The Senate voted 86 to 11 to pass the sweeping Russia sanctions bill championed by the late Sen. Lindsey Graham on Friday, advancing legislation that would give the White House more leverage against Moscow as it seeks to end the war in Ukraine — and a brand new tariff tool.

Now that the bill has cleared the upper chamber, it’s up to lawmakers in the House to determine its fate when they return in September. President Donald Trump has already signaled he would sign the bill if it lands on his desk.

The bill, which Graham and cosponsors including Sen. Richard Blumenthal (D-Conn.) have worked to advance for more than a year, would issue mandatory sanctions not only on Russia’s leadership and energy sector, but also on abetters of Russia’s defense industry and so-called shadow fleet in an effort to curb the flow of cash to Moscow’s war chest.

Ukraine’s supporters on the Hill and officials in Kyiv have been urging its passage, arguing that it would deal a timely blow to Russia’s war efforts as Kyiv seeks to capitalize on a series of recent favorable turns in the war to end it altogether.

In comments on the Senate floor ahead of the vote, ranking member of the Senate Foreign Relations Committee and vocal backer of the bill Sen. Jeanne Shaheen (D-N.H.) stressed the “urgency” of the moment.

“The momentum is on Ukraine’s side,” Shaheen said. “Now is the time to put more pressure on Putin.” She added that the situation on the ground could turn back in Moscow’s favor within months — especially with assistance from foreign foes like China.

It has already been a long road for the sanctions measure, which Graham and Blumenthal first introduced in April 2025. The lawmakers negotiated for months with the White House, which wanted more control over what entities it could sanction, and by how much. In July, Graham announced — from Kyiv — that the White House had agreed to a revised version of the bill.

The new iteration of the bill includes broad authority for the president to waive any sanctions that are applied, as long as the White House provides a written certification that the waiver is “in the national interests of the United States” and a report outlining the basis for the certification.

Following a last-minute demand from Trump, lawmakers also added language to the bill to extend certain sanctions on Iran.

Graham’s sudden death just days after winning Trump’s green light spurred his fellow senators to support the legislation, which cleared a procedural hurdle at the end of the month by a wide margin.

But a provision in the bill that would grant the White House authority to issue 100 percent tariffs on top buyers of Russian oil, and countries facilitating sanctions evasion, nearly derailed the measure’s passage in the upper chamber before lawmakers left town for August recess.

An amendment pushed by Sens. Rand Paul (R-Ky.) and Ron Wyden (D-Ore.) that would have stripped the tariff language from the bill entirely failed in a 64 to 32 floor vote Friday.

Still, nearly one-third of the upper chamber voted in favor of striking the tariff language, highlighting Democrats’ worries about handing more tariff powers to a White House already eager to use that tool against Washington’s global allies and enemies. That Democratic discontent is likely a foreshadowing of a similar sticking point for lawmakers on the House side when they return from recess in September.

As Senate leadership tried to reach an agreement to fast-track consideration of the bill before the chamber adjourned for the summer, lawmakers opposed to the tariff provisions threatened to derail that effort over squabbles about what amendments should get a floor vote.

One of those amendments was an effort from Sens. Raphael Warnock (D-Ga.) and Bill Cassidy (R-La.), to add language curbing the tariff powers afforded to Trump in the bill. Warnock — who voted to advance the bill in July — had threatened to thwart Senate leadership’s effort to fast-track consideration of the legislation this week if his amendment didn’t get a floor vote.

But Warnock pulled the amendment at the eleventh hour Thursday evening after securing the Trump administration’s commitment to enact a clear off-ramp for countries hit with tariffs, according to a person familiar with the senator’s plans granted anonymity to speak about internal conversations.

That move may not go far enough to quell the concerns of Democrats in the House — some of whom have already expressed frustration over the provision.

House Foreign Affairs ranking member Gregory Meeks (D-N.Y.) and Rep. Don Beyer (D-Va.) issued a joint statement following the Senate vote slamming the current bill text as “unacceptable” and citing the broad waiver authority and tariff powers granted to the White House.

But the lawmakers vowed to “continue to seek a path forward that remedies this bill’s flaws.”

BERLIN — Europe’s reserves of natural gas are running dangerously low, risking fresh energy woes if the Iran war rages on and cold spells drive up heating demand over winter.

But the continent’s top energy user doesn’t seem too bothered.

Germany is the EU’s biggest vulnerability because its sheer size means gas shortfalls there could be felt in neighboring countries, driving up prices across the bloc if it fails to restore its reserves.

That’s prompted growing calls for Berlin to do the unthinkable: intervene outright to direct its state-controlled energy giants to buy gas at any price, abandoning years of free-market doctrine on energy policy.

So far, the government has refused to budge, even as it falls short of EU targets and faces the risk of physical supply shortages as early as November. It’s a gamble that the markets will figure everything out, even as war and hot weather distort traditional incentives and upend global supply chains.

“Storage levels are not only exceptionally low for this time of year, but historically low,” said Sebastian Heinermann, the managing director of Germany’s top gas storage association, INES.

But Germany, he warned, is still relying on an outdated, market-oriented approach to refill its reserves, even when there are “hardly any market-economic incentives left.”

Since Russia’s invasion of Ukraine in 2022, EU countries have been required to hit gas storage targets of 90 percent of national capacity by winter to prevent serious supply shortfalls. The EU lowered that target to 80 percent following the outbreak of the Iran war to prevent panic buying.

Typically, refilling is the responsibility of traders and utilities, which buy gas cheap in the summer to store and then sell in the winter for a profit. But buyers say higher summer prices as a result of the Iran war and climate change have upended that dynamic, leaving gas reserves across the bloc at around 58 percent of national capacity, 16 percentage points below the five-year historical average and the lowest level since 2011. 

The low reserves have already added to the increased pressure on gas prices linked to renewed tensions around the Strait of Hormuz, with the European natural gas benchmark now consistently higher than it was for the first four months of the Iran war.

The European Commission, the EU’s executive arm, has said the bloc faces no winter supply risks. But a report by energy analytics firm Rapidan projects that reserves will rise to only 65 percent of total storage capacity by November, arguing that hitting the EU’s target by winter won’t be possible without “materially higher prices.” 

That risk has been exacerbated, analysts say, by the bloc’s move in recent years to replace its long-term supply deals with Russia with short-term purchases of globally traded liquefied natural gas. These seaborne cargoes are highly mobile and go to the highest bidder — leaving buyers more exposed to volatility on international markets, especially in the wake of the loss of key supplies from Qatar and rising demand in Asia.

Germany, the bloc’s largest gas consumer, has seen its reserves fill up even more slowly than others, in part thanks to its more hands-off, market-led approach to restocking than many of its neighbors. As a result, reserves stood at only 47 percent of national capacity in August, according to the latest data — the lowest fill level since records began. That’s especially worrying as the country’s reserves are important for the bloc as a whole, representing over 20 percent of the EU’s storage capacity. 

Nevertheless, Berlin is staying the course. While its energy ministry has acknowledged the country’s historically low reserves, it has refused to intervene to direct its main state-controlled gas buyers, SEFE and Uniper, to buy gas at current prices to ensure its targets are met, instead of waiting for market conditions to improve.

“It is the responsibility of companies and traders to fill the storage facilities for the winter,” a spokesperson for the German energy ministry told POLITICO. “Government-led filling of the storage facilities would further constrain the gas market and drive prices even higher. The supply situation over the coming months would actually deteriorate.”

Whether this is the right approach will become clearer by winter, said Laurent Ruseckas, a senior gas analyst at S&P Global. If temperatures are unseasonably low, traders may be forced to buy additional supplies at late notice, driving up prices, especially if the Strait of Hormuz remains closed. On the other hand, intervening could raise prices prematurely if winter turns out to be mild.

“If you start buying now to get storage to some politically predetermined level you’re making prices higher now to get insurance that you won’t get higher prices in the winter when it’s cold,” said Ruseckas.

Germany’s reluctance to move quickly also highlights the difficulty the EU’s fragmented energy sector has in competing with more centralized Asian economies that have acted more quickly to secure supplies, consistently outbidding European countries even as their reserves run low.

Others warn that physical supply strains are also possible. Heinermann, of INES, warned that even filling the country’s reserves to 76 percent of capacity — which SEFE says is achievable — would not necessarily meet its supply needs if winter is “exceptionally cold.” That could ripple out to neighboring countries to which Germany is treaty-bound to provide emergency gas assistance, including Austria, Switzerland, Italy and Denmark.

Heinermann called on the German government to encourage faster restocking by lowering network charges at storage facilities or abolishing the conversion levy, fees imposed for the conversion of gas on national grids. Berlin has already unveiled plans for a new emergency gas stockpile, but that will only cover 10 percent of the country’s gas capacity and kick off officially next summer.

It’s no surprise that other major gas consumers have already waded into the private sector. The Netherlands, another free-market champion suffering from low gas reserves, earlier this summer allocated €1.2 billion for its state energy company, EBN, to more swiftly top up its reserves. 

But Berlin’s energy giants are sticking to their guns — for now.

A spokesperson for SEFE told POLITICO that even though “international conflicts” could weigh on European storage levels, the 70 percent target “remains achievable” without intervention. He pointed out that 78 percent of German storage capacity has already been booked, though acknowledged that doesn’t necessarily translate to actual volumes of gas stored. 

Regulatory measures could be useful if “necessary” but could distort markets and increase costs, he added, without specifying what.

A Uniper spokesperson was less confident, warning it would be “increasingly challenging to reach the target storage levels before the winter season starts” at the current rate of filling. But she too stopped short of calling for intervention, arguing instead for better incentives for refilling — mirroring growing calls from gas lobbyists in Brussels to scrap the rules outright.

The influencers have started to promise me that they know how to get me to stop shopping: I just have to enter every garment of clothing I own into an app, one by one. “I digitally cataloged my ENTIRE wardrobe,” they swear on videos, routinely pulling in hundreds of thousands of views. 

The selling point of these apps (Indyx, Whering, ACloset, OpenWardrobe, and many more) is seductive; they promise to help users understand exactly what they already own so that they shop less. In theory, that means saving money — and slowing the steady damage the fashion industry is wrecking on our planet.

“Collectively, we are buying and then throwing away more than ever before,” Indyx warned on its website, before reciting dire statistics about how many clothes are produced now and how many of them end up in landfills. Luckily, it said, “We’re here to break the cycle.” 

That idea appealed to me. I am not a fashionista, but I enjoy clothes enough to buy more than I really need, despite what I know about fashion’s impact on the planet. My intellectual understanding of climate change can’t always stop me from clicking “add to cart” when I see a dashing pair of wide-legged trousers, even though there’s a hard limit on the number of times a person can wear wide-legged trousers in one week. 

Still, to make these apps work, you have to individually enter photos of everything you own now and everything you buy in the future, which sounds like a tedious, laborious process. (You can take the photos yourself or hunt down product pictures from the brand.) And because so many influencers are pushing this, it’s hard to tell how life-changing it really is and how much is just marketing speak and hype. So, I decided to test one of these apps — Indyx — for you. I also talked to wardrobe cataloging enthusiasts and experts on sustainable consumption to see what I could learn from them. I wanted to know: Could cataloging our wardrobes actually make us shop less? And, if it can, would it be worth the effort? 

“There’s only one solution to the mess that we find ourselves in: buying less”

Wardrobe cataloging apps did not always advertise themselves as being good for the planet. 

In 2023, the journalist Avery Trufelman investigated the nascent wardrobe cataloging app industry for her podcast series Articles of Interest. She found that a lot of the apps flopped. The issue was the business model, which was based on revenue generated from affiliate links. The idea was that people would click to purchase items they saw within the apps, and the company would take a cut of each sale. But when the apps were well designed, Trufelman reported, users felt less of a need to buy more clothes.

The current generation of wardrobe cataloging app developers has turned this from a bug into a feature. They now market their wares as the solution to overshopping, and they make their money by charging for either the app itself or for its extra content. (Indyx itself is free, but you have to pay a $75 yearly subscription for its enhanced features.)

What the marketing gets right is that the fast fashion problem is real. “Anywhere from two to 10 percent of our global greenhouse gas emissions are associated with fashion,” said Brie Berry, assistant professor of environment and sustainability at Ursinus College in Pennsylvania.

Fashion’s emissions are generated by the factories that manufacture clothing (the water and the fertilizers for growing cotton, the oil for developing synthetics) and the consumers who wear these garments (the slow shed of microplastics from yoga pants, the water and the energy consumed by washing and drying). When we get rid of old clothes, much of it ends up in landfills or incinerated. By some estimates, the fashion industry contributes more to climate change than the aviation industry. 

“There’s only one solution to the mess that we find ourselves in: buying less,” said Katia Dayan Vladimirova, a researcher whose consulting firm Post Growth Fashion focuses on alternatives to growth in the fashion system. 

To buy less, it helps most people to know what they already own, said Alyssa Beltempo, a slow-fashion content creator and educator. Beltempo makes videos guiding viewers through the process of “shopping their own closets” to help them buy less stuff, but she’s found in her work that a lot of people aren’t clear on the contents of those closets. Because of that confusion, they end up buying stuff they don’t need.

That’s where cataloging can be helpful, Beltempo said. “These apps reduce that hurdle of not seeing the clothes you have,” she said.

Personally, what I was looking for wasn’t enhanced clarity so much as a barrier. I wanted to erect a wall between my desire to own a new piece of clothing and the click of the buy button. A searchable, scannable lookbook of everything I owned, I thought, might well do the trick. 

How to catalog every piece of clothing you own

Indyx has been hyping up its new AI feature, which transforms a picture of a garment hanging limply off a hanger into a neat flat lay photo. It sped the process up, but it was also buggy; it garbled text on the front of T-shirts, misread colors, and had a tendency to interpret loose threads as ornamental bows while leaving wrinkles (I am not an ironer) untouched. 

I was also concerned that the process inserted AI, with its insatiable need for water and energy, into a project sold as a way of reducing my environmental impact. But the sustainability experts I spoke to were both skeptical that this sort of light AI use was such a big deal. 

“Taking photos and then asking an app to think about how to arrange your clothing into outfits is probably one of the lighter uses of AI that I could imagine,” Berry said. Vladimirova agreed that using AI for this task is unlikely to be as bad for the planet as buying even one new garment. “But then, there is also no proven causality between using this app and reducing overconsumption,” she added as a caveat.

It’s possible to input your clothes into Indyx without using the AI feature, but the truth is: I don’t know that I could have made myself go through with the whole rigamarole without it. I ran out of free AI processing about 80 percent of the way through and, overwhelmed at the thought of having to do my own flat lays, paid $75 to buy more without hesitating.

All told, it took me about five hours and many old episodes of Top Chef to photograph my summer clothes, not including shoes, jewelry, or accessories. My time spent cataloging did not include the process of entering additional data about each garment (including its initial cost, its fiber composition, where I bought it), a herculean task that I have been tackling much more slowly than the initial entry process.

Doing the shoot properly would have taken longer. Angela Goodman, a 51-year-old marketer from Seattle with a background in product photography, says she ran her own cataloging session like a pro shoot, using art lights and folding and refolding each garment to lie perfectly. It took her 10 hours spread out over multiple weeks. 

As an exercise, photographing every piece of clothing I owned was clarifying, although not significantly more clarifying than going through it Marie Kondo-style. It left me with a small donation pile of items I no longer wanted and a fretful awareness that I own too many white T-shirts. In theory, that’s the kind of insight a wardrobe cataloging app produces by the spade.

“I’m not shopping. I’m building.”

Vladimirova, the sustainability consultant, said that, even though she has a better idea than most of how destructive the fashion industry is, she struggles with over-shopping. She thinks a lot about why people buy so many clothes; her best guess is that it’s a way to self-soothe. 

“A lot of consumption happens in the evening when we feel vulnerable and tired, and we’re trying to reward ourselves with this shot of dopamine,” she said. For some people, these apps can replace the dopamine hit that comes from scrolling through other people’s outfit photos with the dopamine hit of scrolling through your own clothes, neatly folded and filtered until they look like aspirational fashion inspo. 

Part of the satisfaction here is the infographics. After you’ve given Indyx all your fashion data, the app crunches your numbers and tells users how much you’ve bought new versus secondhand, as well as the share of natural fibers as opposed to synthetics in your closet, so that you can track the environmental impact of your shopping habits. (Synthetics tend to have a higher carbon footprint than natural fibers.) It tells you what their cost per wear is on each item to help you track which expensive garment was worth the splurge and which was a waste of money. Users can also plan outfits. You can share your wardrobe with stylists who will plan the outfits for you (on Indyx, the service ranges from $25 a month to “the low hundreds”). It’s like playing paper dolls with your own wardrobe. 

For Goodman, the former product photographer, all this data takes the place of recreational shopping. She describes getting a marketing email from one of her favorite brands about a sale. After a quick scroll through their offerings, she found that she felt no urge to buy. 

“I was like, ‘I do not need more clothes. I’m going to go update my Indyx, because I’m a couple of weeks behind,’” she said. She started inputting the last few outfits she’d worn into one of the Indyx services that is supposed to allow users to track their patterns and see which clothes they actually wear and what they like in an outfit. “I’m playing with clothes,” she said. “But, like, I’m not shopping. I’m, you know, building.”

Over time, all this data is supposed to inform future shopping choices. “There is something very clear about seeing two pieces that you’ve owned for the same amount of time — one that you’ve worn 57 times and one that you’ve worn twice,” said Alexandra, a 29-year-old consultant in Northern Virginia who requested her last name be withheld. She thinks tracking her clothes has given her “a little bit less buyer’s remorse.”

Cataloging your wardrobe can’t prevent a compulsive need to buy, though.

“I don’t think it cured me of my undiagnosed shopping addiction,” Alexandra said. “You can very quickly go from ‘I’m cataloging what I have’ to ‘I’m seeing a bunch of gaps in my wardrobe that I should fill immediately.’” 

“There just wasn’t incentive anymore”

The main question I had about these apps was whether, with such a labor-intensive process, there comes a time when the juice is no longer worth the squeeze. 

Alexandra says that she gradually stopped using her wardrobe app last year, after she moved out of her own apartment and back into her family’s suburban house in the midst of a career transition. 

“I was separated from a lot of my belongings for a very long time, and then, as I started to get things back, it didn’t feel worth the effort anymore,” she said. Who was she going to see in one of her curated outfits? “My job’s on a computer. When I leave the house, I go to the grocery store and the pharmacy and the bookstore,” she said. “There just wasn’t incentive anymore, compared to when I was closer to the city and doing things more regularly.”

Beltempo, the slow fashion content creator, said she doesn’t bother to add every new purchase to her own catalog. 

“I really use it more for my packing,” she said. Before she travels, she makes a list of likely candidates for her suitcase and enters them into the app. “And then, I’ll play, and I’ll make outfits,” she says. 

Vladimirova, the sustainable consumption researcher struggling with overshopping, gave the apps a spin. She tried three of them and found that she was only able to stick with each one for a matter of months. “In the beginning, when the novelty of the app is there, it’s very satisfying,” she said. “It records your outfits in vivid colors. It can crop out the ugly background and keep it very neat, create fancy capsules. They look so lovely.”

But over time, they all began to bore her. “And now, I forget to update when I buy something new — usually from secondhand sources — and it kind of lost its meaning for me,” she said. “But the premise is good!” 

My own experience seems to be closest to Vladimirova’s. I keep having to remind myself to enter my outfits into Indyx. Every time I put on a piece of clothing, I think with dread, “Oh god, if I don’t look up how much I paid for this, I’ll never know my cost per wear and, then, what’s the point?” I keep giving my shoes guilty looks and thinking about how I should really photograph and catalog them — if I’m doing this right. 

“It’s a project,” said Lauren Ludwig, a 41-year-old who has been using her wardrobe apps for the past three years. “But it’s a fun one for someone who enjoys clothing.”

Indyx and its brethren are slick, and their infographics are beautiful. For dedicated wardrobe hobbyists, they’re probably a great option. But for most people who just want to cut down on their clothes shopping, it’s hard to say that the $75 annual subscription is worth it. The free version will give you the same paper doll effect if you are willing to do your own flat lays, or you can recreate it by dragging phone camera pictures of your clothes onto a Google Slides deck. 

If you find, as Vladimirova theorized, that you shop when you don’t feel good, you can try replacing that habit with a “dopamine menu” of small acts that bring you joy, like hugging a pet, doing a puzzle, or going for a walk. And if your closet is filled with brand new clothes you never wear, you’re racking up debt buying clothes, or you just have the nagging sense that your shopping has spiraled completely out of control, therapy is not a bad idea. 

Personally, I found that Indyx could not give me what I really crave when I want to play with clothes: the understanding of the way fabric drapes against my body, the knowledge of its texture against my skin. There is no substitution for the slow analog process of walking into my closet, touching my clothes with my human hands, and learning with my five senses that what I have is already enough.

PARIS — Is France ready for a crisis that plunges it into darkness? The French government is planning to find out.

The government is looking to organize a tabletop simulation of a sudden, nationwide power outage in the second half of 2027, according to four people with direct knowledge of the exercise, who were granted anonymity to discuss plans that have not been publicly announced.

The exercise will involve the French electricity grid operators Enedis and RTE as well as several government departments and ministries and the French military administration. 

Its purpose will be to determine how the country would respond to a paralyzing electricity outage of the kind that hit Spain and Portugal in April 2025, or a major cyberattack targeting the power grid as Poland experienced last year — an act of sabotage Brussels has attributed to Russian intelligence services.

The simulation will test “the country’s ability to respond,” said one person familiar with preparations for the exercise, adding that it is intended to assess the time needed to restore power and the country’s ability to ensure the continuity of essential services.

The exercise was formally confirmed during an interministerial committee on national resilience on July 8. A detailed announcement should come before the end of the year.

The meeting notes outline other priorities, such as making sure the French state maintains access to goods considered “essential to ensuring the continuity of the state and the protection of the population.”

These include “emergency blankets, generators, medicines, telecommunications equipment, equipment for law enforcement, as well as rare and critical raw materials.”

Stress test

Crisis preparedness has turned into a political issue in France as record-breaking heat and wildfires are forcing the country to reckon with its ability to respond to emergencies. 

Last summer, the government updated the country’s National Resilience Strategy, a roadmap on how to “maintain the functions essential to collective life” in the face of war or natural disasters. 

Since the start of the summer, many French regions have faced unprecedented temperatures, with mercury levels setting multiple records in June. 

In the country’s southwest, out-of-control wildfires fueled by extreme heat and drought forced mass evacuations that affected more than 200,000 people.

In Paris, the mayor made a desperate plea to large-scale food retailers to mobilize ice stocks over fears that first responders would run out of much-needed cubes to cool down victims of heatstroke.

Opposition parties were quick to attack the government over what they described as a widespread lack of preparedness, forcing the executive to defend itself.

French Prime Minister Sébastien Lecornu also announced that the government would submit a bill to parliament to improve emergency response systems.

“We want to refocus fire and rescue services on their core mission and adapt our organization to the crises that lie ahead,” said Lecornu Sunday in an interview with La Tribune Dimanche.

President Donald Trump on Thursday announced tariffs on polysilicon and its related products, in his administration’s latest attempt to eliminate China’s choke points in the global supply chain for solar panels and semiconductors.

But Trump’s directive won’t take effect until Dec. 4 — well after November’s midterm elections and a planned September summit between Trump and Chinese leader Xi Jinping — as the administration grapples with voters complaining of high prices and fragile trade negotiations with China.

“This will bring the supply chain here,” Commerce Secretary Howard Lutnick said of the order on Thursday alongside Trump at the White House. “We’ve got the industry here, it’s too small, and it’s going to explode.”

Because polysilicon is used in semiconductors and solar panels, it’s essential for military hardware and everyday electronics like cell phones and laptops, in addition to the world’s fastest-growing energy source.

The order imposes a 15 percent tariff on imported polysilicon and its derivatives, as well as minimum prices for imports of polysilicon, polysilicon ingots and wafers, solar cells and solar modules.

It also includes a clause intended to prevent companies from stockpiling those materials between now and December, authorizing Customs and Border Protection to restrict imports if it suspects an importer is attempting to dodge the higher duties.

Trump’s order is the result of a Commerce Department investigation launched last July into national security risks in the polysilicon supply chain, as part of a broader effort to shift supply chains away from China for multiple industries including wind turbines and robotics.

China has a near-monopoly on the production of polysilicon, according to S&P Global. But recent U.S. efforts to limit key areas of trade with China have already drawn a backlash from Beijing, which earlier this week implemented new controls on drone exports to the U.S.

The White House emphasized the order’s impact on domestic semiconductor production, a key focus as the U.S. looks to build out infrastructure related to artificial intelligence. Trump said the U.S. will “have a big percentage of the chip business by the time I leave office.”

But Thursday’s order may have a big impact on the solar industry, according to Jon Toomey, president of the pro-tariff Coalition for a Prosperous America organization.

“This proclamation delivers the most significant global trade protection action for the American polysilicon and solar industry in the modern era,” Toomey said in a statement. “For the first time, the United States is protecting the entire solar supply chain with a single action — and rewarding the manufacturers that build here — while taking a significant step to bolster the domestic semiconductor supply chain.”

Negotiations between Iran and Oman on delineating a shipping route through the Strait of Hormuz have reached the final stage, the Iranian Foreign Ministry confirmed on Wednesday.

The shipping lane would primarily lie within Iranian territorial waters, with parts extending into Omani waters.

Foreign Ministry spokesperson Esmaeil Baqaei told journalists that “the geographical coordinates of the proposed maritime route have been agreed upon by both sides,” adding that the bilateral process was “professional” and “forward-moving.”

U.S. President Donald Trump announced last weekend that Tehran had asked Washington to hold off any attack on Iran due to the pending agreement on the strait. “This would include the Immediate, Complete, and Total OPENING OF THE HORMUZ STRAIT, and an end to Iran’s nuclear threat,” Trump wrote on Truth Social.

The U.S. reimposed a naval blockade on Iranian ports on July 14 after hostilities between the two countries resumed. The blockade has since become one of the main sticking points in ceasefire negotiations, with Tehran insisting it must be lifted as part of any broader agreement.

The strait remains closed as a result of the military strikes launched by the U.S. and Israel, Baqaei maintained in his remarks.

Italy will use extra leeway from the EU to spend billions of euros on energy and defense, Finance Minister Giancarlo Giorgetti told members of the country’s parliament on Wednesday.

Rome is set to boost its expenditure on green energy and defense over the coming three years, said Giorgetti following a relaxation of rules from Brussels, which allows the additional spending to be exempted from the EU’s strict spending targets and waived from Rome’s deficit figures.

Italy is poised to issue a formal request to the European Commission — laying out the investments it intends to undertake with the extra flexibility — by a mid-August deadline.

Giorgetti said Italy will request to spend an additional 0.6 percent of gross domestic product on green energy investments and 0.9 percent on defense — the full amount that is envisaged under the new fiscal guidelines.

The additional defense spending will “include both new multi-year investment programs and proposals to reallocate resources already provided for under current legislation,” Giorgetti told MPs. Italy’s parliament is expected to approve Giorgetti’s request to the Commission on Wednesday.

The extra flexibility is aimed at reducing dependence on fossil fuels and moving toward NATO’s target to spend 5 percent of GDP on defense. With 2 percent of GDP allocated to defense in 2025, Italy is among the alliance’s spending laggards.

However, the decision to raise military spending is set to inflame political tensions within the country ahead of a crucial election year that will see incumbent Prime Minister Giorgia Meloni seek a second mandate.

The governing coalition is split on the issue, and the right-wing League party — from which Giorgetti himself hails — has repeatedly campaigned against spending more money to counter the Russian threat.

In a further constraint, the government is under heavy pressure from the right-wing, Russia-friendly National Future party led by former Gen. Roberto Vannacci, which is eating into support for the other governing parties, according to the polls.  

More leeway

In June, the Commission gave EU countries suffering from the ongoing energy crisis more fiscal breathing room by exempting some green investments from public spending rules.

The goal was to allow heavily indebted governments to mobilize resources for green expenditure, including subsidies for electric vehicles, geothermal and solar energy to reduce dependence on fossil fuels. Italy lobbied the EU to offer this concession after the war in the Middle East fueled a surge in oil prices.

However, Giorgetti failed to lay out which green investments will be included in Italy’s request to the Commission.

In another gaping omission, he did not reveal whether Italy will tap into the EU’s cheap loans for defense — another divisive issue within the government coalition.

Rome had initially earmarked €15 billion under the Security Action for Europe (SAFE) program, prompting defense companies to factor in those investments.

Italian Foreign Minister Antonio Tajani recently suggested that Rome will use the SAFE money, but said the exact amount will be decided later in the year.

Jacopo Barigazzi contributed to this report.

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 Spokane, Washington wildfires have destroyed at least 700 buildings and forced 65,000 people from their homes — and with high winds forecast for later this week, the crisis probably isn’t over. 

As of Tuesday afternoon, three separate blazes were still burning uncontained to the north and west of the city center, according to a data clearinghouse managed by the US Forest Service. And heavy smoke from the blazes continued to spill across Washington, Idaho, and Oregon. 

Meanwhile, investigators appear to have made progress in determining the cause of the largest fire: On Tuesday, local sheriff’s deputies arrested a 37-year-old Arizona man on charges of first-degree arson. The vast majority of US wildfires are started by humans…but typically through carelessness or by accident.

Go a little deeper

I was struck by an observation that one longtime Spokane resident made to NPR this week: “Obviously, we’ve had wildfire seasons,” she said. But she “never, ever imagined” having to evacuate, because she lived so deep inside of the city. 

Living in a city is no protection from climate change, though. And the destruction caused by wildfires in cities and suburbs is very much on the rise. Consider the devastation caused by recent fires in Colorado (2021), Hawaii (2023), and Los Angeles (2025). 

Why are wildfires causing more damage in cities and suburbs? It’s not because they’re new. One recent study found urban wildfires have remained a fairly stable share of all US fires over the past generation. 

What has changed is the scale of their damage, thanks to factors like climate-driven increases in extreme fire weather and human incursion into forests and grasslands. As a country, we are increasingly building homes and other structures in the “wildland-urban interface” — a liminal zone where neighborhoods and nature overlap. 

While housing isn’t dense in these areas, the buildings that exist can serve as tinder that helps fires spread. And putting more people, roads, and power lines into these zones creates more opportunities for ignitions.

All this means that city-dwellers and suburbanites will likely face more wildfire risk in years to come. And for those of you in the Midwest or on the East Coast, like me, don’t assume that wildfires are someone else’s problem. “Every single state” with wildland-urban interfaces also holds the potential for fire disaster, one pyrogeographer told Vox in 2023. That includes communities like Spokane, sure — but also Florida, Minnesota, and Mississippi.

One link for later

➨ Go ahead, save that tiny glass jar! It’s apparently a bona fide pop culture craze. But don’t bother doing it for the environmental benefits: One policy professor (disappointingly!) tells Vox that consumer decisions like choosing glass over plastic “do not matter in a meaningful way.”

Before you go…

• Did you know…that there’s a special branch of medical science devoted to the physiology of space travel? It’s appropriately called “space medicine.” (Alas, practitioners aren’t called Space Doctors.) 
• Today’s trivia: How many US states have legalized marijuana? (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 name of the Pennsylvania-based singer/songwriter who’s sometimes called the godmother of punk. That would be Joan Jett, who shares the contested honorific with (New Jersey-born) Patti Smith and (German-born) Nina Hagen. 

On June 11, the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration issued an El Niño advisory after temperatures in the equatorial Pacific Ocean remained higher than average for several months. Declaring an El Niño isn’t out of the ordinary, as they happen in cycles every two to seven years. But this one could be extraordinary.

Some are calling it a “super” or “Godzilla” El Niño, and the NOAA predicts an 81 percent chance that it could develop to a “very strong” level, rivaling the historic and devastating El Niños of 1982-1983 and 1997-1998. Experts are predicting it will likely reach its peak this winter and into 2027, bringing heat, rainfall, and other potential extreme weather events.

But even with that foresight and climate models that can confidently predict what might be in store, we still face a test of what could potentially be the strongest El Niño ever recorded and the wild weather that comes with it. We spoke with atmospheric scientists and meteorologists to find out how a super El Niño forms, why it changes global climate, and what we should expect in the coming months.

Read more about El Niño:

• The latest from NOAA about this El Niño: https://www.noaa.gov/topic-tags/el-nino-la-nina-enso 
• Vox podcast The Gray Area covers the possibility of a “Godzilla El Niño”: https://www.vox.com/podcasts/495653/el-nino-climate-change-global-warming-david-wallace-wells
• NOAA’s Climate Prediction Center: https://www.cpc.ncep.noaa.gov/
• World Meteorological Organization’s seasonal outlook for El Niño heat and rainfall: https://wmo.int/news/media-centre/el-nino-forecast-intensify-increasing-likelihood-of-extreme-weather 
• The Guardian’s coverage of California’s shark surge: https://www.theguardian.com/environment/2026/jul/14/california-sharks-el-nino
• New York Times article about powerful El Niños of the past: https://www.nytimes.com/2026/05/21/climate/el-nino-history-famine.html

There was a backup plan for getting oil out of the Middle East. We may need another one.

 On July 20, the Iran-backed Yemeni rebel movement known as the Houthis declared a “blockade” against their long-time enemy Saudi Arabia, and a short time later attacked two Saudi oil tankers in the Red Sea. Shortly afterward, several ships carrying Saudi crude oil through the Red Sea made abrupt U-turns to avoid going near the Yemeni coast.  

With Iran now blocking shipping through the Strait of Hormuz, the Red Sea was supposed to be an alternative way to get oil out of the Middle East and to the world market. Now, though, the importance of the route has merely created fresh leverage in the long-simmering conflict between the Houthis and their longtime enemies in Saudi Arabia. These attacks were a major factor in pushing oil back over $100 a barrel last week.  

The Houthis have their own agenda partly unrelated to the Iran conflict. But in launching the Iran conflict, the US has inadvertently given them outsized influence in the region: The sea lane they control is more important than ever. Now, in opening up a new front, they may have just made the war harder to end. 

The Red Sea has become increasingly important to Saudi Arabia and energy markets as shippers have avoided Hormuz in recent months. Saudi Arabia has diverted around 70 percent of its oil exports via a pipeline connecting the oil fields on the Persian Gulf to the port of Yanbu on its Red Sea coast. This means that tankers need to use the Red Sea to get oil to Asia. As a result, the Red Sea now accounts for around 7 percent of the world’s energy supplies. 

This release valve is one reason why the price of oil — and the price of gas for American drivers — has not risen as much as many experts expected when the Hormuz crisis began shortly after the US-Israel strikes on Iran. 

But now, that release valve is also under threat, putting the region and the world in what shipping experts call a “double chokehold.”

The Houthis have used their location to cause chaos before: In 2023 and 2024, they attacked over 100 ships they accused of links to Israel, and dramatically drove down shipping through the Red Sea. Those attacks stopped after the Israel-Hamas ceasefire last year, but shipping has still not fully recovered. 

President Donald Trump has threatened both the Houthis and Iran with “major military punishment” over the attacks in recent days. And the attacks also make it likelier that the conflict in Iran could make oil pricier than ever, increasing political pressure on Trump. 

What do the Houthis want? 

The Houthis are a member of Iran’s network of regional proxies, known as the “Axis of Resistance,” along with Hezbollah, Hamas, and a number of Iraqi militias. But most experts believe that while they rely on Iranian support, they operate independently and don’t take their marching orders from Tehran. 

Officially known as Ansar Allah, the Houthis are members of the minority Zaydi sect of Shia Islam. They’ve been fighting for control of Yemen since the 1990s and took over Yemen’s capital city, Sanaa, in 2014, though most countries do not recognize them as Yemen’s legitimate government. 

The Houthis fought a brutal decade-long war against Yemen’s internationally recognized government and an international coalition led by Saudi Arabia, which ended with a UN-mediated ceasefire in 2022. 

The Saudi-Houthi peace has largely held since then, even as the Houthis gained global notoriety during the Gaza war. When this year’s war began, many expected the Houthis to join the fight against Iran’s enemies, the United States and Israel, but for the first few weeks of the conflict, they were conspicuously quiet. Their impact was felt in a different way, though. 

Iran’s success in using cheap drones and missiles to effectively shut down the Strait of Hormuz almost certainly drew on lessons gained from the Houthi campaign in the Red Sea in 2023 and 2024.

In March, the Houthis made their first move toward actively joining the Iran war when they launched a round of missiles at Israel. But things really escalated in mid-July when they began launching attacks on Saudi Arabia in response to an attack on the Sanaa airport, which they blamed on the Saudis. (The initial attack was claimed by Yemen’s internationally-backed government.)

In addition to the Red Sea attacks, the Houthis also claimed an attack on a Saudi oil refinery last Saturday, the group’s first attack on Saudi energy infrastructure since 2022, followed by attacks on oil depots along the Red Sea coast on Sunday. Several Iran-backed militias in Iraq also carried out their own attacks on Saudi Arabia over the past few days. 

The Houthis have now entered the conflict, but it would be a mistake to view them just as Iranian proxies. They have their own demands and agenda in this fight. 

“When the whole Iran war started, they were kind of observing and waiting for the right moment,” said Mohammed al-Basha, a US-based security analyst and Yemen expert. Basha suspects that the Houthis saw the leverage and concessions Iran had gained throughout the region and wanted to exert some leverage of their own. “Their aggressiveness went from zero to 60 last week,” he said. “They’re all in.”

All in for what, exactly? The Houthis’ demands from the Saudis include billions in reparations payments and full control of their coastline and airspace. In the long term, they aim to be Yemen’s internationally recognized government. 

The Saudis, then, who fought a brutal and unpopular war against the Houthis that ended in a stalemate, are faced with the unappealing choice between placating the group by agreeing to its demands or a return to war. 

What about the US? The US carried out more than 1,000 airstrikes over 52 days against the Houthis in 2025. While this campaign, known as Operation Rough Rider, caused significant damage to the group’s infrastructure, it did not succeed in fully restoring shipping in the Red Sea. 

Trump has threatened retaliation, but given concerns over munitions stockpiles, the US capacity to retaliate, much less expand this war to a new front, is probably limited.

How many chokeholds is too many?

For the moment, the Bab el-Mandeb is not completely closed — shipping is down around 22 percent since the blockade was declared, but 28 ships were able to transit the strait on Monday. The Houthis maintain that their blockade targets only Saudi Arabia, but Chinese supertankers have been allowed to leave the Red Sea carrying Saudi oil.  

But shippers recall that during the Houthis’ last Red Sea campaign in 2024, they were theoretically only targeting ships linked to Israel, but had a pretty broad definition of “linked to Israel.”  Under these circumstances, many shippers, and more importantly their insurers, might not want to take the risk. 

“We’ve seen what the Houthis can do,” said Noam Raydan, an expert on energy and maritime shipping at the Washington Institute for Near East Policy. “We know that they can sink ships. We know that they can hit a ship with drones, missiles, and then even board the ship. We know that they can hijack a vessel. This is why a lot of operators, in my opinion, would really be hesitant right now to go through the Bab al-Mandab.” 

There’s also still the risk that this new front in the war could escalate. Iran’s government has asked the Houthis to shut the Bab el-Mandeb entirely if the US launches airstrikes against Iran’s power network, which Trump has repeatedly threatened to do.

This adds a new complicating factor to the larger conflict in the Middle East. The fact that the price of oil never rose as high as many experts had predicted during Operation Epic Fury, the initial strikes in the spring and early summer, is probably one reason why Trump has often seemed willing to continue the conflict, rather than cutting a quick deal on Iran’s terms. But Saudi Arabia’s access to the Red Sea is one important reason why oil has not reached $120 or even $200 a barrel. A full closure of the Bab el-Mandeb would test even the ever-adaptable global oil industry’s ability to adapt.

It’s possible the Saudis may still be able to cut a deal with the Houthis that ends the attacks. But it’s also clear that for the foreseeable future, two of the Middle East’s most important energy chokepoints are going to be under continual threat of closure by adversaries of the United States. 

For now, oil can still leave the Red Sea via the Suez Canal at its northern end, then head toward Asia around the southern tip of Africa. (Since the largest tankers aren’t able to transit the Suez while fully loaded, this is a complicated process that involves them pumping their oil into a pipeline, then meeting it at the other end in the Mediterranean.) 

“It just gets harder and harder,” said Robin Mills, CEO of the Dubai-based energy analysis firm Qamar Energy. “Can they get all of the oil from Yanbu out through the Suez? I think they probably can but it’s a little bit tight. If [the Houthi campaign] were to expand, it becomes more of a problem.” 

The Suez Canal itself is also a potential target for disruption or sabotage, retired US Adm. James Stavridis recently warned. 

The disruptions at sea will increase interest in workaround projects such as a proposed pipeline from Iraq to Turkey, bypassing sea routes entirely, but these are still a long way off. The Houthis and their allies in Iraq also demonstrated this week that they can attack oil infrastructure and pipelines in addition to ships. 

The oil and shipping industries are nothing if not adaptable. Previous disruptions, whether the tanker that ran aground in Suez in 2021, the container ship pileups caused by the Covid-19 pandemic, or the Houthis’ previous Red Sea campaign, have been temporary. Goods eventually find their way to market, even if that means another month sailing around Africa.

But as the number of armed conflicts grow, and actors like the Houthis and Iran learn how to effectively weaponize the global economy’s chokepoints to punish much larger and more powerful adversaries, the stresses on the system are growing, and the question becomes whether there’s a breaking point.   

This story appeared in Today, Explained, a daily newsletter that helps you understand the most compelling news and stories of the day. Subscribe here.
An underappreciated surreality of climate change is the incredible sense of déjà vu: Every heat wave seems to be the new worst; every hurricane season seems to break records. 

The wildfires sweeping France and Spain this week are the latest entries in that grim catalog. They are the largest blazes either country has faced in modern history — and they could worsen as temperatures spike above 100 degrees later this week.

Already, France has evacuated more than 250,000 people from their homes in the southwest, outside Bordeaux. Spain, meanwhile, ordered some 100,000 residents to relocate as fires swept rural and wooded areas to the west of Madrid. 

Both countries have experience with wildfires. What’s new, however, is the scale of the fires: Wildfire season is lasting longer across Europe, and the blazes are burning larger areas. Climate scientists say that a series of record heat waves this summer — there’s that apocalypse déjà vu again! — helped make this year’s wildfire season particularly brutal in Spain and France.

Dry hot European summer

Every continent on Earth is getting warmer. But Europe is riding the express bus. The region has seen its average temperatures rise twice as quickly as the global average over the past 30 years, according to the European Union’s Earth Observation Programme. 

This dubious honor begs a question, however: Why does “global warming” vary between regions if it is, ya know…global? 

The answer relates to local geography and weather patterns. In broad strokes, the same climate story is playing out everywhere: When humans burn fossil fuels, they release carbon dioxide and other greenhouse gases into the atmosphere. Those gases make it harder for heat to escape into space.

But some places warm faster than others. Land heats up more quickly than oceans, for instance — so coastal waters can provide a bit of insulation. 

Local weather patterns matter, too. One reason Europe has been hit especially hard is that air currents have increasingly allowed hot air to stall over the continent, fueling intense heat waves like the ones we’ve seen this summer. 

Ironically, another major reason for Europe’s rapid warming springs from an environmental victory: In the 1980s, European countries cracked down on sulfur pollution from coal plants and factories. That pollution had been reflecting sunlight back into space and slightly cooling the continent. But as the pollution disappeared, more sunlight reached the ground — and revealed the warming that pollution had previously masked. 

One link for later

➨ It is possible to wear Meta’s “pervert glasses” in a non-creepy way. Namely, and respectfully: by oneself. The polarizing $300 smartglasses come equipped with dual cameras, multiple microphones, and a whole lot of well-deserved cultural baggage. 

Before you go…

• Did you know…that, in the US, the age-adjusted death rate from cardiovascular disease has fallen by three-quarters since 1950? It’s one of several pretty incredible signs that modern medicine is trouncing heart disease.
• Today’s trivia: What is the name of the Dutch cheese typically coated in red wax? (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 singer of the 1988 song “Orinoco Flow.” That would be Enya, the reclusive New Age artist who became one of Ireland’s wealthiest and most successful musicians without ever going on tour. 

Ticks are taking over the United States. Due to climate change, changing land use, and an explosion in the deer population, ticks have been expanding their territory and infecting more people than ever. They carry pathogens that cause everything from Lyme disease to the red meat allergy-inducing Alpha gal syndrome. In some cases, tick bites can be fatal.

Ticks usually lurk in the tall grass in wooded areas. That means going on a hike or even just hanging out in your backyard or a park can expose you to a tick bite. In many parts, of the country fear of ticks is changing how people live their lives, including the way they dress, how they enjoy their hobbies, or even whether they spend much outdoors at all. 

The tick surge is catching public health officials off guard. Emergency room visits due to tick bites are the highest they’ve been since 2017. In spite of the uptick, most public health departments still focus on lowering the population of mosquitos in their areas over ticks. 

Climate reporter Jonthan Mingle says we can fix this problem. As Mingle explained in a recent New York Times op-ed, encouraging the public to do tick checks and use bug spray is a part of the solution, but we’re leaving a bunch of larger interventions on the table. Mingle joined Today, Explained co-host Sean Rameswaram to explain why ticks are expanding their range and what we can do about it. 

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 your podcasts, including Apple Podcasts, Pandora, and Spotify.

We covered Lyme disease and tick bites on this show back in 2018 because the tick situation was getting out of hand. How much more out of hand has it become since then?

You know some experts I talked to used the word exponential. So what’s happening is that some of these tick species are spreading into areas where people aren’t familiar with them, doctors aren’t familiar with them. Thanks to warmer winters, ticks are expanding their hunting season. You may have a day that’s like 40 degrees in January, ticks are out looking for you, waiting for you to walk by and grab on and grab a meal. 

In 2024, a pilot named Brian Weitzel, father of three in northern New Jersey, had a hamburger, at a barbecue, went home to mow his lawn, and a few hours later was unresponsive on the floor and he died that night. His family was left in shock, of course, trying to figure out why he had died. And it turned out that he had likely been bitten by the lone star tick and had developed an allergy to red meat. This is referred to as Alpha-gal syndrome, which is just the latest entrant into the files of all the many ways in which tick bites can make us sick. The most familiar one, of course, is Lyme disease. Each year, about half a million people are treated for Lyme disease. It’s the fastest growing vector-borne disease in the US. Cases have more than doubled over the past decade, and those cases are mostly as a result of getting bitten by the black-legged tick or the deer tick. The thing is both of these ticks — and many other ticks that are also marching northward and westward and expanding their empires rapidly across North America — they can deliver all kinds of pathogens.

They’re claiming more and more of the map, and they’re claiming more and more of our psychic map right? I tell people I’m not a tick expert, although I’ve talked to a bunch of them, but I’ve become a tick expert in the sense that I am very familiar with tick paranoia and how it can keep you from venturing out into the places you love: hiking paths or picnic grounds or parks. And so that was part of the story I wanted to write about, too — Why are we letting the ticks keep us, if not out of these places that we need and love, why aren’t we fighting back?

And why is it? Are we not fighting back against the ticks?

Not really. I mean, this is one of the surprising takeaways from my reporting is that we’re barely even trying. One way of understanding that is to think about two numbers. One number is 90 percent. 90 percent of vector-borne disease cases in the US are from ticks.

90 percent?

Yeah. And yet despite the fact that 90 percent of cases of vector-borne illness come from tick bites, if you look at what local city, county health agencies do in terms of vector control, 80 percent of what they do is mosquito control, and only about 10 or 11 percent of these local health agencies around the country do any kind of tick control. So why is that? It’s a familiar story in the public health world. It’s not enough funding or policy support for trying out, testing, deploying new approaches to controlling ticks.

Even though people are dying?

We’re just kind of taking for granted that, ‘Oh, well, what can you do? You just tuck your pants in and spray some insecticide on your boots and that’s all you can do.’ It’s like, well, actually we have a long history of going to war with mosquitoes. Before there was tick control, there was mosquito control. The CDC was founded with the sole mandate in 1946 of wiping out malaria and fighting mosquitoes. 

It feels like they lost that fight because in my neighborhood you can’t go out between the hours of seven and nine o’clock.

The mosquitoes haven’t gone away, but malaria did for the most part. You know, in talking to experts today, including folks at the CDC, they told me that there’s a suite of tools we could be using if we wanted to get serious about fighting ticks. As one veteran tick expert at the CDC told me, if you want to make a dent in this problem, you have to get to the deer. The deer are the engine driving a lot of these tick species spreading, and we just have way more deer than we did decades ago, especially in the eastern US and suburban parts of America. So how do you get to the deer? I had people in the comments section of my piece saying the clear answer is just we should all be hunting deer. But in talking to the experts, they’ll tell you it’s not really a feasible solution. You would have to knock deer populations way down to make a dent in the tick populations. 

What is more promising is a combined approach of stuff like vaccines. There are people developing vaccines that you could deliver to deer or to rodents, which are another important host for these ticks so that when the tick bites them, they’ll die. That, I learned from talking to folks who do this kind of research for a living, is a more promising avenue for controlling ticks than all of us picking up crossbows and becoming deer hunters.

So why is it that we’re not doing anything?

What I heard from experts is that we’re not even funding this research in a serious way. We do this stuff for mosquitoes. People don’t realize it, but your local county health agency, they go out and they find where the mosquito breeding grounds are and stagnant pools the water and they treat it. It takes this sustained quiet effort. 

We saw the consequences of not doing that recently. This is a bit tangential, but screwworm. Screwworm was this flesh eating larval pest that devastates cattle herds that it was eradicated in the US in 1966, and it was kept at bay by the vigilance of people at USDA and USAID who ran these programs to release millions of sterile screwworm males out of airplanes. It created this wall that kept the screwworm from coming into the southern US. And probably if we stopped doing the mosquito control at a local scale, we’d see more cases of dengue fever, West Nile virus, and all these other rare but serious illnesses that climate change is making more of a threat here in the US.

Could you just practically help people understand how they can protect themselves in the absence of, I don’t know, a functional government?

Doing tick checks. And we do it in my household pretty much daily when you come home, do a thorough tick check, throw your clothes in the dryer. Ticks hate heat. And some people like to use permethrin spray, which is this insecticide that’s designed to kill ticks on your boots or your pants when you go out for a hike. Researchers have known these things are really effective if you keep doing them, if you stay vigilant. And all it takes is that one time, that one time you go out for a hike and you come back and you forget to do the tick check. 

So we need those kinds of personal measures of vigilance and protection, but we still need to kind of push for a bigger public health response to this. The ticks are going to keep spreading into the calendar, too, in the sense that as winters get warmer, more and more days of the year when you’re outdoors, you’re going to encounter ticks who are hungry, and they’re looking for you. 

The Trump administration may have just signed an agreement so controversial that President Donald Trump himself is opposed to it. 

On Wednesday, the US and Saudi Arabia signed a 30-year, multibillion-dollar nuclear energy cooperation agreement. The terms of the deal signed by Secretary of Energy Chris Wright and his Saudi counterpart have not been released, but some of the details discussed by officials in reporting by the Wall Street Journal and New York Times earlier this week raised eyebrows, mainly the fact that in addition to helping the Saudis construct nuclear reactors, the US could potentially help the Saudis construct facilities to enrich their own uranium.

The timing is particularly awkward with the US currently at war with Saudi Arabia’s rival Iran, in large part due to concerns about that country’s nuclear enrichment program. 

It is also happening in the context of an emerging new nuclear world, where last century’s arms control agreements are falling by the wayside, regimes like Russia are increasingly employing nuclear threats, and longtime US allies are increasingly nuclear-curious due to both growing military threats and skepticism about the value of American security guarantees. It could raise the risk that other countries will seek the capability to raise the bomb, even if they don’t immediately build one. 

“It’s unprecedented in the history of US nuclear policy,” said Matthew Kroenig, senior fellow at the Atlantic Council and author of the book, Exporting the Bomb. “Never before have we helped another country build a uranium enrichment facility. All the way back to Eisenhower, the deal has been: If you want nuclear energy, terrific. We’re happy to help you, but you can’t make the fuel because once you make the fuel, it’s too dangerous.”

Whether the deal will even happen is getting less clear. The agreement was already going to face significant opposition in Congress, where it must be sent for review, but Trump added to the confusion on Thursday morning with a Truth Social post that contradicted much of what had been reported the day before. Trump wrote that there would be “no enrichment of material” under the deal and that the agreement is “totally subject to Saudi Arabia joining the very respected and successful Abraham Accords,” referring to the series of diplomatic normalization agreements between Israel and a number of Muslim countries signed during Trump’s first term. This was not reported in any of the media accounts earlier in the week, which were based on statements from US officials. 

The Saudi government has not yet responded to Trump’s latest statement, but sources close to the talks have indicated that no such pledge was included in the negotiations. 

Saudi Arabia has long insisted that it will not normalize relations with Israel until the creation of a Palestinian state, and if they had caved on that position prior to the agreement, it seems unlikely that no one would have mentioned it before today. At a press briefing on Thursday, White House spokesperson Karoline Leavitt affirmed that the deal would be “off” unless Saudi Arabia joined the Abraham Accords. Asked for clarification on the discrepancy between Wednesday’s reporting and Trump’s announcement on Thursday, the White House press office referred Vox to Leavitt’s statement. 

At the moment, there’s more confusion than clarity around the deal, and what it means for the future of both the Middle East and global efforts to control nuclear weapons. 

What’s standing between Saudi Arabia and a nuke?

This idea behind the Saudi deal isn’t new: Both the first Trump administration and the Biden administration pursued a civilian nuclear deal with the kingdom. It’s been a controversial notion for just as long, given Saudi Arabia’s often aggressive foreign policy, human rights record — including the high-profile murder of US citizens — and the fact that Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman has said in the past that his country would seek to build its own nuclear bomb if Iran ever acquired one. 

Saudi Arabia insists that its interest in nuclear energy is purely peaceful — part of a larger goal to diversify its economy away from oil and gas and to generate power for a nascent artificial intelligence industry. Proponents in the US argue that a deal would deepen ties between the US and an important security partner. It would also, they argue, head off the risk of Saudi Arabia cooperating instead with China or Russia to build a nuclear program and be a potential windfall for the US nuclear power industry. 

The US has previously entered into 29 nuclear cooperation agreements — commonly known as “123 deals” for Section 123, the legislation that governs them — involving 49 countries. The deals require countries to submit to a number of safeguards to prevent them from weaponizing these nuclear programs, including requiring US consent for any enrichment of uranium for the US-built nuclear plants. 

In more recent US deals, most countries have agreed to give the International Atomic Energy Agency even more stringent inspection authorities. Some have gone further: Under the deal signed with the United Arab Emirates in 2009 and Taiwan in 2013, the countries agreed to forswear any enrichment of uranium on their soil, including for projects in which the United States is not involved. This has been called the “gold standard” for nuclear sharing deals, and it’s what the US pushed for in previous nuclear sharing negotiations with Saudi Arabia. 

The Saudis have long balked at some of the stricter provisions in some more recent US deals, such as additional IAEA inspections and a pledge to enrich no uranium at all. The kingdom has argued these are intrusive infringements on its sovereignty, particularly given that Iran was allowed to continue enriching under previous agreements with the US. But, Kroenig said, there’s little plausible reason to oppose these restrictions if Saudi Arabia is only interested in civilian energy.

“They probably haven’t decided to build nuclear weapons yet, but it seems like they want the option,” Kroenig said.

Saudi Arabia is not going to build a bomb overnight. It’s not even going to start enriching uranium for some time. Under the deal — at least the version that was reported earlier this week by the Wall Street Journal — US companies would immediately begin work on building nuclear power plants when the deal goes into force, while US and Saudi officials would conduct a two-year study to determine “value of enrichment for Saudi Arabia.” (This, notably, would likely be concluded during Trump’s term.)

In this respect, the deal may in fact be tougher than the never-concluded Biden agreement, which reportedly would have allowed enrichment to begin immediately. 

If the study concludes Saudi Arabia needs to enrich, the enrichment facility would be constructed in a secretive “black box” to prevent the Saudis from acquiring sensitive technology. If the US objects to Saudi enrichment after the study, the Saudis couldn’t enrich for another 10 years. After that, it’s not clear what happens. 

The safeguards do not mollify many nonproliferation experts. 

“Skeptical is a mild way of putting it,” said James Acton, co-director of the Nuclear Policy Program at the Carnegie Endowment. “Even if you black-box the technology, Saudi Arabia could still nationalize the facility. This is a country that has overtly declared an interest in proliferation. Once it’s on Saudi soil, you have very limited options to stop it from misusing that technology if it decides to do so.”

The most difficult and expensive part of building a nuclear device is uranium enrichment, and the US will have helped Saudi Arabia a long way down that path. That doesn’t mean the kingdom is necessarily planning to build a bomb, but if it decides on that course of action down the road, it will have a significant head start.

“Saudi Arabia’s nuclear program does not pose a near-term proliferation risk,” said Kelsey Davenport, director for nonproliferation policy at the Arms Control Association. Rather than trying to quickly build a bomb, she suggested that “the more likely scenario is that Saudi Arabia will continue to acquire the capabilities that would be necessary to weaponize and move to the threshold of nuclear weapons, which would enable a rapid move to build the deterrent if the decision were made.”

This, she added, would both complicate ongoing nuclear talks with Iran and “set a terrible precedent” for future nuclear agreements. 

What happens now? 

“Look, there are some benefits to the deal,”  said Robert Einhorn, a former State Department special adviser for nonproliferation and arms control. “It will give a boost to the US nuclear industry. It will help cement US-Saudi strategic relations. It will deny Russia and China a foothold in an important element of the Saudi economy. But the Trump administration will have to work hard to convince the Congress and the American public that the shortcomings of the deal are not disqualifying.”

That process starts this week. The agreement will now be submitted to Congress for a 90-day review period. This isn’t a formal treaty that requires approval. Congress has to pass a joint resolution opposing it.

The deal is likely to draw opposition on both sides of the aisle. In 2019, then-Republican Sen. Marco Rubio (FL), now secretary of state, sponsored legislation that would require any 123 agreement with Saudi Arabia to be affirmatively approved by Congress.  (“I miss Sen. Rubio,” Rep. Brad Sherman (D-CA), a co-sponsor of the House version of the bill, said during a hearing on Wednesday.)

In addition to security concerns, the potential conflicts of interest around the bill may also draw scrutiny. Tom Barrack, a close Trump confidante who is now US ambassador to Turkey and an adviser on Middle East policy, was investigated by federal authorities and was the subject of a House probe during Trump’s first term for lobbying for nuclear deals with Saudi Arabia and the UAE while he had significant real estate investments in those countries and ties to the government.  

ProPublica also reported in 2019 that Barrack had sought a major financial stake in Westinghouse, the nuclear reactor builder. The Wall Street Journal wrote that Westinghouse Electric is likely to be one of the main beneficiaries of the deal to build nuclear reactors in the Kingdom.

It still seems unlikely that opponents of the deal in Congress will be able to cobble together a veto-proof majority to block it. The better question is whether Trump is effectively blocking it. If he is really going to insist on Saudi Arabia joining the Abraham Accords, that could be a nonstarter for Mohammed bin Salman. 

A new nuclear world takes shape

Events in recent years have led Saudi leaders to doubt the extent to which the US would really come to their aid in a worst-case scenario. There have been mixed reports about whether Saudi Arabia backed or opposed Trump’s decision to launch this year’s war on Iran — the Saudi government denies supporting it — but either way, if this war ends with Iran’s regime still in place, in possession of its uranium stockpile, and in control of the world’s most critical energy chokepoint, the doubts in Riyadh about America’s reliability will only increase, along with their nuclear ambitions. 

In the coming weeks, the White House will make the case that this deal is safer and more comprehensive than the ones the US would not agree to in the Biden administration and Trump’s first term. But that argument will be harder to make against the notion that Saudi Arabia’s incentive to build a bomb has only grown since then. 

In 2019, the AI researcher Rich Sutton published a short essay called “The Bitter Lesson.” Seventy years of AI research, he argued, kept demonstrating the same thing: The most effective ways to train AI rely on raw, brute-force computing power — simply scaling up — rather than clever approaches built on human insight. It didn’t matter how elegant the researchers’ work was. More compute would win every time. It’s a bitter lesson because, well, no one wants to accept that even the best efforts can go unrewarded.

This summer, climate change has been teaching its own kind of bitter lesson. Last week smoke from out-of-control Canadian wildfires reached more than 120 million Americans, sending out air quality alerts across 18-plus states from Minnesota to Virginia. Those wildfires, which were made more likely by the effects of climate change, followed record-breaking heat waves in Europe that contributed to the deaths of thousands of people.

Disasters like these inevitably renew calls for climate action, but no current US emissions policy, no amount of carbon cutting now, could clear the air, just as nothing Europe has done on climate — and it has done more than any other region, at no small cost — could protect it from those killer temperatures. Not this summer, not this decade, not the one after. The steps countries take now to reduce carbon emissions, to mitigate climate change, will not protect them from the present-day effects of climate change.

That’s the bitter lesson of climate change, and 2026 is the summer it has become unignorable. The dangerous effects we’ve been warned about are here, locked in on every timescale that matters to the people living through them. We can’t prevent the worst from happening right now, so we need to figure out how we’re going to adapt to it. 

The smoke we can’t stop

Canadian wildfire smoke is as close to an unstoppable disaster as exists today. The fires are Canada’s, the ignition is mostly lightning, the fuel is a subcontinent of boreal forest no fire agency can manage, and the whole system sits outside US jurisdiction. While strategies like prescribed burning and forest thinning can help reduce the wildfires that crop up in the western US, the sheer scale of Canadian forests makes such management far more difficult, maybe impossible. There is no timescale on which American mitigation clears American air of Canadian wildfire smoke. 

What this means is that for this wildfire smoke, at this moment, adaptation may be all there is.

American law has already conceded the point. Under the Clean Air Act’s Exceptional Events Rule, a state can petition the Environmental Protection Agency to strike wildfire-smoke days from the record used to judge whether its air is legally clean. In other words, the official response to one of the country’s fastest-growing air-quality threats is to delete it from the ledger. 

It’s true that climate attribution science ties heat waves to warming with the highest confidence of any extreme, while wildfire is messier — a compound event filtered through ignition, fuel, and fire weather. But fire seasons are lengthening, fuels are drying, and the most extreme wildfire events on Earth more than doubled between 2003 and 2023. The pattern is intensifying fire in particular regions — the boreal north among them — and the smoke goes where the wind says.

And that smoke is worse than it looks. Wildfire PM2.5 — the microscopic particles that are particularly dangerous —  is roughly three to four times more toxic to the lungs, per unit of mass, than ordinary urban particulate matter. During major smoke events, pediatric asthma visits can spike by more than 30 percent, and Harvard researchers have found the cardiorespiratory damage persists for months after the sky turns blue again. That’s especially dangerous for vulnerable populations like babies and pregnant women.

We can’t affect the winds, we struggle to stop the fires, and any current attempt to reduce warming enough to make those infernos less likely won’t be felt for years. But that doesn’t mean we’re helpless to protect ourselves from wildfire smoke, any more than we are from extreme heat.

We can purify indoor air, and it costs less than you probably think. Strap four furnace filters to a box fan — creating a Corsi-Rosenthal box — and indoor PM2.5 drops by roughly half; in testing during actual wildfire smoke, a DIY unit cut fine particles by about 56 percent in a large room and close to 99 percent in a small sealed one.

For heat, the toolkit is even better known — and one of the best proofs it works is in, of all places, France. The historic 2003 heat wave killed some 15,000 people there, most of them elderly and alone. The national heat plan built in its aftermath — tiered alerts, registries of vulnerable residents, check-in calls, cool rooms — cut the death toll of comparable heat waves by roughly 90 percent: When France hit its all-time record of 114.8°F in 2019, fewer than 1,500 died, per the Christian Science Monitor. A recent European analysis estimates a rerun of 2003 would now kill 77 percent fewer people in France than in a world that never adapted.

So technologies exist to protect ourselves. What’s too often missing are the standards, money, and the drive to deploy protection before the disaster arrives instead of after.

Catching up to today

When it comes to wildfire smoke, some governments are ahead of the game — and some aren’t. Washington state, Oregon, and California now regulate outdoor workers’ smoke exposure by air-quality index, under rules like Cal/OSHA’s wildfire-smoke standard; California funds “clean air centers” with upgraded filtration where people can shelter on bad-air days; Colorado’s Clean Air for Schools program ships free HEPA units to K-12 classrooms. A purifier humming in a classroom is essentially doing for smoke what a cooling center does for heat.

When it comes to heat, some parts of Europe are catching up. Barcelona now runs a network of nearly 400 “climate shelters” — libraries, museums, retrofitted schoolyards — with the goal of putting one within a 10-minute walk of every resident. For the first time, the city is keeping libraries open through August to do it, which, as anyone who has visited Europe in the late summer knows, is no small thing.

So adaptation exists, and it is saving lives. But this summer has also shown what happens when cities, states, and countries aren’t ready. 

In the US, the Midwestern and Northeastern states that spent last week under smoke alerts have almost none of the protections against wildfire smoke that have become more common in Western states, and no one is required to build them, because the country has no enforceable national indoor air-quality standard at all. In Europe, national heat plans are still reluctant to reach for the most powerful tool on the shelf. About one European household in five has air conditioning, compared to nearly nine in ten in the US, in large part because much of the continent still treats the machine as a moral defect. 

In both cases, rich regions that have largely taken climate mitigation more seriously than some of their neighbors aren’t pursuing adaptations they need. Which really means not taking climate change as seriously as they should. 

Accepting the bitter lesson

For a generation, adaptation was the word climate advocates were often reluctant to say out loud. In his 1992 book Earth in the Balance, Al Gore called adaptation “a kind of laziness, an arrogant faith in our ability to react in time to save our skins.” (He later changed his mind.) And in fairness, “we’ll just adapt” has often been a delaying tactic, an easy out for polluters. 

But the ground has shifted under that caution, because the projections did exactly what projections are supposed to do: they came true. 

Longer fire seasons, deadlier heat waves, smoke reaching places that never used to see it — this summer is the confirmation. And that changes what seriousness requires. If you’ve spent decades warning people that the effects of climate change are coming, you can’t treat readying for those effects as a distraction from the real work. None of this argues for easing up on emissions — each ton that isn’t emitted is adaptation nobody has to build. But preparing for what you predicted is what believing your own prediction looks like.

For AI researchers, Rich Sutton’s lesson was bitter for a specific reason. Those who resisted its conclusion weren’t foolish; they resisted it because it seemed to undercut all their hard work. They resisted it because it didn’t seem fair, just as it’s not fair that countries and states that have in many ways done much to mitigate climate change find themselves just as vulnerable, if not more so, than peers that have done comparatively little. 

But here’s the other half of Sutton’s lesson: The researchers who accepted it won. They stopped defending their cleverness and built what worked. That option is open to climate politics too. The atmosphere isn’t fair, but it is consistent, and it will deliver next summer’s version of this one on schedule. We can be ready. The bitter lesson is only bitter until you have the will to act on it. 

A version of this story originally appeared in the Future Perfect newsletter. Sign up here!

The greatest threat to animals in the US and globally is the destruction of their habitat — replacing grasslands with farms, cutting forests for timber, building suburbs atop wetlands. It’s the main reason why hundreds of species have been listed under the Endangered Species Act, which gives federal protection to species that are currently at risk of extinction or are about to be. 

That’s what makes a recent move by the Trump administration both confusing and — according to many environmental advocates — incredibly alarming. 

In a rule published earlier this month, the administration determined that, in many cases, destroying the habitat of federally threatened and endangered species is no longer explicitly illegal, even if doing so could ultimately drive them extinct. The rule upends half a century of regulatory precedent that survived many Republican administrations. Environmental advocates also say it runs counter to the very intent of the Endangered Species Act, which Congress passed in 1973 with near-unanimous bipartisan support (and which Richard Nixon signed into law).

While the Trump administration has made several recent decisions that weaken protections for endangered species — amid what many scientists call an extinction crisis — this one may have the most far-ranging consequences. Here’s why. 

A rule that could blow up the ESA

The Endangered Species Act is a complicated law, but on a simple level it makes it illegal for anyone to “take” endangered species without authorization from the government. “Take” is defined in the law by 10 different terms: harass, harm, pursue, hunt, shoot, wound, kill, trap, capture, or collect.

It’s the meaning of one of those words — harm — that matters most here. Up until the recent rule, the government’s definition for harm included destroying an animal’s habitat if it impairs essential behaviors, such as breeding. That might include, say, building a hotel on top of a beach that endangered sea turtles use for nesting. Such a definition was important because destroying the habitat of an already imperiled species could push it over the edge, wildlife advocates say. What’s more is that, according to the language of the law itself, the purpose of the ESA includes conserving “ecosystems upon which endangered species and threatened species depend.”

The Trump administration, however, just threw out that definition of harm and the unambiguous protection it has long afforded habitat. And while it didn’t offer a new definition, the administration said that it agrees with a much narrower interpretation of the term — articulated three decades ago in a dissent by the late conservative Justice Antonin Scalia — that only includes actions that directly and intentionally harm individual animals, such as capturing a sea turtle to eat or keep as a pet.

“For years, federal agencies abused the ESA to obstruct lawful land use and burden American families and businesses,” Doug Burgum, Secretary of the Interior Department, which oversees endangered species protections, said in a statement. “That approach turned routine activity into a regulatory trap, drove up costs that impacted people’s lives, and expanded federal authority beyond what Congress intended. This action restores common sense, respects private property, provides much-needed certainty for landowners and follows the statute Congress actually passed.” (The Interior Department declined to provide a comment on our reporting, pointing us instead to its press release and the notice in the Federal Register.) 

Under the new rule, set to take effect in September, “harm” no longer explicitly includes actions that may accidentally or indirectly doom a wildlife population to extinction. A company building luxury villas on a private beach that endangered sea turtles need for survival would not unambiguously be considered take — and thus be illegal — unless the company knew it’d crush turtle eggs or the turtles themselves in the process. Neither would logging old-growth forests that endangered birds inhabit, building wind turbines that are known to kill endangered bats, or constructing a road that would likely get endangered snakes run over. 

The administration’s interpretation of take “really completely blows up the Endangered Species Act,” said J.B. Ruhl, a lawyer at Vanderbilt University and a leading expert on the ESA.

To be clear, these sorts of actions were never forbidden outright — and this is key. An important feature of the ESA is that, with some exceptions, it allows companies, counties and states, and federal agencies to kill or harm endangered species, as long as they take steps to limit their impact. Indeed, nonfederal organizations of all kinds have, for decades, received federal permits that allow them to “take” endangered species, in exchange for coming up with a plan to minimize the harm they may cause. In Hawaii, for example, an electric utility that operates power lines that can injure endangered birds takes steps to prevent collisions and funds an avian rehab facility that helps offset some of its impacts. 

The problem now is that these conservation plans — which wildlife advocates say are critical for species recovery — are rooted in the defunct definition of harm, according to Daniel Rohlf, a law professor at Lewis & Clark Law School. 

The whole purpose of these so-called Habitat Conservation Plans is to lessen the incidental, or accidental, impacts on endangered species, while at the same time allowing companies to still build and operate legally. But in rescinding the former definition of harm, the Trump administration has essentially just said that all that incidental killing is no longer illegal anyway. That may undermine future Habitat Conservation Plans and those that have yet to be finalized. This “pulls the rug out from under literally decades of work,” Rohlf said of the recent rule. 

Next up: The Supreme Court?

Even under the new rule, the ESA still has some important protections for habitat. When the government lists a species as threatened or endangered, for example, it usually designates what’s called “critical habitat” — areas that it deems essential to the survival of the species. Under the ESA, all federal agencies have to ensure that their actions, such as permitting new mines or wind farms, do not destroy critical habitat or jeopardize the existence of a species. Those responsibilities are still intact. 

It’s also not certain that the new rule will stick. Several environmental groups have already sued the administration to try to reinstate the former definition, alleging, among other claims, that rescinding the definition of harm violates the language and the intent of the ESA. This challenge is likely to reach the Supreme Court, Ruhl says. 

To understand what could happen next requires some important context.

Until two years ago, courts typically deferred to federal agencies to determine how to interpret ambiguous language in laws like the ESA. This legal principle was known as the Chevron doctrine. It was the Fish and Wildlife Service, for example, that published a rule decades ago clarifying that the ambiguous word harm includes destroying an endangered animal’s habitat. That interpretation survived a famous 1995 Supreme Court case, Babbitt v. Sweet Home Chapter of Communities for a Great Oregon, in which Oregon landowners and the timber industry argued that the government defined “harm” too broadly. The court decided that an “ordinary understanding” of that term “naturally encompasses habitat modification” that injures or kills endangered species.

In the summer of 2024, however, the Chevron doctrine was overturned. That means the power to interpret unclear language in laws now rests with the courts. 

The Trump administration has seized on this fact, Rohlf said. Instead of redefining what harm means, the administration simply axed the existing definition that included impacts to habitat that injure wildlife. It will now be up to the courts to decide what is considered harm in future cases brought under the ESA — such as if, say, an environmental group sues a developer, claiming that it destroyed essential habitat for an endangered species in violation of the Act. The administration did not stop short of making clear what it thinks: In the preamble to the rule, it said harm should only include actions made directly and intentionally against endangered organisms.

Wildlife advocates point out that the Supreme Court already determined that a definition of harm including habitat destruction is reasonable. That’s what Babbitt v. Sweet Home was about. But because that case rested, in part, on the now-overturned Chevron doctrine, the courts — and perhaps eventually the Supreme Court — may relitigate the meaning of harm. (The Supreme Court did make it clear that it won’t call into question decisions that relied on the Chevron doctrine before it was overturned.) 

Ultimately, it’s hard to argue that harming an endangered species, in a plain reading of the word, does not include destroying vital habitat that it needs to survive or other actions that kill or injure them indirectly, legal scholars told me. It’s also clear that Congress saw it this way when it wrote the law. There’s a whole section of the ESA about granting permits for “incidental take,” which could include damaging an animal’s habitat, according to Holly Doremus, a law professor at the University of California, Berkeley. That section only makes sense, she says, if you’re interpreting harm to include actions that accidentally and indirectly kill or injure species — which is far broader than the definition that the Trump administration would like to use.   

For the Trump administration to really get what it wants, Doremus said, it would need to remove the word “harm” from the ESA altogether. Short of that, she said, Trump officials “want to make ‘harm’ as ineffective a statutory term as possible.”

Should the administration succeed — should the courts determine that “harm” does not apply to destroying the habitat of endangered species — environmental advocates warn that the ESA will lose much of its extinction-preventing power.

“If this decision is allowed to stand, it eviscerates the statute on which imperiled species conservation has rested in this country since 1973,” said Jane Davenport, a senior attorney at Defenders of Wildlife, an advocacy group. “This is truly a stake through the heart of the ESA.”

Scientists have started calling it the “Godzilla El Niño.”

The nickname comes from actual climate researchers, which should tell you something; they are not generally in the habit of comparing climatic systems to mega-monsters. What’s building in the eastern Pacific right now is a surge of ocean warming that is likely to make 2027 the hottest year in recorded history, possibly by a lot. The median projection puts next year at about 1.7 degrees Celsius above the preindustrial average. The high end gets close to 1.9, which, until recently, was a number climate models saved for the late 2030s.

David Wallace-Wells has spent a decade thinking about what numbers like that mean for the people who have to live under them, first in his 2017 essay “The Uninhabitable Earth” and the 2019 book that grew out of it, now as a writer and reporter at the New York Times. In a recent piece for the New York Times, Wallace-Wells made the case that 2027 could work as something stranger than a disaster forecast: a preview of everyday life in about 2035. It could be a full year lived at a temperature we weren’t supposed to reach for another decade: fire seasons, atmospheric rivers, disrupted monsoons, strained food systems, and all. 

What’s less certain is if any of this will change our politics. Americans tell pollsters they’re more worried about climate change than ever — more than after Katrina, more than at any point in the Bush, Obama, or Biden years — even as elite discourse on the subject has been waning. Meanwhile, the green transition keeps compounding. More than 90 percent of the new energy capacity built in America last year was green — and under an administration doing its best to stop it.

Sean Illing talked through all of it with Wallace-Wells for this week’s episode of The Gray Area. When Sean asked whether 2027 will be a real test of how much climate disruption we can manage, Wallace-Wells doesn’t blink: “I think it’s going to be a test on that score, which we will fail.” 

So yes, it gets dark. But, it also ends with the most convincing case for hope on climate I’ve heard in a while — and I write a newsletter that goes looking for good news every week. As always, there’s much more in the full podcast, so listen and follow The Gray Area on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, Pandora, or wherever you find podcasts.

This conversation has been edited for length and clarity.

Just about everybody has heard the term El Niño, but most of us — myself included, until very recently — don’t really know what it is. So let’s just start there. What is an El Niño?

It’s a climatic event that happens irregularly but pretty often — usually about every three or four years, sometimes as infrequently as every seven — in which you get a burst of warmer-than-normal temperatures in the coastal Pacific, off the coast of South America. And that has a lot of amazingly global consequences, in ways that are not intuitive to most normies.

So, in this case, you tend to see a lot more rain across the western US. You tend to see a lot less rain across Brazil and the Amazon. You see disruption to the monsoon season in South Asia; a similar disruption to rain across the Sahel and sub-Saharan Africa; and, typically, a suppression of hurricane activity in the Caribbean. Which is all to say: It’s a global disruption to the basic normal patterns that we come to depend on, but the disruption isn’t all in one direction.

At the global level, it makes things hotter — and the one that we’re seeing forming this year may be a record-setting one. I think the best way to think about it is just like we shook up the whole planet’s climate system, and we see a lot more disorder than we see in non-El Niño years.

What is particularly scary about this El Niño? Why do scientists seem to be alarmed?

There are a few different components to it. The first is that we are going to experience it at a much higher baseline of global average temperature than has ever been experienced before. Given that we are warming the planet quite rapidly, just about every year is warmer than just about every year that came before. We’ve normalized it so much that we don’t raise our eyebrows when we set new records for global average temperature. But novel events like an El Niño are happening on top of that baseline.

The things that terrified us into action not that long ago are now our inevitable future.

But another reason why scientists are concerned is because it is a super El Niño. Some of them are even calling it a Godzilla El Niño, which is to say the boost that we’re going to see because of this event may be bigger than any similar event ever observed in modern history.

That’s particularly alarming, because the El Niños of the late 1870s produced perhaps the most human suffering that the modern world has ever experienced: famines that killed tens of millions of people all around the world, from Africa to South Asia to China. I don’t want to suggest that this El Niño is capable of producing that kind of suffering. Obviously, 2026 is a different world than 1878, but it gives you a framework for how the consequences of an El Niño may filter through our political world if, over the next year, we see significant crop failures in multiple parts of the world, which is maybe even more possible because there’s a fertilizer shortage as a result of the war in Iran.

We probably will be able to respond to that such that 10 or 50 million people don’t die, but there will be considerable political disarray that results: bread riots, political protests, civil unrest, perhaps in multiple parts of the world. I’m not saying that’s inevitable, but it reminds us that a huge amount of what we take for granted as stable features of modern life is nevertheless subject on some level to disturbance by the climate system. And this climate system this year is winding up to really give us quite a wallop.

You write that next year, 2027,could be a preview of what everyday life will be like in a decade or so. Talk about that.

So, here we are in 2026, and the global average temperature is about 1.5°C above the preindustrial average. It doesn’t sound like very much, and on any given day that kind of effect is basically imperceptible to the average person. But it is a global average, and it hides a lot of extremes.

Our elite discourse and our elite policymaking has somehow decided to treat those anxieties as irrelevant.

It is also right about what we agreed we would try to limit warming to in the Paris agreement in 2015. We said we would definitely keep warming below 2 degrees, and we would do everything we could to keep warming close to 1.5 — a number that came from emerging science and emerging political sense among the world’s most vulnerable countries that 2 degrees wasn’t enough. That 1.5 degrees was itself going to be quite difficult to manage, but anything north of that was going to be quite catastrophic.

When we signed that agreement just 10 years ago, we were not yet north of 1 degree of warming. We are now, in the long-term average, somewhere about 1.3 or 1.4, [with] a single year at 1.5. And we are heading quite rapidly not just past the more ambitious goal we set for ourselves but toward the less ambitious one: 2 degrees. It now seems, practically speaking, inevitable. We’re heading toward a future that we defined as unacceptable.

And when I say that, I don’t just mean that the scientists at the IPCC defined it as unacceptable. When they published their research into the difference between those two levels that report was the event that gave us the huge global climate awakening of late 2018, 2019, into 2020. It’s the reason we know who Greta Thunberg is. It’s the reason we heard of Extinction Rebellion and Sunrise. It’s the reason we started talking about a Green New Deal. All the lip service that presidents, and prime ministers, and CEOs paid to climate change in the years that followed came out of a report that was basically saying, “We need to limit warming below 2 degrees.”

And we now know that we will be heading north of 2 degrees. The things that terrified us into action not that long ago are now our inevitable future.

Is it your belief that 2027 will be a real no-bullshit test of how much climate disruption we can effectively manage at this stage?

I think it’s going to be a test on that score, which we will fail. And the question is what impact that makes socially and politically. We are already seeing every year, in countless ways, how poorly prepared we are for the climate present, but most of the time it isn’t producing the kind of political and social response that I would like to see. And I worry that the basic pattern is going to continue, even into a much warmer future, where, rather than changing course and designing a much more responsive and resilient future, we will just find ourselves defining more and more suffering as acceptable and normal as the cost of going about our daily lives without being too preoccupied by the course of climate change.

A decade ago, a lot of people — myself included, I guess — really did believe that extreme weather would eventually force climate action. Can we just say by now that that theory has failed?

People are complicated, populations are complicated, and politics is complicated. I think of this story going back to Katrina, which was an eye-opening event more than 20 years ago now. It seemed, for a time, to mark a high point in American climate concern. It helped discredit the presidency of George W. Bush, gave us an upsurge of climate urgency and the election of Barack Obama — who said this would be the moment we looked back on as the moment the seas slowed their rise and the planet began to heal.

“We have imposed on ourselves and our future much more suffering and difficulty than we needed to, because climate change will be that disruptive.”

We’re going to be muddling through, and the future that we live in as a result will have a lot of bad stuff in it and a lot of good stuff in it.

We’ve seen a bunch of climate disasters just in the United States since then. Again and again, there’s a period of intense national focus and, then, a kind of withdrawing from the story of climate change. But that narrative — that we keep getting knocked back on our heels by climate disasters and then forget about them entirely — is also too simplistic. Looking at the headlines, you might think that everybody moved on from climate. The truth is that when you look into the survey data, we’re basically at the highest point for climate anxiety that we’ve ever been. Americans are more concerned about climate change than they were in the aftermath of Katrina. They’re more worried than they were at any point in the George W. Bush presidency, the Barack Obama presidency, and the Joe Biden presidency.

So, we have an interesting political story here. We’re telling ourselves that the country has moved on from climate. But, in fact, at the level of individual people — how they feel about their lives, the lives of their communities, and the future of their country — they are just about, if not more, worried about climate impacts than they’ve ever been before. And our elite discourse and our elite policymaking has somehow decided to treat those anxieties as irrelevant.

But the question is not whether they’re worried. The question is whether they’re worried enough to actually sacrifice anything in order to make headway.

You often hear from people who think we needn’t worry as much about climate change that most Americans are not willing to pay, say, $10 a month to take action on climate. In some ways, I feel like that’s a way of weaponizing American entitlement against one particular set of policy crusades. But the other thing I would say is that it’s not the case that we need to shoulder burdens in any meaningful sense to take action.

Solar power is dramatically cheaper than any fossil fuel alternative that’s ever been produced — at least by the levelized cost of electricity, which has been the industry standard for a generation. That measure is misleading, because it only accounts for the marginal cost of electricity and not the overall cost of a system; you get more solar when the sun’s shining and more wind when the wind’s blowing, so you have to build out around that to have a reliable supply. But because batteries have now made the same dramatic improvement in their cost that solar did a decade ago, you can use very cheap batteries to even out the distribution of solar and wind power. And that means the overall cost, according to recent research, of renewable power is now lower than any alternative system. We know those price declines are going to continue for renewables, and we know that they will not decline for fossil fuels.

I’m not an economic determinist — politics plays a huge role here, as does culture — but look at the United States right now. We have a president in the White House who is remarkably opposed to renewable energy. He has done an awful lot to try to kneecap the development and rollout of renewables in America. And, yet, last year, when he returned to office, more than 90 percent of all the new energy infrastructure built in America was green. For every unit of new fossil fuel infrastructure we were building, we built nine times as much green energy. This year, the share is going to be even bigger. It’s expected to be 93 percent, which is about what it is around the world entirely.

And with the Iran war, we see many countries around the world looking at the logic of their dependence on fossil fuels and thinking, “Why would I depend on international actors to continuously supply a power source at prices that they determine when I can do a one-time importation of green energy infrastructure and then collect the dividends in the form of sun and wind, which never stop and are domestically controlled?” If you’re talking about this as a race, it seems obvious that the green stuff is winning. The problem is that it’s not winning nearly fast enough to avoid some of these quite scary climate outcomes.

David, I feel smarter at the end of this conversation, because I know more, but I do not feel more optimistic about tomorrow. Do you have any good news that we can dip out of here with?

The world is full of good news. I can be the famous optimist David Wallace-Wells. Just on climate stuff: The green transition is proceeding at a breakneck pace, much faster than even its biggest boosters said was possible 10 or 15 years ago. The battery revolution changing the economic calculus for renewables is really profound. It means that we can probably, in large parts of the world, do 100 percent renewable power, which many people said was going to be completely impossible. And even before we get there, we are already dealing with free electricity in the middle of the day in sun-rich parts of the world. In Australia, they’ve literally passed a law promising citizens that, for several hours every day, they will be guaranteed free electricity.

And that’s just power. With the EV rollout that we’re seeing all around the world, you never have to go to a gas station ever again, because you just charge up at your house. Whenever we electrify anything, it gets dramatically more efficient. And we’re cleaning up air pollution, which is a much larger threat to human flourishing on any conceivable timescale than climate change is. Today, somewhere between 5 and 10 million people are dying every year from air pollution, but we’re past the peak of that. We’re drawing it down. There’s a lot of progress that is really wonderful and worth celebrating.

So, I don’t want to give the sense that, for all of my political despair, and for all of what I would call my climate realism, we are all doomed in some meaningful way. We’re living in an incredibly messy world. We have imposed on ourselves and our future much more suffering and difficulty than we needed to, because climate change will be that disruptive. But that challenge is a political one, it’s a social one, it’s a technological one. And while we are not pursuing each of those paths optimally, in my view, we also shouldn’t assume that we will fail each of those tests like we’re getting a zero.

We’re going to be muddling through, and the future that we live in as a result will have a lot of bad stuff in it and a lot of good stuff in it, which is, of course, human nature and human history. One hopes along the way we will wake up a little bit more — not just on climate, but on politics and governance. My hope, when I’m feeling optimistic, is that these stories are playing out on long enough timelines that we have at least the opportunity to take control of our climate system, our economic system, and our political system in ways that have eluded us in the past.

Listen to the rest of the conversation and be sure to follow The Gray Area on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, Pandora, or wherever you find podcasts.

BIRMINGHAM, Alabama — On a sweltering afternoon in June, I stood in what was essentially a roadside ditch. Sandwiched between a four-lane highway and the parking lot of a faith-based recreation center near Birmingham, the ditch was filled with cool, flowing water, a bit of trash, and, apparently, some highly endangered fish. 

Jeffrey Drummond, a biologist at the US Fish and Wildlife Service, stretched out a sheet of netting held between two poles, while his colleague kicked water into it.  

After a minute or so, we looked inside the netting. There were clumps of leaves and twigs, a few black salamanders, and a crayfish with its pincers held up, ready to fight. The biologists unceremoniously tossed them aside. They were more interested in a handful of fish that were wiggling around in the netting, each no larger than a pinky finger. 

Chris Haynes, a state fisheries biologist, popped the small fish into a container of clear water, revealing their colors: bright reds and muted shades of orange, blue, and yellow. 

“We got all three!” said Drummond, who had a beard and tattoos on his arms.

The fish were darters — slender, freshwater fish, known for their vibrant colors. And in that one go, the biologists had caught all three species that reside here: the watercress, rush, and vermilion darters. Each one is federally endangered, the strongest form of protection afforded to species in the US. 

Alabama is well known for college football, Southern hospitality, and conservative politics. But as I learned over a recent week in June, it’s also an epic biodiversity hotspot, especially in the aquatic realm. Remarkably, Alabama — which has more than 130,000 miles of rivers and streams — is home to more species of turtles, freshwater fish, snails, crayfish, and freshwater mussels than any other state in the country.  

It’s an unexpected epicenter of endangered species, too — those that are at risk of extinction and listed under the Endangered Species Act. According to a Vox analysis of government data, Alabama has more federally endangered and threatened animal species than any other state aside from California, which is three times larger by area. Endangered species are so common here that you can find them in a ditch on the side of the road.

This, of course, is an unwanted distinction. What makes it even more problematic, however, is that Alabama doesn’t have enough money to help these animals that are most at risk. 

Alabama is an extreme example of a challenge facing many US states: Much of the funding available to protect wild animals is not based on how threatened those species are. Funding streams, instead, prioritize species that people hunt or fish, known as game, and those that live in the most populous and largest states. 

This is an acute issue in places like Alabama that are not especially large or populous but full of imperiled species. And while those animals are vital to the state’s rivers and recreation industry, they also tend to be small, out of sight, and generally short on charisma — unlike, say, wolves, panthers, or whales. That makes projects to help them an even harder sell for limited environmental dollars.

That’s to say nothing of the state’s politics. Alabama is one of the country’s most conservative states, and Republicans have earned a reputation for opposing environmental protections. In 2022, the state’s Republican US congressional representatives all voted against a nonpartisan bill that would have likely quintupled funding for Alabama’s non-game species — like the endangered darters I saw in the roadside stream — had it not stalled out before passing the Senate. Some of the state’s congressional Republicans have also thrown support behind projects that may endanger even more species.

While a close look at Alabama reveals that wildlife support systems are biased against certain species and regions, it also highlights the immense power that a dedicated few human champions can have. During my trip, I met scientists who are working hard to help the state’s obscure endangered species, from mussels to snails, with whatever resources they can cobble together. They convinced me that these animals are, in fact, quite charismatic. And why, no matter our political tilts, we should rally to keep them here on Earth.

A good rule of thumb is that if you come across a refrigerator while visiting a biology lab, you should look inside of it. This rule served me well at the Alabama Aquatic Biodiversity Center (AABC), a state-run facility about an hour from Tuscaloosa. In two fridges I found plastic containers full of pregnant freshwater mussels. 

AABC is primarily a nursery for endangered mussels. A collection of several old buildings just off a rural highway, the facility collects pregnant adults, raises their babies, and then releases them months later in streams to help restore their wild populations. 

Mussels are essentially nature’s Brita filters. A single large mussel can filter as much as a liter of water an hour, removing bacteria, algae, and other potentially harmful particles, said Carla Atkinson, a mussel researcher at the University of Alabama. And a healthy stream can have 50 mussels in a single pillow-size patch, she said. Abundant mussel populations can save cities money on water filtration and make rivers more swimmable for people and more habitable for other species. 

Alabama used to have more than 180 species of freshwater mussels, says Paul Johnson, a state biologist who runs AABC. Two dozen of them have already gone extinct, he said. Close to 70 of those that remain are federally endangered or threatened, largely as a result of dams and water pollution, and AABC is currently working to restore about 15 of them.

You might think raising animals that resemble rocks is easy, but it very much is not. And the reason why is best explained by what is, without question, the most exciting thing to know about these animals. 

Mussels have a “foot” that helps them burrow, but they can’t easily travel. That makes it hard for them to colonize new habitats and, in turn, survive changing environmental conditions. But over millions of years, they evolved a hack: They hitch a ride on fish. Or rather, their babies do. Larval mussels, known as glochidia, spend their first few weeks of life attached to the gills of fish, before dropping off elsewhere in the riverbed to begin a largely sedentary lifestyle in a new place. 

The real ingenuity is in how those glochidia get onto fish in the first place. Essentially, mussels pretend to be fish food to lure them in. Some females wave around a fleshy part of their body so it looks like a swimming minnow. Others release into the water packets of glochidia that have evolved to look like insect larvae. When fish go in for a bite, they get a face full of baby mussels that soon after attach to their gills, like real-life xenomorphs.  

These lures are surprisingly convincing. One of the species found here, known as the Southern pocketbook mussel, for example, uses its fleshy mantle to mimic a bait fish.

Meanwhile, a federally threatened Alabama mussel, the orangenacre mucket, clumps its glochidia together in two fish-shaped masses, which it tethers to its body with a mucous strand. This creates the illusion of free swimming fish. When a fish bites the lure, the clump ruptures and the babies get sucked into the fish’s mouth and over its gills. 

My favorite examples come from mussels in the genus Epioblasma, all of which are endangered. They leave their shells ajar, and produce a lure that mimics some kind of fish food, like crayfish eggs or larvae. When hungry fish poke their heads inside, the mussels snap shut like a Venus flytrap — and blast the fish in the face with babies. After this abrupt encounter, the fish are released to go on their way with their new stowaways. 

Different kinds of mussels typically rely on different “host” fish. And that brings us back to one of the challenges of running a mussel nursery; not only do you need pregnant mussels, you also need lots of fish. 

To rear these mussels in captivity, scientists first find and collect pregnant, or “gravid,” mussels from the wild and store them in refrigerators. The cold keeps the animals pregnant for longer. Then they extract the glochidia manually and add them to a container with the proper host fish. Those fish get “infected” in a matter of minutes, at which point the fish are moved into tanks in a nearby room. Weeks later, nearly invisible mussels drop off the fish and fall to the bottom of those tanks, where they’re collected by scientists. From there, the young mussels grow in plastic buckets indoors and, once they’re a bit bigger, in plastic buckets outdoors — in a nearby well-fed pond.    

I visited the pond one sunny afternoon with Johnson, who wore a ball cap and glasses. Johnson is self-deprecating and often finishes his sentences with a bout of disarming, wheezy laughter. A Kentucky native with an accent to match, he’s been working with endangered species for more than 30 years. 

A wooden dock fitted with pipes and tubes extended out onto the pond. Submerged in the clear water around it were about 80 weighted buckets full of mussels. The tubes, I learned, move air through the lids of the buckets and — thanks to some confusing physics — help cycle water through them, mimicking a stream. It looked and sounded like the water around the dock was boiling.

Johnson pulled one of the buckets onto the dock. Inside was what looked like hundreds of pumpkin seeds, golden and glossy as if they’d been dipped in caramel. These were baby pale lilliputs, a federally endangered mussel species, so named for its small size; they’re about an inch and a half long when fully grown. 

Lilliputs are native to rivers of Alabama and Tennessee, but they nearly went extinct in the mid-1900s, as the US government turned rivers into channels, farmland spread, and cities and suburbs expanded. “There are more of these in this bucket than there are in museum collections around the world,” Johnson said, to emphasize how rare they are. 

Michael Buntin, a state biologist at AABC, pulled up another bucket. This one was filled with hundreds of two slightly larger species: the Alabama rainbow and Coosa moccasinshell. “That is absolutely one of the rarest species in the United States,” Johnson said of the moccasinshell, which was pointy and brown. I had now seen more moccasinshell mussels than all but a handful of people in the world, Buntin told me.

You might imagine that a facility managing hundreds of some of the nation’s most endangered species would have state-of-the-art technology, a large team, advanced security, and a carefully orchestrated media presence. AABC has none of those things. Most of the technology is DIY — Tupperware containers in refrigerators, plastic buckets with holes cut into them. AABC has only four full-time employees. The buildings are old and falling apart. “It’s low budget,” Buntin said with a snicker. 

“We have the most species and the fewest dollars.”

Paul Johnson

That’s partly out of choice, Johnson said. Simple, homemade systems are easier to fix if they break. But it’s also because the facility — like so many state conservation efforts across the country — is wildly underfunded for the number of species it is charged with bringing back from the brink of extinction. 

“We have the most species and the fewest dollars,” Johnson said of Alabama, adding, sarcastically: “That makes a lot of sense.”

The headwinds facing efforts like this begin far upstream. Most funding for state wildlife agencies — which oversee the bulk of the country’s conservation, including endangered and threatened species — actually comes from selling hunting and fishing licenses, along with federal excise taxes on guns, ammo, and fishing gear. 

This setup not only encourages states to promote gun use but also to spend those funds on managing animals that people like to hunt and fish. In fact, some of that money is legally restricted to programs that support birds, mammals, and sport fish. And that, of course, does not include many of the nation’s endangered species — including most of those in Alabama. 

Just look at the roughly $450 million annual budget for the Alabama Department of Conservation and Natural Resources, which manages parks, hunting, and conservation. Of that, only about 1 percent goes toward helping non-game species, including mussels, crayfish, snails, and many endangered fish, according to Amy Silvano, who leads non-game efforts at the department. AABC is a key part of the agency’s non-game division and receives a total average annual budget of just $750,000, Silvano said. 

While funding for non-game species is a challenge nationwide, Alabama is, in some ways, also uniquely ill-positioned.

Alabama has a human population of about 5 million, and it ranks in the bottom half of all US states by area. That matters, because much of the limited federal money that is made available for at-risk animal species is allocated based on a state’s geographic size and human population — not on how many endangered or threatened species it has. Larger and more populous states like New York and Illinois receive more funding to protect endangered species than Alabama does. Even though they have far fewer of them. 

“The states with the greatest biodiversity challenges aren’t necessarily the states receiving funding proportional to those challenges,” said Michelle Lute, executive director of the advocacy group Wildlife for All.

These problems are not unfixable. A few years ago, the US House voted on Recovering America’s Wildlife Act, which would have dispersed $1.3 billion across all US states to protect their imperiled species, including some $25 million for Alabama. Though Republicans from Alabama voted against it, the bill passed the House and was widely considered nonpartisan. It later stalled in the Senate and has yet to become law — because lawmakers couldn’t agree on how to pay for it.

Alabama has actually had more success in boosting funding for threatened species at the state level. The Republican-dominated state legislature recently approved $2 million for the state’s threatened species from its general fund. Some of that money is going toward fixing up aging infrastructure at AABC. 

Chris Oberholster helped lobby for those state funds while he was working in external affairs for The Nature Conservancy, a large environmental nonprofit. Oberholster, now director of philanthropy at another green group, said one key to garnering support for conservation in Alabama has been framing it as a boon for outdoor recreation, such as by maintaining the natural beauty of lakes and streams through restoring mussels. 

Preserving the state’s unique ecological heritage has also been a selling point for conservation, he said — many of these aquatic species are found only in Alabama, and that makes people want to help save them. 

If there’s a lesson here, it is perhaps an obvious one: You can find support, and even cash, for wildlife conservation everywhere, as long as you connect the benefits of that work to the values of people in the local community. 

On another muggy afternoon, I joined Atkinson, the University of Alabama researcher, in a shallow stream east of Tuscaloosa. She shuffled around, careful with each step, holding in her hands what looked like a metal detector — a pole connected to a ring-shaped base, which she kept submerged underwater. 

Atkinson wasn’t searching for metallic treasures but biological ones. She was looking for very rare mussels.

A mussel evangelist who often works with AABC, Atkinson was searching with Johnson for Coosa moccasinshells that had been released here in recent years. Scientists “chipped” several of them before releasing them in the river, which means the mussels were fitted with a microchip, not unlike a pet dog or cat. The device that Atkinson was carrying, known as a PIT-tag reader, helps locate those chips, making it easier for researchers to monitor rare mussel populations.

Despite its resource constraints, AABC has released roughly 300,000 mussels across more than a dozen species in Alabama’s rivers over the last 15 years. Some reintroduced populations are now breeding on their own, Johnson said. In fact, AABC has been successful enough in raising and releasing one particular species — the pale lilliput, the ones that look like golden pumpkin seeds — that it may soon be eligible for delisting under the Endangered Species Act, meaning it would no longer be considered endangered. 

Two other species are on their way to getting off the list, too, Johnson said, largely owing to AABC’s restoration work. With more resources the center could do more, said Johnson, who suggested they would likely restore more mussels and other aquatic species too, including fish and crayfish. “We can expand what we’re doing pretty easily,” Johnson said.

After several minutes canvassing the streambed with the PIT-tag reader, Atkinson got a ping. A Coosa moccasinshell was, apparently, right by her feet. 

I thought she’d simply reach into the water and grab the thing. She had no such luck. Not only do mussels look like every other rock on the bottom, but they can also burrow into the riverbed, making them hard to find, even with a literal mussel detector. 

Atkinson threw on a mask and snorkel and plunged her head underwater. A few minutes later, she popped up, smiling, with a shiny brown lump in her hand.  

“It’s gratifying to see that they’re still persisting and that we chose the right habitat,” said Johnson, who had been busy collecting pea-size snails to show me. 

I’ll be the first to admit that this creature, as it appeared before me, was not so thrilling to look at. It was not cute or colorful. And aside from an almost imperceptible movement of its shell, it offered little proof of life. 

Then I thought about what this one animal does. How it thoughtlessly filters the water just by existing, making it livable for everything else, at no cost to us. How it mimics fish food, despite having no brain or true eyes, a trick forged by millions of years of evolution. How it can help stabilize the riverbed and minimize erosion by anchoring itself to the bottom.

The abundant wildlife in Alabama might not be charismatic in a traditional sense, but there’s an understated impressiveness to it. The fish in the ditch by the highway evolved to live in isolated springs and are still persisting, if barely, in the middle of a sprawling city that sprung up around them. Some crayfish — there are about 100 species in Alabama, many of which are imperiled — appear to engineer ventilation systems that bring fresh air into their underground burrows. 

Before leaving Alabama, I drove south to a bog about 45 minutes from Mobile. It was spectacular. The ground was blanketed by carnivorous pitcher plants and crayfish burrows. The crayfish here are “primary burrowers,” Brian Helms, a researcher who studies these animals at Alabama’s Troy University, told me, as we walked through the bog. Although they breathe with gills, like fish, they live on land, he said. They just dig down deep enough to reach the water table. 

It’s spots like this that represent the unique environmental heritage that Oberholster was talking about. Though often hidden, they have real value. And if more people, and especially lawmakers, don’t see that, the animals within them may not be around for much longer.

Melissa Hirsch contributed reporting.

Editor’s note, July 12, 8 am ET: We’re bringing you some of our best-loved Your Mileage May Vary columns while Sigal Samuel is on parental leave. The one below was originally published in January 2025.

This unconventional advice column offers you a unique framework for thinking through moral dilemmas. It’s based on value pluralism: the idea that each of us has multiple values that are equally valid but that often conflict with each other. Submit your own question here.

I live in an isolated part of a developed country, relatively far from anything else, and am struggling with my relationship to flying in the face of climate change. Most advice on minimizing flying seems tailored to more connected areas in the US or Europe; we have no trains or buses, and it’s a 12+ hour drive to the nearest city. I’ve considered moving to a more connected area where these would be options, but then I’d experience the same angst any time I wanted to visit my family where I currently live. 

I’ve tried to take the approach of flying less frequently and staying for longer periods of time, but I feel resentful toward the carefree way I see friends around me approaching this issue, like flying out every month to watch a game. I feel like I’m torturing myself with guilt over something that no one cares about, and that the good I do by avoiding the one roundtrip I would take on a vacation per year is erased by the behavior of my peers. 

On the other hand, the contribution my annual flight would make, in terms of global emissions and demand in the airline industry, is minuscule. I feel generally opposed to making climate change about individual actions, but flying is also something that is such a privileged action that it feels like a special case. I also feel conflicted because I don’t think I deserve to travel if I can’t do it ethically, but the strategies often proposed as alternatives are not available to me. 

Dear Resentfully Landbound, 

Your question has me thinking about Greta Thunberg. In 2019, the Swedish activist wanted to attend a climate conference in the US, but she refused to fly because of the high carbon emissions associated with air travel. So, instead, she traveled across the Atlantic by boat. On rough seas. For two weeks.

Should we all be doing what Thunberg did?

I think Thunberg is a heroic young activist, and there’s value in activists who take a purist approach, like refusing to ever fly. But the value lies less in their individual action and more in their ability to serve as a powerful jolt to our collective moral imagination — to shift the Overton window, the range of behaviors that seem possible. Thunberg’s well-publicized sailing voyage, for example, helped convince others to fly less. But to say her approach has been a potent rhetorical tool is different from saying it’s a model that every individual should follow to a tee.   

For one thing, not everyone can sail the seas for two weeks — whether because of the time required, a physical health condition, or some other factor. And it’s not clear that all people should forgo all flying. 

That’s because we each have multiple values. Yes, protecting our planet is a crucial value. So is, say, nurturing relationships with beloved family members and friends who live abroad. Or developing a career. Or learning about other cultures. Or making art. So, even though minimizing how much we fly is a virtuous thing to do, some thinkers would caution you against treating that as the only relevant value. 

Take contemporary philosopher Susan Wolf, who wrote an influential essay called “Moral Saints.” She argues that you shouldn’t actually strive to be “a person whose every action is as morally good as possible…who is as morally worthy as can be.” If you try to optimize your morality through extreme altruistic self-sacrifice, she says, you end up living a life bereft of the personal projects, relationships, and experiences that make up a life well lived. You can also end up being a crappy friend or family member.

We often think of “virtues” as being connected to morality, but Wolf’s point is that there are non-moral virtues, too — like artistic, musical, or athletic talent — and we want to cultivate those, too.

“If the moral saint is devoting all his time to feeding the hungry or healing the sick or raising money for Oxfam, then necessarily he is not reading Victorian novels, playing the oboe, or improving his backhand,” she wrote. “A life in which none of these possible aspects of character are developed may seem to be a life strangely barren.” 

In other words, it’s okay — even desirable — to devote yourself to a variety of personal priorities, rather than sacrificing everything in pursuit of moral perfection. The tricky bit is figuring out how to balance between all the priorities, which sometimes conflict with each other.

In fact, I think part of the appeal of the purist approach is that it actually makes life easier on this score. Even though it demands extreme self-sacrifice, the extreme altruist never has to ask herself how much of the luxury (in this case, flying) to allow herself. The right answer is clear: none. 

By contrast, if you’re trying to balance between different values, it’s nigh on impossible to arrive at an objectively “right” answer. That’s very uncomfortable; we like clear formulas! But I tend to agree with philosophers like Bernard Williams, who argue that it’s a fantasy to think we can import scientific objectivity into the realm of ethics. Our ethical life is just too messy and multifaceted to be captured by any single set of universally binding moral principles, any systematic moral theory. 

And, if that’s so, we have to look at how compelling we find the case for each competing value. It’s often obvious to us that we shouldn’t give equal weight to all of them. For example, I’m obsessed with snorkeling, and I’d love to be able to travel to all the top snorkeling destinations this year, from Hawaii, to the Maldives, to Indonesia. But I know I can’t justify taking infinite flights for infinite snorkeling trips during a climate emergency! 

At the same time, that doesn’t mean I won’t ever go on any trip whatsoever. I do sometimes let myself travel by air, especially if it’s for a purpose that is not only pleasurable but also essential to a life well lived, like nurturing relationships with friends and family members who live far away. And when I fly, I try to make those miles really count by staying for a longer time. 

This is basically what you’re already doing: “I’ve tried to take the approach of flying less frequently and staying for longer periods of time,” you wrote, describing “the one roundtrip I would take on a vacation per year.” I think that’s a reasonable approach, especially given the lack of trains and buses in your area.

So, even though you framed your dilemma as a question about whether or how much to fly, I don’t actually think the flying bit is your real problem. The real problem is this bit: “I feel resentful with the carefree way I see friends approaching this issue, like flying out every month to watch a game. I feel like I’m torturing myself with guilt over something that no one cares about.”

To be clear, it’s totally understandable to feel resentful; what your friends are doing does sound excessive. But the issue is that your resentment is making you miserable. And a virtuous but miserable life is not likely to be sustainable.

Some do-gooders can go to altruistic extremes without feeling resentful or judgmental. They may be able to forgo flying entirely and use that choice to create new forms of meaning and connection and to enrich other aspects of their lives so that they don’t become joyless, judgy, or one-dimensional moral optimizers of the sort Wolf described. But most of us are not in that category. And unless you are, I wouldn’t counsel you to go down the purist path, because resentment and judgmentalness can cause their own harm. They harm you. They harm the relationship between you and the targets of your judgment. And they can, ultimately, harm the cause itself because they’re off-putting to others and they make being climate-friendly seem impossibly hard. 

If you’re like most of us, a path of moderation will probably work better. You can decide on a balance that you think is reasonable — for example, one roundtrip flight per year — and stick with that. Once you’ve done that, ditch the guilt that’s torturing you. That’ll help diffuse the resentment, some of which I suspect is actually resentment toward yourself, because of how you’ve been torturing yourself. 

But that on its own might not be enough to get rid of all the resentment, because flying once annually still might feel like a big sacrifice relative to what your peers are doing. So one key intervention here is to expand your aperture, to look at what a broader group of people are doing, so that you don’t feel you’re sacrificing for the sake of “something that no one cares about.” More people care than you might think! 

A study published in Nature Communications found that 80 to 90 percent of Americans are living in a “false social reality.” They dramatically underestimate how much public support there is for climate policies. They think only 37 to 43 percent support these policies, when the real proportion of supporters is roughly double that. (And support is high across the world.) The study authors note that this misperception “poses a challenge to collective action on problems like climate change,” because it’s hard to stay motivated when you think you’re alone in caring.  

Concretely connecting with others who are choosing to fly less will help bring this home for you and make you feel that you’re part of a community that shares your values. Networks you can reach out to include Stay Grounded, We Stay on the Ground, and Flying Less. The sense of belonging and camaraderie you get from being part of such a group can help you form positive emotional associations with your reduced-flying lifestyle. You’ll feel like you’re gaining something, not just losing. 

I think that’s especially important given that resentment can actually feel good in the short term (even if it damages our well-being in the long term). Righteous indignation is a rush; it gives us an energy boost. So we can’t expect the brain to give it up just like that. We need to replace it with something else that feels good. The best candidate may be the pleasant emotion that philosophers and psychologists have identified as resentment’s exact opposite: gratitude. 

Next time you feel resentment bubbling up, go out in nature and do something you enjoy — birding, hiking, swimming — and really savor it. Pay close attention to each sound, each smell. Remind yourself that your reduced-flying lifestyle is helping to preserve this source of pleasure. In other words, it’s enabling you to get more of what you love. As you do that, I hope you’ll feel not only proud that you’re living in line with your values but also very grateful to yourself. 

Bonus: What I’m reading

• This dilemma reminded me not just of Greta Thunberg, but also of Simone Weil, a WWII-era philosopher who died early because she starved herself, refusing to eat more than people in occupied France. She was a “moral saint” if ever there was one. And as this excellent essay in The Point magazine notes, “Weil is a saint, but many couldn’t stand her.” She’s admirable for how much she cared about others’ suffering, but is her extreme self-sacrifice actually exemplary, in the sense that we should all follow her example? I don’t think so.    

• I also finally picked up a book that’s been on my to-read list for ages: Strangers Drowning by Larissa MacFarquhar. It does a beautiful job telling stories about extreme altruists and getting you thinking about the pros and cons of the purist path. 

• I’m enjoying Isaiah Berlin’s essay “The Pursuit of the Ideal” in which the moral pluralist philosopher argues that there’s no one right way to live, whether on the individual or state level. “Utopias have their value,” Berlin writes, since “nothing so wonderfully expands the imaginative horizons of human potentialities — but as guides to conduct they can prove literally fatal.”  

The climate case against beef is now almost boringly well-established: It is, by far, the most carbon-intensive food in the world, amounting to about 6 percent of all global greenhouse gas emissions. But cows don’t just become burgers and steaks. They also become shoes, bags, couches, and car interiors — products often marketed with a very different story about sustainability.

Leather has often been defended in the fashion industry as an essentially harmless by-product of meat production — a waste material that would otherwise be thrown in the trash. But if you think about it, that assumption is kind of weird: The global leather market is valued at hundreds of billions of dollars annually, and hides are an important revenue stream for cattle producers. We wouldn’t say that paper is a waste product of timber production just because the most valuable parts of the tree are used for lumber. Likewise, animal hides help support extra profits for cattle farming and also carry a share of that industry’s emissions and other planetary impacts. 

A recent meta-analysis published in ACS Sustainable Chemistry & Engineering reveals that cow leather’s carbon footprint is much larger than we thought: 70 percent larger than previous estimates. Using the study’s emissions estimate, Vox calculated that a men’s leather wallet would carry the emissions equivalent of roughly four American-made beef burgers; a leather tote bag, meanwhile, might be comparable to roughly 35 burgers. 

Pound for pound, the researchers estimate, bovine leather emits more than 12 times as much as vegan leathers made from materials ranging from synthetics like polyurethane — mass-market pleather — to next-generation fungi– and plant cellulose-based leathers. 

Mikaila Roncevich, the study’s lead author and a graduate student in the department of fiber science and apparel design at Cornell University, cautioned me that there’s still some uncertainty in the precise numbers due to gaps in the data on global cattle and leather supply chains. But the core insight of the paper for consumers remains the same. “If [leather’s] footprint is shocking or seems high to people, I think it should be a push to keep reflecting on the impact of raising animals for products,” Roncevich said. Leather may benefit (along with wool and other animal-derived materials) from a natural image, but on closer examination, it helps sustain one of the world’s most polluting, environmentally destructive industries.

Why leather’s carbon footprint has been so underestimated

The climate impact of beef and other foods has been relatively well documented — and covered exhaustively in outlets like this one — thanks in part to a landmark 2018 paper that consolidated and compared data for about 40 of the world’s most popular agricultural goods. But “much less attention has been paid to impacts of textiles and materials that originate from [these] farms,” Matt Hayek, an associate professor in NYU’s department of environmental studies and a co-author of the ACS study, told me. With the new paper, the first peer-reviewed meta-analysis of leather’s overall greenhouse gas emissions, the researchers hope to help bring leather the same kind of scrutiny that’s been applied to the food system.

When one industry produces several different saleable products — such as the meat, hides, and other materials derived from cattle — researchers must decide how much of that industry’s emissions should be assigned to each product. There are multiple methods for doing this, but one common one is to use each co-product’s relative economic value. The new paper’s estimate for leather’s carbon footprint comes in so much higher than earlier estimates partly because of the authors’ more accurate global accounting of emissions attributable to animal hides.

Many previous studies of leather’s carbon footprint have relied on the EU’s environmental footprint accounting guidelines for leather, which assume that animal hides are responsible for a tiny share of the environmental burden of cattle farming. That is because, in Europe, dairy and meat production are closely intertwined, with most cattle herds being used for both milk and beef. The European guidelines that have informed many estimates of leather’s emissions recommend allocating 88 percent of cattle’s environmental impact to dairy, and 12 percent to all products coming from the slaughtered animal carcass, which includes mostly beef, but also hides. The downstream result is that hides are treated as responsible for just 0.42 percent of the animal’s total farming footprint — essentially a rounding error.

But that assumption travels poorly to other parts of the world, including the US and other top producers of bovine hides destined to become leather, where most cattle herds are not used for dairy. In Brazil, the world’s cattle-farming capital, only a small share of cattle are dairy animals. Most cattle there are raised for their beef and hides, and demand for leather from the US and other rich countries has helped drive deforestation in the Amazon rainforest, which gets cut down to make room for cattle rearing.  

To correct for the “Eurocentric view” used in past research, as Roncevich called it, the team used data from the UN Food and Agriculture Organization to more accurately trace global cattle herds — accounting for differences between beef and dairy herds and calculating the emissions associated with them in different regions. To determine what share of those emissions should be assigned to leather, they then used estimates of the economic value of animal hides in different parts of the world. As a global weighted average, they found, bovine hides actually make up about 8.1 percent of the total value of the animal at slaughter. 

That might not sound very high, but, the authors argue, it’s significant enough to meaningfully shape the cattle industry. “Leather is a valuable co-product that impacts decisions during the cow’s lifetime,” Roncevich said. Farmers bring animals into the world according to demand for their products — and consumer demand for leather likely means that global cattle herds are larger than they would be otherwise. 

I consulted agricultural economist Richard Sexton, an emeritus professor at UC Davis, for his thoughts on that analysis. The 8.1 percent economic allocation to cattle hides “sounds roughly right,” he told me in an email, but he’s skeptical that even a collapse in demand for leather would have a major impact on global cattle populations. He predicts that such a scenario would result in “a new equilibrium with a somewhat smaller herd size and slaughter volume, but nothing drastic or extreme.” 

What comes after leather?

Beyond the wonky questions about carbon accounting, this research taps into a more visceral debate in the fashion world and our broader culture: the pervasive assumption that what comes from nature must be better for nature. But what seems natural is not necessarily good. 

That message is often especially anathema in fashion media and influencer circles, where natural fibers, including animal-based ones, are widely extolled. “There’s definitely such a gut reaction that people have when they hear the terms ‘natural’ versus ‘synthetic,’” said Roncevich, who is also a designer of accessories made with animal-free materials. (Of course, there is little that’s natural about cattle ranching or preserving animal skins so that they don’t readily biodegrade.)

Many shoppers believe animal leather is more durable than synthetic alternatives, which could partially offset its much higher carbon footprint if it means people need to replace shoes, bags, or jackets less frequently. That can be true, particularly when the synthetic leathers most readily available to consumers are the cheap, thin kind that can crack and peel after relatively little use. There is also concern about the damage of introducing more plastics-based products into the environment. But the reality is far more complicated than a clean quality binary between slaughter-based and synthetic leather (the former can fall apart, too, and is often made more durable with plastic-based finishes). Animal leather has plenty of toxic baggage of its own, from the chromium salts and other pollutants generated by tanneries to the manure runoff and water pollution associated with cattle ranching.

All of the non-animal leathers evaluated in the meta-analysis had a much lower carbon footprint than bovine leather — and the category is no longer limited to fossil fuel-derived pleathers. Startups are now developing leather-like materials from mycelium, cactus, pineapple leaves, apple pomace, and other bio-based materials. But for these materials to become more than niche alternatives and scale affordably, they’ll need continued innovation. 

I suspect people’s feelings about natural and synthetic materials have less to do with a rational weighing of impacts than with the cultural meanings and class signals attached to them. But those signifiers aren’t immutable. Some large companies like Apple have started to ditch animal-derived leather materials, and the study’s authors call for more brands to invest in bio-based leather alternatives. For that to succeed will demand a bit more of us as consumers, too: to be a little more open-minded about what vegan leathers can be, and more clear-eyed about the harms of the real thing.

Melissa Hirsch contributed additional research to this reporting.

Today's links

• Good politics: Just make people's lives better.
• Hey look at this: Delights to delectate.
• Object permanence: WWII online; Xbox security blunders; Homeless bloggers; Thermal printer racing game; Robbing a bank to get healthcare in jail; Crumb v Trump; "The Blues Brothers"; Bagelheads; Pickpocket training mannequin; Windmill joke; Singularity skepticism; GPU Dieselgate; Peleton bricks treadmills; Juul's junk science.
• Upcoming appearances: Toronto, NYC, Philadelphia, Chicago, London, Edinburgh, Sydney, Melbourne, Brighton, London, South Bend.
• Recent appearances: Where I've been.
• Latest books: You keep readin' em, I'll keep writin' 'em.
• Upcoming books: Like I said, I'll keep writin' 'em.
• Colophon: All the rest.

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Good politics (permalink)

Some people love to admire a beautiful football play; me, I can't get enough of politicians doing good politics – and like those World Cup fans, I am doubly pleased when it's my team making the play.

I definitely have a team in Brazilian politics: President Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva and his Workers' Party. Lula's done so many amazing things in his career, and these often intersect with my own special interests. Like, he made Gilberto Gil his minister of culture, and his people built the telecentros, free software-based internet dojos for the poorest kids in the country, living in favelas:

https://www.informationweek.com/software-services/brazil-turns-away-from-microsoft

Lula was royally ratfucked – framed by a corrupt justice minister who secretly conspired with the country's oligarchs – and imprisoned, and the conspirators installed Jair Bolsonaro, a fascist war criminal whose covid bungling led to mass death:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Operation_Car_Wash

When Bolsonaro lost his next election – to a triumphant Lula – he attempted a coup, for which he was arrested and handed a long prison sentence, despite Trump and Microsoft trying to intimidate the Brazilian judge into letting him walk:

https://www.politico.com/news/2025/09/22/bolsonaro-prosecution-us-sanctions-00575122

Now, Lula is fighting to keep Bolsonaro's nepobaby failson, Senator Flávio Bolsonaro, from wrestling back control over the country for his fascist party; and that's where the good politics come in.

Lula's party has just scored a massive, national political victory by tabling legislation to establish a five-day workweek. While Brazil's professional/managerial class enjoy a two-day weekend, the working poor of the nation are prisoners of the escala 6×1 system, which sees them working six days per week. It's a hangover from the era of Brazil's fascist dictatorship, which (nominally) ended in 1988, but whose legacy still haunts the Brazilian people.

Lula's 40-hour workweek is incredibly popular. So popular that Bolsonaro's party whipped its members to vote for it, because they fear that to do otherwise would hand an even bigger majority to Lula, who might go on to give workers a four-day work-week:

https://prospect.org/2026/06/22/lula-sees-boosts-as-he-pushes-to-reduce-brazilian-workweek/

It turns out that weekends are popular and promising the electorate access to a weekend is good politics. What's more, denying weekends to the electorate is shitty, awful politics, which is why Bolsonaro's fascists were forced to vote in favor of a policy they hate, even though all credit for that policy will still go to Lula and the Worker' Party. The bill passed 461-19.

Contrast Lula's muscular, deliverism-based politics that seeks to improve the lives of working people in tangible, immediate ways with the catastrophic series of blunders that Keir Starmer's Labour has delivered. Despite having won a majority so large it would have made Saddam Hussein blush (not because Labour was popular, but because the outgoing Conservatives were universally loathed), Starmer has refused to lift a finger to improve Britons' lives. Instead, he's abetted genocide, criminalized protest, proposed ending jury trials, imposed austerity, handed the NHS over to Palantir and all the remaining potable water and electrical capacity in the country over to America's most unprofitable AI giants.

Starmer's insistence that we can't have nice things is bad politics, because (and it's weird that this has to be said) a government that makes people's lives worse is less popular than a government that makes people's lives better:

https://www.whatwelo.st/p/everyone-hates-tech-but-nobody-knows

Now, the right is incapable of making working people's lives better, because broad improvements to the vast majority necessarily come at the expense of the tiny minority of morbidly wealthy hoarders whom the right serves. In order to get millions of turkeys to vote for Christmas, the right substitutes spectacular acts of cruelty against disfavored minorities to distract their voters from the quiet acts of everyday cruelty they subject those voters to:

https://pluralistic.net/2026/04/12/always-great/#our-nhs

This isn't good politics. The sadistic torture of your base's enemies will never please them so well nor so durably as making immediate, significant improvements in their lives will.

That's why the corporate Dems who say that the party should campaign against renewables and in favor of fossil fuel companies aren't merely climate criminals, they're also bad at politics:

https://prospect.org/2026/06/22/affordability-climate-envioronment-policy-gas-oil-prices-iran-war-trump/

Cleantech is fucking great. Since I put in solar, a heat pump and an induction top, my energy bills have fallen to less than $80 per month, even in Los Angeles, even at the height of summer. My EV – a 7-year old Kia Niro – costs pennies to run, because I charge it off my roof. Not only that, it's fast, maneuverable, silent, and incredibly reliable. It handles like that Mustang a rental agency once upgraded me to. I mean, I'd rather have a subway, but if I have to drive, this is so much better than any ICE car I've ever owned.

Sure, our solar was a giant pain in the ass to get installed and working, but that's because the same corporate Dems who say climate is a political loser also said the best way to roll out solar nationwide was to set up an elaborate system of financialized tax-credits. That meant that every solar installer I talked to was more interested in swindling me by putting solar on my roof that they would own than they were in selling me a system I owned outright. Financializing America's rooftop solar conjured up a vast army of scammers and hustlers who screwed the majority of people they sold solar to, and my installers, Solaredge, were no exception:

https://www.propublica.org/article/missouri-pace-loans

Everything about living in the cleantech future is better. I can boil a gallon of water in under a minute on my stovetop! And it's only gonna get better: not only is cleantech improving every year, but fossil fuel is getting shittier every year, thanks to Trump's lunatic war of choice in Iran, the cost of using fossil fuels will only go up from here:

https://pluralistic.net/2026/04/20/praxis/#acceleration

Look, as a workaholic whose unhealthy anxiety coping mechanism is to work even harder, I might not make the best use of an extra day off:

https://pluralistic.net/2026/04/14/compartment/#flow

But as Pete Seeger sang in 1941, your time is all you have, and every hour you give to your boss is an hour you can never get back:

You'll get shorter hours
Better working conditions
Vacations with pay
Take your kids to the seashore

https://genius.com/Pete-seeger-talking-union-lyrics

It's something Lula understands, which is why he's winning. Good politics are a delight to watch, especially when it's your team doing them. But man, it can be pretty demoralizing to watch your team fumble play after play after play.

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Hey look at this (permalink)

• Arindrajit Dube on Wages https://paulkrugman.substack.com/p/arindrajit-dube-on-wages

• WE WON OUR UNION! https://unitedfaculty-uaw.org/

• Understanding the Luddites in the age of AI https://www.bloodinthemachine.com/p/understanding-the-luddites-in-the

• Promises Made, Promises Kept: The Lincoln Memorial Reflecting Pool Absolutely Looks Like Shit Now https://defector.com/promises-made-promises-kept-the-lincoln-memorial-reflecting-pool-absolutely-looks-like-shit-now

• Why Is It So Bad to Let A.I. Do My Thinking for Me? https://www.nytimes.com/2026/06/20/books/review/the-reverse-centaurs-guide-to-life-after-ai.html?unlocked_article_code=1.rlA.BN8p.23Ho_LuzI-Tr

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Object permanence (permalink)

#25yrsago WWII Online https://web.archive.org/web/20010625120559/https://www.gamespot.com/gamespot/stories/reviews/0,10867,2778704,00.html

#20yrsago Microsoft’s myriad Xbox security mistakes https://web.archive.org/web/20060703000421/http://www.xbox-linux.org/wiki/17_Mistakes_Microsoft_Made_in_the_Xbox_Security_System

#20yrsago Kentucky government censors political watchdog site https://web.archive.org/web/20060628055926/http://www.bluegrassreport.org/bluegrass_politics/2006/06/bluegrassreport.html

#20yrsago Life among the homeless bloggers https://web.archive.org/web/20060702205047/https://www.wired.com/news/technology/1,71153-0.html

#20yrsago Disney, 1939: No woman animators allowed https://animationguildblog.blogspot.com/2006/06/disney-1939-girls-are-not-considered.html

#15yrsago Sick man robs bank for $1, demands jail and healthcare https://web.archive.org/web/20110628144748/https://www.gastongazette.com/news/bank-58397-richard-hailed.html/

#15yrsago Car-racing game on a thermal printer https://www.undef.ch/project/receipt-racer

#15yrsago Toronto police swear off kettling https://web.archive.org/web/20110625131204/http://www.thestar.com/news/article/1012959–exclusive-toronto-police-swear-off-g20-kettling-tactic?bn=1

#15yrsago LEAKED: UK copyright lobby holds closed-door meetings with gov’t to discuss national Web-censorship regime https://www.openrightsgroup.org/blog/rights-holders-propose-voluntary-website-blocking-scheme/

#15yrsago Georgia’s anti-immigrant law leaves millions in crops rotting in the fields https://web.archive.org/web/20110620213900/https://blogs.ajc.com/jay-bookman-blog/2011/06/17/gas-farm-labor-crisis-playing-out-as-planned/

#15yrsago Bagelheads: toroidal saline forehead injections https://web.archive.org/web/20110619033443/https://vicestyle.com/en/news/today/post/japanese-bagelheads

#15yrsago Spitalfields Nippers: East London street-urchins of 1912 https://spitalfieldslife.com/2011/04/02/spitalfields-nippers/

#15yrsago Danish police proposal: Ban anonymous Internet use https://www-computerworld-dk.translate.goog/art/117279/forslag-du-maa-ikke-laengere-gaa-anonymt-paa-nettet?_x_tr_sl=auto&_x_tr_tl=en&_x_tr_hl=en-US

#15yrsago Bell-mannequin for training pickpockets https://web.archive.org/web/20110626045035/http://blog.modernmechanix.com/2011/06/23/amateur-pick-pockets-study-in-crime-college/

#15yrsago Skeptical take on Singularity http://www.antipope.org/charlie/blog-static/2011/06/reality-check-1.html

#15yrsago Windmill joke https://www.reddit.com/r/Jokes/comments/4p8qkb/two_windmills_are_standing_in_a_field_and_one/

#10yrsago Electronics repair shops overbill for labor when the customer has insurance https://arstechnica.com/science/2016/06/computer-repair-shops-screw-over-customers-if-theyve-got-insurance/

#10yrsago Being a Craigslist scammer is hard work https://web.archive.org/web/20160622140008/https://www.infoworld.com/article/3086304/cyber-crime/interview-with-a-craigslist-scammer.html

#10yrsago Dieselgate for GPUs: review-units ship at higher clockspeeds than retail ones https://www.theverge.com/circuitbreaker/2016/6/21/11986836/msi-asus-overclocked-graphics-cards-review

#10yrsago Phones without headphone jacks are phones with DRM for audio https://www.theverge.com/circuitbreaker/2016/6/21/11991302/iphone-no-headphone-jack-user-hostile-stupid

#10yrsago Donald Trump sources $6M worth of campaign expenditures from companies he and his family own https://web.archive.org/web/20160621142100/https://bigstory.ap.org/article/9f7412236962464f9f2c0a8d2696ba25/trumps-campaign-cycles-6-million-trump-companies

#10yrsago Samantha Bee puts the NRA before a firing squad https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-M4qHzd3xfM

#10yrsago Improv Everywhere: asking random New Yorkers to give a commencement speech https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=drvcLC3DuHo

#10yrsago R. Crumb v. D. Trump, 1989 https://dangerousminds.net/comments/robert_crumb_and_friends_flush_donald_trump_down_the_toilet_1989/

#10yrsago Cleveland: “First Amendment zones” will fence protesters far away from RNC https://www.wired.com/2016/06/cleveland-will-create-city-within-city-keep-rnc-civil/

#10yrsago Space botanists are beneficiaries of Canada’s legal weed boom https://web.archive.org/web/20160624043929/https://motherboard.vice.com/read/how-space-technology-will-produce-the-best-weed-marijuana-cannabis-pot

#10yrsago Debullshitifying the EU referendum (radio comedy edition) https://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/p03yylpn

#10yrsago Judenstaat: an alternate history in which a Jewish state is created in east Germany in 1948 https://memex.craphound.com/2016/06/21/judenstaat-an-alternate-history-in-which-a-jewish-state-is-created-in-east-germany-in-1948/

#10yrsago Gun control is a great idea, terrorist watchlists are bullshit https://www.aclu.org/sites/default/files/field_document/2016_06_20_aclu_vote_recommendation_on_feinstein_and_cornyn_amendments_to_h.r._2578.pdf

#5yrsago New Yorkers just missing the subway https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iWh385F5lms#5yrsago
#5yrsago Peloton bricks its treadmills https://pluralistic.net/2021/06/22/vapescreen/#jane-get-me-off-this-crazy-thing

#5yrsago Juul's junk science https://pluralistic.net/2021/06/22/vapescreen/#smokescreen

#5yrsago Improving the ACCESS Act https://pluralistic.net/2021/06/22/vapescreen/#improve-access

#1yrago Daniel de Visé's 'The Blues Brothers' https://pluralistic.net/2025/06/21/1060-west-addison/#the-new-oldsmobiles-are-in-early-this-year

---

Upcoming appearances (permalink)

• Toronto: The Sovereignty Debate (IAB Canada's State of the Nation), Jun 23
  https://iabcanada.com/state-of-the-nation-2026

• Toronto: The Reverse Centaur's Guide to Life After AI (Osler Records/Type Books), Jun 23
  https://www.eventbrite.com/e/cory-doctorow-book-launch-and-talk-tickets-1991501299998

• NYC: The Reverse Centaur's Guide to Life After AI with Jonathan Coulton (The Strand), Jun 24
  https://www.strandbooks.com/cory-doctorow-the-reverse-centaur-s-guide-to-life-after-ai.html

• Philadelphia: The Reverse Centaur's Guide to Life After AI with David Williams (Fitler Club/Philadelphia Citizen), Jun 25
  https://www.eventbrite.com/e/cory-doctorow-book-event-tickets-1990110326559

• Chicago: The Reverse Centaur's Guide to Life After AI with Rick Perlstein (Exile in Bookville), Jun 26
  https://exileinbookville.com/events/50628

• London: Idler Festival, Jul 11
  https://www.idler.co.uk/festival/

• Edinburgh International Book Festival with Jimmy Wales, Aug 17
  https://www.edbookfest.co.uk/events/the-front-list-cory-doctorow-and-jimmy-wales

• Sydney: The Festival of Dangerous Ideas, Aug 23-24
  https://festivalofdangerousideas.com/cory-doctorow/

• Melbourne: Enshittification at the Wheeler Centre, Aug 25
  https://www.wheelercentre.com/events-tickets/season-2026/cory-doctorow-enshittification

• Brighton: The Reverse Centaur's Guide to Life After AI with Carole Cadwalladr (Brighton Dome), Sep 8
  https://brightondome.org/whats-on/LSC-cory-doctorow-the-reverse-centaurs-guide-to-life-after-ai/

• London: The Reverse Centaur's Guide to Life After AI with Riley Quinn (Foyle's Picadilly), Sep 9
  https://www.foyles.co.uk/events/enshittification-cory-doctorow-riley-quinn

• South Bend: An Evening With Cory Doctorow (Notre Dame), Oct 6
  https://franco.nd.edu/events/2026/10/06/an-evening-with-cory-doctorow/

---

Recent appearances (permalink)

• How to Think About AI Before It’s Too Late (Galaxy Brain)
  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SPQNPJ0CEPo

• The future of world governance, with Kim Stanley Robinson (UN Independent Expert on International Order)
  https://www.youtube.com/live/wJvBvYdaAMY

• How to Think About Artificial Intelligence (KUER)
  https://radiowest.kuer.org/show/radiowest/2026-06-16/cory-doctorow-on-how-to-think-about-artificial-intelligence

• The Enshittification of Life, the Universe, & Everything (Luke Savage)
  https://www.lukewsavage.com/p/the-enshittification-of-life-the

• Cory Doctorow's digital jail-break (DW In Focus)
  https://www.dw.com/en/cory-doctorows-digital-jail-break/audio-77414035

---

Latest books (permalink)

• "Canny Valley": A limited edition collection of the collages I create for Pluralistic, self-published, September 2025 https://pluralistic.net/2025/09/04/illustrious/#chairman-bruce

• "Enshittification: Why Everything Suddenly Got Worse and What to Do About It," Farrar, Straus, Giroux, October 7 2025
  https://us.macmillan.com/books/9780374619329/enshittification/

• "Picks and Shovels": a sequel to "Red Team Blues," about the heroic era of the PC, Tor Books (US), Head of Zeus (UK), February 2025 (https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781250865908/picksandshovels).

• "The Bezzle": a sequel to "Red Team Blues," about prison-tech and other grifts, Tor Books (US), Head of Zeus (UK), February 2024 (thebezzle.org).

• "The Lost Cause:" a solarpunk novel of hope in the climate emergency, Tor Books (US), Head of Zeus (UK), November 2023 (http://lost-cause.org).

• "The Internet Con": A nonfiction book about interoperability and Big Tech (Verso) September 2023 (http://seizethemeansofcomputation.org). Signed copies at Book Soup (https://www.booksoup.com/book/9781804291245).

• "Red Team Blues": "A grabby, compulsive thriller that will leave you knowing more about how the world works than you did before." Tor Books http://redteamblues.com.

• "Chokepoint Capitalism: How to Beat Big Tech, Tame Big Content, and Get Artists Paid, with Rebecca Giblin", on how to unrig the markets for creative labor, Beacon Press/Scribe 2022 https://chokepointcapitalism.com

---

Upcoming books (permalink)

• "The Reverse-Centaur's Guide to AI," a short book about being a better AI critic, Farrar, Straus and Giroux, June 2026 (https://us.macmillan.com/books/9780374621568/thereversecentaursguidetolifeafterai/)

• "Enshittification, Why Everything Suddenly Got Worse and What to Do About It" (the graphic novel), Firstsecond, 2026

• "The Post-American Internet," a geopolitical sequel of sorts to Enshittification, Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2027

• "Unauthorized Bread": a middle-grades graphic novel adapted from my novella about refugees, toasters and DRM, FirstSecond, April 20, 2027

• "The Memex Method," Farrar, Straus, Giroux, 2027

---

Colophon (permalink)

Today's top sources:

Currently writing: "The Post-American Internet," a sequel to "Enshittification," about the better world the rest of us get to have now that Trump has torched America. Fourth draft completed. Submitted to editor.

• "The Reverse Centaur's Guide to AI," a short book for Farrar, Straus and Giroux about being an effective AI critic. LEGAL REVIEW AND COPYEDIT COMPLETE.

• "The Post-American Internet," a short book about internet policy in the age of Trumpism. PLANNING.

• A Little Brother short story about DIY insulin PLANNING

---

This work – excluding any serialized fiction – is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 license. That means you can use it any way you like, including commercially, provided that you attribute it to me, Cory Doctorow, and include a link to pluralistic.net.

https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/

Quotations and images are not included in this license; they are included either under a limitation or exception to copyright, or on the basis of a separate license. Please exercise caution.

---

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"When life gives you SARS, you make sarsaparilla" -Joey "Accordion Guy" DeVilla

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ISSN: 3066-764X