic and functioning of capitalism. A capitalist economy cannot work without exploiting workers."

Regulated capitalism in the United States produced many benefits for working people. Starting in the early 1950s, labor productivity went up, wages increased, and income inequality remained relatively stable. By the late 1960s, regulated capitalism also led to major improvements in air and water quality and in occupational safety and health. Those regulations were passed under pressure from a broad coalition of environmental activists, consumer product safety activists, and labor unions. People of color also advanced in economic opportunities. Nonetheless, while regulated capitalism created favorable conditions for making progress toward social, economic, and racial equality, full equality remained a chimera. The empirical evidence suggests that racial/ethnic equality and gender equality can be reduced through political and economic struggle but cannot be eliminated. Full equality is antithetical to the logic and functioning of capitalism. A capitalist economy cannot work without exploiting workers. The improvements made by regulated capitalism were indeed limited and did not resolve all the problems generated by capitalism. Unions had to make major concessions to secure agreements for the reforms from the powerful business interests. The official poverty rate declined over the period of the duration of regulated capitalism, but deep pockets of poverty remained in many parts of the country. The imperialist drive of capitalism also was not tamed in postwar regulated capitalism, and capitalist democracies remained only partially democratic as wealthy individuals and large corporations remained politically powerful.

The biggest problem with regulated capitalism is that it is simply not sustainable in the long run. Why? Because it generates a powerful drive on the part of capitalists to resist restriction in the pursuit of the maximization of profit, which is what capitalism is all about. Capitalism has always faced periodic economic crises. When such crises occur, capitalists will grab the opportunity to overthrow regulated capitalism. This is what happened in the 1970s, and regulated capitalism gave way to a decade of accelerating inflation and a severe business cycle. The neoliberal reforms of capitalism in the early 1980s were born out of the inability of regulated capitalism to persist and bring long-term stability.

C.J. Polychroniou: OK, but since the aim seems to be full equality and the absence of exploitation from human affairs, the argument can also be rather easily made that 20th-century efforts to build a full-fledged socialist alternative to capitalism also failed. Isn’t that so?

David Kotz: There were two types of post-capitalist systems that emerged from efforts to move beyond capitalism. One was the Soviet model that emerged after the Bolshevik revolution in 1917. The second was market socialism that surfaced following the collapse of the Soviet model. Neither type succeeded in building a sustainable alternative system. But let me focus on the first type since it did abolish capitalism and build an alternative system. The Soviet model, which spread to many other countries around the world, though with some variations, relied initially on an institution called “soviets,” elected by workers, peasants, soldiers, and sailors. It was supposed to be the supreme authority in the new social and political order. But soon after the revolution, the Bolshevik party established a repressive regime that did not tolerate dissent. After Lenin’s death in 1924, Joseph Stalin became the top leader of the Soviet Union. He established a brutal dictatorship that went on to eliminate much of the leadership that had made the revolution.

Under the Soviet model, all enterprises were owned by the state and allocation decisions were made by a highly centralized and hierarchical form of economic planning. Five-year and one-year plans were formulated for the entire country. Enterprises were given target outputs and provided with the inputs and labor time needed to produce them. Enterprise decision-makers did not aim for maximum profit. There were markets in the Soviet model in the sense that people bought consumer goods in stores and workers decided on jobs in the labor market. However, buying and selling in the Soviet economy did not generate “market forces.” Market forces refers to a system in which relative profitability determines which products will get additional inputs and which will be cut back. Thus, market exchange took place, but the system was not guided by market forces.

Centralized economic planning transformed the Soviet economy from a backward agricultural economy to an industrialized economy in record time. In just a couple of decades, an industrial base was built that allowed the Soviet Union to produce military hardware that was key to the defeat of Nazi Germany. Between the 1950-70s, the Soviet economy was growing so fast that Western analysts were afraid that it would soon surpass the leading capitalist economies. The Soviet model transformed the lives of the Soviet people for the better in many measurable ways. Between 1950 and 1975, consumption per person in the Soviet Union grew faster than in the U.S. By the 1980s, Soviet production surpassed that of the U.S. in steel, cement, metal-cutting and metal-forming machines, wheat, milk, and cotton. It had more doctors and hospital beds per capita than the United States. There was continuous full employment, stable prices, and no ups and downs of the business cycle, while income was relatively equally distributed.

However, the system had serious economic problems. Many sectors of the economy were inefficient, many consumer goods were of low quality, and many consumer services were simply unavailable. Households often faced shortages of consumer goods.

C.J. Polychroniou: In thinking then about a sustainable alternative system to capitalism, what do we keep from the experience of the Soviet model?

David Kotz: As I sought to indicate earlier, the Soviet model brought significant economic and social progress for some 60 years. In my view, the problems of the Soviet model stemmed from its authoritarian and repressive political institutions and the highly centralized form of economic planning that was adopted. But while the Soviet model lacked popular democracy, it did include the key institutions that socialists have long supported: production for use rather than profit, public ownership of enterprises, and a planned economy. The entire experience of the Soviet model holds useful and important lessons for a future socialism.

C.J. Polychroniou: What about market socialism? What lessons should we draw from that experience?

David Kotz: The idea of combining market allocation with socialist planning has a long history. New models of market socialism were proposed following the collapse of the Soviet model in 1991. The hope was that markets would guarantee economic efficiency while a socialist state assured economic justice and material security. Market socialism did not emerge in Russia after the collapse of state socialism, but it did emerge in China after 1978 under the post-Mao leadership of Deng Xiaoping. In China, market forces were introduced gradually and with a high degree of state oversight to avoid economic chaos. The record shows that market socialism not only reproduced many of the problems of capitalism but has a tendency to promote a return to capitalism. That’s because market forces can do their job of allocating resources only by activating the profit motive as the primary force of productive activity.

C.J. Polychroniou: In your book, you argue that economic planning is the institution that can achieve the aim of creating just and sustainable societies—not market forces. But you also argue that an “effective and sustainable socialism” requires direct participatory planning and new forms of public ownership of the means of production. Can you briefly lay out the basic features of democratic socialism?

David Kotz: Here I can respond only briefly to this question, which I consider in detail in my forthcoming book. My view follows closely the model of socialism in Pat Devine’s book Democracy and Economic Planning. The following are some of the key features of a future democratic socialism in my view:

1. Economic allocation decisions are made by all parties affected by the decision. That includes workers, consumers, and the local community.
2. Differences are settled whenever possible by negotiation and compromise among the relevant parties. If necessary, majority voting can be used.
3. The mass media are free to criticize the state and its officials.
4. Individuals are free to criticize the state and its officials.

Democratic socialism will inevitably face a contradiction between wide participation in decision-making and the need to make allocation decisions in a timely manner, allocation decisions that are inter-dependent in an actual economy. It will not be perfect, but it promises the best possible future for the human species.

It’s true I have a favorite Christmas song, but as it turns out, it’s not one that many people know—at least I assume most people don’t know it.

Funny enough, the title is simply “Christmas Song,” and it was performed—at least the version I know—by songwriter Greg Brown during a live show back in 2001.

Though an atheist, my fondness for Christmas—perhaps like it is for many—is wrapped in the nostalgia of the holiday of my upbringing as well as the ongoing joys I find during this “season of giving.” Like religious celebrations across many faiths, Christmas has the ability to open the human heart and reminds us (if we let it) of that spirit that enriches us and challenges us to understand what it means to share, not material gifts, but time and warmth with one another.

In Brown’s song—which I encourage you to listen to here or below—the story of Jesus is subtly inverted.

Rather than a story of miraculous birth—”It was the night before Christmas,” the song begins, “but nobody was really noticing that”—it is a story about the routine of birth (“something women do” and that “men kinda, sorta, a little bit… help”) in which the only miracle is the gift of life that we’ve all been granted.

Just getting born is such an amazing thing
You'd think we'd all just be nice forever after—
Just to get to be a part of it.

You'd think that anybody that ever held a little baby in their arms
Would be so careful not to ever do any damage
To another human being—or to the creation
Of which we are so obviously a part.

The song presents a story of Jesus that escapes Christianity, which is perhaps why I find it so lovely and piercing, and opens the door to thinking about the hidden promise of a holiday that too often asks us “what we want” as opposed to reflecting on the joys of what we’ve been given.

Sometimes when I get distraught
About our world and what we're doing to it
I remind myself that little children like that are being born every day.

The story in the song is not about a boy who grew up to “found any big religions, with shiny churches,” but rather a story “about a world so much better than this one.” In this story, the unnamed boy “was just a child full of love, who went around and talked about love.”

And so it follows that the lesson of such a child is not that he was exemplary (though perhaps he was), but that we too often fail to recognize the potent and profound goodness of so many people among us, past and present—not children of God, but examples of humility and decency.

Sometimes when I get distraught
About our world and what we're doing to it
I remind myself that little children like that are being born every day.
They may not make a lot of big news
But in their life, they’re kind;
They take care of people;
They don’t blow things all out of proportion.

They spread the news that this life,
So mysterious and hard, is a wonderful enterprise
That should be cherished.

And Brown, led all along by the slow strum of guitar, speaks sorrowfully but clearly as he tells his listener:

So Christmas, if it’s anything at all,
It’s every day. It’s every night.
And even when things look dark, way down…
In the human heart,
That we all share...
There’s a light.

And, only to the song’s credit, it makes me think that’s true. I don’t call it religion, but that idea has shaped my understanding of what the promise of human goodness really is. We know it exists, not because we read about it or were told to believe in it—but because we’ve seen it. We’ve witnessed it.

So Christmas, if it’s anything at all, it’s every day. It’s every night.

Even amidst all the horror and violence and injustice, we know in our life, the good people—young and old and those neither young nor old—and they don’t ask us to believe, but show us the way.

When I listen to this song—as I often will at this time of year—it does something solemn to my heart, the hearts of my family, and those we share it with.

Since I first heard it, the song has always been to me a magnificent expression, though that was not its intent, of what Common Dreams seeks to represent—a world full of people who embody that spirit of loving one another and defending the common good while challenging “the political leadership of the day,” as the song puts it.

We don’t often use that kind of language, but that’s what this project we call Common Dreams is about: love. The news we report and the opinions and analysis we share are all grounded in a deep love for people, community, life of all kinds, and the planet that sustains us all.

I know very well how dark it feels right now for so many. We are right to be frightened and angry and frustrated. And at the same time, we must remember that the light “we all share, in the human heart” is the beginning of our path forward. We are going to have to fight like hell, but that fight will be built on love and solidarity or nothing at all.

If you want to support Common Dreams during this season of giving and reflection, please consider making a contribution to our crucial End-of-Year campaign. Without doubt, our work will be better and stronger with your help. No gift is too small and every gift—no matter the size—makes the biggest difference.

With endless gratitude for all you do in the world, dear reader, and the example you set for the rest of us.

As political analysts continue to piece together the results of this year’s general election, an illuminating takeaway has emerged on issues related to criminal justice: Voters who cast their ballot in red states also voted in local elections for reform-minded candidates and passed progressive criminal justice ballot measures; whereas in some blue states, voters preferred candidates who promise to implement tough-on-crime policies.

These results show that people’s political beliefs no longer easily fall along party lines. And criminal justice reform doesn’t offer any obviously easy solutions. For many, what matters most is feeling safe in our communities. It also suggests that most people believe accomplishing this requires us to no longer view matters like criminal justice as partisan issues.

When I think about this, the legacy and words of John Lewis—a civil rights leader turned congressman—spring to mind: “We cannot thrive as a democracy when justice is reserved for only those with means,” Lewis wrote in 2020. It was at the height of a national movement for racial justice, and his words and the social unrest were signs of a new movement for a more just and equitable America. Lewis was 80 years old then and severely ill with cancer, yet he remained optimistic about the future of America. Several years since his death, Lewis’ lifework and reflections still resonate deeply.

Supporting different networks of mutual aid organizations, like bail funds, is how communities can lean on their shared values and hold tight to their purpose.

As our nation works to bridge divides and find common ground, Lewis’ legacy continues to offer our nation guidance. From the Jim Crow era of the 1960s to the political and racial justice movement that swept the country in 2020, Lewis witnessed our country’s capacity to transform. His life experiences and reflections offer a roadmap for how people can protect and strengthen American democracy. He believed, for instance, that democracy cannot thrive “where power remains unchecked and justice is reserved for a select few. Ignoring these cries and failing to respond to this movement is simply not an option—for peace cannot exist where justice is not served.”

In today’s America, countless people are still living on the receiving end of that reality. Unarmed Black men continue to be brutally beaten by police. Women are being criminalized for pregnancy loss and for seeking reproductive healthcare. Meanwhile, families are being torn apart by a broken criminal justice system that puts a price on freedom for the legally innocent. But Lewis’ words offer us insight: “As a nation, if we care for the Beloved Community, we must move our feet, our hands, our hearts, our resources to build and not to tear down, to reconcile and not to divide, to love and not to hate, to heal and not to kill.”

To follow in Lewis’ footsteps means viewing this moment in our nation’s history as an opportunity to turn feelings of frustration and uncertainty into positive engagement with our community and fellow neighbors. One way to do that is through mutual aid—the practice of ordinary people helping others in their community by providing resources and services to help meet people’s needs. Groups organized for this purpose, like local community bail funds and The Bail Project, exist to support people when the government does not. Through wealth-based detention that results from the use of cash bail, our cities, states, and counties have shirked their responsibility to preserve the presumption of innocence, establishing a two-tiered system of justice: one for the rich, and another for everyone else.

Charitable bail organizations, like The Bail Project, are often local grassroot groups spearheaded by people from the communities they serve, staffed, for example, by faith leaders, legal experts, and advocates for criminal justice reform. Charitable bail organizations provide free bail assistance and even supportive services—such as court reminders and transportation assistance—to incarcerated people who have already been deemed eligible for release by a judge. In fact, many of the legally innocent people they help have been accused of low-level nonviolent misdemeanors, such as forgetting to attend a scheduled court date. Oftentimes, the only reason people remain incarcerated in jail before trial is because they cannot afford to pay the court a few hundred dollars in exchange for their release before trial—not because they pose a risk of flight or public safety concerns.

Bail funds play a powerful and important role not only in reducing the structural harms caused by our nation’s reliance on failing cash bail policies, but also in strengthening and preserving our country’s democratic ideals. In providing people who a judge has already determined is safe to release with free bail assistance and court support, we safeguard our country’s notions of liberty, freedom, and the presumption of innocence. These are fundamental principles that underpin American democracy—regardless of political affiliation. This work helps our society reimagine how our bail and pretrial systems can be improved.

As we look ahead, the road forward may not be easy, but we’re not alone on it. The work of mutual aid groups and charitable bail funds has helped usher in change. Over the last decade, more than 20 cities have safely minimized the use of cash bail. Supporting different networks of mutual aid organizations, like bail funds, is how communities can lean on their shared values and hold tight to their purpose. Now, more than ever, we must keep our eyes on what we’re here to accomplish, the change we’re fighting for, and the commitment that brought us together. Because, in the words of Lewis: “When you see something that is not right, not fair, not just, you have to speak up. You have to say something; you have to do something.”

In the past few weeks, one thing has become crystal clear in America: The public outrage after the assassination of UnitedHealthcare CEO Brian Thompson exposed a seething fury over the health insurance racket. No amount of media finger-wagging at public perversity or partisan attempts to frame Luigi Mangione’s act as a statement from the left or right can hide the reality: The people, from all sides, are livid about the healthcare system—and with good reason.

In the 21st century, Americans have expressed their view that healthcare is deteriorating, not advancing. For example, according to recent Gallup polls, respondents’ satisfaction with the quality of healthcare has reached its lowest level since 2001. Key point: Americans in those polls “rate healthcare coverage in the U.S. even more negatively than they rate quality.”

Coverage is the core failure, driven by the insurance industry’s profit-first approach to denying care.

It’s a textbook case of “market failure.” Instead of healthy competition lowering prices and improving services, what we have is an oligopoly that drives up costs and leaves millions uninsured.

So here we are, regardless of politicians’ rosy narratives or avoidance of the topic. Politicians on both sides of the aisle should be motivated to take on this scandalous state of affairs, but, as journalist Ken Klippenstein pointed out, presidential nominees Kamala Harris and Donald Trump barely acknowledged healthcare, mentioning it only twice, between them, in their convention speeches. “This is the first election in my adult memory that I can recall healthcare not being at the center of the debate,” Klippenstein remarked, recalling Biden’s 2020 nod to the public option and Bernie Sanders’ strong calls for universal healthcare in 2016.

Meanwhile, Americans are crushed by skyrocketing premiums, crippling medical debt, and denial of care that devastates millions of lives. It should be no surprise that frustration has reached a boiling point, igniting a fierce, widespread demand for real, systemic change. Ordinary people are clear that insurance companies don’t exist to protect their health, but to protect and maximize profits for shareholders.

Economist William Lazonick points out that we have every right to expect quality at a fair price, noting that a good health insurance policy should ensure accessible care with the insurer covering the costs—something a single-payer system could deliver. “A for-profit (business-sector) insurer such as UnitedHealthcare could make a profit by offering high-quality insurance,” Lazonick told the Institute for New Economic Thinking, “but they have chosen a business model that seeks to make money by denying as many claims as possible, delaying the payment of claims that they cannot avoid paying, and defending their positions in the courts, if need be.”

This is capitalism run amok.

And the profits are rolling in. Lazonick notes that in 2023, UnitedHealthcare enjoyed an operating profit margin of 8% on revenues of an eye-popping $281.4 billion, insuring 52,750,000 people, which equals revenues (premiums) of $5,334 per insured. The insured, meanwhile, pay not only the premiums, but deductibles, copays, and things like surprise billing. He argues that while the cost of medical care is artificially inflated, health insurers strategize to keep costs in check by enrolling young, healthy people—a windfall provided by the Affordable Care Act’s individual mandate, which forced consumers into the system while allowing insurers to keep operating as usual, engaging in their profit-maximizing schemes. In his view, the inflated costs of medical care are partly thanks to financialization—a process where healthcare companies prioritize financial strategies like stock buybacks and dividend payouts over actually improving patient care, investing in useful innovations, or lowering premiums.

Alongside his colleague Oner Tulum, Lazonick has shown that the biggest health insurance companies have been on a stock buyback binge, padding their profits and lining the pockets of executives and shareholders: classic Wall Street greed in action. They note that of the top four companies by revenues over the most recent decade, UnitedHealth, CVS Health, Elevance, and Cigna, average annual buybacks were a stunning $3.7 billion. “Ultimately, the manipulative boosts that these buybacks give to the health insurers’ stock prices come out of the pockets of U.S. households in the form of higher insurance premiums,” they write.

It’s easy to see why health insurance executives are obsessed with stock buybacks. Lazonick and Tulum point out that from 2000 to 2017, Stephen J. Helmsley, the CEO of UnitedHealth Group, raked in an annual average of $37.3 million—86% of it coming from stock-based compensation. His successor, Andrew Witty, wasn’t exactly slumming it either, pulling in $17 million a year (79% stock-based) between 2018 and 2023. And then there’s the assassinated Brian Thompson, former CEO of the UnitedHealth subsidiary UnitedHealthcare, who bagged $9.5 million a year (73% stock-based) from 2021 to 2023. It’s a deadly scam, to be sure—inflate the stock price with buybacks, fatten the paychecks for executives (not rank-and-file employees), and deny patients the care they need.

Lazonick observes that the more profits that UnitedHealth Group makes, the more extra cash is available to distribute to shareholders as dividends and buybacks, “and, generally, the higher the stock price, the potential for higher top executive pay.” The unpleasant reality, according to him, is that “given UHC’s predatory business model, Thompson was incentivized by his stock-based pay to rip off customers, and he ascended to the United Healthcare CEO position because he was good at it.”

Perhaps this helps explain why many Americans are not exactly mourning his passing.

The roots of this mess trace back to the neoliberal, market-driven ideology that underpins the system. Neoclassical economics, the theory behind this philosophy, is all about maximizing profit and trusting the market to sort things out—like some magical invisible hand. In reality, it’s a blueprint for inequality: The rich, like insurance CEOS, get richer, and everyone else is subject to exploitation. Healthcare is a perfect example of why this system doesn’t work. When you turn human health into a business, where access is determined by how much you can pay, only the wealthy can count on top-notch, reliably available care. The fundamental contradiction at the heart of the U.S. system is simple: health is treated as a commodity, not a human right.

This current system make sense to the economists still clinging to their outdated, flawed neoclassical principles, but for regular folks? It’s crystal clear: our system is untenable.

The myth that the U.S. health insurance system runs efficiently in a competitive market is just that—a myth. In reality, a handful of for-profit insurers dominate, focused not on providing care, but on extracting profits. It’s a textbook case of “market failure.” Instead of healthy competition lowering prices and improving services, what we have is an oligopoly that drives up costs and leaves millions uninsured. Let’s go over three examples of this failure.

1. Information Asymmetry: In a real competitive market, you’d have clear, straightforward information to make good choices. But in the U.S. health insurance system? Not happening. Insurers deliberately obscure policy details, leaving you to guess the true costs and coverage—even the percentage of claims denied. This gives them all the power while you’re stuck with confusing, impenetrable contracts. They know exactly what they’re doing—and it’s not about helping you.

Say you’re self-employed and stuck buying private insurance on the Health Insurance Marketplace. You don’t qualify for subsidies, so you figure the best you can do is a silver plan with a $1,000 monthly premium. It’s steep, but at least it lists a $45 co-pay for an in-network doctor visit—and it’s got to be in-network because the plan won’t cover a dime of out-of-network care. You sign up for the plan, and then you go to the doctor for a respiratory infection. Surprise! You’re hit with a $200 bill. Why? Because co-pays only apply after you meet your $2,200 deductible—that was in the fine print.

At this point, avoiding the doctor sounds like the best plan.

But wait, isn’t the Health Insurance Marketplace a government-driven system? How could it be so unfair and deceptive? Well, it isn’t exactly a government-driven system. The Marketplace is government-run in name, thanks to the Affordable Care Act, with the feds running HealthCare.gov—but let’s be clear: It’s controlled by private insurers. The government sets some rules, but the real power lies with for-profit companies pulling the strings. What’s sold as a consumer-friendly system is really just a cash cow for the insurance industry.

2. Adverse Selection: Let’s go back to that self-employed person hit with a $200 doctor bill. The next time they get sick, they decide to skip the doctor—why risk a bigger bill? The insurance companies love this—they don’t have to pay a thing while you must keep paying your premium. This is adverse selection in action. Healthy people forgo care to save money, while the sick are stuck with costly plans. Insurers raise premiums, pushing even more people out of the system. The result? A vicious cycle where prices keep climbing, and care becomes harder to access.

3. Externalities: The U.S. health insurance system’s failure to provide universal coverage creates what economists call “negative externalities.” Our self-employed person who didn’t go to the doctor to save money has ended up in the emergency room, where the costs quickly balloon. What started as a simple issue becomes a preventable hospitalization, driving up healthcare costs for everyone and straining public health resources. These added costs don’t just hit the individual—they’re a drag on society as a whole, with taxpayers and the healthcare system picking up the tab. And on top of it all, the person has missed work and spread their illness to others, amplifying both the social and economic damage.

If you want to see information asymmetry, adverse selection, and externalities really come together, look no further than Medicare Advantage, which economist Eileen Appelbaum plainly calls a “scam”—and one that is liable to expand under Trump’s second term.

As Appelbaum explains, Medicare Advantage is neither Medicare nor is it to anyone’s advantage except insurance companies.

Medicare Advantage is actually a private insurance program that is sold as an alternative to traditional Medicare, advertised to combine hospital, medical, and often prescription coverage, and offer perks such as gym membership coverage. It was originally created in 1997 as part of the Balanced Budget Act under President Bill Clinton to allow private insurers to manage Medicare benefits with a focus on cost control and efficiency.

Proponents claim that privately-run Medicare Advantage plans, which now enroll over half of all people eligible for Medicare, offer good value, but Appelbaum notes this is only the case if you manage not to get a chronic condition—you’d better not get cancer or get too sick.

A 2017 report by the Government Accountability Office found that sicker patients not only don’t benefit from these plans, they are worse off than they would be under Medicare, barred from access to their preferred doctors and hospitals.

Appelbaum notes that the Medicare Advantage program is really a patchwork of private plans run by for-profit companies that rake in billions in taxpayer subsidies while finding new ways to deny care—like endless preauthorizations and rejecting expensive post-acute treatments. Unlike traditional Medicare, which directly pays for services, these private insurers are paid per subscriber, boosting their profits by upcoding and cherry-picking healthier clients. The result: Taxpayers lose $88 to $140 billion a year. But what a boon to the insurers: Appelbaum notes that they now make more from Medicare Advantage than from all their other products combined.

In a 2023 report, Appelbaum and her colleagues noted that recent evidence reveals that Medicare Advantage insurers have been denying claims at unreasonably high rates, particularly for home health services. They point to a 2022 report from the Office of the Inspector General for the U.S. Health and Human Services, which found that in 2019, 13% of prior authorization requests for medically necessary care, including post-acute home health services, were denied despite meeting Medicare coverage rules. These services would have been covered under traditional fee-for-service Medicare. Though some denied requests were later approved, the delays jeopardized patients’ health and imposed administrative burdens. On top of that, a 2021 Centers for Medicare & Medicaid Services study showed that over 2 million of 35 million prior authorization requests were denied, with only 11% appealed. Of those, 82% of appeals were successful, highlighting a high rate of incorrect denials.

Appelbaum points out that, despite the similar names, Medicare and Medicare Advantage are worlds apart. Medicare is a trusted public program, while Medicare Advantage is really just private insurance that’s marketed to look like the real thing, luring people in with misleading ads and false promises. The goal of Medicare Advantage supporters is to replace traditional, publicly funded Medicare with private, for-profit insurers—pushing for market competition and cost-cutting at the expense of direct, government-provided healthcare. It’s a prime example of what happens when neoclassical economics gets its way.

“It goes back to the Affordable Care Act,” she explained in a conversation with the Institute for New Economic Thinking. “The ACA introduced many beneficial reforms, but it also required Medicare to experiment with Medicare Advantage plans as part of a broader push for “value-based” care, where providers are going to be incentivized to skimp on your care.” She stressed that this isn’t just financially harmful for patients—it can be deadly. It’s not merely about denying care; it’s about using delaying tactics that put lives at risk: “Widespread delay is a serious problem—when someone has cancer, two weeks of delays waiting for coverage to be approved can be deadly.”

The reality is that with value-based care, providers are rewarded for reducing costs, rather than being paid for the volume of services they deliver, which can encourage cost-cutting measures that potentially compromise care quality.

And as to that much-touted competition that neoclassical economists insist will lower costs and boost efficiency among insurers—good luck finding an example of that. The administrative costs of private insurers are staggering compared to single-payer systems. According to a 2018 study in The Lancet, the U.S. spends 8% of total national health expenditures on activities related to planning, regulating, and managing health systems and services, compared to an average of only 3% spent in single-payer systems. The excess administrative burden in the U.S. is a direct consequence of having to navigate a fragmented system with multiple insurers, each with its own rules, coverage policies, and approval processes.

Beyond the outrageous administrative costs, the U.S. healthcare system’s reliance on employer-based insurance is a relic of 20th-century policy decisions that are downright outdated in today’s gig economy. It ties access to care to your job, effectively locking out millions of gig and part-time workers, freelancers, and the unemployed. The notion that people can “shop around” for insurance plans like they’re picking a toaster is absurd when the stakes are life and death.

The exorbitant cost of this flawed approach to healthcare is borne by society—through higher overall health spending, worse outcomes, and a public system buckling under the weight of the uninsured and underinsured. The system doesn’t just fail to provide equitable care; it deepens social and economic inequality. Health should be a public good, with care guaranteed for all—regardless of income, job, or pre-existing conditions.

Many argue that the solution isn’t patching the system with small reforms, but rethinking it entirely—or, as documentary maker Michael Moore recently put it, “Throw this entire system in the trash.” That means embracing models like single-payer, where the state ensures health for all and care is based on need, not profit.

Until the U.S. abandons its current insurance model, we’ll remain stuck with a system that enriches a few while exploiting the many—and the many are well and truly sick of it.

America is ready to say goodbye to the Grinches that operate 365 days a year.

One of my jobs in the tiny Vermont town where I live is to lead the Christmas Eve service at the little white church alongside the river. I’m not actually a preacher, and it’s not particularly denominational—my wife and my daughter, who are Jewish, are usually on hand to belt out carols and there’s occasionally a reading from Dr. Seuss. But the neighbors stand at the pulpit one by one to recite the Scriptures that tell the story of this remarkable baby, and then I do my best in a short homily to pick out some points of light. A little harder this year than most, but perhaps more important because of that. The goal is to make sure the community holds, now more than ever.

And I suppose that in some way the community we’ve built around this newsletter is a congregation of sorts, with me again in the role of shambling, ill-trained preacher. So I’ve poked around in the news to bring you a trio of small gifts—ambiguous, by no means definitive, but nonetheless things to build on.

The first comes, somewhat remarkably, from Silicon Valley.

As you almost certainly know, the rapid growth of AI is causing despair among some energy experts. The giant data centers that “train” these various models to do what they do (help lazy students write banal termpapers, say) soak up huge amounts of electricity, and in the last year or two the fossil fuel industry has seized on that as avidly as they seized on Russia’s invasion of Ukraine—anything to make the case for extending their business model a little longer. Arielle Samuelson, writing at Emily Atkin’s pathbreaking newsletter Heated, offers a really powerful account of what’s gone on:

The growth of AI has been called the “savior” of the gas industry. In Virginia alone, the data center capital of the world, a new state report found that AI demand could add a new 1.5 gigawatt gas plant every two years for 15 consecutive years.

And now, as energy demand for AI rises, oil corporations are planning to build gas plants that specifically serve data centers. Last week, Exxon announced that it is building a large gas plant that will directly supply power to data centers within the next five years. The company claims the gas plant will use technology that captures polluting emissions—despite the fact that the technology has never been used at a commercial scale before.

Chevron also announced that the company is preparing to sell gas to an undisclosed number of data centers. “We're doing some work right now with a number of different people that's not quite ready for prime time, looking at possible solutions to build large-scale power generation,” said CEO Mike Wirth at an Atlantic Council event. The opportunity to sell power to data centers is so promising that even private equity firms are investing billions in building energy infrastructure.

So, ugh. Except that it’s important to remember that Big Oil is an industry that lies a lot, and some of those commitments may not be quite as firm as they’re saying. In fact, a new report—this is the first Christmas present—from a team of Silicon Valley types came out last week, making the case that if these data centers are actually going to get built anytime soon, the best bet by far is for Google et al to put up solar farms next door. Building new gas plants, as they point out, takes a number of years—really, anything that requires a new connection to the grid goes slowly. But if you have a “co-located microgrid”—i.e., a dedicated solar farm right next to your mysterious warehouse of servers—that can be put up in a relative trice.

Estimated time to operation for a large off-grid solar microgrid could be around two years (1-2 years for site acquisition and permitting plus 1-2 years for site buildout), though there’s no obvious reason why this couldn’t be done faster by very motivated and competent builders.

The only one of the authors I knew before this was Zeke Hausfather, a climate scientist employed by the payment company Stripe, but the others come from reputable places (Paces, which expedites renewable development, and Scale Microgrids) and they thank a passel of collaborators at places like Tesla and Anthropic. And their research seems impeccable—they work through the costs and the reliability of renewables paired with batteries, and they return again and again to the speed with which these new facilities could be built.

One thing they don’t stress, but which I think could be politically important, is that all of these big AI players have promised in recent years that they would zero out their emissions. And though no one in the White House will hold them to that, most of these companies are in places like Washington and California filled with environmentally committed workers and investors; we should be able to organize some pressure on them to do the right thing. It’s not the perfect thing. In a rational world we’d postpone the glories of AI long enough to power up all the heat pumps and cars from renewable electricity first. But if they get expertise building solar farms for their data centers, the experience may turn these behemoths into better crusaders for clean energy. One can hope, anyway. Here’s the final bottom line from the report:

Off-grid solar microgrids offer a fast path to power AI datacenters at enormous scale. The tech is mature, the suitable parcels of land in the U.S. Southwest are known, and this solution is likely faster than most, if not all, alternatives… The advantages to whoever moves on this quickly could be substantial.

And then there’s the second present I promised, which was delivered Wednesday afternoon by the Montana Supreme Court. It upheld, on a 6-1 vote, a lower court ruling that the state’s children have a “fundamental constitutional right to a clean and healthful environment,” and that that includes carefully analyzing state energy policies to keep them from damaging the climate.

This ruling is under the state constitution, which was amended shortly after Earth Day in 1970 to include environmental protections. (America’s Western states have not always been bright red). The landmark ruling comes almost a year and a half after a remarkable trial, which featured a mix of young Montanans explaining how climate change was damaging their lives (breathing wildfire smoke, for one) and nationally renowned climate experts who volunteered their time to make a compelling case. The state all but punted its response, not even putting its lead climate-denier on the stand after paying her large sums of money to prepare testimony, and the district court issued a powerful finding that’s now been upheld.

This doesn’t necessarily have national implications—shamefully, the Biden DOJ has buried the federal equivalent, Juliana v. U.S., under a blizzard of writs, picking up where the Trump administration left off. And it probably won’t immediately change Montana’s current commitment to using more gas. But it is a clear moral victory that will cast a long shadow. As Cornell legal scholar Leehi Yona said this morning, “This is a historic case and one that could serve as a model for state-level lawsuits, particularly as an alternative to federal courts (such as the U.S. Supreme Court, which currently seems unreceptive to climate cases).”

Mostly, I’m happy for the kids involved. I got to interview a couple of them on stage this fall at a gathering sponsored by Protect Our Winters. They were eloquent and moving, and I hope very much that this ruling strengthens their commitment to fight. The Trump era will end someday, and we’ll need a new wave of smart and moral people to carry on the crucial fights—these are them!

And the third? Attentive readers will remember how happy I was earlier this year at news that half a million Germans had taken advantage of a new law to hang solar panels from the balconies of their apartments. Well, according to a new report in The Guardian, by year’s end that number has swelled to a million and a half Germans, and now it’s taking off in Spain and elsewhere.

Manufacturers say that installing a couple of 300-watt panels will give a saving of up to 30% on a typical household’s electricity bill. With an outlay of €400-800 and with no installation cost, the panels could pay for themselves within six years.

In Spain, where two thirds of the population live in apartments and installing panels on the roof requires the consent of a majority of the building’s residents, this DIY technology has obvious advantages.

With solar balconies, no such consent is required unless the facade is listed as of historic interest or there is a specific prohibition from the residents’ association or the local authority. Furthermore, as long as the installation does not exceed 800 watts it doesn’t require certification, which can cost from €100 to €400, depending on the area.

“The beauty of the solar balconies is they are flexible, cheap, and plug straight into the domestic network via a converter, so you don’t have to pay for the installation,” says Santiago Vernetta, CEO of Tornasol Energy, one of Spain’s main suppliers.

Putting up one of these would be illegal almost everywhere in America—but that’s something to work on next year. Why should Europeans have all the fun? Belgium has just ended its ban. As one official explained: “If 1.5 million Germans have bought solar balcony kits there must be something in it,” he says.

I wish I had yet more such gifts to offer (I’m keeping a close eye on Albany, where Gov. Kathy Hochul may still sign the crucial Climate Superfund bill before year’s end, and if that happens I’ll let you know). But I hope these help set the holiday mood just a little. I can tell you that it’s snowing this afternoon up here on the spine of the Greens. And since I’m typing up the program for the Christmas Eve service this afternoon, I can tell you how it ends: with everyone in town walking through the church doors and into the (hopefully crisp) night air singing “Go Tell It on the Mountain.”

The DMZ America Podcast’s Ted Rall (on the Left) and Scott Stantis (on the Right) celebrate the December 23rd holiday of Festivus with the traditional Airing of Grievances. As “Seinfeld”’s Frank Costanza said it in the show’s Festivus episode: “I got a lotta problems with you people, and now you’re going to hear about it!”

Scott and Ted are deeply, deeply disappointed by many people and things, and now you’re going to hear about it.

The post DMZ America Podcast Ep 186: Happy Festivus! Ted and Scott Air Their Grievances first appeared on Ted Rall's Rallblog.

The post DMZ America Podcast Ep 186: Happy Festivus! Ted and Scott Air Their Grievances appeared first on Ted Rall's Rallblog.

Washington, D.C. January 22, 1903—Secretary of State John Hay and the Colombian commercial attaché in the United States, Tomás Herrán, signed the treaty that would give the United States the right to resume construction of the Panama Canal that the French had abandoned when they were almost halfway done. Colombia would agree to cede a strip of land on its isthmus to the United States for 100 years in exchange for ten million in a single payment and $250,000 per year. A few miles off the coast of Panama, the warship Wisconsin remains stranded to provide moral support for the negotiations.

Congress in Washington immediately approved the treaty, but it was rejected in Bogotá. There were doubts about sovereignty and about the benefits derived from this agreement. Mathematics, also practiced in that country, said that it would take the Colombian people 120 years to receive the same compensation that had been offered to be paid in one lump sum to the New Panama Canal Co.

On April 15, the United States envoy, Mr. Beaupre, sent a telegram to the secretary of state about the mood of the Colombian people: “There is at least one clear fact. If the treaty were put to the free consideration of the people, it would not be approved.” The Colombian Senate voted unanimously against its ratification.

Without ever having set foot outside his country, on August 27, President Theo Roosevelt wrote three letters describing the Colombians as “ignorant,” “greedy,” “despicable little men,” and “corrupting idiots and murderers.” Also, “I could never respect a country full of that kind of people… Trying to deal with Colombia as one deals with Switzerland, Belgium, or Holland is simply absurd.” Days later, he sends some packages with dollars to organize a revolt that will be called Revolution.

Problem solved. On November 18, the Hay-Bunau-Varilla treaty was signed in Washington, by which “the United States guarantees the freedom of Panama” in exchange for Panama ceding authority and all rights over the canal, free of any tax. As usual, the Panamanians were not invited to sign the new treaty. The $250,000 annually previously offered to Colombia would not be paid until a decade after the canal’s opening. There is nothing like having a powerful navy to do good business. The previous Treaty of Peace and Commerce signed by Colombia and the United States in 1846 was also violated. As in Cuba, as in Puerto Rico, article, now article 136 assured Washington the power to intervene in any inconvenient situation. Still, rebellions are symbolic. Washington has decreed that citizens of that country cannot acquire weapons. Imperial practice is old: Treaties are signed so the weak will comply.

In the United States, voices are raised against what several congressmen call dishonesty and imperialism. Sen. Edward Carmack protests, “The idea of a revolution in Panama is a crude lie; the only man who took up arms was our president.” Sen. George Frisbie Hoar, a member of the commission investigating the war crimes that will go unpunished in the Philippines, rejects the versions about the Revolution in Panama and adds, “I hope not to live long enough to see the day when the interests of my country are put above its honor.”

Of course, this matter of honor can be fixed. The president resorts to the old resource of “we were attacked first.” As President James Polk did to justify the invasion of Mexico in 1846 or President William McKinley to occupy Cuba in 1898, Roosevelt invents a story about threats to the security of certain American citizens in the area. Like Secretary of State Henry Kissinger, when he denied in front of television cameras any involvement in the military coup in Chile in 1973, Roosevelt assured Congress and the public that Washington was not involved in the Revolution in Panama. On December 6, 1904, he gave a speech before Congress on the need to once again expand the Monroe Doctrine “to see our neighbors stable, orderly, and prosperous.” Otherwise, “intervention by a civilized nation will be necessary… The United States must, whether it wants to or not, intervene to solve any serious problem by exercising the power of international police.”

In 1906, Roosevelt visited the construction sites in Panama. He would be the first American president to dare to leave his country. On board, the USS Louisiana, Roosevelt wrote to his son Kermit, “With admirable energy, men, and machines work together; the whites supervise the construction sites and operate the machines while tens of thousands of blacks do the hard work where it is not worth the trouble to use machines.”

Despite the hard work of Panamanians, they are portrayed as lazy. Journalist Richard Harding Davis had already echoed the sentiment of the time: “[Panama] has fertile lands, iron, and gold, but it has been cursed by God with lazy people and corrupt men who govern it… These people are a menace and an insult to civilization.”

In 1909, the Senate Foreign Affairs Committee, based on Roosevelt’s boastful statements to a class at a California university, investigated “the unilateral decision of a former president to take Panama from the Republic of Colombia without consulting Congress.” Considering Colombia’s requests to The Hague, the commission will question different protagonists. On November 6, 1903, three days after the revolution in Panama, the State Department sent a cable to its consul in Colombia informing that “the people of Panama, apparently unanimously, have resolved to dissolve their ties with the Republic of Colombia.”

Congressman Henry Thomas Rainey reads the cable from Washington in Congress. Rainey clarifies: “I do not believe any of this is true… When the Revolution occurred, only 10 or 12 rebels knew of the plans, apart from the Panama Railroad and Steamship Co. managers.”

It would be necessary to wait until 1977 when President Jimmy Carter’s government signed an agreement that the United States would return the canal to Central American country on the last day of 1999, three years before the mandatory rental period expired. A year earlier, at an event in Texas, the former governor of California and future president, Ronald Reagan, would declare: “It does not matter which ram dictator is in power in Panama. We built it! We paid for the canal! It’s ours, and we’re going to keep it.”

Omar Torrijos will be the dictator Reagan alluded to. Torrijos will claim sovereignty over the canal and will die, like other rebel leaders from the south, in a plane crash.

Imperialism is a disease that not only kills those who resist it but also does not let those who carry it inside live.

The United States, Turkey, and Israel all responded to the fall of the Assad government in Damascus by launching bombing campaigns on Syria. Israel also attacked and destroyed most of the Syrian Navy in port at Latakia, and invaded Syria from the long-occupied Golan Heights, advancing to within 16 miles of the capital, Damascus.

The United States said that its bombing campaign targeted remnants of Islamic State in the east of the country, hitting 75 targets with 140 bombs and missiles, according to Air Force Times.

A long-standing force of 900 U.S. troops illegally occupies that part of Syria, partly to divert Syria’s meager oil revenues to the U.S.’s Kurdish allies and prevent the Syrian government from regaining that source of revenue. U.S. bombing badly damaged Syria’s oil infrastructure during the war with the Islamic State, but Russia has been ready to help Syria restore full output whenever it recovers control of that area. U.S. forces in Syria have been under attack by various Syrian militia forces, not just the Islamic State, with at least 127 attacks since October 2023.

Meanwhile, Turkiyë is conducting airstrikes, drone strikes, and artillery fire as part of a new offensive by a militia it formed in 2017 under the Orwellian guise of the “Syrian National Army” to invade and occupy parts of Rojava, the autonomous Kurdish enclave in northeast Syria.

Israel, however, launched a much broader bombing campaign than Turkey or the U.S., with about 600 airstrikes on post-Assad Syria in the first eight days of its existence. Without waiting to see what form of government the political transition in Syria leads to, Israel set about methodically destroying its entire military infrastructure, to ensure that whatever government comes to power will be as defenseless as possible.

Israel claims its new occupation of Syrian territory is a temporary move to ensure its own security. But while Israel bombed Syria 220 times over the past year, killing about 300 people, Syria showed restraint and did not retaliate for those attacks.

The pattern of Israeli history has been that land grabs like this usually turn into long-term illegal Israeli annexations, as in the Golan Heights and the Occupied Palestinian Territories. That will surely be the case with Israel’s new strategic base on top of Mount Hermon, overlooking Damascus and the surrounding area, unless a new Syrian government or international diplomacy can force Israel to withdraw.

Egypt, Jordan, Iraq, Saudi Arabia, Qatar, Iran, Russia, and the U.N. have all joined the global condemnation of the new Israeli assault on Syria. Geir Pedersen, the U.N. Special Envoy to Syria, called Israel’s military actions “highly irresponsible,” and U.N. peacekeepers have removed Israeli flags from newly-occupied Syrian territory.

The Qatari Foreign Ministry called Israel’s actions “a dangerous development and a blatant attack on Syria’s sovereignty and unity as well as a flagrant violation of international law… that will lead the region to further violence and tension.”

The Saudi Foreign Ministry reiterated that the Golan Heights is an occupied Arab territory, and said that Israel’s actions confirmed “Israel’s continued violation of the rules of international law and its determination to sabotage Syria’s chances of restoring its security, stability and territorial integrity.”

The only country in the world that has ever recognized Israel’s annexation of the Golan Heights is the United States, under the first Trump administration, and it is part of Biden’s disastrous legacy in the Middle East that he failed to stand up for international law and reverse Trump’s recognition of that illegal Israeli annexation.

As people all over the world watch Israel ignore the rules of international law that every country in the world is committed to live by, we are confronted by the age-old question of how to respond to a country that systematically ignores and violates these rules. The foundation of the UN Charter is the agreement by all countries to settle their differences diplomatically and peacefully, instead of by the threat or use of military force.

As Americans, we should start by admitting that our own country has led the way down this path of war and militarism, perpetuating the scourge of war that the UN Charter was intended to provide a peaceful alternative to.

"While the United States bears a great deal of responsibility for this crisis, U.S. officials remain in collective denial over the criminal nature of Israel's actions and their instrumental role in Israel’s crimes."

As the United States became the leading economic power in the world in the 20th century, it also built up dominant military power. Despite its leading role in creating the United Nations and the rules of the U.N. Charter and the Geneva Conventions, it came to see strict compliance with those rules as an obstacle to its own ambitions, from the U.N. Charter’s prohibition against the threat or use of military force to the Geneva Conventions’ universal protections for prisoners of war and civilians.

In its “war on terror,” including its wars on Iraq and other countries, the United States flagrantly and systematically violated these bedrock foundations of world order. It is a fundamental principle of all legal systems that the powerful must be held accountable as well as the weak and the vulnerable. A system of laws that the wealthy and powerful can ignore cannot claim to be universal or just, and is unlikely to stand the test of time.

Today, our system of international law faces exactly this problem. The U.S. presumption that its overwhelming military power permits it to violate international law with impunity has led other countries, especially U.S. allies but also Russia, to apply the same opportunistic standards to their own behavior.

In 2010, an Amnesty International report on European countries that hosted CIA “black site” torture chambers called on U.S. allies in Europe not to join the United States as another “accountability-free zone” for war crimes. But now the world is confronting a U.S. ally that has not just embraced, but doubled down on, the U.S. presumption that dominant military power can trump the rule of law.

The Israeli government refuses to comply with international legal prohibitions against deliberately killing women and children, by military force and by deprivation; seizing foreign territory; and bombing other countries. Shielded from international accountability behind the U.S. Security Council veto, Israel thumbs its nose at the world’s impotence to enforce international law, confident that nobody will stop it from using its deadly and destructive war machine wherever and however it pleases.

So the world’s failure to hold the United States accountable for its war crimes has led Israel to believe that it too can escape accountability, and U.S. complicity in Israeli war crimes, especially the genocide in Gaza, has inevitably reinforced that belief.

U.S. responsibility for Israel’s lawlessness is compounded by the conflict of interest in its dual role as both Israel’s military superpower ally and weapons supplier and the supposed mediator of the lopsided “peace process” between Israel and Palestine, whose inherent flaws led to Hamas’s election victory in 2006 and now to the current crisis.

Instead of recognizing its own conflict of interest and deferring to intervention by the UN or other neutral parties, the U.S. has jealously guarded its monopoly as the sole mediator between Israel and Palestine, using this position to grant Israel total freedom of action to commit systematic war crimes. If this crisis is ever to end, the world cannot allow the U.S. to continue in this role.

While the United States bears a great deal of responsibility for this crisis, U.S. officials remain in collective denial over the criminal nature of Israel’s actions and their instrumental role in Israel’s crimes. The systemic corruption of U.S. politics severely limits the influence of the majority of Americans who support a ceasefire in Gaza, as pro-Israel lobbying groups buy the unconditional support of American politicians and attack the few who stand up to them.

Despite America’s undemocratic political system, its people have a responsibility to end U.S. complicity in genocide, which is arguably the worst crime in the world, and people are finding ways to bring pressure to bear on the U.S. government:

Members of CODEPINK, Jewish Voice For Peace and Palestinian-, Arab-American and other activist groups are in Congressional offices and hearings every day; constituents in California are suing two members of Congress for funding genocide; students are calling on their universities to divest from Israel and U.S. arms makers; activists and union members are identifying and picketing companies and blocking ports to stop weapons shipments to Israel; journalists are rebelling against censorship; U.S. officials are resigning; people are on hunger strike; others have committed suicide.

It is also up to the U.N. and other governments around the world to intervene, and to hold Israel and the United States accountable for their actions. A growing international movement for an end to the genocide and decades of illegal occupation is making progress. But it is excruciatingly slow given the appalling human cost and the millions of Palestinian lives at stake.

Israel’s international propaganda campaign to equate criticism of its war crimes with antisemitism poisons political discussion of Israeli war crimes in the United States and some other countries.

But many countries are making significant changes in their relations with Israel, and are increasingly willing to resist political pressures and propaganda tropes that have successfully muted international calls for justice in the past. A good example is Ireland, whose growing trade relations with Israel, mainly in the high-tech sector, formerly made it the fourth largest importer of Israeli products in the world in 2022.

Ireland is now one of 14 countries who have officially intervened to support South Africa’s genocide case against Israel at the International Court of Justice (ICJ) - the others are Belgium, Bolivia, Chile, Colombia, Cuba, Egypt, Libya, the Maldives, Mexico, Nicaragua, Palestine, Spain and Turkiyë. Israel reacted to Ireland’s intervention in the case by closing its embassy in Dublin, and now Israeli Foreign Minister Gideon Saar has smeared Ireland’s Taoiseach (prime minister) Simon Harris as “antisemitic.”

The Taoiseach’s spokesperson replied that Harris “will not be responding to personalized and false attacks, and remains focused on the horrific war crimes being perpetrated in Gaza, standing up for human rights and international law and reflecting the views of so many people across Ireland who are so concerned at the loss of innocent, civilian lives.”

If the people of Palestine can stand up to bombs, missiles, and bullets day after day for over a year, the very least that political leaders around the world can do is stand up to Israeli name-calling, as Simon Harris is doing.

Spain is setting an example on international efforts to halt the supply of weapons to Israel, with an arms embargo and a ban on weapons shipments transiting Spanish ports, including the U.S. naval base at Rota, which the U.S. has leased since it formed a military alliance with Spain’s Franco dictatorship in 1953.

Spain has already refused entry to two Maersk-owned ships transporting weapons from North Carolina to Israel, while dockworkers in Spain, Belgium, Greece, India, and other countries have refused to load weapons and ammunition onto ships bound for Israel.

The U.N. General Assembly (UNGA) has passed resolutions for a ceasefire in Gaza; an end to the post-1967 Israeli occupation; and for Palestinian statehood. The General Assembly’s 10th Emergency Special Session on the Israel-Palestine conflict under the Uniting for Peace process has been ongoing since 1997.

The General Assembly should urgently use these Uniting For Peace powers to turn up the pressure on Israel and the United States. The International Court of Justice (ICJ) has provided the legal basis for stronger action, ruling that the Israeli occupation of the Palestinian territories Israel invaded in 1967 is illegal and must be ended, and that the massacre in Gaza appears to violate the Genocide Convention.

Inaction is inexcusable. By the time the ICJ issues a final verdict on its genocide case, millions may be dead. The Genocide Convention is an international commitment to prevent genocide, not just to pass judgment after the fact. The U.N. General Assembly has the power to impose an arms embargo, a trade boycott, economic sanctions, a peacekeeping force, or to do whatever it takes to end the genocide.

When the U.N. General Assembly first launched its boycott campaign against apartheid South Africa in 1962, not a single Western country took part. Many of those same countries will be the last to do so against Israel today. But the world cannot wait to act for the blessing of complacent wealthy countries who are themselves complicit in genocide.

It’s a crisis. America is now among 11 nations deemed most threatened by both mis-and disinformation.

Little wonder that almost 90% of us fear our country is on the “wrong track.” And, President-elect Trump has led the way with 492 suspect claims in just the first hundred days of his first presidency. Then, before the 2020 vote, in a single day he made 503 false or misleading claims. By term’s end he’d uttered 30,573 lies, reports The Washington Post.

Now, he is joined by his promoter Elon Musk who is flooding his own platform X with disinformation—for example, about the bipartisan end-of-year funding deal.

The stakes are high as “post-truth is pre-fascism,” warns Yale history professor Timothy Synder in On Tyranny. Pretty grim.

Some play down our current “mis-and-disinformation” crisis as nothing new. Referring to the Vietnam War era, the Heritage Foundation says “Trump is not guilty of any lie, falsehood, fabrication, false claim, or toxic exaggeration that equals the lies of one past president [Lyndon Johnson] whose Alamo-sized ego caused the deaths of thousands of Americans.” In 2018, Heritage dismissed Trump’s lies as insignificant embellishment about “his wealth, his girlfriends of decades ago, or the size of his inaugural crowd.”

Yet, his more recent lies have had deadly consequences. Playing down the severity of Covid-19, Trump described it as “like the flu,” “under control,” and “already disappearing.” His casting doubt about protective measures likely contributed to “tens of thousands of unnecessary deaths,” reported health scientists.

After losing the presidential race in 2020, he repeatedly reinforced unsubstantiated questioning of electoral integrity. “Trump’s big lie”—sparking a violent insurrection on January 6—caused multiple deaths and helped trigger stricter voter-registration laws.

Trump’s actions may have taken us into a new era some call “post-truth” politics. So, what might this mean? And how might we learn from democracies standing up against mis- and disinformation?

Lies are about a particular event—as in former President Bill Clinton’s denial of an extramarital affair; whereas “post -truth” refers to a “shift to another reality” in which facts don’t matter anymore, observes Irish philosopher Vittorio Bufacchi.

The stakes are high as “post-truth is pre-fascism,” warns Yale history professor Timothy Synder in On Tyranny. Pretty grim.

But to step up most of us need to sense the possibility of success, or at least movement in the direction of well-being. So, where might we find grounds for honest hope? Let’s look at what courageous peer nations are doing.

Between 2011 and 2022, 78 countries passed misinformation and disinformation laws covering social media, including Germany’s “anti-hate-speech law.” Yes, some measures have been criticized for unintended consequences. In authoritarian states and those with weak guardrails against misuse, they can cause harm. As in the monarchy Bahrain. It used fake news laws to control content and threaten journalists with arrest. Some critics note that Germany’s anti-hate-speech risks “over-blocking” content.

But we cannot afford to give up.

Fact-checking news websites such as PolitiFact and Snopes—flagging content on social media—are valiant efforts. So far they’ve been only moderately helpful, but we can learn from their experience to create a holistic, long-term approach to countering mis-and-disinformation.

One key will be more independent and public journalism, including PBS and NPR, driven not by narrow profit or partisan agendas. As local journalism—perhaps easiest to hold accountable—has suffered a sharp decline in the past decades, state and local governments can step up with financial support and incentives. Here, many peer nations can inspire us.

Several have much to teach us about addressing disinformation with public news media. One exemplar is New Zealand with a unique approach. Since 1989, its Broadcast Standards Authority has offered an easily accessible, transparent online platform for any citizen to call out disinformation. The authority is tasked with investigating and requiring removal of what is both false and harmful material.

The BSA seems to have been both cautious and effective.

In the early years, complaints were upheld in 30% of cases. But by 2021-22, those upheld had shrunk to just under 5%. That’s a big change. And, a possible implication? Knowing one can be exposed for harmful lies can discourage perpetrators.

“BSA has, over more than three decades, overseen a standards system that has been a game changer in delivering on a vision of freedom in broadcasting without harm,” says its chief executive Stacey Wood.

Want to know more?

See our exploration in Crisis of Trust: How Can Democracies Protect Against Dangerous Lies?

Another key?

Strengthening media literacy. Sadly, as of 2023 only three states required media literacy classes. So let us quickly spread this opportunity to strengthen our ability not only to critically assess information but also identify motives behind the lies. The News Literacy Project provides helpful resources and programs.

Finally, we can encourage public debate and action to transform social media platforms into fact-based public discourse, functioning without harm. “At the end of the day,” observes Cornell psychologist Gordon Pennycook, “you cannot use psychological interventions to resolve this problem. There are structural, systematic, underlying problems that need to be dealt with.” Platforms such as X systemically spread disinformation.

So, what can we do?

Initiatives around the world are calling for public-or-user-owned platforms, such as the Platform Cooperativism Consortium. We can strengthen emerging alternatives like Bluesky or Mastodon, as we simultaneously urge for public regulation, such as the European Union’s Digital Services Act.

There’s no “silver bullet,” of course. But the good news is that many Americans are awakening to the disinformation crisis after experiencing tragically unnecessary Covid-19 deaths and facing today’s unprecedented lies from our president-elect.

For sure, deep change requires courage. So, with pounding hearts let us jump into this contentious arena. We can spark discussion-and-action commitments within our own families, friendship circles, schools at all levels, and workplaces. We can fortify our determination by exploring and sharing the innovations of others.

Together, we can make history as we help save our democracy from today’s deadly disinformation plague.

Once again, the holiday season is upon us. Whether we choose to celebrate Christmas, Hanukkah, Kwanzaa—or simply participate in ongoing festivities—we can all agree that it’s a special time of the year, graced by extended time with family and friends, good food, and merrymaking. For obvious reasons already enumerated in countless media outlets, it can also be a stressful time, a lonely time, and a sad time. This year, but a few weeks after the 2024 Presidential Elections, the stakes are even higher. The probability of uncomfortable dinners has grown, perhaps exponentially, as we take stock of how deeply divided our nation truly is.

2025 will bring us Trump Show 2.0, with the president-elect promising mass deportations of undocumented immigrants, many from Latin America. Indeed, immigration was THE issue of the 2024 presidential election, so conditions should be ideal for Christmas dinners, family get-togethers, and champagne toasts to be riven by divergent opinions on the influx of newcomers to the U.S., whose growth over the past years was significant enough to be labelled, at least by some news outlets, a “surge.”

How can we talk productively about our historical moment and ourselves as we sip eggnog beside the yule log and under the mistletoe? How can we gift our interlocutors with arguments wrapped not in vitriol but rather, history? How can we look beyond the ill-willed gaslighting particular to once-a-year family reunions? For some of us talking more cogently about these delicate topics may lessen the pressures of the holiday season. For others, a more humane and reasoned public discourse may be a matter of life and death. After all, nothing less than the weight of history itself has brought them here.

Migrants and residents, undocumented and documented individuals, are living the same neoliberal moment, in which wages are pushed down, the informal economy grows, and workers experience a new flexibility as precariousness.

While I teach Spanish and Latin American culture at the collegiate level during the day, I teach both ESL and a Spanish-language version of the GED during the evening hours. These two roles inform how I think through our present moment. Let’s give ourselves the gift of both history and experience for Christmas—headlines and heartbeats, doubt and decisions.

First is the formidable list of number ones we enjoy in the United States. We are both number one in terms of consumption and, less joyfully, prisons. We are simultaneously the biggest mall and the biggest jail the world has ever known. We are a nation defined by emphatic commerce on one hand and, on the other hand, consequences for those who don’t follow along.

Our bounties are especially notable in terms of foodstuffs and, perhaps even more notable in terms of who produces our food. Latinos make up roughly one-third of those employed in the poultry industry—a major economic force for documented and undocumented workers alike in places like rural Missouri, Virginia’s Eastern Shore, and Mississippi. Slaughtering chickens is no easy task, but catching chickens may be even more difficult. Latinos also have a foothold in the dairy industry; cows can, in fact, be milked three times a day, so those working will have to be available during the early morning hours. Gardening, construction, and drywall are also significant employers of Latino labor in the United States.

Beyond what newspapers and anthropologists tell us, I know that my ESL and GED students—some of them documented, some of them not—often work in these sectors. They also work in places that are closer to home for most of us: restaurants, hotels, and even Walmart. Indeed, the behemoth retailer Walmart was sued once some 20 years for abusing undocumented workers. If I am listening to my students correctly, it may be time again to examine the chain’s labor practices. Staffing agencies seem to be crucial in allowing the continued employment of undocumented labor: They provide a means to muddle up paperwork, intake non-English speakers, and forge employer-employee connections.

In both of my evening classes, my Latino students come and go. Their enthusiasm is palpable, but so is their exhaustion. Almost no one enjoys perfect attendance given the heinous flexibility of their jobs. Roofers can’t lay shingles in the rain. Housekeepers don’t clean rooms where guests haven’t slept. But when they are called in, they seemingly can’t afford to say no. Their education, naturally, is pushed on the proverbial backburner. It’s no fun being fungible.

In my GED class, we have studied how to develop arguments for the expository essay section. When asked to justify their claims in writing, my Latino students inevitably signal financial concerns as paramount. No matter the prompt and no matter what issue students are asked to weigh in on—junk food in high schools, obligatory military service, the humaneness of zoos, etc.—students consistently turn to personal finances to back their arguments. Maybe junk food is a low-cost alternative to cooking? Does the army pay well? Can zoos be self-funded? For my students, personal financial matters are preternaturally totalizing and give me a glimpse as to what they are really thinking about on a daily basis.

But again: the specter of deportation and possibility of changing hearts at the dinner table.

What the current debate misses is the deep history of these contemporary phenomena. Few Americans are aware of the Bracero Program or Operation Bootstrap, two accords (one between the U.S. and Mexico, another between the U.S. and Puerto Rico) that first brought thousands of workers to the lower 48. As American servicemen and women fought in two theaters overseas during World War II, workers were still needed to operate wood lathes, pull weeds, and lay railroad tracks. The briefest survey of amazing photographs culled from this mid-century moment make plain how we should think about that time. For Latino workers, it was a story of both commerce and control, opportunity and degradation, pride and poverty. Above all, what we should remember at the dinner table was that it was an invitation—an offer to enter the world’s largest mall and its biggest prison. During downturns—or, after soldiers returned to the U.S.—these actions were reversed.

The next bit of history that helps to explain our present moment takes us to 1994.

The late 1990s and early 2000s were a pivotal time in the southwestern United States borderlands. The passage of NAFTA in 1994 marked a new era of trade between the United States, Mexico, and Canada, aimed at boosting the flow of goods by loosening trade restrictions. This shift allowed the U.S. economy to dominate the Mexican market, leading to instability in Mexico’s labor force and driving many to seek opportunities in the U.S., resulting in a surge in undocumented crossings at the Southern border.

While NAFTA was intended to open borders for trade and close them for people, the increased migration highlighted the human impact of market policies. These changes coincided with a shift in U.S. border policy under President Bill Clinton, focusing on prevention through deterrence. This strategy involved concentrating surveillance forces in urban areas like El Paso and San Diego, pushing undocumented migrants into the harsh terrain of Arizona.

As immigration from Latin America has risen, anti-immigrant sentiment has also grown. You may see some of this at Christmas dinner. It has also led to stricter laws, a more controlled border, and U.S. pressure on Mexico to militarize. Discussion of building a wall on the U.S.-Mexico border may arise during your merrymaking, too. Most of us don’t realize that even in places with the roughest terrain, where building a fence would be amazingly difficult, individuals find ways to cross. Conversation may then turn to ideas about the “sovereignty” of a nation. But defining what a nation is has—and continues to be—a rather difficult task. Others gathered for the festivities may put forth that immigrants sap social services. The fact is, however, a great many undocumented workers pay taxes. Finally, others that are present at your Christmas gatherings may claim that migrants are stealing away jobs from other Americans. The truth may be, however, that migrants and residents, undocumented and documented individuals, are living the same neoliberal moment, in which wages are pushed down, the informal economy grows, and workers experience a new flexibility as precariousness.

Perhaps around the time that dessert comes out, you may introduce a bit of theory to your guests—the Foucauldian notion that workers, within capital, whether documented or undocumented, have been increasingly rendered “docile bodies” over the past 50 or so years: powerless, susceptible, and constantly in movement. This is not to say we should forever characterize migrants as passive agents, thrown to the wind, capable of little more than provoking liberal guilt. Rather, we should interrogate what about our present moment created the most flexible, most fungible, most vulnerable—and perhaps, most usable—population in the history of humanity.

I, for one, will raise a glass at the end of my Christmas meal, toasting my students, their work ethic, and their hopes for a better life. I hope they can return to my classroom in the New Year, not dragged off by the promise of another siding job, another garden gig, another chicken coop in the next state over.

By Ralph Nader December 23, 2024 Have you heard of the Capitol Hill Citizen newspaper – a quarterly 40-page print newspaper? We have been publishing it since the spring of 2022. It goes beyond “official source journalism” about Congress – the 535 Senators and Representatives – to whom “we the people” have delegated far too…