From a fan perspective, seeing the Knicks at Madison Square Garden, attending the US Open and sipping on Honey Deuces, and getting a seat to Olivia Rodrigo’s Unraveled Tour and sing-screaming to “Stupid Song” couldn’t be more different. But they do have one thing in common: They’re all expensive. 

Attending a live event has become a luxury purchase. Not that long ago in 2019, the average price of a concert ticket was $92. Maybe your seats weren’t great, but you could afford to be in the room. Now the average price has risen to around $133 for face value, and you’re likely spending way more to see the biggest names in music and sports. And thanks to Live Nation’s grip on the music and sports ticketing industry, ever-increasing service fees, and features like dynamic pricing and a ruthless secondary resale market, it certainly feels like we’re not seeing any relief from these sky-high costs anytime soon. 

For those who, say, can’t afford a $1,845 nosebleed ticket to see the Nova Knicks or a $2,000 Olivia Rodrigo resale seat, that means watching at home, or, if something isn’t eventually streamed, just missing out entirely. 

Looking at a seating map and seeing exactly how much ticket prices are changes your perception of the people lucky enough to attend. Like, what kind of person is spending that much money to sit in the very last row? How do they move through this universe with that much money to spend on bad seats? Is everyone secretly rich? Is this just a matter of fiscal irresponsibility? What is going on????

While Vox cannot speak to how everyone in attendance is paying for their tickets, we did talk to one person who was willing to share.

Enter: Craig, a 44-year-old living in the Bay Area, who makes roughly $180,000 per year. Craig spent more than $15,000 seeing Beyoncé’s Cowboy Carter Tour six times. This interview has been edited for length and clarity.

I want to know, are you a secret heiress? A billionaire oligarch? How does one afford to see Beyoncé six times? 

No, I’m not an heiress. I’m not unfortunately a billionaire — well, no, billionaires are bad, so don’t quote me on that. But it’s funny, one of the first things that comes to mind is my fandom for so many artists is expansive, but also I just spend money on certain things and not other things. My mom’s big motto in life was, “We’re making memories.” And so for me, I’m never going to regret going to Beyoncé six times. I’m going to regret only seeing her Renaissance tour twice.

One of my big regrets is not going to the Renaissance World Tour. 

I realized a lot of it is — it’s the only place where you can really have this communal experience with people that are in your same delusional mindset. With Cowboy Carter, I was at the very first show in LA, and then I had planned to go to three shows. But then it just became this thing that got into my soul and was like, “I need to keep going.” 

I don’t mind putting this into print or whatever, but I’m an addict, an alcoholic who’s been in recovery for decades, and so it’s easy for me to get hooked on things, but this is such a pure, very expensive way to have joy.

What was it about Cowboy Carter that compelled you to keep going? Was it because you knew Renaissance was amazing? Was it because you saw the movie?

Yeah, I saw the movie four times, but I just kind of knew. And my big three are Björk, Fiona Apple, and Beyoncé. And so Björk is in Iceland most of the time, thank God. Fiona Apple as much as —

Wait, wait, thank God because of your wallet?

Yes.

And Fiona Apple, I’ve seen her many times, but she just doesn’t tour. As much as I’d love her to, she just doesn’t. And I will see Robyn three times this year. I’ve seen Carly Rae Jepsen as many times as I can. But with Beyoncé, it’s like I know there’s a limited amount of how much she’s going to be doing what she’s doing. And with Act III at some point coming up, there’s a real push that I need to get as much as I can. And it sounds greedy, but I don’t feel bad taking up a ticket or space, when I enjoy it as much as I do. 

Take me through Cowboy Carter. You said you were going to initially see it three times.

Right.

You ended up seeing it how many times? Six?

I saw it six times.

Take me through that mentality — from three, how’d that balloon six?

I knew that I was going to see the first three shows. I had planned with a boyfriend who’s now an ex that was part of this whole process. I was going to go to the first show, the second show, and the third show, and then I was going to be done. But I knew in the back of my mind that I wasn’t probably done. And it’s so funny because my first outfit was pretty homegrown, a just-barely-put-together cowboy hat that I bought at the show. And then by the time I was at the fifth and the sixth show, I had a custom-made gold outfit.

It became this thing where I can’t quite explain how I ended up going to six shows other than it was this snowball rolling downhill.

What kind of tickets did you have? Were they all the same? 

I was in the section right by the catwalk. So it was like, Oh shit, I have to go do this again in the same spot. What I would’ve done differently is I would’ve seen it from way up above. I would’ve seen it from cheaper seats.

What was your more expensive ticket? 

I mean, honestly, my most expensive ticket was the last show and I paid $2,200. And at that point, it had built so much that there was no way I wasn’t going to not be where I wanted to be. It just was like, “Nope, this is happening.”

Tell me about that. You have amazing tickets. You’re up close… 

The last show, I was alone in Club Ho-Down. The amount of friends that I made and the amount of celebrities that I saw — to be in that environment with people that are on your same level and people are screaming and crying and know exactly what’s going to happen. And then when Shaboozey comes out or Jay-Z comes out or Destiny’s Child comes out — I’m getting chills just thinking about it. I can’t explain how I led myself to going to six, but once you’ve got $8,000 on your credit card, what is $12,000?

I — well, $4000 more? 

I know. 

Did you buy them all at one time or was it after you saw the first two?

I had planned the first three and then I had a friend who I went to New York with and we talked ourselves into going to New York. And then in the back of my mind I was like, “I have to go to the last two shows.”

I don’t regret it. I honestly probably will go to eight for Act III. But I will also be more strategic and I will get a seat that is a lot cheaper for a couple of shows. 

Now I’m going to ask you about the painful stuff. So you said if you’re already $8,000 down, what’s $12,000. But did you plan for it? Can you talk me through the financial planning of this?

There wasn’t really any. The breakup that I had happened after my New York show. And so I think my delusional sort of mania kicked in and I was like, “Fuck it, I’m going to spend $800 on an outfit that’s custom-made.” I’m going to go to both shows at the end and just — it got me through a really tough summer, and it was something that I don’t regret.

How does that work on a credit card? You said that you recently paid it off, right? Is that two years later?

It’s a year later. I live in San Francisco. I have a pretty good job, but also I work in education, and I’ve worked in education my whole life. So it was a lot of my interest, I paid a lot of fees, I’m sure, it takes so long to pay it off, and I was adding to it the whole year. I am not good with money. I wish I were. But again, I don’t have aspirations to own property yet, and I don’t have children.

Beyoncé is your big expense of the last couple years. 

Yeah, pretty much.

And again, I feel embarrassed about that a little bit because I have friends where one spouse, their entire salary goes to childcare. And I’m like, oh, that sounds not fun.

But think of it this way: that’s so much Beyoncé that you could be experiencing instead of having a kid.

Yeah. 

So Act III is rumored. Would you do it again?

Oh, absolutely. Like I said, I’m going to possibly go to, I think, between five and eight shows depending on. And one of my work friends, we talk about what’s happening in the world and we kind of decided that 2026 is Jay-Z’s year.

He has his shows. He has a show on her birthday. So I’m hoping that means the album doesn’t come out until 2027, which means the tour would be 2028, which means I have enough time to save, enough time to put some money away and be a little bit more strategic.

Do you have a limit of how much you’re willing to spend? 

On Beyoncé? I think the gay math, the boy math, that I do in my head is if I see it in chunks, it’s not as bad. The first time I looked at the whole thing was yesterday, and I looked at hotels and flights, merch, and tickets. But if I see it in little bits, I’m like, “Well, that’s not that much.” And I don’t think about how it adds up.

If Beyonce was like, “Oh, here’s my last show.” Is there a limit?

Anything up to $5,000 probably if it was a super important show or last show and I had the opportunity to do that. My parents have seen a lot of shows. That’s something sort of that I had grown up with — going to see artists.

And the real problem is Beyoncé has set this financial bar that now I almost feel like I could spend that kind of money on anyone. The fact that I’m seeing Robin in LA for $300, I’m like, “Oh my God, of course I’m going to go to three shows that week.”

Can I ask you, when was the first time you saw Beyoncé?

I mean, this is embarrassing to admit, but it was Renaissance. 

Oh my gosh. 

I know. And one of my big regrets is not going to see her earlier. 

It was 2016, and I just was like, “I can’t afford $1,000.” It’s ridiculous to say that now. And I’ve always been a fan. I had mix tapes in the ’90s with “Say My Name” and all the Destiny’s Child songs, and I’ve always been a fan of hers, but it really kicked into gear at self-titled or Lemonade. And that makes me sound like a fake fan, but that’s not true. It’s just seeing her live, it really brought it to a new level.

I was going to tell you that I saw her when she was touring that album —  the “Love on Top” album…

4.

4. I saw her at Barclays and it was only, I want to say, $200 for the lower bowl right off the floor. It’s obviously a lot more now. 

I honestly don’t know how some people afford it. I know some people save and save and save to go to one show and they don’t have a credit card or they don’t want to put things on a credit card. I know how privileged I am to have the ability to put something on a credit card, pay it off eventually — I live in the Bay Area and have a job that’s a pretty good job, blah, blah, blah.

@angelbuckens

We made it !!! Hey Chicago !! Cow boy Carter !!! #beyhive #beyonce #cowboycarter #chicago #cowboycarterbeyonce #tickets

♬ original sound – VicBlends

For a normie, what you spend on Beyoncé is mind-blowing, but I’m sure there are people that you met at Cowboy Carter that may have spent a lot more than you, right?

Oh, yeah. There was some video that popped up, I think it was from Renaissance, but it was like, “This is my 26th show.” And Beyoncé read the sign and stepped back a bit. I don’t remember what the exact number was [it was 35]. When I was in the pit at the very last show, it wasn’t abnormal to be where I was, and be like, “I’ve seen her six times.”

So when it comes to the most serious Beyhivers, some may consider you a casual fan?

Yeah. I mean, I’m in it, but I also feel like I’m a person that always goes to a lot of shows, and this is a little bit of a light year for me just because no one huge is touring for me, but she’s coming.

Rebecca Feinglos never expected to get divorced. She’d been with her partner for nine years, and married for six, but finally she had to admit to herself that her relationship had taken an abusive turn.

It was 2021 when she decided to end it. But Feinglos was surprised to discover then that the state she was living in, North Carolina, requires couples to reside in separate homes continuously for a full year before they can even file. 

“In amicable divorces you could lie, but I did not have an amicable divorce,” she told me. “It took 18 months for my divorce to be signed by a judge, and we did not have children.”

When she was finally out of her marriage she felt angry. She knew that many people could not afford to live in separate places, let alone pay for the attorneys needed to navigate all the fraught legal proceedings. Feinglos, a former state government employee with a master’s degree in public policy, started researching divorce laws nationwide. “It was so confusing even for me,” she said. “This was before ChatGPT, and all the Google search results were from family attorneys saying, ‘Oh this is really complicated, you definitely need to hire us to help you.’” She has spent the years since pushing to change those laws.

North Carolina is one of a handful of states, including South Carolina and Arkansas, that require couples to live separately for a set period before they can file for no-fault divorce. Most states make couples wait after they file, a “cooling-off” period meant to give spouses a chance to change their minds. In Wyoming, it’s 20 days. In Missouri, 30. In California, couples need to wait six months, and having children can stretch the timelines further. In some states the clock only starts when one’s spouse is formally served, which means a husband or wife who’s hard to track down can add weeks to the wait before it even begins.

“The system sets people up for conflict, sets people up for war,” said Erin Levine, a former divorce lawyer who founded a company that helps people navigate divorce outside the traditional law firm model. “In some states it’s called a ‘petition,’ in some states it’s called a ‘complaint,’ the forms say ‘spouse v. spouse’ — you are being sued.”

This issue runs, inevitably, into the culture wars. Today some conservatives are trying to make it even harder to get divorced, part of a broader push to strengthen the traditional nuclear family, built on the argument that children fare better when parents stay together. Over the last few years Republican lawmakers in states like Missouri, Tennessee, and Texas have considered new restrictions on no-fault divorce, which lets a person end a marriage without proving their spouse did something wrong. Others have proposed expanding so-called covenant marriages, which require counseling before the wedding and allow divorce only for specific reasons like adultery or abuse. House Speaker Mike Johnson has long endorsed making divorce harder, and Vice President JD Vance has complained that no-fault divorce allows people to “shift spouses like they change their underwear.” (Faced with criticism, a spokesperson later said that Vance does not support changes to divorce law.) 

But as more people come forward with stories of the financial cost, family stress, and even physical danger of extended divorce proceedings, there’s a growing push to address their complaints by making it easier to separate and divorce rather than harder. In 2023, Maryland lawmakers eliminated fault-based divorce entirely, cut Maryland’s separation mandate from a year to six months, and let couples count as separated even while living under the same roof. Washington, DC, has gone further. The same year, the DC Council unanimously scrapped its requirement that couples separate before divorce, and in Virginia, a law that took effect just last month lets people get in front of a judge on the first day they separate, instead of waiting six months or a year to sort out custody, support, and who stays in the house.

The issue has gotten more attention on social media over the last few weeks, as Jen Hamilton and Hadley (Vlahos) Fairley, two bestselling authors with more than 7 million followers across Instagram and TikTok, have started speaking out about how divorce laws in their respective states affect women like them. Hamilton, who is based in North Carolina and separated from her husband in June, has blasted the “asinine, outdated, and paternalistic laws” that keep people trapped in marriages, and has been fundraising on her platforms to help women afford to escape their unsafe relationships. 

Fairley, based in Mississippi, has been recounting the many court filings, legal fees, and emotional pain she endured for nearly three years trying to end her marriage. A no-fault divorce in Mississippi requires both spouses to agree to it, and when they don’t, the only way out is to prove in court that your spouse did something wrong, like adultery or desertion. In May, after eleven days in court, a judge finally granted Fairley a divorce, determining that her ex-husband’s conduct met the state’s legal standard for “habitual cruel and inhuman treatment,” citing a DUI he lied about under oath, more than $200,000 in secret trading losses that were mostly her earnings, a cancer diagnosis he faked to get her sympathy, and months of messages the judge called harassing and manipulative. Custody and the division of their assets are still unresolved, and more trial days are set for September.

“I understand burden of proof for a murder trial, but when it’s your personal life it’s very different,” Fairley told me. “I mean, you’re having our friends and our family go on the stand and testify to what they witnessed and it’s incredibly intrusive…even my therapy notes were subpoenaed.” 

Feinglos has been watching this all, and feeling cautiously hopeful that a reform bill pending in her state’s legislature might finally gain traction. “I do believe we’re at an inflection point,” she said.

The wait itself is the danger

Until the late 1960s, ending a marriage meant proving in court that your spouse had done something the state recognized as wrong, like cheating or abandonment. The burden fell on whoever wanted out, and meeting it often meant airing intimate details that judges weighed differently depending on whether a husband or a wife was asking. Starting in 1969, when California enacted the first no-fault law, states began letting couples divorce without assigning blame. Most followed within a decade, though holdouts like New York lingered. Divorce rates, already rising, peaked around 1980.

The laws mandating divorce waiting periods carry the logic of that earlier system. States tend to justify them by saying couples might reconcile if they’re given time. States also argue that decisions about custody and property shouldn’t be made quickly in the heat of the moment. Underneath both rationales is a theory that married households are valuable to the public, especially where children are involved, and so the state has a responsibility to slow couples down rather than treating marriages like contracts either side can simply cancel. 

Critics have long argued that the first rationale doesn’t hold up, since couples rarely reconcile during the waiting period and few people end a marriage on a whim. The second, they say, ignores what the wait actually does to someone leaving an unhappy or unsafe marriage, which is put them in danger. Separation is one of the most dangerous periods in an abusive relationship, and researchers have found that homicide risk climbs when an abuser senses they are losing control. Some research suggests a court’s intervention can make things worse rather than better if it provokes retaliation without actually getting the victim away from the abuser.

This danger has become a major issue in Virginia, where the push for divorce reform has been closely tied to a horrific murder-suicide by a prominent Democratic politician that made national headlines. 

Cerina Fairfax spent nearly two years in the same house as the husband she was trying to divorce, former Lt. Gov. Justin Fairfax. Up until last month, Virginia required couples with children to be separated a year before they could file, though permitted them to spend that year under one roof, so long as they could show a judge the marriage was genuinely over. When she finally filed for divorce in July 2025, her husband — a lawyer, representing himself — argued she hadn’t specified that she intended their separation to be permanent and in January a judge agreed with the technicality. Cerina Fairfax was told she could amend her complaint and try again. At some point during the proceedings she installed cameras throughout their house.

On March 30 a judge granted her sole physical custody and ordered Justin Fairfax to move out within a month. He was still there when he shot her in the house in the middle of April and then killed himself. Their two teenagers were home, and the cameras were recording.

Virginia’s new divorce law had just been signed days earlier. Tucked into it was an order for a work group to study whether the state should scrap fault-based divorce altogether. Activists pushing officials to take that next step point to the Fairfax episode, arguing it shows the dangers of prolonged divorce proceedings with a spouse who could become unstable or threatening. The report is due to the legislature in December.

Courtenay Schwartz, the legal and policy director for the Virginia Sexual and Domestic Violence Action Alliance, told me that while the change that just took effect in Virginia is a big one, her state’s laws still make it “very onerous” to get divorced, noting that the requirement to be separated still stands. 

“If you have someone interested in dragging out the process which Justin Fairfax was, it can really get drawn out and run in the hundreds of thousands of dollars,” she said. “It’s just prohibitively expensive, especially if you are experiencing domestic violence.” 

Schwartz says Virginia Democrats, who control both chambers of the legislature and the governor’s office, have grown increasingly interested in “access to justice” issues, meaning reforms that make the legal system navigable for people who can’t afford a lawyer. This has been driven partly by a 2022 Legal Services Corporation study that found 92 percent of the civil legal problems experienced by low-income Americans received inadequate or no legal help. 

North Carolina’s governor tells Vox he backs reform

Woodson Bradley, a Democratic state senator in North Carolina, won her first race in 2024 by just 209 votes, in a district the Republican-controlled legislature had redrawn the year before. She holds one of the most competitive seats in the state.

Now Bradley is the lead sponsor of SB 626, which would cut North Carolina’s separation requirement from a year to six months and let survivors of domestic violence file for divorce immediately, with no separation at all. It’s been stalled in committee for nearly a year and a half.

The issue is personal to Bradley, who experienced domestic violence in her 20s while living in another state. “When I left I was tracked down and beaten, and there were no real stalking laws back then in the 1990s,” she told me. She later moved to North Carolina, remarried someone “who I thought was wonderful, had two kids, and then things weren’t wonderful anymore.”

Bradley soon found herself in yet another abusive, coercive relationship, fleeing with her children, an experience she describes as “the most brutal thing I’ve ever been through.” It took her years to finally get a divorce, because her ex-husband continued to contest and extend the proceedings. 

Jen Hamilton, the famous labor and delivery nurse and author of the New York Times bestselling book Birth Vibes, has been raising the issue on her platforms and talking with Bradley about changing North Carolina’s laws.

“Jen speaking out is very much changing things,” Bradley told me, adding that although the issue is very partisan in North Carolina, five Republican lawmakers have reached out to her recently about her bill. Past efforts at reform in North Carolina have failed, including in 2015, 2019, and 2021.

North Carolina’s lame-duck Senate leader Phil Berger, who lost his Republican primary in March, did not return requests for comment but a spokesperson for North Carolina’s Democratic Gov. Josh Stein told me he supports reform. 

“North Carolinians don’t need government making their life harder, especially during some of their darkest times,” they said. “The Governor is willing to work with anyone to ensure our laws are more appropriate for the world we live in today.” Last year Stein signed a bill that made habitual domestic violence a felony.

For Rebecca Feinglos, the proposals moving through Raleigh are still catching up to what she already lived through.

“I remember the line in my divorce decree allowing me to change my last name back to my maiden name, my now late father’s last name,” she said. “Every moment I had to use my married name throughout the proceedings felt like a reminder that I was still stuck in a life I didn’t want.”

PALAU, Micronesia — The ride out to sea was, in a word, unpleasant. The coastal waters of Palau, an island nation in the western Pacific, are typically calm and electric blue, like what you might see on a screensaver or postcard. The country has put in place some of the world’s most rigorous protections to keep its marine environment pristine.

But on this particular morning in July, a super typhoon named Bavi was churning north of us in the Philippine Sea. Clouds darkened the water and battered us with rain as our boat seesawed through the swell toward the horizon. 

Our destination was what you might call a coral garden — a patch of coral, about two miles from shore, that scientists had planted over the past couple of years in an effort to rebuild a damaged reef. 

I was wet, cold, and nauseated when we arrived. So naturally, I strapped on a mask and jumped in. 

Below me, I could see dozens of star-shaped metal structures that researchers had attached to the seafloor. They were studded with corals in all forms and colors: neon blue antlers, fluffy green mittens, baseball-sized brains. Some of the corals looked like a collection of human vertebrae. Others resembled miniature pine forests. 

In the past two decades, governments, nonprofits, and even hotels around the world have dedicated hundreds of millions of dollars to replanting coral reefs like this one. Reefs are among the planet’s most endangered ecosystems: Rising ocean temperatures, pollution, and other threats have killed off an estimated 50 percent of live coral globally since the 1950s.

Those steep losses erode the irreplaceable benefits that coral reefs provide. They go far beyond tourism. Healthy reefs lessen coastal flooding from storms like Bavi. They also serve as nurseries and homes for larger animal species, such as endangered sea turtles and valuable fish like snappers and groupers that people eat. 

That’s why so much time and money has gone into restoring these ecosystems globally. Including here in Palau. A different typhoon and warming waters had destroyed some of the region’s coral many years ago, which caused the local fishery to decline, according to Sharp Sakuma, the governor of Ngaraard, a Palauan state where the coral garden is located. “It’s our food,” Sakuma said of fisheries. So a few years ago, he asked local researchers to help bring the reef back.

But reef restoration has a fatal flaw. 

Rising global temperatures are heating up the ocean and fueling marine heat waves, which kill reefs. That means that much of the coral that people painstakingly plant often ends up dying months or years later — simply because the ocean is too hot. It’s like planting trees to restore a forest that will soon burn in a wildfire. And this raises serious doubts about the role reef restoration can play in the recovery, and ultimate survival, of these iconic ecosystems.

The colorful antlers, mittens, and brains below me, however, were not your typical planted corals. 

They were different. 

And they may offer a new reason for hope.

These corals had all gone through what you might call a fitness test. In a lab on shore, marine scientists exposed them to extreme heat and scored them for their ability to tolerate warming. Corals on some of the metal stars here got top marks — they appeared resistant to heat. Those individuals may have more of a fighting chance at surviving as ocean temperatures rise. 

These sorts of fitness tests for corals are inexpensive and unexpectedly low-tech: They take place in cheap, store-bought picnic coolers, like what you might bring to the park. But by helping researchers identify the hardiest corals, these tests could help overcome one of reef restoration’s greatest challenges. 

Subjecting corals to hot water in a plastic cooler may sound ridiculous. Until you consider the stakes and the circumstances: As the planet warms, simply protecting our beloved, life-supporting places is no longer enough to save them. Neither is restoring them to some former state.

To truly help coral reefs endure, we may actually need to reengineer them.

Scattered across a remote stretch of the Pacific is a collection of more than 300 islands, which, together, form the nation of Palau. Many of those islands are no larger than a small house. And because they’re eroding at the base, they look as though they’re floating above the ocean. When you’re out at sea, it’s easy to pretend that you’re flying through the floating mountains of Avatar’s Pandora.

But the real magic is, without a doubt, underwater. 

Palau is surrounded by a vast network of coral reefs, many of which are in near-perfect condition. The region has more than 400 coral species — for comparison, the Caribbean has about 70 — which form the base of a thriving marine ecosystem. On just one weekend of diving there, I encountered close to 100 sharks, more than a dozen sea turtles, and three enormous manta rays. (In my more than 20 years of diving, I’ve rarely seen such an abundance of sea life.)

In the last two decades, Palau has become an epicenter for research on how warming affects coral reefs. Part of that is practical: The country’s abundant corals allow scientists to study how different species and populations respond to rising temperatures. It’s also home to a well-equipped marine lab, the Palau International Coral Reef Center.

But there’s also an urgent local need. Palau is deeply dependent on its coral reefs: Its fisheries and tourism make up more than a quarter of the country’s GDP. And while Palau is home to one of the world’s largest marine protected areas — which bans commercial fishing across 80 percent of its national waters — that does little to protect the reefs here from the existential global threat of ocean warming.

Why is heat such a dire problem?

One “coral” is not a single animal but a colony of hundreds or thousands of individual animals, known as polyps. Those polyps are all nearly genetically identical. They grow the colony — the coral structure that you see on a reef — by cloning themselves over and over again.

Polyps fuel themselves, in part, by grabbing particles out of the water with tentacles (up close, polyps look a bit like sea anemones). But most of their food, and much of their color, comes from a kind of algae that lives within their cells. Like plants, that algae photosynthesizes. And it passes the solar energy it generates onto the coral, in return for nutrients and a place to live.

This partnership fails under extreme heat.

When the ocean is too warm, the algae malfunction, and the polyps kick them out. As a result, the corals lose their primary source of food and their iconic color. That’s bleaching. A bleached coral is not dead but starving, and it will die unless the water cools back down. 

Yet there’s another key detail here: Some corals seem to resist this heat-fueled bleaching. They appear naturally more tolerant to warming than their peers. And you can actually see this when you’re snorkeling during a heat wave: Some corals will be bone white, whereas other colonies of the same species nearby will appear fully saturated. Heat tolerance is a trait with natural variation, like height or eye color in humans. 

It’s this detail that underpins efforts to make reef restoration less futile in a warming world. If scientists can find local corals that can tolerate warming, they can use them to regrow native reefs that might endure some degree of climate change, here and anywhere coral reefs can be found. 

What scientists in Palau are trying to demonstrate is how — absent a naturally occurring heat wave — you can identify those heat-tolerant colonies.

On a mostly clear afternoon in July, days before the typhoon grazed Palau, I boated out to a shallow reef with Steve Palumbi, a marine ecologist at Stanford University. He’s tall and thin and has white hair that he often pulls back into a short ponytail. 

Once the boat dropped its anchor in the sand, Palumbi and I jumped in, along with three researchers from the Palau International Coral Reef Center (PICRC). I felt like I was swimming in a tropical fish tank. The water was clear and full of silvery fish. A carpet of colorful coral coated the seafloor. Every hole and crevice was occupied — by a giant clam, a spiky starfish, a sea cucumber, a furry crab. The reef was a giant apartment building with a cast of unusual tenants.

I followed Palumbi and the PICRC researchers over to metal structures on the reef that his team had built. They looked like sunken bed frames, and like those metal stars, they were covered in pieces of coral.

These corals are some of Palumbi’s guinea pigs. 

Over the last two years, researchers in his lab at Stanford have been subjecting them to a variety of different heat tests and scoring their performance. The concept is simple: Put the corals in a tank, crank up the temperature, and measure how quickly each one bleaches. The colonies that stay colorful as the temperature soars — the “winners” — may be more tolerant to warming.

There are several different ways to measure a coral’s tolerance to warming in a lab. Some tests expose corals to moderately high temperatures over weeks, whereas others blast them with extreme heat over days, or even hours. Longer-lasting tests tend to better represent a natural heat wave — what corals will actually face in the years to come. But they’re expensive, time-consuming, and require expertise. That’s a problem for people who are racing to rebuild damaged reefs, especially in poor regions that lack fancy marine labs and funding.

Working with PICRC, the Nature Conservancy, and other partners, Palumbi’s lab has been trying to demonstrate that the quick and cheap version of these heat tests — using picnic coolers to pressure-test corals over a few days — works well enough. They can help identify heat-tolerant corals and, thus, improve reef restoration, all within one work week, and on a low budget. 

That afternoon, Palumbi was collecting corals from those metal frames to test at PICRC. Using wire cutters, Palumbi and the other researchers snapped off branches of coral from the individual colonies. Breaking fragments of coral off a colony is not unlike taking clippings from plants — the “donor” colony continues to grow, even as parts of it are removed. 

After filling plastic bins with dozens of coral fragments across three species, the researchers brought them to the boat, loaded them into a large container full of seawater, and then we headed back to shore. 

It is hard to put a price tag on coral reefs, but those who have tried say it is quite a lot.

The authors of one study published in 2024 estimated that reefs in the Asia Pacific, which includes Palau, Australia, and Indonesia, among other countries, contribute about $25 billion a year on average to the region’s economies for their role in supporting fisheries and tourism alone. 

That doesn’t include the damage that reefs offset during tropical storms. Coral reefs are self-regenerating seawalls that can reduce wave energy — dulling the fiercest brunt of a hurricane making landfall, for example — by an average of 97 percent. In the US, economists estimate that reefs save the country more than $1.8 billion a year just in avoided flood damage. Globally, the cost savings from coral reefs are far higher. 

So it’s no surprise that people are so eager to rebuild reefs when they collapse.

To restore these ecosystems, people typically harvest fragments of coral from the wild and grow them in a tank on land or in a “nursery” in the ocean. Then they plant them, one piece at a time, on the seafloor, often using an adhesive putty. 

Reef restoration has grown into a global project of enormous scale: A network called the Coral Restoration Consortium counts more than 900 reef restoration efforts worldwide led by more than 350 organizations. By one estimate, groups have spent more than $250 million on reef restoration over roughly the last decade. 

But as important as those efforts may be, many of them haven’t worked — they haven’t actually helped coral reefs grow back. “Show me a square mile of reef that has been [successfully] restored,” Palumbi said. “There isn’t one.” 

At the heart of that failure is climate change: Prolonged bleaching kills off much of the planted coral, undoing a tremendous amount of effort.

One of the most extreme examples of this is in Florida. In the last three decades, organizations have planted tens of thousands of corals in the Florida Keys, which is home to the world’s third-largest barrier reef. I visited in 2022 and saw the progress of restoration firsthand — there were beautiful fields of planted staghorn and elkhorn, two federally threatened coral species. Some colonies were more than a meter wide. I wrote a story about how it was reviving Florida’s reef. 

Then in summer 2023, a record-breaking heat wave struck. The reefs turned a ghostly white. And eventually, nearly all of the staghorn and elkhorn coral in the Florida Keys — including the vast swaths of replanted corals — died, becoming functionally extinct. It was one of the more devastating things I’ve seen in my time covering the biodiversity crisis.

There are similar examples from around the world — in Colombia and Costa Rica, for example, along with Indonesia and the Seychelles. 

It’s not that restoration groups are unaware of this problem. Scientists have been studying bleaching for many years in search of solutions. In Florida, researchers are testing out what happens if you cross-breed corals from South Florida with colonies from a warm reef in Honduras, which have a natural ability to withstand higher temperatures. Perhaps their hybrid babies will be more likely to survive the next heat wave. But most of these approaches are time-intensive, costly, run by teams of PhDs, or stuck in the lab.

“The lab science is cool,” Palumbi told me. “But it’s going too slowly. We don’t have time to wait.”

The outdoor research space at PICRC looked like a typical marine lab — a labyrinth of pipes and pumps and, of course, tanks full of sea creatures, which in this case included corals, urchins, and giant clams that would abruptly close if you got too close. It looked appropriately science-y. With the exception of one wooden shelf. On it were eight blue and red plastic picnic coolers, in which Palumbi’s team is doing the bulk of its heat testing.  

After returning to shore with bins full of coral fragments, Palumbi put some of them into the coolers, which were fitted with small heaters and pumps. The water inside was around 30 degrees C (86 degrees F). That’s the average high temperature for waters in this region, and the baseline for the test he was about to run.

Then Palumbi, rather unceremoniously, cranked up the dial. 

Over each of the next four days, the water in half of the coolers would hit a higher temperature, before returning to the baseline of 30 degrees. On day one, for example, it would reach 34; on day two, it would hit 35; and so on. And each morning, Palumbi would assess the fragments for bleaching. Although these tests run for only a few days, they’re meant to mimic what some corals might experience at low tide during a heat wave, Palumbi said.

I visited the lab early one morning, after just one day of heat stress — after the coolers had reached 34 degrees. Palumbi laid the fragments out on a white grid to evaluate their color, ranking them from one (no bleaching) to five (fully bleached). They were shaped like twigs and still had their normal orangy brown color. No bleaching yet. By the next morning, however, the corals appeared more varied: Some were starting to pale and others remained saturated.

On the last morning of the test — after the coolers had reached 37 degrees, or close to 100 degrees F — nearly all the fragments were white, resembling cauliflower florets. They had expelled their algae. And yet a handful of the fragments still appeared mostly brown. Even after getting blasted by extreme heat, they hadn’t bleached. 

“Those are the champions,” Palumbi said.

Palumbi believes that quick heat tests like this stand to benefit restoration projects across the tropics. The equipment, including four coolers, costs less than $1,000, according to Courtney Klepac, a researcher in Palumbi’s lab, who studies heat testing. Groups that are rebuilding reefs can essentially run the corals they harvest through these tests, and then only plant the champions. 

That’s precisely the idea behind a project Klepac leads called the Coral Futures Academy. She’s been helping environmental groups across the Pacific integrate these low-overhead heat tests into local reef restoration efforts. And these actually include the coral garden I snorkeled during the typhoon: All the pieces of coral there had gone through similar heat tests. 

As promising as this approach sounds, however, there is an important caveat: These tests are only useful if they actually predict which corals are more likely to survive under real-world warming. And so far, scientists haven’t proven that. 

Previous studies comparing short heat tests to those that are longer and more faithfully replicate a real heat wave show mixed results; the winners of one are often not the winners of the other. It suggests that surviving a short blast of heat requires different skills than withstanding warmth that lasts for weeks. 

Some researchers have also measured what happens to corals that went through an even faster one-day test after they were put in the ocean and then experienced a real heat wave. The champions in those rapid tests were not always more heat-tolerant in the wild. 

Ilan Bubb, a marine biologist at the University of Amsterdam who’s studied heat tests, says it’s like trying to predict a person’s marathon time based on how well they perform in a sprint. “We know there’s some correlation there, but how good is that correlation?” he said. “How much information you can get about that marathon from a hundred-meter sprint is still just undetermined.” 

Palumbi, Klepac, and their colleagues have been exploring this question, too. They’ve compared bleaching scores from heat tests that last for three or four days to those that last for roughly two weeks. The results appear to be similar, Klepac said: On average, the same corals resisted or succumbed to bleaching in both experiments.

Klepac has also studied what happens to heat-tested corals when an actual marine heat wave hits. At the coral garden I visited with those metal stars, PICRC researchers planted the heat-test winners as well as the poorer performers, as a point of comparison. And as Klepac’s unpublished research shows, the winners of the short heat tests survived better during a bleaching event in Palau in 2024, compared to the losers. 

“I am probably one of the few people that you will talk to that kind of low-key gets a little excited for bleaching events,” Klepac told me. “It is a very true test of what we’ve been doing. If we’re trying to market this approach, I want to feel confident that what we’re prescribing actually works.”

There are other drawbacks to this testing approach. For one, it relies on a visible trait — whether a coral resists bleaching or not. That trait, however, doesn’t always indicate whether the coral has the genes to resist bleaching. The colony may have just been healthier going into the test than its peers. Two runners, for example, might get different times in a 100-meter sprint, not just because of their genes but because of how much rest they got the night before. 

This matters when you’re trying to rebuild a reef: Typically, you want the coral colonies you plant to eventually reproduce and create heat-tolerant babies. That only happens if the parents have heat-tolerant genes. 

And there are other traits that corals need to survive, beyond the ability to withstand warming. 

“It’s not just about heat tolerance,” said Liam Lachs, a coral researcher at University of Queensland in Australia who has extensively studied the value of different heat tests. 

By only planting the corals that perform well on these heat tests, you might miss colonies that have other important strengths, such as the ability to withstand disease. In fact, future research may reveal that testing corals for one of these other traits may ultimately be a better predictor of their survival in the era of climate change, says James Guest, a reef ecologist at Newcastle University in England.

Palumbi readily admits that the short picnic cooler tests are not perfect. But the important question, he says, is whether they are good enough — good enough to start using them now to help reefs as the science around fitness testing gradually improves. 

That much is clear, he says, and several other researchers I spoke to agreed. While the utility and accuracy of short heat tests is not yet proven, people who want to rebuild reefs should still use them, they said. For restoration, there simply aren’t many better alternatives. 

“It’s quick, it’s easy to do, people can apply it relatively straightforwardly, and it offers some kind of test,” Guest told me. “Coming up with these practical approaches makes sense.”

The sun was still low in the sky as Palumbi and I strapped on our tanks and weights and plunged into the ocean near one of Palau’s floating islands.

Sinking down felt like descending onto an alien planet. There were rolling hills of branching coral and stacks of plate coral the size of merry-go-rounds. Schools of colorful fish flew over them, like flocks of birds across a woodland.

Toward the end of the dive, we came across a single coral colony as large as a suburban home. The surface was lumpy and covered in what looked like large bulbous fingers. Given its size, the coral was likely at least three hundred years old.

When we were back on the boat, I asked Palumbi what he thought of the reef. “It doesn’t get better than this,” he said. 

Isn’t it arrogant to think we can recreate, or even fortify, something as complex as a coral reef? 

There could have been 200 species of coral on this one reef alone, Palumbi said, some of which may still be unknown to science. If this is what coral reefs are supposed to look like, even our best science probably can’t recreate them.

It seems like our time would be far better spent trying to prevent reefs like this from dying in the first place. “We all know that we have to solve the bigger problem,” Guest said. “If we don’t reduce carbon emissions and we don’t deal with climate change, nothing we do is going to help corals.”

But the way Guest and other scientists see it, restoration — and the science to improve it — is not about recreating thriving coral reefs. The goal is much more humble, and much more depressing: to prevent as many species and reefs as possible from disappearing altogether so that, if and when the planet cools back down, there’s still something left to regrow.

Reef restoration encompasses a broad range of approaches, Guest said, meant to “stop species and populations from going off into an extinction vortex.” It would seem anything that might help that cause even a little bit — including a handful of plastic picnic coolers — is worth a try.

Hi readers! Shayla Love here, science journalist and longtime fan of Your Mileage May Vary. I’m honored to be subbing for Sigal Samuel while she’s out on parental leave. I’m diving into your questions as a way to help understand human nature and our choices through multiple lenses: philosophical, psychological, and beyond. Please send in any emotional, body/brain, sociological, perceptual, or other kind of life quandaries you might have.

I am a (gracefully?) aging mother of three and proud grandmother of four. I keep hearing about how my generation (okay, I am a boomer) is hoarding wealth and failing to pass it down. 

When I look at my lifestyle, I’m facing a fork in the road. Either I splurge on a lovely retirement, or I save so my kids and their kids can have an easier life. We’re all middle-class, so this is not a question of survival. The kids have college funds. Do I owe it to my descendants to scrimp as I age? Surely it’s not right for me to spend my savings on bucket-list vacations…How should I balance spending on myself and on the others that will come after me?

Dear Rainy Day Funder,

I’m so glad to hear you’re not in financial survival mode. But you are facing some economic constraints: You can’t splurge on a luxurious retirement while at the same time saving a substantial nest egg for your kids and grandkids. 

It sounds like this feeling of either-or is causing you some anguish. The instinctual response is, as you suggest, to hoard as much as possible for your progeny to use later on. But at the same time, that feels like it’s zero-summing your own experience in your golden years. 

So I’d like to introduce you to an economic thinker who has some advice that might surprise you. John Maynard Keynes, 19th-century British economist, would say: Don’t save your money!

Keynes wrote that when times are tough, people react by keeping their money close, and not spending it. But this sets in motion what he called the paradox of thrift. One person’s expenses are actually another person’s income, he pointed out; if everyone saved their money, no one would make money either, and a recession could drag on and on. In the end, people’s savings would, paradoxically, go down, even though they were scrimping. 

We can apply the paradox of thrift to your own family as a mini-economy. Inheritance has traditionally worked by setting aside large chunks of your assets to pass along to your children and grandchildren — which could be helpful when the day of windfall comes. But why wait? And would waiting actually stymie your family’s financial potential? 

In past generations, an inheritance like this often happened far earlier. I’m comforted that we are living longer (an average of a decade or more longer) than in the mid-20th century, but this sets up new issues, as you’re stuck in, with when and in what quantity to transfer any extra resources. 

Now, as people retire with decades of good life to enjoy ahead of them, they are often doing so at the very same time their adult children are the most financially stressed: They are trying to buy homes, they’re in the busiest middle part of their careers, and many have children of their own they’re raising and trying to save for. 

This doesn’t mean you have to give away all your money to your family so that they can spend it on the pleasures you have given up. Keynes wasn’t anti-savings so that money could be spent frivolously. He did believe that spending money was one of the best ways to give the greater economy a boost. Perhaps there are ways you could think about spending your money that stimulate your family’s internal economy, that also help you enjoy your retirement. 

For example, you could invest in a lakeside property to kick your feet up at — an asset that will appreciate in value over time and be sold at a profit, or be passed down through the generations to enjoy for many summers to come. Maybe you assist your children in buying a home — one with a comfortable guest suite. You could invest in a business your children want to start, and help them grow something that could accrue more wealth over time. Using your money these ways may even feel more like splurging than scrimping! Yet, it ideally would achieve both: a fun way to spend your hard-earned money now, and create more abundance for your family’s future. 

A hidden bonus of non-traditional inheritance moves like these is that they all involve spending more time together with your family and potentially even strengthening those relationships along the way. The Greek philosopher Aristotle wrote in The Nicomachean Ethics that there were three kinds of friends. Some are based on utility, and exist only because of what people can get from one another. Other friendships are based on pleasure, when you like doing things with someone. Finally, friendships of virtue persist because you stick by people who inspire you by their strong character. Simply setting aside your money is a relationship that leans utilitarian. Working on a shared meaningful project could help deepen your relationships with your kids and grandkids in those pleasurable and virtuous directions.   

Speaking of, I don’t think you need to be making these decisions alone. 

You used an interesting word in your question: Do you, as an individual, owe it to your family to set them up with a more comfortable financial future, at the expense of personal indulgences? A lot of the discussion around older generations’ money, and whether or how they should pass it on, avoids dealing with this sticky moral component. Why should parents give their kids money? 

I think there’s clarity to be found in thinking more closely about why we owe each other anything.  

There are few better thinkers to turn to than Confucius to consider our obligations to family. The fifth-century Chinese philosopher believed that we can’t understand ourselves only as individuals. You are nobody when you are alone; you only come alive as a mother, a daughter, or a sister. These relational roles each come with specific duties and ways of interacting. Successfully fulfilling these roles within the family has a bigger impact, according to Confucius. It’s what creates the foundations for a harmonious and functional society. For children in this web of relations, it’s critical to uphold filial piety, or the need to respect, honor, and care for parents as well as all of their other elders and ancestors. 

Filial piety has, over the years, been criticized for being too rigid, and setting overly high expectations for blind obedience and conformity in children. So I’ve been interested to see the concept of reciprocal filial piety emerge. In reciprocal filial piety, children have a genuine feeling of gratitude to their parents for raising them, and any obligation they feel is heartfelt — they want to return the favor and care for their parents too. 

As a half-Chinese person, I find it interesting that in family life in the West, filial piety is often reversed. There’s a lot of air time discussing what parents owe their children, and not so much the other way around.

For example, I noticed that you don’t mention how your family intends to care for you in the future, or what they might feel a sense of owing you. If you do take a Keynesian approach to your family and decide to spend your money in ways that could benefit everyone, it might be worth engaging in some Confucian-tinted conversations not only about what you owe everyone else, but what you all appreciate about each other.

You can reflect, together, on how your family is stronger because of all the ways you’ve chosen to look after one another, not only because of how much money is in the bank. 

Bonus: What I’m reading

• I think it’s worth having a copy of The Analects of Confucius lying around, which is full of nuggets of wisdom. One morsel I recently read was about how to best get along with others: “The gentleman harmonizes without being an echo. The petty man echoes and does not harmonize.” The lesson is that we don’t gain much by blindly following and copying what other people do. The most harmonious way to be in a society, or even a family, is to have interlocking roles that complement each other, like different pitches do in a choir. 
  
• I thought a lot about getting older when reading this piece on death doulas by Alexandra Schwartz in The New Yorker. It serves as a reminder that people outside of the immediate family can also help with life’s hardest transitions. 
  
• And, for something fun: I enjoyed this investigation by Natalie Wolchover in Quanta on why she (or anyone) is left-handed. She explores left-handed stigma and neuroscience, as well as a theory about humans using their right hands because they once were better to win fights with. 

No matter how hard we try, remembering anything that happened to us before the age of, say, 3 or 4 years old feels impossible. Even memories before 7 years old feel hazy and fragmented.

Our brains just aren’t built to store specific memories from our first few years, something known as “infantile amnesia.”

And chances are, even the earliest memories we think we have might just be amalgamations of stories we’ve been told, images cribbed from old family snapshots and home videos, or scenes we’ve borrowed from movies or TV shows.

So does it really matter if it happened, if we can’t really remember it?

Yes, science says. Even if we don’t have a specific memory of what happened when we were babies, those experiences leave lasting impressions on us of being safe and being loved, which shapes how we form relationships later in life. But whether babies are able to encode and store permanent memories is still an open question.

Columbia University cognitive psychologist Tristan Yates put babies in MRI machines and showed them a series of images, and found that the babies tended to stare longer at an image they’d been shown before, suggesting that they remembered seeing the image the first time.

“We are showing that they’re able to form some memories,” Yates said. “The hippocampus is capable of forming specific memories over a few minutes, but now we need to start doing the research that can get us at longer durations, that can get at more complex memories.”

One theory for infantile amnesia is that an infant’s brain is prioritizing learning general skills, like how to walk or talk or eat, or learning to detect patterns like a bedtime routine, rather than storing specific memories that aren’t necessary for survival.

Noam Hassenfeld spoke with Yates and Dr. Dana Suskind, a professor of surgery and pediatrics at the University of Chicago, on the latest episode of Explain It to Me, Vox’s weekly call-in podcast.

Suskind studies early childhood development and the important role that parents and caregivers play, and she told Noam about how our early childhood experiences can shape us.

Below is an excerpt of their conversation, edited for length and clarity. You can listen to the full episode on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, or wherever you get your podcasts. If you’d like to submit a question, send an email to askvox@vox.com or call 1-800-618-8545.

You started out as a cochlear implant surgeon and now you’re working on childhood development. How did that happen? What’s the connection there?

It actually makes a whole lot of sense. When I first started our pediatric cochlear implant program at the University of Chicago, I started implanting cute little kids who all look like they had the same potential to thrive after implant surgery, and found very quickly that I could implant two children who looked very much the same, who had parents who loved them equally, with the same technology, but they would have very different outcomes, with one of them really thriving after surgery in terms of language learning and trajectories, and others barely able to communicate. 

It was that experience and seeing these huge differences in outcomes after the same surgery that led me into this incredible world of childhood development and the importance of the early years and the importance of parents.

Humans come out with brains that are literally only one-third the size of adult brains. That’s very different than any other species. It’s why the puppy can start feeding itself pretty quickly and start walking, whereas the human infant is helpless. In those first three years of life, 85 percent of the physical brain is built during those periods of time. 

A million new neural connections happen every second. The environmental input, the input from parents and caregivers — every serve and return, every touch, every gaze — literally is helping shape and strengthen the neural connections that happen in our brain. 

The brain isn’t being just built for your child’s vocabulary development or their literacy ability. It’s building their social brain, their ability to relate to and connect to the rest of the world. The relationships and the expectations for relationships are built in those early years.

Tell me if this is maybe an oversimplification, but I’m a parent of a young son; he’s a little over 7 months old. And I feel like what I’m doing when I’m raising him is building the structure of his brain, or building the architecture, and all the other stuff, all the specific things, are going to fill in all the rooms of the big building that we’re constructing together. But he’s not going to start filling those in with specific ideas or specific memories until later on in his development. 

The analogy you make is exactly right. I think of building the physical brain — if you were thinking about it through a computer lens — as building the hardware, the firmware, the memory, the RAM. I think of K-12 as really important, but I think of those as software updates. But these early years are building that infrastructure.

“I want you to not strive for perfection, because the one thing that AI has shown us is that humans don’t grow from perfection and frictionless existence.”

At the end of the day, it’s your attachment with him, being the perfectly imperfect parent. I want you to not strive for perfection, because the one thing that AI has shown us is that humans don’t grow from perfection and frictionless existence. So feel okay every time you misstep, misunderstand and repair, because that is, for him, building the understanding of, “I can be loved by another human who missteps but is able to repair.” He is starting to understand how to expect to be treated. 

That’s why it’s almost like you’re building the relationship map for him that’s going to allow him in the future to have expectations of how he’s going to be treated and loved by an imperfect human: building that strong bond, showering him with rich language, that back and forth, looking at him as a conversational partner from day one. 

It’s interesting you brought up AI and friction. What do you think this idea of a more frictionless existence is going to start meaning for kids?

I had a book that just came out on this called Human Raised, and that’s a lot of the argument of the book. Children learn from imperfect parenting through friction, through the productive struggle. And we’re seeing that friction that we’ve always looked at as a bug in the system — like, “Oh my gosh, I wish this was a more frictionless existence with the other humans in our world” — what we’re finding is that it is key for relationships development, learning to have relationships, and actually even learning. 

That’s why, writing an essay with an LLM — you don’t remember it at the end of the day. There’s something about what happens in the brain that we’ve discounted on the friction side of things. So I actually think in some ways friction should be the word of the year, and we need to embrace it a little bit more. We don’t need to friction-max, but we do need to see the power of the friction.

It sounds like even if my son is going to forget all of this, maybe on a deep level it’ll stick with him. But should I still have a nice big 1-year-old birthday party?

Heck yes. Because you’re doing it partially for you — and the grandparents, let’s be clear. Those are wonderful moments that they do remember at some level. My son, who’s now 20-something in medical school, was obsessed with Thomas the choo-choo train. I still have the box of the Thomas the choo-choo train. 

He may not remember exactly that birthday party and the cake that I worked very hard on, but it’s even fun to talk about it now in his twenties. So yes, do enjoy every moment. Don’t get obsessed, like everything has to be perfect, but those are memories for everyone.

Just last month, I marked my 25th year as a professional journalist, which I guess means my journalistic career is old enough to rent a car, no questions asked. Work in the news for that long, and you’ll occasionally find yourself surprised by things you published in the past. Like, I had all but forgotten that I had written this Time magazine cover story in 2008:

A couple things here. One, as the cover demonstrates, journalistic sensitivity was…less than ideal then, to say the least. And two, over a quarter-century occasionally covering obesity (both childhood and adult), that story only seemed to go in one direction: worse.

It wasn’t for lack of trying. We put calorie counts on menus, taxed soda (well, in some places), built workplace wellness programs, and funded a small library of diet research. We deplored food deserts and promoted farmers’ markets. We told people — again and again — to eat less and move more. But the lines just kept going up.

By the CDC’s measured survey, the share of US adults with obesity did not change meaningfully between 2013 and 2023. The age-adjusted obesity rate sat at 40.3 percent, while the age-adjusted severe obesity climbed from 7.7 percent to 9.7 percent over the same stretch.

While the question of weight in America is inextricably tied to body image and moralizing, those numbers had a deadly effect. One demographic model estimated that obesity was associated with roughly 18 percent of deaths among Black and white Americans ages 40 to 85 between 1986 and 2006. From diabetes to kidney failure, heart disease to sleep apnea, obesity is the delivery system for other diseases.

Which is what makes a Gallup report published in July so surprising. In Gallup’s self-reported height-and-weight series, the US adult obesity rate fell to 36.4 percent, down from a peak of 39.9 percent in 2022. Over roughly the same period, the share of adults who said they were currently taking a GLP-1 drug for weight loss rose from 3 percent in 2024 to 11 percent in 2026 — approximately 29 million people. While this only shows correlation, not causation, and Gallup’s self-reported measure should not be compared directly with the CDC’s measured rate, the timing is suggestive to say the least. 

And the weight might be the least interesting thing about these drugs. 

Semaglutide — the molecule sold as Ozempic and Wegovy — was first developed and approved as a treatment for type 2 diabetes, not obesity. It was only after earlier GLP-1 drugs and diabetes trials showed substantial effects on appetite and weight that researchers deliberately tested a higher dose for obesity, resulting in Wegovy in 2021. 

But as it turns out, the list of things that have been noticed happening on the side with GLP-1s has gotten so long it’s begun to eclipse the main event. The coverage of GLP-1s has barely kept up with this news, because weight loss is what made these drugs famous and what we continually obsess over. But it turns out, weight loss may not be what they’re best at.

Side effects may include…

Let’s start with sleep apnea, which, untreated, drives up blood pressure, strains the heart, and raises the risk of stroke. These are people whose breathing stops dozens of times an hour, all night, every night. Two year-long trials put 469 of them on tirzepatide — the drug sold as Mounjaro and Zepbound — and cut those interruptions by more than half. Roughly half the group finished the year with no apnea at all, or with so little left that they stopped being tired all day.

Then there are the kidneys. A major trial followed 3,533 people with type 2 diabetes and chronic kidney disease for a median of 3.4 years. Semaglutide reduced the relative risk of a composite of kidney failure, a sustained loss of at least half of kidney function, or death from kidney-related or cardiovascular causes by 24 percent; all-cause mortality was 20 percent lower.

And the liver: A trial, still underway, biopsied the livers of 800 people whose organs had grown fatty, inflamed and scarred and randomly assigned them to semaglutide or a placebo. After 72 weeks the inflammation had cleared in nearly 63 percent of those on the drug, with no worsening of the scarring, against 34 percent on placebo. 

And the knees: In 407 adults with obesity and moderate knee osteoarthritis, pain scores on the 0-100 WOMAC metric fell 41.7 points against 27.5 on placebo. 

And to top it off, a 17,604-person trial of participants who were overweight or obese but did not have diabetes found a 20 percent drop in major cardiovascular events.

These results may not be as grabby as cultural debates over “Ozempic face,” but they deserve far more attention.

Medicine’s happy accidents  

As GLP-1s — which in part came out of a hormone in Gila monster venom — demonstrate, medicine has long found some of its biggest wins in the margins of drugs ostensibly built to do something else entirely. 

Sildenafil, better known as Viagra, began life at Pfizer as a candidate treatment for the heart disease angina. It failed at that, and its now-famous use turned up in data as a side effect in what must have been a very interesting trial for its subjects. Minoxidil (Rogaine) was a blood pressure pill that turned out to help patients grow hair. Finasteride (Propecia) was approved for enlarged prostates before anyone thought to sell it for baldness — and then a trial of more than 18,000 men found it cut prostate cancer diagnoses by about 25 percent, a benefit that took 20 years of follow-up to fully vindicate. 

Perhaps the most famous example is aspirin, which spent most of a century as a painkiller before a doctor in California named Lawrence Craven noticed that the patients he’d given aspirin gum to after tonsillectomies bled more than they should. He guessed the aspirin thinned the blood, and started handing it out to middle-aged men, who were at higher risk of heart attacks. Craven died in 1957; the trial that ultimately proved that he was onto something — showing that aspirin in heart attack victims cut vascular deaths by a fifth — didn’t run until 1988. 

The strange morality of Ozempic

Viewed this way, GLP-1s can seem like miracle drugs — but even miracle drugs can’t cure everything.

There had been great hope that GLP-1 might reduce dementia rates, but when Ozempic maker Novo Nordisk ran a proper trial, it didn’t show evidence of slowing clinical progression of Alzheimer’s. Much the same happened with cancer. Observational data had hinted that GLP-1 users developed tumors less often, but when a Harvard team pooled 48 placebo-controlled trials covering 94,245 people, they found the drugs have little to no effect on the risk of thyroid, breast or kidney cancer, though evidence for other cancers was less certain, leading to FDA boxed warnings. One plus: In some early animal studies, high doses of GLP-1 drugs caused thyroid tumors in rodents, but further research largely hasn’t validated the fears that it could be more widespread, though uncertainty about some rare thyroid cancers remains.  

For many people, weight loss isn’t the end of what these drugs seem able to do. It’s where the benefits begin.

The bigger concerns largely remain the known ones, starting with muscle loss. Across 22 randomized trials, about 25 percent of the weight lost on these drugs turns out to be lean muscle mass. Some of that is simply unavoidable in any weight loss, but too much can mean a great deal, especially if you’re 75. 

And cost remains a barrier: In a 2025 KFF poll, 56 percent of adults who had ever used a GLP-1 said the drugs were difficult to afford; 27 percent said they had insurance but paid the full cost themselves. In a separate Cleveland Clinic chart review of 288 adults without diabetes who stopped injectable semaglutide or tirzepatide within a year, 47.6 percent stopped because of cost or insurance problems, compared with 14.6 percent because of side effects. (The money, at least, is improving. An oral GLP-1 drug was approved in April, and it starts at $149 a month for people paying cash, while Medicare trial pricing of $50 a month for some GLP-1s went live in July.)

A stickier obstacle is the one that can’t seem to be divorced from questions about weight: judgment. As my colleague Dylan Scott wrote recently, researchers at Rice University found that people rate a GLP-1 user more harshly than someone who never lost weight at all. That makes perfect sense when you consider how contentious weight is in America — and none at all when you think about just how many people have benefited from these drugs in so many different ways.

I sometimes wonder how we would view GLP-1s if they could do everything they’ve been shown to do, but somehow not change a person’s appearance. 

So much of the discourse around these drugs has been shaped by the fact that many of the earliest and most public and apparent users were already thin people, often celebrities, using them to get even thinner. But that framing has become increasingly difficult to square with reality. 

Two things can be true at once: American culture has a toxic relationship to weight, and millions of Americans can and are benefiting from these drugs. For many people, weight loss isn’t the end of what these drugs seem able to do. It’s where the benefits begin.

A version of this story originally appeared in the Good News newsletter. Sign up here!

Hasan Piker has for years now been both an asset and a liability for Democrats. The Twitch streamer has elevated base-energizing progressives, such as Darializa Avila Chevalier and Zohran Mamdani, in interviews and with endorsements. But he’s also stoked controversy with past anti-Israel commentary and generally caused headaches for establishment Democrats who would rather not see Hasan’s favored candidates get any more oxygen. 

Why? A familiar concept for these kinds of centrist Democrats: electability.

That concept has been on many left-leaning voters’ minds over the past few weeks, as primaries have put progressive candidates to the test — with very mixed results. Last week, Wisconsin gubernatorial candidate and democratic socialist Francesca Hong lost her primary to establishment favorite David Crowley. Not long before that, though, progressive Michigan Senate candidate Abdul El-Sayed won his primary against the more mainstream Democratic candidate, Rep. Haley Stevens — albeit by a much smaller margin than many polls predicted.

America, Actually host Astead Herndon caught up with Piker to talk about whether the recent primary results have refined his understanding of how prepared Americans are to vote for democratic socialists, what support for unabashedly progressive candidates tells us about the changing working class in America, and the “pundit brain” problem in the Democratic Party.

Below is an excerpt of Astead’s conversation with Piker, edited for length and clarity. There’s much more in the full show, so listen to America, Actually wherever you get your podcasts or watch it on Vox’s YouTube channel.

The last two weeks have produced mixed results for left-wing candidates: a big win in Michigan and a win this week in Minnesota for Peggy Flanagan, but a loss for Francesca Hong, which was a surprise in Wisconsin.

What have been your takeaways from the last set of results?

I think the ground game is phenomenal. There’s a lot of excitement on the platform. There’s a lot of excitement for the first time for “Change Candidates.” It’s still a good environment to be in if you are a socialist.

The establishment does have a lot of juice still, for sure. And when they can put together a similar strategy to what happened in 2020 against Bernie Sanders with Joe Biden, especially in a place like Wisconsin where Tony Evers is very clearly still a very popular governor, they were able to elevate David Crowley’s campaign, who actually had dropped out and consolidated support behind Sara Rodriguez initially. And he had to drop out because he was only performing at, like, 6 percent.

Yeah, the consolidation was swift, and it was complete. I mean, you’re comparing it to 2020, in which the establishment lined up behind Joe Biden and kind of nixed that Bernie Sanders campaign in the blink of an eye. I imagine you were surprised at the result.

I never underestimate my opponents, whether they be Republicans or whether they be establishment Democrats. You have to always operate as though you’re down 10 points. I don’t believe in the notion that we are going to win easy victories at the end of the day.

There are a lot of powerful interests at play here. There are a lot of people in positions of power that don’t wanna lose their seats. So they’re gonna fight like hell, so we have to also fight like hell. We have to fight extra hard, as a matter of fact, because we’re almost always outspent, right?

I got an alert right before we started talking from the New York Times that said, “A democratic socialist lost in Wisconsin, which shows the movement’s surging wave might crash before rippling out from big cities.” Is that wrong?

Oh, I love that. Look, people are gonna have their opinions. I’ll just say it like this.

Abdul El-Sayed’s one-point victory margin showed that the Democratic socialist-aligned movement or the progressive movement was in tatters. It was obviously a failure. And now, David Crowley’s less-than-one-point victory proves that the centrist bulwark is still here, and that the Democratic socialist movement is dying.

It kind of feels like it’s wish-casting for the most part, from a lot of people who maybe want to go back to the way things used to be. My assessment on this is definitely a little bit different. I think, at the end of the day, these are insurgencies, right? These are insurgent candidacies.

We’re talking about no name recognition for a state legislator that was entirely propped up by local Wisconsin DSA chapters. These people didn’t have a lot of money necessarily, and they were able to defy the odds, and they continued defying the odds all the way until the end.

The idea that the polls showed that Francesca was a clear frontrunner and was running away with this race is utterly irrelevant. Especially if you were to look at this with a broader perspective, like thinking about where Democratic Socialists of America have gotten to in the last two years.

I mean, I remember how I felt in 2024, in the aftermath of the DNC, about where the American socialist movement was as opposed to where it is now. We are clearly a force to be reckoned with, and that’s precisely the reason why a lot of people are paying close attention to what’s going on.

And I’ll say it like this. The fact that the Hong campaign did not have any major progressive national endorsements, and that I was like their top surrogate.

There was no Bernie Sanders endorsement, there was no AOC endorsement. That did make the Hong campaign unique on that front.

I think there were a couple other races that I was also involved in where my candidates lost, right? 

I mean, Saikat Chakrabarti was another great example of this as well. It wasn’t a statewide race, and obviously, there’s always clear local differences that play a formative role in how these races turn out.

But we’ve looked back at this data. There are a couple different endorsement trackers out there, and they’ll put my endorsement up there, and they’ll put, like, AOC and Bernie Sanders. And it’s very clear that the best likelihood of success usually comes from a consolidation of national progressive forces, whether it be outside expenditures coming from Justice Democrats or things like that. And with the Francesca Hong campaign, I think it’s a testament to their success. It’s a testament to how popular the platform is in general.

And one thing I will have to stress here is the salience of the electability narrative. I think that’s still a real motivator for a lot of people.

Yeah, I hear that. Both El-Sayed’s campaign and Hong’s campaign did better among middle-class voters — I should say, than the data would tell us, among working-class voters. Considering how central working-class and bottom-up issues are to the DSA message, why has it not produced results that actually get it more working-class votes? Because that does seem to be something we’ve learned over the last three, four weeks.

I think that we have to dramatically reconstruct how we understand what it means to be working-class in this country. I think a lot of people will disagree with what I’m about to say here, but we have to do away with this fantastical notion that the working-class is one specific thing.

I think for the longest time, people have thought about this hardhat-wearing coal miner as the true working class, oftentimes White as well. And the working class is unbelievably diverse in this country, and it’s also a lot more college-educated than people actually give it credit for.

I think partially this is because if you look back to the ’90s as opposed to right now, yes, if you had a college education, you were upwardly mobile. You were probably a professional managerial class individual that was going to be able to retire at a reasonable age. You were doing fairly well. It was a guarantee for getting a good job, right? 

That’s not the case in America any longer. There are a lot more people who have a college degree who are downwardly mobile, who are having a very tough time in the current job market, who do not own a home, and it’s seemingly less likely than before that they will ever be able to own a home.

And that is the actual working class. It’s much broader, right? So we’ve seen in Zohran’s race and in Abdul’s race, there’s this massive group of working-class folks that constantly get cast aside as not being a true representation of the American working class, when I think like, No, that is the true representation.

This story appeared in Today, Explained, a daily newsletter that helps you understand the most compelling news and stories of the day. Subscribe here.

The 2026 wildfire season on the West Coast is shaping up to be an especially bad one: In Oregon, more than 2 million acres have already burned, breaking a record set just a few years ago, in 2024. In neighboring Washington state, suburbs around the city of Spokane recently burned in an increasingly common example of fires reaching urban and suburban areas (as my colleague Caitlin Dewey covered recently). And the consequences are spreading far beyond where the fires are burning, with hazardous smoke from the Pacific Northwest drifting as far away as New England. 

Much of this is a story about climate change, as increasingly dry, hot summers provide ample fuel for fires. But the crisis is also being made worse by the Trump administration: Staff cuts to the US Forest Service have left the agency stretched thin and unable to respond as effectively to fires, while a planned reorganization is also set to shutter Forest Service labs researching and tracking wildfires. EPA research into wildfires and wildfire smoke has also been slashed. 

All of this — plus a Trump administration shift away from letting some fires burn themselves out, which has further increased the workload on wildland firefighters — has also resulted in a more dangerous fire season for firefighters; Reuters reported this week that firefighters are “being overrun by wildfires at the highest rate in two decades” — with months still to go until the end of the season.

Go a little deeper

As if the above weren’t enough to worry about, lawmakers are also raising a brand-new fire season concern: prediction markets. Specifically, the possibility that bettors could turn to arson in order to manipulate prediction markets — and earn themselves some money. 

Polymarket, on its international platform, has offered users the chance to bet on everything from when and where a fire might spread to when it could be contained or extinguished, which resulted in more than $1 million in bets on major fires in California last year. High Country News reported in June that a new prediction market, called Wyldfyre, had launched specifically for betting on wildfires.

Legislators like Sen. Jeff Merkley (D-OR) have pointed out that, unlike most other natural disasters, fires are easily started or spread by humans, creating a real risk that people could attempt to manipulate markets. 

“Offering bets on destructive wildfires threatens to minimize communities’ suffering all so the rich and powerful can profit,” Merkley and eight other Democratic senators wrote in a letter to the head of the Commodity Futures Trading Commission last week. “There’s also the heightened risk—according to state and local fire officials—that individuals could be tempted to commit arson in order to make sure their bets are successful. By offering contracts on fires, prediction market sites run the risk of encouraging people to influence fires that have already started, creating additional concerns around public safety and insider trading.

One link for later

➨ Build (your attention span) back better. Beset as we are by short-form video and tweets, it can often feel like our attention spans are slipping unavoidably away. The good news, it turns out, is that decline doesn’t have to be permanent — there are ways to rebuild attention, including by simply letting your brain rest more.

Before you go…

• Did you know…that feral pigs are a serious problem for parts of rural America? After a tweet about “30 to 50 feral hogs” went viral in August 2019, my former colleague Dylan Matthews embarked on a serious consideration of how the pigs impact the US — and how we impact them in turn. It’s still one of my favorite articles on the Vox site. 
• Today’s trivia: Which US president responded to inflation by ordering wage and price freezes? (You can find this and other brain puzzles in Vox’s daily crossword. Look for the answer in Monday’s edition.)
• Yesterday’s trivia: Yesterday, we asked you for the first woman to perform hip-hop at the White House. That was MC Lyte, who performed at the Obama White House in 2014.

This story appeared in The Logoff, a daily newsletter that helps you stay informed about the Trump administration without letting political news take over your life. Subscribe here.

Welcome to The Logoff: Remember President Donald Trump’s first-term border wall? It’s still being built — through a pristine Texas national park.

What’s happening? The Trump administration is preparing to build hundreds of miles of roads through Big Bend National Park in southwest Texas as part of its latest border security project, despite a bipartisan outcry over damage to the beloved park. 

Starting last week, bulldozers and heavy machinery began to clear land for the construction of about 200 miles of patrol road, new border barriers, and electronic surveillance measures to cover the park’s 118 miles of shared border with Mexico. The construction is proceeding after the administration overrode environmental laws intended to protect places like Big Bend earlier this year.

What does a border wall look like in 2026? In this case, “wall” is a bit of a misnomer. Despite Trump’s fixation with an actual, physical wall circa 2016, the Trump administration’s current project isn’t always 30 feet high and topped with concertina wire.

Instead, the Big Bend project is part of what the administration has described as a “smart wall,” which will combine stretches of traditional wall elsewhere along the US-Mexico border with patrol roads and vehicle barriers like those planned for the park, all blanketed with surveillance. 

It’s a small retreat from the administration’s original plan for a border wall through Big Bend, which sparked outrage earlier this year. Still, the administration intends to build about 700 additional miles of “primary” wall, spanning all four border states. The whole project is slated to cost around $47 billion. 

Why Big Bend? It’s hard to say. As the New York Times reported earlier this year, the park has long been considered low-priority given its remote location and inhospitable weather. Only about 1 percent of those apprehended for crossing the US-Mexico border have been detained in Big Bend.

And with that, it’s time to log off…

Hi readers, happy Friday! Before we log off today, here’s a story from my colleague Allie Volpe about how to bring some playfulness back into your life and why we’d all stand to benefit from it. You can read it here with a gift link. 

Have a good weekend, and we’ll see you back here on Monday!

When was the last time you played? Took part in an enjoyable activity for the sake of it, with no particular outcome? A moment where you laughed, felt awe, curiosity, creativity? Where time flew by? If you’re over the age of, say, 7, your answer is probably not recently.

According to Mia Sundstrom, CEO of the National Institute for Play, an organization that studies play and champions research-backed playful policies, American society is in a bit of a play drought. Attention spans are shrinking, the country is more polarized than ever, and some people might be more comfortable communicating with AI than other humans. “Our world is really overwhelming, and what we’re starting to see is these almost spontaneous bursts of playfulness infiltrate back into our society almost as a rebellion against the things that feel really hard and scary right now,” Sundstrom told Vox.

That desire for levity might explain the proliferation of “whimsical” online content and unconventional workout classes and events, Sundstrom said. In other words, play, which she defined as both a state (marked by experimentation and risk-taking) and a disposition (a curious, creative, and optimistic way of moving throughout the world). 

Playfulness benefits us all, not just kids. Playful people perceive less stress and have higher well-being, and life satisfaction. It also just feels good to partake in an activity that takes you out of the difficulties of life, if just for a little while. To help push back against the forces of seriousness, Sundstrom outlines three easy ways to imbue your life with more play. 

1. Figure out your “play style”

Play is highly subjective: What one person considers enjoyable might be another’s personal hell. And just because an activity brings you a moderate amount of enjoyment doesn’t mean it’s necessarily good for you. (Take mindlessly scrolling on your phone, for instance.) To be a more playful person, you need to consider — or remember — what makes you feel a little silly. The National Institute for Play developed six “play styles” to help people determine what activities light them up. For example, “creators” play through art, music, design, and performance while “competitors” like playing games or sports.

If you struggle to even pinpoint your play style, Sundstrom suggests recalling past memories of play. When was the last time you truly lost track of time or laughed so hard you cried with people you loved? What were you doing?

“Try and recall that vividly, because play is who we are before the world tells us who we have to be,” she said. “Whatever you loved to do early on, there’s a good chance somewhere inside of you that is still in there and is a great little spark for you to re-access play.” It’s likely you gradually stopped these playful hobbies, perhaps due to the demands of adult life, and picking them back up with no expectation can put you in touch with your younger self. 

2. Make your environment more conducive to play

Based on your play style, you might consider low- or no-cost upgrades to your physical space to make play easier. “In physical spaces, the fastest and easiest things you can do are how can you add bright colors or something that feels inspiring to you, whether that’s a picture of your favorite place or a memory that jogs back play, something that is a visual cue to you that brings you back to a play state,” Sundstrom said. You might keep some scrap paper handy to doodle while you’re on the phone, use brightly colored files to organize your important documents, or use a colorful keyboard instead of a standard one. 

Kids can make any space more playful. If you have children in your life, try to adopt their mindset: the curiosity, the wonder. And if you don’t have little ones, take inspiration from a childlike version of yourself and make decisions from their point of view, Sundstrom said.

Many adults, especially moms, feel pressure to curate a high-octane play experience for kids, Sundstrom said. But a more playful environment can simply incorporate an inside joke, a wink whenever you leave the room, or a silly way of greeting each other.

3. Find some bite-sized versions of play that you can add to your daily routine

Once you’ve figured out, say, adventuring and new experiences are what make you feel alive (also known as the “explorer” play style), what tiny measures can you take to regularly engage in play? 

“Even 30 seconds of a dance break or belting your favorite song or creating a handshake with somebody as you enter or exit a room, that is enough to create that play spark and to start those brain activations that do foster the deeper creativity and adaptability and resilience that build the play mindset,” Sundstrom said. 

The best places to infuse play are during moments of boredom, Sundstrom said. To allow yourself space to be bored, put your phone in another room during any downtime and when you would ordinarily feel the urge to pick up your device, do something playful instead. Anything from practicing an accent or turning on a random radio station and imagining what the musical artist looks like.

The world may be serious, but individuals can take ownership over how much whimsy and levity they bring to it. Who knows? You might make someone else’s day more playful, too.

Earlier this summer, Vox set up two big bug traps in New York City — like, literal traps that catch bugs. Our goal was to try to discover a new insect species right in the middle of the city because the bulk of them are still unknown to science. 

We now have some exciting, albeit preliminary, results to share. 

During the month of June — the only month we’ve analyzed so far — our traps captured an estimated 12,000 insect specimens, which we sent to a lab at the University of Guelph in Canada for analysis. The lab, known as the Centre for Biodiversity Genomics, pulled out specimens across three groups: scuttle flies and two kinds of wasps known as parasitoids, which lay their eggs in other insects. We’re focusing on these groups, because they’re considered “dark taxa,” meaning that most species within them are likely still undiscovered. 

That left us with just under 1,000 specimens from June to investigate further.

From there, the lab sequenced a short section of DNA from each specimen, known as a barcode. Those DNA barcodes are unique identifiers for individual organisms, and scientists use them to sort specimens. When individuals have very similar barcodes, that often means they are the same species.

Most of the barcodes from our specimens appear to be similar to barcodes of insects that scientists have already collected and sequenced. There’s a slim chance that these are members of undiscovered species. 

But there were striking exceptions: Our wasps and flies yielded more than two dozen barcode groups that are, according to a preliminary review, quite different. They are unlike anything that exists in the big genetic database, known as BOLD, which is essentially a massive library of biodiversity. That means that they may represent new species.

Now, following further analysis by taxonomists, we have a strong indication that at least a few of those barcode groups may, indeed, be new species. And this was after just one month of looking!

Before we know if we have a true discovery to announce, we want to be certain that these species are actually new. That takes hard work, for which we are leaning on Emily Hartop, an entomologist at Norway’s NTNU University Museum, and University of Guelph researchers Ranjith AP and Paul Hebert. They will verify that no one has already described the organisms matching these specimens and then publish a formal description, along with a name, in a peer-reviewed scientific journal. At that point, we’ll be able to say with more certainty that the bugs we caught here in New York City are, in fact, new to science. 

In the meantime, the traps remain open, and the freezer in my apartment will continue — to my husband’s disgust — filling up with ethanol-soaked bugs. 

You can find more information about Vox’s quest to discover a new species here.

There’s a lot of discussion about Jewish voters in politics this cycle.

With Democrats embroiled in loud arguments over Israel and Gaza, Republicans have been hoping to capture more of the Jewish vote by linking criticism of Israel to antisemitism. “How a Jewish person can vote for a Democrat is beyond me,” President Donald Trump said last month. His administration has made cracking down on anti-Israel campus activists — a top early priority — and has called Democrats “Palestinian” or “jihadists.”

Meanwhile, Democrats have pointed to the rise of openly antisemitic influencers within the conservative movement, which has become a divisive topic on the right that also runs into debates over Israel, as a pressing threat to Jews. 

But what do Jewish voters themselves actually want? That’s a nuanced question, and one that we have fresh polling and voting data on to help us dissect this cycle. 

American Jews aren’t a large voting bloc — just over 2 percent of the population — but there are also significant communities in some key swing states and competitive districts. As a matter of partisan politics, Jews have historically voted Democratic by wide margins, but Republicans have long hoped to peel them off, often by emphasizing their support for Israel. Though it’s been a common refrain from pro-Israel and Republican activists for decades that a GOP realignment was just around the corner, it wasn’t until the 2024 presidential election that these voices got a firm boost. Nationally, and in local communities, Jewish support for the Democratic Party seemed to drop slightly.  

Elections since then have been difficult to parse. In last year’s New York City mayoral election, for example, Zohran Mamdani won about 33 percent of Jewish voters, compared to the 63 percent that went for Andrew Cuomo in a race where divisions over Israel and antisemitism featured strongly. In the primary, many Cuomo voters also backed Mamdani ally Brad Lander, a Jewish progressive who was sharply critical of Israel — and who went on to easily defeat Rep. Dan Goldman in a congressional primary in a heavily Jewish district this year while running to his left on Israel issues. Meanwhile, in New Jersey, left-wing Democrat Analilia Mejia won a special election for a House seat while harshly criticizing Israel. But her candidacy led some Jewish strongholds to swing massively toward Republicans.

So, what happens to the Jewish vote in the 2026 midterms? This segment of voters is no monolith, experts say, and finding the “right” way to talk about Israel is no guarantor of electoral success. Polls show Jewish voters hold competing priorities in their minds: They’re increasingly concerned about antisemitism and their personal safety in America, and they hold complex and divergent views on Israel, which often is not a defining voting issue, even as it seems to be the dominant way strategists and pundits talk about this electorate. 

Here’s what the latest data has to say about what Jewish voters want and how their politics are changing this cycle.   

The remarkable consistency of the Jewish electorate

Aside from Black voters, there have traditionally been no more loyal Democratic voters than Jewish Americans. Since 2008, between 60 and 80 percent of these voters picked the Democratic candidate, while about 60 percent have consistently identified with the party over the last two decades.

That changed slightly after 2024, when exit polls suggested a six-point swing toward Donald Trump compared to 2020. Jewish communities in New Jersey, New York, and Pennsylvania, meanwhile, shifted more dramatically — which analysts for the election data site Split Ticket argued last year represented a 5 to 10 percentage-point swing against Democrats.

There are plenty of arguments over how and why this happened — pollsters and experts I spoke with told me that, despite the majority of Jewish American voters still siding with Democrats, the voting group mirrored other traditionally Democratic voting groups’ swing against the incumbent.

“Biden won the election, Harris lost the election,” Tali deGroot, the national political director of J Street, told Vox. “That means that every single community likely saw shifts with fewer people voting for the Democrat.”

Others argue it was a return to more of a baseline of voter behavior. 2020 was the aberration, with remarkably high support for Biden because of pandemic conditions.

But what still stands out beyond these trendlines is the steady support Democrats receive from these voters — whether because of the high level of college education among these constituents (a blue-coded trait in the Trump era), the geographic location of these voters (primarily in Democratic states like New York and California), or the socially liberal beliefs many of these voters hold (Jews historically support abortion rights, for example).

Even heading into 2026, Democrats still hold overwhelmingly strong support from these voters, Jim Gerstein, a founding partner of the polling firm GBAO, told me.

“What’s remarkable is actually how consistent Jewish voting behavior and political beliefs and values have been for years and still through today,” Gerstein said. “You have these massive developments in domestic, international, political events, actual things that happen in the real world, and the Jewish vote is just remarkably stable.”

Entering 2026, Gerstein argues, two dynamics remain at play that are preserving their Democratic lean. The long-held liberal ideological bent of Jewish Americans, along with the issues they prioritize, broadly align with the Democratic Party. And, on the other end, their antipathy to Trump and the Republican Party is “intense,” a force that pushes these voters away from the GOP, even if there were broader reasons to realign.

“Not only do they identify with the Democrats, they share positions on the major issues, shared values,” Gerstein said. “And they also have a strong opposition to the Republican Party and leading Republican figures.”

These dynamics also reveal themselves when looking at various denominations within the Jewish electorate. The largest segments — nondenominational, Reform, and Conservative Jews — lean heavily Democratic and have remained more or less steadily Democratic over the last few years. A smaller segment, Orthodox Jews — who make up about a tenth of the Jewish population but are growing — lean toward Republicans, are more strongly supportive of Trump and Israel, and have been shifting right over the last five years.

“The Orthodox population is in its own political world relative to the rest of the Jewish population,” Gerstein said. “To the extent there’s any shifting [broadly], there’s been some shifting among Orthodox to make them even more Republican. That is offset by the fact that the Reform population is much larger. They are extraordinarily Democratic, and if anything, are moving a little bit more Democratic.”

How Jewish American voters are feeling about 2026

Polls of Jewish voters this year suggests these dynamics are largely baked into the electorate at this point. A national AP-NORC survey of voters, with an oversampling of Jewish Americans, in June found that Jewish adults’ approval of how Trump is handling his job is nearly 10 points lower than among all American adults generally.

“We see that same pattern on most of the issues that we asked about, such as the economy, immigration, and Iran,” Emily Alvarez, a senior research scientist at NORC, told me. “But when it comes to his handling of Israel, they’re actually slightly more likely than the general public to approve. It’s a very small difference, but it is a difference, and it’s kind of a reversal of that trend that we saw with the other issues.”

NORC’s polling also suggests that domestic, kitchen table issues continue to be the dominant priorities of these voters generally. More than 80 percent of Jewish adults say the economy and healthcare are top priorities for them this year. About 56 and 66 percent say Israel or foreign policy are important concerns. 

This June finding roughly matches the priorities that two other pollsters identified this year. The Mellman Group’s polling for the Jewish Electorate Institute from March found that Jewish voters largely say Democrats are better aligned with their views on abortion rights, healthcare, fair elections, and supporting the middle class.

And polling from GBAO on behalf of the Jewish Voters Resource Center in the spring found that the future of democracy (37 percent) and the cost of living/affordability (32 percent) are the top two issue priorities of Jewish voters, broadly speaking. Concerns over antisemitism round out the top three (25 percent).

Fear of discrimination and antisemitism is the biggest unifying concern for Jewish adults. When GBAO asked respondents about dealbreaker issues, 20 percent cited antisemitism as being their red line for supporting a candidate. And AP-NORC’s polling found that 62 percent of Jewish adults feel they are less safe than before October 7.

And while Jewish voters tend to be more aligned with Democrats on issues, the polling also found they remain wary of partisan politics — a common trait among many demographics in recent cycles. 

“Jewish Americans really feel a sense of political dissatisfaction. They don’t feel particularly well supported by either political party. Very few say Democrats or Republicans support them well,” Alvarez said. “Republicans tend to feel a lot better supported by Republicans, and then they feel really supported by President Trump, but then far fewer Democrats feel the same way about their own party or about the president.”

The Israel factor

It’s hard to disentangle the effect of the Israel-Gaza war from the current political environment for Jewish voters.

Sam Markstein, the political director of the Republican Jewish Coalition, told me that October 7 was a defining moment for many Jewish voters who had preexisting misgivings about the Democratic Party. Changing political and public opinion on Israel and acts of violence against Jewish people and at places of worship, as well as shifts among Democrats and the left’s broader tension with AIPAC, suddenly made safety and antisemitism more pressing issues.

“After October 7, American Jews focused a lot more on their safety,” Markstein told me. “The main questions we heard, time and time, was who would best keep us safe, who would stand up for our students on the college campus quad, who would make us feel better about walking with our young kids to shul on Saturday morning, who would actually stand with the Jewish community and empower us to wear our Stars of David in public and not have to hide it.”

While concerns about antisemitism are widespread, views on Israel and the Israeli-Palestinian conflict itself are nuanced, particularly among Jewish Democrats, various pollsters told me. 

AP-NORC’s polling, for example, found that Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu was broadly disliked by American Jews, with six-in-10 adults expressing unfavorable views. By contrast, Mamdani, the New York City mayor who recently explored arresting Netanyahu, was viewed favorably by 44 percent of Jews, with 39 percent expressing an unfavorable view. 30 percent of Jews said they believed Israel had committed genocide in its war in Gaza, while 49 percent said it had not. 

One important wrinkle that’s often divided Israel critics is the context of that criticism. Many Jews are concerned about Israel’s security and direction and hope to see a new government with a stronger commitment to forging peace with Palestinians and neighboring states. Michael Bloomfield, a lead pollster and managing director for the Mellman Group, told me that “what often gets forgotten is that almost all American Jews, 86 percent, consider themselves pro-Israel,” including a similar share of Jewish Democrats.

But a rising segment of the left — including candidates like Abdul El-Sayed — often describe Israel’s founding vision of a homeland for Jews as inherently oppressive and sometimes calls for replacing the country with a secular and binational Arab-Jewish state. By contrast, New York’s Brad Lander, also on the left, describes himself as a “liberal Zionist” who wants a peaceful two-state solution that preserves Israel’s existence.

Polling this year, sponsored by the Jewish Electorate Institute, found that, while many Jewish Democrats are critical of Israeli government policies and the US partnership with Israel in the war in Iran, they are still strongly supportive of Israel as a state.

Overall, nearly nine in 10 American Jews describe themselves as pro-Israel, they found, but only about a quarter, 23 percent, consider themselves both pro-Israel and supportive of Israeli government policies. Six in 10 are pro-Israel and critical, half of whom are critical of “some” and another half who are critical of “many” policies. That broadly aligns with partisan identification. While 84 perfect of Jewish Democrats are “pro-Israel,” 73 percent of them are critical of Israeli policies. Republicans, a smaller share overall, are less likely to be critical.

There are also differences based on religious and cultural identity within the Jewish electorate, apparent in the NORC polling. Jews with a religious affiliation or strong attachment to Israel as part of their religious identity tend to be more supportive of Israel’s actions than secular Jews. About half of those with religious affiliation say the Gaza military campaign is justified, while a quarter believe Israel has committed genocide, compared to about two in 10 secular Jews who say the Gaza campaign is justified, and 4 in 10 who agree with the genocide charge. Three-quarters of that cohort say they are “not too” or “not at all” emotionally attached to Israel.

While concerns about antisemitism are rising, there’s room for nuance, Bloomfield told me.

“There is a policy debate about how much aid Israel should get, there’s a policy debate about where our relationship should be,” Bloomfield told me. “That is different than the worry when it gets to antisemitism and feeling uncomfortable in the Democratic Party.” The Mellman poll for JEI found that a majority of American Jews agree with the statement that “too many supporters of Israel claim any criticism of Israel is antisemitism as a way to avoid legitimate debate over Israeli policy.” 

Nearly half of Jewish Republicans (47 percent) agree with that, along with 59 percent of Democrats. At the same time, 83 percent of Jewish Americans agree that “too many critics of Israel use tropes and generalizations about Jews to play into antisemitism, whether they mean to or not.”

Those nuanced views speak to the moment of uncertainty that many Jewish Democrats feel right now, he said. Israel, and the US relationship with it, does not dominate their vote choice or decision-making, but the way the party’s rising leaders, activist class, and press talk about it may become a bigger pressure point later this cycle. In the latest Mellman/JEI polling, few Jews say they’ve been following the discourse and debate over AIPAC and other pro-Israel groups’ spending in primary contests. Some 62 percent of all Jews say they have not heard much — including a majority of Jewish Democrats.

That number has likely gone up since then, given high-profile contests like Michigan’s Senate primary this month, which featured extensive arguments about pro-Israel spending and whether criticizing them shaded into antisemitism. And the salience of these debates may change in either direction depending on the news. Democrats could pursue a more aggressive policy to pressure Israel if they win the House, for example, or Israel might find room for a reset if Netanyahu loses his premiership later this year. 

 “There are cross currents and Jews can feel both ways at the same time,” Bloomfield said. “We ourselves can be concerned where people use antisemitism as cries as a way to get out of legitimate debate. On the other hand, there’s even more of us concerned that a lot of what is being debated by Israel often does veer too quickly into something that’s antisemitism. We can have both feelings at the same time.”

This story appeared in The Logoff, a daily newsletter that helps you stay informed about the Trump administration without letting political news take over your life. Subscribe here.

Welcome to The Logoff: The cracks are starting to show in President Donald Trump’s Iran campaign.

What’s happening? Conditions on a US warship deployed in the Middle East have grown so dire, multiple sailors have reportedly tried to go overboard (at least one did so but was rescued safely, according to CNN). 

The attempts to jump overboard comes as family members of sailors are raising concerns with Democratic lawmakers about deteriorating mental health on the ship amid sanitation issues and shortages of food and basic supplies. 

The USS Abraham Lincoln aircraft carrier has been deployed for more than 250 days, starting last November, including a stretch of more than 200 days at sea — a modern record. Its deployment was supposed to end months ago, in May, but has continued as Trump’s Iran war stretches on. 

How is the administration responding? Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth said Thursday that reports about conditions on the Lincoln are “completely misrepresented.” Help is on the way for the Lincoln, though, with another US aircraft carrier en route to the area to replace it (according to the Wall Street Journal, the replacement was already planned, and not in response to deteriorating conditions on the Lincoln).

Why does this matter? Conditions on the Lincoln are not the only recent stumbling block for the US war with Iran. Earlier this month, we learned more about the US’s increasingly serious shortages of key offensive and defensive missiles, including THAAD and Patriot interceptors used to protect US troops and allies. On top of that, the Washington Post reported Thursday that the US has run through around a quarter of its Reaper drones, which cost tens of millions of dollars apiece. 

It’s the latest example of how the math of the war is starting to slant against the US: Reaper drones and Patriot missiles are incredibly expensive, while Iran has figured out how to mass-produce attack drones on the cheap. And with no end in sight, shortages and situations like the Lincoln will only become a larger problem.

And with that, it’s time to log off…

Here’s some good news from my colleague Adam Clark Estes: As wrecked as your attention span may feel, it’s not permanently degraded. He talked with attention experts to figure out how to repair his, and how we can all do the same. You can read his full story here with a gift link — and then, for all of our brains’ sake, let’s log off. We’ll see you back here tomorrow. 

This story appeared in Today, Explained, a daily newsletter that helps you understand the most compelling news and stories of the day. Subscribe here.

Karoline Leavitt, the 28-year-old firebrand who became the nation’s youngest-ever press secretary in 2024, is stepping down to “spend more time with her beautiful young children.”

President Donald Trump announced the news on Wednesday night in a Truth Social post, adding that Leavitt would remain an adviser and “an influential voice within the Republican Party.”

It feels fitting that Leavitt — whose public persona required her to perform both her job and her role as a wife and mom — is stepping down to parent. In MAGA’s conception of womanhood, there can be no higher calling. Not even serving the president. 

For more than two years, however, Leavitt made a show of trying to do both. She returned to work on Trump’s reelection campaign only days after the birth of her first child and regularly shared photos of herself working while holding her son. 

Leavitt also welcomed a daughter over the spring, amid what Fox News dubbed a White House “baby boom.” Officials and conservative media quickly turned the new mothers into advertisements for the pro-natalist movement: Proof that women could, and should, have both careers and children. 

Leavitt is still being held up that way, even — perhaps especially — as she departs. “She’s been a role model to millions and millions of young women,” deputy chief of staff Stephen Miller told Fox News on Wednesday. “A mother, a family woman, a press secretary, a patriot.”

MAGA’s rules for women

The MAGA movement tends to glorify traditional female roles — wife, mother, homemaker — while simultaneously (and confusingly) elevating ambitious, career-driven women like Leavitt. 

At first glance, her prominence — and that of other women in Trump’s administration — would seem to rebut the charge that the movement is misogynist. In fact, that’s a line of defense that Trump himself has advanced. 

But look a little closer, and you’ll see the structural contradiction at the heart of MAGA femininity: Female power is only legitimate when it’s exercised on behalf of Trump, and by women who conform to traditional expectations around gender, marriage, motherhood, and physical appearance.

To Trump, a female White House correspondent was a “piggy,” for instance. But a female press secretary who defended the slur was “knocking them dead.” 

A female employee at a Trump golf course was asked to sign an NDA after reporting harassment. But the female attorney who allegedly pressured her to sign it was, according to Trump, “a rocket ship.”

A female politician rose to prominence championing the president’s deportation agenda. But to get there, she had to find her “Mar-a-Lago face” — and she was ousted after showing signs of personal ambition. (In fairness, she was also very bad at her job.) 

It’s a very tricky little tightrope to walk. And lately, that strain has begun to show. While Trump began his second term with an unusually high number of female Cabinet members for a Republican president, women now hold only four of 23 Cabinet or Cabinet-level positions. 

Trump’s support is also down among young women. In Congress, a bloc of prominent conservative female lawmakers recently broke from their party to censure Republicans accused of misconduct. Now, the MAGA movement is losing one of its fiercest female proxies in Leavitt. 

Even at the height of her powers, however, Leavitt never really got her due. The luxurious office traditionally reserved for the White House press secretary instead went to another White House staffer. A dude.

One link for later

➨ Meet the latest and greatest exercise cult. It’s called HYROX — yes, in all caps — and it’s an eight-round agility and strength competition. Participants spend thousands of dollars on training, registration, and travel for these events, which tend to “subsume your entire existence.” That’s a very hard no for me, personally…but a lot of very fit and competitive people are apparently into it. 

Before you go…

• Did you know…that the US attempted to assassinate longtime Cuban dictator Fidel Castro by poisoning his ice cream? And that’s somehow not even the weirdest or most far-fetched Castro assassination scheme. 
• Today’s trivia: Who was the first woman to perform hip hop at the White House? (You can find this and other brain puzzles in Vox’s daily crossword. Look for the answer in tomorrow’s edition.)
• Yesterday’s trivia: Yesterday we asked you for the German philosopher who wrote Critique of Practical Reason. That would be Immanuel Kant, whose work also arguably inspired one of the core conflicts in the Avengers films.

Ever find yourself hunched over your laptop, eyes glazed, slack jawed, and stunned by the quantity of information modern life is throwing at you? You might take a break to stare at your phone. Or you could try switching from one browser tab to the next while checking your email and inching closer to the day’s deadline. 

Some people call this TikTok brain. Others call it brain rot. Either way, it feels like a distinctly 21st-century affliction, caused by scrolling through too many short-form videos and social media feeds that trains your brain to seek out little hits of dopamine and ruins your ability to focus on anything for more than a few seconds. People with the condition may not be able to read books or even watch feature-length films. They can’t do anything except watch little videos, leaving them prone, catatonic, faces blank and bright in the glow of their smartphone screens. 

I don’t even use TikTok, but I feel this way all the time. Give me one hour to complete a task that requires even a medium amount of mental fortitude, and I’ll find 55 minutes’ worth of other things to do. It’s not that I’m avoiding the task. But once I get started, my mind wanders relentlessly, no matter how hard I try to keep it on track.

You can blame technology for doing this to you — and I do — but the real issue is with how we treat our brains. Generally speaking, the human brain works like an analog computer, processing one thing at a time, and when you switch tasks (which is what we’re actually doing when we say we are multitasking), it comes at a cost: It drains your cognitive resources, which makes it even harder to pay attention in the future. The more you do this, the more ingrained the behavior becomes.

“It’s a myth to think that we should push ourselves to focus as long as possible and we’ll be more productive,” said Gloria Mark, the author of Attention Span: A Groundbreaking Way to Restore Balance, Happiness and Productivity and the Substack The Future of Attention. 

The human attention span is not one thing. There are different types of attention, including sustained attention (your ability to stay engaged with a task over a period of time) and selective attention (your capacity to take in certain information while tuning out irrelevant details). Alternating attention (the mental flexibility required to switch tasks rapidly) and dividing attention (process multiple things at once) are especially demanding on your cognitive resources. And all of this is managed by the brain’s command center, your prefrontal cortex, which handles executive function. When you’re experiencing cognitive fatigue, there’s a physical reason why: There’s actually less blood flowing to this portion of the brain.

“We need to stop trying to recover from cognitive fatigue and overload by consuming more information.”

Amisha Jha, University of Miami neuroscience professor

The good news is that the damage is not permanent. The human brain’s capacity to focus is just as intact as it was in the 19th century when everyone spent their evenings reading novels and knitting fisherman sweaters. Lots of things have changed since then, of course. As smartphones have driven us to consume endless amounts of information, psychologists have been working on strategies to put the pieces of our attention spans back together. I called a few of these attention experts hoping that they might tell me the secret to regaining my ability to focus. They all agreed that two things are necessary to solve the problem: Be intentional with your attention and let your brain rest.

“What we need most is the capacity to know where attention is, moment by moment, and greater agency over our attention so we can direct it intentionally,” Amishi Jha, a neuroscience professor at the University of Miami and author of Peak Mind, told me. “We need to stop trying to recover from cognitive fatigue and overload by consuming more information.” 

Put another way, in order to reclaim your attention span, you first need to be mindful. That means spending less brain power dissociating on social media feeds and more on whatever you’re actually interested in. You also need to give your brain a chance to rest and recover. Staring at your phone will not help you recharge and reclaim your attention span. Staring at a tree, however, will. 

Let your brain rest

One way to think about your own attention span is to consider what is voluntary and what is not. When something like a bright light or a loud noise grabs your attention, it engages your involuntary attention, which is effectively limitless. When you’re deciding to pay attention to something, however, you’re using your voluntary, or directed attention. This is a limited resource. As you’re making an effort to focus on something, like a book, your supply of directed attention runs down, but it can be replenished in specific ways.

This simpler way to understand how our attention works dates back to the 19th-century psychologists, like Williams James, but it’s making a comeback thanks to attention restoration theory (ART). This school of thought, first developed in the 1980s by University of Michigan psychology professors Stephen and Rachel Kaplan, suggests that spending time in nature restores your directed attention. The theory claims that the natural world does this by captivating our indirect, or involuntary, attention and allowing our cognitive resources to recover.

Imagine you’ve gone for a hike and happen upon a waterfall that’s so fascinating you can’t look away from it. Marc Berman, one of Stephen Kaplan’s former students and now a professor at the University of Chicago, refers to such a spectacle as a “soft fascination,” something that can grab your attention without consuming it, thus giving your mind space to wander. You might get the same effect from staring at a campfire or looking up at tree branches swaying in the breeze. Hard fascinations, by contrast, capture so much of your attention that you can’t look away and you can’t quickly recover. Times Square is a canonical example, but being on social media counts, too.

“Doomscrolling, streaming, surfing the internet — they’re activities that maybe seem restful, but we actually think that they’re fatiguing and depleting,” said Berman, who is also the author of the book Nature and the Mind: The Science of How Nature Improves Cognitive, Physical, and Social Well-Being. 

In one study Berman conducted, he and his team (which included Kaplan) gave research subjects difficult attention and memory tasks, sent them on a walk in nature or an urban environment, and then repeated the tests. The participants who went on nature walks improved their performance in these tests by about 20 percent, Berman said, and the improvements held regardless of whether participants said they liked the walk or not.

“One of the great misconceptions about attention is that it’s simply a matter of us paying attention.”

Nilli Lavie, University College London psychology professor

Berman said they aren’t entirely sure why nature seems to have this effect on us, but he theorizes that it relates to fractals, or repeating, self-similar patterns whose individual parts resemble their larger whole — tree branches or fern leaves, for instance. Fractals are common in nature, and Berman thinks their orderly arrangement helps our brains to process the information. “It’s easy to get the gist and you don’t need to encode all the details,” he said. “Whereas in the built environment, it’s not very fractal and you might have to encode everything, which might be more taxing.”

Of course, it’s not always possible to zip over a forest in the middle of the work day. If you can’t take a walk in the park, Berman said that even looking at a picture of nature scenes can help. (Try not to do that on Instagram, though, because you might end up just doomscrolling.) 

Be intentional with your attention

Reclaiming your attention is one thing, but holding onto it in the first place is its own distinct challenge. When you find yourself feeling distractable, it might be that you need a break. If that’s the case, you can’t will your way into concentrating.

“One of the great misconceptions about attention is that it’s simply a matter of us paying attention,” said Nilli Lavie, a professor of psychology and brain sciences at University College London. “It’s not enough to just want to pay attention.”

Instead, you have to put yourself in an environment that makes paying attention not only possible but achievable. That means making a concerted effort to avoid multitasking, which will drain your cognitive resources. Try the alternative: monotasking. 

Monotasking likely requires clearing away clutter, whether that’s literal clutter on your desk, or digital clutter on your screen in the form of extra apps or browser tabs. Turning off all notifications is essential. You should also hide your phone — put it in a drawer or in another room. (A widely cited study published in 2017 found that even having a phone in sight can reduce your cognitive capacity and affect your ability to concentrate.) When you need to take a break, don’t go find your phone: Take a walk outside, or stare at a tree, or look out the window and listen to a song you like.

Monotasking also means being intentional about how you do that one thing, avoiding distractions along the way. At work, this might mean carving up projects into digestible chunks. You might even try the Pomodoro technique: Set a timer for 25 minutes, focus hard on the task until it goes off, take a five-minute break, and repeat. At home, it could mean making to-do lists and prioritizing tasks so that the toughest ones get done first, while you still have some gas in the tank.

If you aren’t ready to turn off all notifications at this point, at the very least turn off all the ones that aren’t coming from humans. You do not need to be alerted of an Amazon flash sale while you’re trying to plan your family’s meals for the week.

Give yourself some constraints

There’s no such thing as being 100 percent locked in to any given task. When there are no external distractions, your brain actually turns inward and finds something else to pay attention to, which can lead to daydreaming and mind wandering. Daydreaming — creating a structured narrative of imaginary scenarios — is not necessarily a bad thing, by the way. It can be productive in helping you plan and think creatively. But if you’re just mentally wandering from random topic to topic, you’re getting into the danger zone. 

Some people find that adding constraints can improve their attention. One approach you’ll see in self-help books is the use of a so-called commitment device that restricts future behavior in service of a larger goal. If you’ve read (or seen) The Odyssey, you might remember the scene in which Odysseus orders his crew to tie him to the ship’s mast and ignore his orders so that he won’t steer the boat into the rocks when he hears the Sirens’ call. Odysseus was using a commitment device to avoid killing his whole crew. You might use a commitment device, like a dedicated writing space or the Pomodoro technique, to avoid distractions, both external and internal. 

So how do you focus just the right amount? Removing those external distractions is a great start. Much like paying attention, ignoring these distractions consumes your cognitive resources, impacting your performance, and causing you to make mistakes. It also takes more effort to stay on task as time goes on. From there, do your best to avoid overtaxing your brain to the point that the internal distractions take over and your mind is wandering. That’s how you know it’s time to take a break.

“For several minutes, give yourself no new input,” Jha said. “Do not reach for the phone while waiting in line. Take a short walk without listening to anything. Look out a window. Let the mind wander without trying to solve a problem.”

Take a walk in the park. Sit quietly and look at a bird. Paying attention has never sounded so relaxing.

The 2026 midterm cycle is projected to be the most expensive election cycle in US history, with candidates across the board raising money at a record pace. And voters are taking notice: Big-donor groups tied to issues like Israel policy, AI, and crypto have become major flashpoints in primary races in both parties.

Campaign spending alone doesn’t determine elections. The recent Democratic Senate primary in Michigan was the most expensive Democratic congressional primary in terms of outside spending — but ended with Abdul El-Sayed overcoming a major financial disadvantage to win the nomination. In California, billionaire Tom Steyer spent over $200 million of his own money on his bid for governor, but lost. 

But the ever-rising tide of cash helped fuel voter concerns about corruption and the campaign finance landscape is only getting more confusing: In June, the Supreme Court struck down limits on how much political parties can spend in coordination with their own candidates, further blurring the line between what candidates raise directly and what parties can spend on their behalf.

How can voters follow the money? How much difference does outside spending actually make in the outcomes of these races? And how much can candidates rely on grassroots donors to push back? 

Danielle M. Thomsen, a professor of political science at the University of California Irvine and author of the 2025 book, The Money Signal: How Fundraising Matters in American Politics, has spent years studying these questions. The conversation has been lightly edited and condensed for clarity.

Let’s start with a race like the recent Michigan Senate Democratic primary. Abdul El-Sayed was massively outspent by outside interest groups like AIPAC and still won. Does that change how you think about money’s role in politics, or is it generally consistent with what we know?

The bulk of my research is looking at US House primaries, and I think you could probably draw similar conclusions for Senate primaries, except that in most cases, Senate primaries have way more information. So in the case of Michigan, I think people knew largely what the choices were. And after you get to that stage, largely through money and advertising and voter outreach, and campaigning, after that point, money might matter less because voters become more familiar with choices. But this is a really steep hurdle in most congressional primaries.

I think that people forget how low information these contests usually are. Many primary voters really don’t know much about candidates. I think in the Michigan Senate example, that was less true. Money isn’t irrelevant, but when you have other pieces of information, that can override money. And furthermore, in that case, both of the candidates were spending millions of dollars in the primary. I mean, this is just so unique in a lot of ways.

Is there a minimum level of money congressional candidates need to be viable? Do we know?

The average for non-incumbent successful candidates in open seat primaries is about three to $400,000 in the first quarter. And if you look at incumbents who lost or struggled, well, their challengers for the most part, are not, you know, broke jokes. They’re raising $200,000 to $300,000 in their first quarter, which resembles what quote unquote “open seat candidates” are raising too in many districts. Maybe not your super wealthy districts like in New York or in California, but in many districts, $300,000 in your first quarter is a really good showing. So I would say money is money, and early money in particular is a prerequisite.

And that’s not going to mean that if you raise a lot of money, you definitely will win. That’s never been the case and that’s still not the case. But it does matter for you, it matters for who is seen to be seriously in the mix, who is perceived to be relevant. And in this cycle, just like in most cycles, virtually all contenders who are either successful or are seen as successful show support through early fundraising.

Your view is that fundraising works largely as a signal of viability and strength — to the public, party leaders, media, everyone. Is that the consensus view in political science, or are there competing frameworks?

In many ways the argument of my book is not very groundbreaking if you talk to practitioners, but it hasn’t been empirically documented in the ways that I did. Some other people in political science call attention to endorsements. The other theory is that money matters not as a signal of viability but for material goods — so to buy advertisements, office infrastructure, hiring staff, and consultants.

“Among those who run, rich candidates are also more likely to win.”

Within a candidate’s total haul, does it matter where the money comes from, like a broad base of small donors, a candidate self-funding, or a super PAC backed by a few wealthy people?

I’ve recently begun to look at this. With a graduate student of mine, Ryan Mundy, we collected data and wrote a paper on why wealthy candidates are likely to win. Because it’s not just the case that rich candidates are more likely to run, which most people know and prior research has shown, but among those who run, rich candidates are also more likely to win.

And what we show is that rich candidates are more likely to raise early money. In particular, they’re more likely to raise large-dollar donations, which then have a greater return in subsequent quarters.

What do we know about candidates who fully self-fund?

So I’ve learned that fully self-funded candidates, meaning those who don’t supplement with financial support from others, typically lose. Self-funding on its own is not as valuable as getting money from others, and in particular large-dollar donations from others.

However, many, many candidates supplement with their own money. Something like 40 percent of non-incumbent general election winners self-fund at least $10,000. I think people don’t really understand the prevalence of self-funding as a supplement, and how that keeps some people disadvantaged, particularly those who can’t self-fund at all.

For some self-funders, I think some of them just don’t want to raise money. It can be pretty unpleasant! And while self-funding with no supplemental money from others is overwhelmingly a bad strategy, there are a couple handful of people who have done this and won out of our sample that looked at 2014 to 2024. There were 407 non-incumbent general election winners in that period. And 17 of them did bankroll at least 90 percent of their first-quarter dollars and won. So not very many, but there are a handful of exceptions who do it and win, and they are all rich. So funding is complicated.

And on the “friends and family” side of early money, who’s actually writing those first checks?

Almost all early money comes from individual contributors. Most of that is itemized, so contributors over $200. Most of our elections are driven by the upper class. On average non-incumbent general election winners are getting like 50 percent of their early money from max-out donors, meaning people who pay the maximum of $6,600. Who can afford to pay that? Not normal Americans. It’s basically politically engaged, politically connected upper-middle class people who know people who run for office.

And the other thing is most of them are not repeat donors! Most of them don’t even give to more than one candidate. Because they’re probably just giving to the one rich person they know who is running for office that year. That’s why in political circles the first quarter is called the “friends and family quarter” — that’s when political consultants tell candidates to open up their Rolodex and call everybody they know from when they started kindergarten to who their coworkers are now.

Is there a point, empirically, where more spending stops helping or even backfires? I’m thinking of a case like Tom Steyer in California.

So the assumption has always been that money has diminishing returns. That goes back to Gary Jacobson’s work from forever ago. But nobody in political science puts a number on it. What they do is they say things like, Oh, the relationship is positive until at some point it goes down.

When outside groups pour money into a race, like AIPAC now, or the charter school lobby and the NRA in earlier cycles, can that spending become politically useful to the candidate it’s targeting, from backlash or otherwise?

“Most candidates are raising the bulk of their money from itemized donors. And most money is still from large donors.”

Yeah, so I don’t think there’s actually good research on this. I don’t think there’s enough information. But I think in general most people don’t know where money comes from. So the backlash is minimal. I’ve asked candidates who raised a lot of money from self-funding, “Did your self-funding ever come up?” And they’d say, “No, it never came up. I thought it would either help me, to show that I wasn’t beholden to special interests, or it would hurt me because I didn’t have the support that having fundraising money from others would demonstrate. But it didn’t come up.” Another candidate who raised a lot of money out of state told me that while it was raised a few times by people on Twitter, no one in person ever asked him about it.

Many people don’t know their own members of Congress. So you can imagine why there wouldn’t be a backlash, because people don’t know enough for there to be one — except in these cases where it does become an issue, like the recent Michigan Senate Democratic primary. It’s certainly part of the narrative for candidates like Elizabeth Warren, her stance against big money is a big part of her persona, same with Bernie Sanders and AOC. But those are real celebrity candidates.

In the 2010s, small-dollar fundraising was talked about as a democratizing counterweight to big money, but I remember reading that research found it could also make politics more polarized. Where did that political science literature land, and has the rise of small donors changed anything as Super PACs and mega-donors have grown more powerful?

So I would say the research is exactly how you describe it. There are so many studies that have shown that small-dollar donors tend to be more liberal Democrats and more conservative Republicans. So they are coming from the ideological edges of the spectrum. And there’s a lot of evidence of that. So that’s the finding, that’s the literature.

If you look at how candidates raise money by and large today, it’s not coming from small donations or unitemized donations. Most candidates are raising the bulk of their money from itemized donors. And most money is still from large donors.

So your read is that, despite all the attention on small-dollar fundraising, the underlying picture hasn’t shifted much either direction?

There’s a tendency to look at the cases that don’t conform to the rule rather than the rule. Like Eric Cantor [who lost in 2014] and AOC [who won in 2018]. In some cases, the losers raised way more than the partisanship of the district in those cases would predict, and then you have candidates who raised no money and unpredictably won. So there’s always this tendency to prop up the exceptions to the rule. In political science, though, we like to look at the rule.

Tom Tiffany, the new Republican nominee for governor in Wisconsin, is not just a passive supporter of President Donald Trump’s lies about the 2020 presidential election. He is an active promoter of them.

In December 2020, when he was a member of Congress, he signed on to a Texas lawsuit seeking to invalidate Joe Biden’s victory. On January 6, 2021, he voted against certifying the results in Pennsylvania and Texas just hours after rioters threatened to kill his colleagues. He has stated he would have overturned Wisconsin’s results too, and just this year endorsed an FBI investigation into the state’s elections. And though the national climate in 2026 favors Democrats, Wisconsin is a closely divided state: Tiffany could beat the odds and win the general.

There is, in short, a very real chance that someone who doesn’t believe American elections are legitimate may soon be supervising them in one of the 2028 presidential cycle’s most important swing states.

It’s not just Wisconsin. In each of the other most critical 2028 states — Michigan, Georgia, Pennsylvania, Arizona, and Nevada — Republicans have chosen an election denier as their nominee for governor, secretary of state, or both. If any of these candidates win, they will have at least some degree of authority over the administration of elections in a state that could determine the outcome of the next presidential election. 

So could the outcome of the 2026 midterms ultimately lead to a stolen election in 2028, as some are already warning? Election experts say it’s very unlikely.

State election laws contain numerous overlapping checks on interference from top officials. The judiciary has a pretty strong track record in stopping election malfeasance. A reform to the Electoral Count Act, passed quietly during the Biden presidency, significantly improved federal protections against election interference. And in 2028, the man uniquely responsible for previous pushes to invalidate the 2020 election won’t be on the ballot.

“[There are many] reasons why one should not be concerned,” said Rebecca Green, the co-director of the Election Law Program at the College of William and Mary. “Even in circumstances where there is a single partisan in control of a state’s election process, there are numerous checks on that power.”

That said, the risk isn’t zero. There is a remote chance, if the election is extremely close, that a well-placed election denier could swing the outcome. And even if they don’t outright steal an election, someone like Tiffany could still use their office to damage the electoral system in some pretty important ways.

“We have to be walking between complacency and alarmism,” said Rick Hasen, an expert on election law at UCLA. “Both of those are bad.”

Why the 2028 election is more secure than you think

Election law varies from state to state. Most of the time, the state’s secretary of state (SOS) is in charge of elections, but sometimes it’s the state board of elections. Sometimes the SOS is directly elected, and sometimes they’re appointed by the governor. 

But in broad strokes, there are three ways for governors or an allied SOS to attack an election. They can try to suppress opposition voters before the voting starts, by (for example) purging them from the rolls or putting insufficient polling stations in their neighborhoods. They can try to interfere during the vote count, by trying to disqualify outparty ballots or even falsifying the vote count. Or they can try to interfere afterward, by refusing to certify election results.

“Courts have shown themselves to be pretty good against election denialism. That’s true of both Democratic and Republican appointed and elected judges.”

Rick Hasen, UCLA election expert

Each of those is exceptionally, perhaps even prohibitively, difficult to pull off — even for a committed election denier.

Voter suppression is hard because the tactics are legally limited. Current federal law bans voter roll purges within 90 days of the election, which allowed Democrats to simply re-register voters disqualified in previous Republican purges (though the Supreme Court may overturn this provision in an upcoming case). Impediments like polling station placement are, per Hasen, hard to target; they are most likely to affect low-income and low-propensity voters, who have trended Republican in recent elections.

Interfering with the counting of votes is made difficult by what Green terms “adversarial election administration”: basically, the fact that partisans from both parties are involved in multiple different stages of the counting process. Every state has strict rules governing the counting process, and observers from both parties can see if they’re being breached in the other party’s favor. If there is an irregularity, courts are empowered to step in and correct it.

And it is simply illegal for governors or secretaries of state to refuse to certify legitimate elections. State laws in all relevant battleground states allow courts to issue a writ of mandamus requiring officials to certify duly counted results, which they have done repeatedly since 2020 when Republican-controlled county election boards withheld certification.

“Courts have shown themselves to be pretty good against election denialism,” Hasen said. “That’s true of both Democratic and Republican appointed and elected judges.”

The 2022 reform to the Electoral Count Act added several additional safeguards for presidential elections specifically, including a requirement that Congress defer to court determinations on electoral legitimacy if a governor attempts to defy them. 

And all of that assumes that a Republican who denied the result of the 2020 election would necessarily attempt to steal future elections. That may not be the case. 

“Just because you have partisan control of an election, and just because that person has cast doubt on previous elections, doesn’t mean that person is not going to be committed to running a fair election,” Green said.

Such a sentiment may sound naive, but it also may reflect the reality of post-Trump politics. The president was the driving force behind the attempt to overturn the 2020 election; his insistence that he did not lose, and his iron grip on the hearts and minds of the GOP base, pushed the party onto grounds that its other leaders clearly feared to tread. 

While Republicans certainly attempted to stack the electoral deck in their favor prior to Trump, these brazen attempts to overturn or steal legitimate elections are a product of his time in office. Whether he has permanently changed the Republican Party into an entity that will regularly reject elections they lose is very much an open question.

Why electing election deniers could still matter

All of this should give us some comfort about the upcoming state-level races: It is simply very hard for a governor or SOS to steal a presidential election even if they want to. While American democracy is weak in many different ways, the security of its election architecture specifically is actually one of its strong points.

But even the most impregnable-seeming fortresses can be breached. And there are reasons to worry that, in an extreme case, an election denier in key positions could well damage the integrity of the 2028 presidential election.

In a 2022 paper, the law professor Lisa Marshall Manheim argued that conventional legal analysis has proven inadequate for addressing the threat of election subversion. While legal experts are correct to say that the law makes stealing an election hard, the most dangerous threat to US elections — Trump’s 2020 campaign — was essentially extra-legal in character.

While American democracy is weak in many different ways, the security of its election architecture specifically is actually one of its strong points.

While “superficially” operating through the legal system, Trump was actually asking officials from Congress on down to engage in obviously unlawful behavior. When Trump asked Georgia Secretary of State Brad Raffensperger to “find” just enough votes to overturn the state’s results, or for Mike Pence to find the “courage” to nullify the results on January 6, he wasn’t asking these two men to act according to their legal duties. He was asking them to step beyond law, to embrace a reading of their office’s powers so obviously absurd that it amounts to declaring the text of the law to be no limit at all.

This is the nightmare scenario: one in which officials in key positions simply decide that they no longer have to follow a good-faith reading of the law. If enough officials in the right places decide to cast off legal shackles, no carefully crafted statute can stop them. We will, as Hasen put it, exit the domain of law into “something else”: the politics of raw power.

Anyone who endorsed Trump’s lies about the 2020 election — let alone actively attempted to act on them — has already shown a degree of contempt for election law. That means that one can’t rule out a similar display of contempt in the future, only this time with the power to turn that into impactful defiance of law.

It’s vastly too early to say the conditions under which such a radical breach might occur, in 2028 or in the future. A lot depends on the makeup of the Republican Party; whether leaders after Trump embrace or downplay his hostility to the electoral system itself. But we now know that the risk is there. And the more election deniers we have in key positions, the greater the odds are that the risk becomes real — even if the baseline probability remains low in absolute terms.

This connects to another, more insidious risk: that electing election deniers could exacerbate the ongoing crisis of electoral confidence since 2020.

Even if Tiffany or someone like him doesn’t try to outright prevent or nullify Democratic victories in their state, they could still declare that they lack confidence in the result’s integrity. That they tried to run a fair election, but that Democrats or the courts prevented them from doing so — and thus, despite their lack of legal powers to stop it, that they believe the election to have been compromised or even stolen.

This may not lead to a series of January 6s across the country. But even if it didn’t, it would deepen the lack of trust Republican voters have in the electoral system. If Republicans post-Trump continue to believe that Democrats are engaged in widespread cheating, that could contribute to an environment where the kind of extra-legal shenanigans Manheim warned of could look more tempting.

So while it is quite unlikely that the 2026 elections will lead to a crisis in 2028, it could play a role in dashing the possibility that American democracy moves on from the dangerous Trump-era fighting over elections. And as long as that fighting persists, another 2020-style crisis will remain a live possibility.

This story appeared in Today, Explained, a daily newsletter that helps you understand the most compelling news and stories of the day. Subscribe here.

Wisconsin won’t be the very first state to get a socialist governor, after all. In Tuesday’s gubernatorial primary, Democrats there narrowly selected David Crowley, a moderate county executive, over the democratic socialist and reformed Thanksgiving-hater Francesca Hong. 

This contest was widely seen as a test of the progressive movement’s strength beyond deep-blue cities…and a bit of a mess. Two candidates dropped out amid scandal just weeks before the election. Crowley himself suspended his campaign and endorsed another candidate, only to reenter the race with less than a month left. That teed up a chaotic, last-minute showdown between establishment Democrats and the party’s upstart left-wing contingent.

That contingent was expected to win in Wisconsin, where Hong campaigned on practical issues like universal childcare, free school meals, and opposition to new data centers. But she also struggled to explain controversial positions that she staked out at the height of the pandemic — positions that both pro-Crowley groups and Republicans pilloried in well-funded attack ads. 

The furor certainly riled up Wisconsin Democrats: They turned out in huge numbers on Tuesday. And while Hong performed well in Madison and other liberal strongholds, voters in both Milwaukee and most rural counties went for Crowley. 

Go a little deeper

The Wisconsin primary was weird and messy, so I wouldn’t generalize its results too much. But there’s little doubt that Hong suffered from her association with “Woke 1” — a strain of early-2020s social justice activism that many on the left now want to disavow.

You’d probably recognize Woke 1, even if you haven’t heard the term. More than a movement or a policy agenda, it was a strident, binary way of talking about race, class, and social justice that peaked after the racial reckoning of 2020…and that ultimately alienated many centrist and working-class voters, including some in minority communities. 

“Defunding the police” = classic Woke 1. So are calls to abolish police or prisons — or, as Hong proposed in one infamous 2020 tweet, to cancel Thanksgiving.

Many Democratic voters agreed with the impulses behind these slogans — police and prisons need reform; colonialism bad — but felt alienated by the rhetoric around them. And even in Woke 1’s heyday, issues like immigration and racial justice mattered less to most Americans than things like healthcare and inflation. 

As left-wing candidates attempt to build new and broader coalitions, many seem to have gotten that message. Politicians like New York City Mayor Zohran Mamdani and Michigan Senate candidate Abdul El-Sayed have both walked back comments about defunding the police, for instance. 

Instead, they’ve centered issues like affordability and healthcare and begun openly discussing how their positions changed. “There was a huge opening of the Overton window” during the pandemic, New York Rep. Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez said Sunday. “Rhetoric in that time is not rhetoric that we would use today.”

One link for later

➨ Spend more intentionally. Frugality was all the rage in the wake of the Great Recession, when a generation of popular, thrift-focused bloggers taught Americans to do more with less. Pop culture has since turned on frugality, as a value — in part because people feel so pessimistic about their long-term economic prospects — but it’s still worth mining the old-school frugalsphere for relevant lessons. 

Before you go…

• Did you know…that since 1980, the number of fires in the US has fallen by more than half? Thank more effective smoke alarms, automatic sprinklers, and fire-resistant furniture and finishes. 
• Today’s trivia: Which German philosopher wrote Critique of Practical Reason? (You can find this and other brain puzzles in Vox’s daily crossword. Look for the answer in tomorrow’s edition.)
• Yesterday’s trivia: Yesterday we asked you for the country whose capital is Vientiane. That would be Laos, which — together with China, Cuba, North Korea and Vietnam — has one of the world’s only one-party communist governments. 

The American Israel Public Affairs Committee — better known by its short name, AIPAC — bills itself as a bipartisan advocate “for policies that strengthen the US-Israel partnership.” In 2026, it’s become something else: a major — and seemingly, losing — issue in Democratic politics. 

Progressive Democratic candidates in primaries across the country are explicitly calling out their opponents’ relationship with AIPAC, often using the connection as a rallying point to persuade voters about the problem of “dark money” in politics. Most recently, in Michigan, AIPAC spent about $30 million boosting Rep. Haley Stevens in her bid for the state’s Democratic Senate nomination. Her opponent, Abdul El-Sayed, drew attention to it again and again. She lost. 

As one of the biggest spenders in US elections, the group has gone well beyond its origins lobbying members of Congress to support its agenda. According to David Dayen, executive editor of the American Prospect, AIPAC is spending millions of dollars against candidates who speak out against Israel’s actions in Palestine — sometimes using advertisements that have nothing to do with Israel, and may appear unrelated to AIPAC.

Dayen spoke with Today, Explained co-host Noel King about the backlash surrounding AIPAC’s spending, the group’s complicated web of shell PACs,  and what it all means for the Democratic Party’s quickly evolving stance on Israel.

Below is an excerpt of their conversation, edited for length and clarity. There’s much more in the full podcast, so listen to Today, Explained wherever you get podcasts, including Apple Podcasts, Pandora, and Spotify. 

What is AIPAC?

AIPAC started out as a lobbying organization. It was inaugurated in the 1950s. It has historically been seen as one of the more powerful lobbying organizations in Washington. And its goal is to strengthen and maintain the relationship between the US and Israel.

They have annual conventions where pretty much everybody across the political spectrum attends and gives speeches. But something changed about five years ago. AIPAC was not content to just lobby members of Congress. They wanted to influence who actually got to Washington. And they began to engage in the use of super PACs to run advertising and other forms of political engagement in campaigns, and particularly in primary campaigns that determine who actually gets to a general election.  

Why did they want to influence who got to Washington? Maybe that sounds like an obvious question, but it wasn’t happening before, so why did it start happening?

One thing that happened is in 2018, we saw the rise of what is known as “The Squad,” and that included Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez, Ilhan Omar, and Rashida Tlaib — people who had very strident views, particularly about the US-Israel relationship. Those progressive Democrats were very successful in winning safe seat races. And I’m not in their head, but it could be that AIPAC wanted to try to provide a counterweight, and stop that from happening, and use their resources — very prodigious resources — to spend money in these campaigns and to make sure that doesn’t happen again.

Once upon a time, an endorsement from AIPAC was a powerful thing. It could be a huge benefit to a candidate. What exactly did it get you when AIPAC said, “This is our guy, this is our gal?”

I mean, in practical terms, it probably got you $5,000 because that’s the limit on a corporate PAC. But because AIPAC was powerful and also a bipartisan organization, getting your name on the list of AIPAC endorsees was something that you could tout in your election. It was something that showed that you had a commitment to what has historically been an important bond between the US and Israel. 

It certainly wasn’t as controversial in the years before 2023 as it is today. After October 7, we saw what a lot of people have termed a genocide against the Palestinian people. The changing attitudes around the US-Israel relationship more broadly, where large numbers of Americans now view that relationship negatively, have changed what the meaning of an AIPAC endorsement really is.

I know that you’ve dug into the numbers. What do we know about how much money AIPAC is specifically spending this midterm cycle?

It’s a hard question to answer. If you go by the Federal Election Commission disclosures, AIPAC has raised about a hundred million dollars this election cycle, and has spent in independent expenditures — that’s TV ads and mailers and these kinds of things — about $28 million. 

But that is an undercount for a couple different reasons. When I say those numbers, I am going by the specific super PAC that AIPAC has created. It’s called United Democracy Project. United Democracy Project has sent money to other PACs — about $9 million worth.

Is this a lot of money?

I think the real innovation here is the transfer of money from, in this case, pro-Israel PACs, to these pop-up PACs, these shell PACs that are created specifically for a particular election and then funded through AIPAC and, in some cases, other other pro-Israel PACs. 

They are sort of laundering this money through to other PACs, so those other PACs run the ads and it doesn’t look like it’s coming from AIPAC. A perfect example was the first real major primary state of the cycle, which was Illinois.

There were four open seats in the Chicago area that are pretty strongly blue. A Democrat is going to win the general election. And so these primaries were highly contested. AIPAC set up two PACs, one called Elect Chicago Women and the other called Affordable Chicago Now. And millions of dollars went from AIPAC’s super PAC, which is called United Democracy Project, into these two pop-up PACs. 

And those two PACs then funded ads for four candidates in those four open seat races. Now, if you were watching that on television, you would say, “Hey, elect Chicago women. That sounds like a good idea. I’m gonna watch this ad” or “Affordable Chicago now. I like affordability.” The truth is that this money was coming from AIPAC into these ads and supporting candidates that were generally supportive of the US-Israel relationship. 

Now, those four races — AIPAC won two of them and they lost two of them. And it was really interesting, I think, where they were successful, and where they weren’t. In one race up in the Evanston area, it became a big issue that AIPAC actually was behind these ads from Elect Chicago Women and Affordable Chicago Now. 

The [AIPAC] candidate, a state senator named Laura Fine, actually was harmed, I think, in the election by this fact that this got out, and that this became a major issue in the campaign. And she ended up finishing third in that primary, despite having millions of dollars supporting her. There were other races where this wasn’t sort of as explicit a factor in the election itself, and those candidates were able to win. 

This all sounds quite shady and yet I wonder — how unusual is it for an interest group in politics to be doing something like this?

I think it’s pretty unusual. It’s not something I’ve seen a whole lot of. We saw it to a smaller degree in some other election cycles — two years ago, four years ago — but it has become a concerted strategy this time. 

And so there are these pop-up PACS that are specific to a campaign, but also some established PACs that have been around for a while are receiving money from AIPAC and affiliated groups and using that in campaigns. 

Emily’s List is a very well-known political organization that supports pro-choice women. They took [hundreds of thousands of dollars] from an organization called Democratic Majority for Israel that is not affiliated with AIPAC per se, but aligns on similar candidates. 

There are other examples of this, more obscure examples. Like there’s a PAC called Crush MAGA PAC. And it’s affiliated with a different, I’m gonna sound crazy when I say this, but Crush MAGA PAC is affiliated with a different pack called Save Democracy, and Save Democracy has received $100,000 from United Democracy Project, which is AIPAC Super PAC. So sometimes the layers here are two or three or even four PACs deep. 

And it can be really hard to untangle all this and figure out where the money has come from, because AIPAC certainly isn’t saying, “We’re funding that campaign.” They’re releasing disclosures as required by the Federal Election Commission, but they’re not saying where the money is earmarked for, if it’s for a specific race, if it’s for a specific candidate.

AIPAC at times has responded to criticism of it by appearing to conflate it with criticism of Israel or criticism of Jews. Last year, Sen. Bernie Sanders comes out with a statement. He denounces Benjamin Netanyahu’s government for what he says is the “extermination of Gaza.” He calls for an end to military aid to Israel. He says people are starving to death.

AIPAC attacks Sanders’s statement, calling it a hate-filled rant and blood libel, and pointing out that in his statement, he didn’t mention Hamas’s attack on Israel. So AIPAC is now public in a way that historically it has not been. And it is tying criticism of Israel to antisemitic sentiment. Does this help or hurt AIPAC’s cause, do you think?

It depends on the messenger, but the issue is that there’s a very straight line between how this money is being used, transferred, spent, concealed, and a broader critique that I think a lot of Democrats have about money in politics. And so when AIPAC decides, “Okay, we’re going respond to criticism that is rooted in what AIPAC believes, and the conditions in Israel and Gaza and the West Bank, et cetera,” to saying, you know, “Any criticism of what we’re doing is antisemitic — I think people who see this as a broader problem about money in politics see that as an extremely cynical take.”

I don’t think that really connects to one of the big reasons why people are really objecting to this, which is that they don’t want to see their politicians essentially bought.

But it’s additionally fraught because there are antisemitic tropes where, you know, a cabal of Jews is secretly controlling the government and finance, right? It feels triply complicated.

Look, I’m Jewish, and in having to cover this, I have to try to follow money from Jewish groups from one place to another, and that can certainly be uncomfortable. And it does add some weight to this issue. 

But I feel like we are talking here not about somebody’s religion, but about a policy. And it’s a twofold policy. One is the policy of the US government funding, to the tune of billions of dollars, the destruction of an entire region, and also the policy of allowing super PACs to dictate who ends up making decisions in Washington.

Over the weekend, Rep. Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez (D-NY) announced on Instagram that she had joined the thousands of American women who freeze their eggs every year, a number that has been steadily growing for the past decade.

“This is a choice that I am making to feel more in control of my life,” Ocasio-Cortez said in her Instagram story sharing her decision. 

As politicians in the public eye often do, Ocasio-Cortez turned her personal choice into a statement:

Usually I keep my private life quite private, but I have made the decision to start freezing my eggs, and I want to share this because I was weighing it for a very long time. I was saving for it for a very long time, and there just isn’t a ton out there, I feel, and sometimes it can feel very daunting. As women in general, we are not taught about our own bodies. We are not prepared for our own lives. … We need to show more depictions of women having full lives.

At the same time, she acknowledged being “in a very privileged position” to be able to take advantage of egg freezing. The process still typically costs $10,000 or more — and most insurance still doesn’t cover it. Not even AOC’s federal health plan. Egg freezing is a luxury afforded only to the people who can pay for it and take on the significant burden of the treatment and all of the uncertainty that comes with it.

Ocasio-Cortez’s announcement underscores the awkward place that egg freezing still occupies in the landscape of fertility access — at a moment when Republicans in power are lamenting falling birth rates and searching for ways to encourage more people to start families. In theory, egg freezing gives women the flexibility to take more control of their decisions about having kids and preserve that possibility for themselves in the future. But in reality, the promises of this important procedure have often been unfulfilled. 

Beyond the intimidating price tag, as AOC alluded to, many young women don’t know some of the basics about age-related fertility decline and how to maximize their chances that egg freezing will lead to an actual pregnancy. There are some “significant gaps in fertility knowledge amongst Gen Z women in particular,” said Danielle Melfi, CEO of Resolve, a fertility treatment advocacy group. 

“That points to why someone like AOC who has such broad awareness and broad reach across her channels,” Melfi told me, “specifically younger people who aren’t tuned into any politician but would be tuned into her. Her sharing her story and journey matters.”

Egg freezing is not a panacea, and it never will be. But it can give individuals options and a sense of empowerment. And right now, as AOC acknowledged in her video, those are privileges reserved for the people who are in the know and have the means to take advantage of it. For everyone else, significant barriers still remain.

Freezing time doesn’t come cheap — or easily

On average, the cost of egg freezing averages between $10,000 and $20,000. And, for most people, including AOC, who makes $174,000 a year on her congressional salary alone, health insurance coverage is not an option. According to a 2024 KFF employer survey, just 12 percent of large employers who offer health insurance provide egg or sperm freezing.

That’s not for lack of trying.

As of now, 21 states have mandates requiring health insurers to provide some level of coverage for “fertility preservation” when it is deemed medically necessary — for a younger cancer patient who is about to undergo chemotherapy, for example, a more and more common scenario these days. But coverage for what is viewed as elective freezing, as AOC is doing, is still generally not included in those requirements.

But even the state-level mandates come with a huge carveout. Under America’s Frankenstein healthcare system, there is a very important type of health insurance plan that is exempt from such state laws: self-funded employer plans, meaning those that fully cover their workers’ medical expenses without relying on an outside insurance company. They are governed only by a federal law known as the Employee Retirement Income Security Act, and that law provides no guarantees for egg freezing or other reproductive care. 

About half of Americans get their insurance through their work, and of those employer plans, more than 60 percent are self-funded. That is a lot of people who have no guarantees for this kind of service, even when a serious medical reason is motivating them to freeze their eggs. The select few who can get egg freezing covered are typically higher-income, too, adding to the disparity between the US healthcare system’s haves and have-nots.

Support for IVF among the American public has been rising, with 70 percent saying in 2024 that access to IVF was a good thing. And fertility coverage is having a political moment, too: the HOPE With Fertility Services Act, which would require insurers to cover some basic fertility treatment when it is deemed medically necessary, was introduced this year with a bipartisan slate of more than 20 sponsors, though it remains stuck at the committee level for now. The Trump administration has fixated on dropping fertility rates, but, beyond a limited IVF executive order, they have not seriously pursued plans to expand access to egg freezing. A national mandate to cover egg freezing, even only when medically necessary, could end up being opposed by both health insurers (which have fought all kinds of benefit requirements in the past) and the religious right (which has specifically challenged mandates for reproductive healthcare, like the Affordable Care Act’s contraceptive mandate).

It will likely take a variety of policy changes to give people more financial support for this important but expensive service. So what now? Unfortunately, I think we are stuck with patchy coverage and can expect only incremental improvements for the foreseeable future. On the plus side, Melfi said, more employers may increasingly offer these benefits as a competitive advantage.

But access isn’t the only problem.

Egg freezing works best when people actually know how to take advantage of it

Even if a person is able to access egg freezing, it doesn’t always pay off. 

A study published in the American Journal of Obstetrics and Gynecology in February found that fewer than 6 percent of people who froze their eggs electively had come back to thaw them within five to seven years. Of those people, 79 percent had a usable embryo after warming and 29 percent had a pregnancy that resulted in a live birth.

Of course, just because some people haven’t warmed their eggs within seven years doesn’t mean they won’t come back in nine: The point of this service is you could freeze your eggs at 30 even if you’re not ready for kids until you are 40. Those numbers will likely grow with time. And some of those people might end up successfully getting pregnant on their own the old-fashioned way, which means they won’t need their frozen eggs at all. 

“Typically, people who are coming in to freeze their eggs haven’t actually tried to conceive yet. When they are ready to start conceiving, a lot of people may not have any issues conceiving,” said Dr. Mabel Lee, a reproductive endocrinologist and infertility specialist at HRC Fertility in Pasadena, California who led the published study. 

What is true is that getting pregnant is difficult no matter how you go about it — even conceiving through intercourse only results in a 20 to 25 percent success rate on a given try, Lee said — and success with frozen eggs depends on how young the person was when their eggs were preserved: The younger they are, the higher the chances of success. That makes it all the more important that people — particularly younger people — know about the realities of egg freezing and how to make the most of it, whether they are spending thousands of dollars of their own money or whether they are using insurance to pay for it. Awareness among young people of the basic relationship between age and fertility remains discouragingly low. Lee said she has patients come in all the time who say they wish they had known more about egg freezing sooner.

The likelihood of a live birth may go up if the eggs were younger, but is that enough to convince someone in their mid-20s to pay out of pocket to freeze their eggs? In the midst of an affordability crisis, is that even an option? It might not be; in the meantime, Lee said women could get a blood test to measure their ovarian reserves, which estimates a person’s egg count, and use that to make an informed decision about egg freezing in consultation with their doctor.

Once you have decided to freeze your eggs, using a high-quality clinic is a must: That’s the other major variable in success, Lee told me. The Society for Assisted Reproductive Technology maintains a national database covering clinics across the country and tracking birth success rates and other metrics. It’s like a report card of sorts, so you can hopefully choose the best provider for you.

There are still no guarantees. Fertility is too fickle. But by improving access and raising awareness, there are clear steps we can take to try to maximize egg freezing’s potential.