This article is part of Cafe, TPM’s home for opinion and news analysis.

President Trump has in recent days doubled down on a September executive order, rebranding Artificial Intelligence (AI) to Super Intelligence (SI). Those unwilling to embrace his preferred terminology — “the highly accepted new and more accurate term,” as he described it on Truth Social — would be deemed “THE ENEMY!” The whole thing may seem on first glance to be silly or innocuous. In reality, however, the rebranding of AI to SI isn’t just about nomenclature. 

Trump has waded into a debate on what the ultimate outcome of AI may be: one in which the world, because of AI, becomes a utopia, or one in which the world becomes a dystopia due to AI.

Beneath the debate over artificial intelligence sits a bigger question about where the technology is going. “Superintelligence” marks the point where AI stops merely matching or beating humans at specific tasks. It describes machines that outthink the best human minds in nearly every field, from reasoning and planning to scientific discovery and problem-solving.

Silicon Valley has broadly divided into two schools over what that transition would mean. On one side are the techno-optimists and accelerationists, represented by figures such as Marc Andreessen and, in a more qualified way, Peter Thiel, who see increasingly powerful AI as a means of breaking technological stagnation and producing extraordinary advances in science, productivity and human prosperity. Andreessen has gone so far as to describe AI as a “universal problem solver,” while Thiel has argued that AI could finally reaccelerate technological and economic progress after decades of relative stagnation. In this view, AI, as it becomes superintelligence, means we are, in simple terms, moving towards a utopian society.

The other school sees doomsday. Its clearest voices are Eliezer Yudkowsky and Nate Soares, whose recent book carries an intentionally unambiguous title: “If Anyone Builds It, Everyone Dies.” They argue that creating an intelligence vastly greater than our own before solving the problem of controlling it could result in human extinction. That concern extends well beyond them. Geoffrey Hinton and Yoshua Bengio, two pioneers of modern artificial intelligence, are among hundreds of researchers and technology leaders who have publicly warned, as I recently did, that mitigating the risk of extinction from AI should be treated alongside threats such as nuclear war.

The underlying fear is remarkably simple: humanity has never created an intelligence greater than its own. If a superintelligent system develops goals that diverge from ours — or simply pursues objectives in ways its creators never anticipated — we may discover too late that being its creator does not make us its master. For this school, “superintelligence” does not evoke abundance or technological liberation. It evokes the possibility of doomsday.

At September’s United Nations General Assembly meeting, President Trump shunned the idea of global standards and regulations. In doing so, he has firmly planted himself in the camp of the utopians who see regulation, especially by a multilateral organization, as choking off the possibility of a utopian techno-state. There are several implications of Trump’s push towards superintelligence but three are especially important to consider.

First, preemptively rebranding AI as “superintelligence” normalizes the danger. When the White House, federal agencies, and the largest tech companies talk about superintelligence as something America should build and lead, the debate shifts. The question is no longer whether to build it. The question becomes how to win the race.

Second, it speeds up that race. Trump says America cannot “stifle” AI because it is ahead of China and must maintain that advantage. For anyone who believes uncontrolled superintelligence could end civilization, this is the nightmare: two great powers convinced they cannot afford to slow down.

Third, it takes some of the force out of the warning. AI safety advocates spent years using “superintelligence” to describe a future threshold carrying potentially existential risks. Trump now uses it as an optimistic label for technologies that already exist. Indeed, his executive order temporarily defines “Super Intelligence” as the very technologies already covered by the federal definition of artificial intelligence. If that usage sticks, saying “superintelligence is coming” no longer sounds quite like an alarm. The president has already declared that its era has arrived.

And then there is Elon Musk. Few people illustrate the tension better. Musk has spent years warning that advanced AI could pose an existential threat to humanity. Yet when Trump inaugurated his “Era of Super Intelligence,” Musk was standing right next to the president. In October, Musk went further, pledging to rename SpaceXAI to SpaceXSI. 

That does not necessarily mean Musk has abandoned his warnings. But it does illustrate how dramatically the politics surrounding those warnings have changed. The question for the doomer camp may no longer simply be whether humanity should create superintelligence. It may be what influence their warnings can retain now that the United States government has made achieving utopia through superintelligence a matter of national ambition.

This article is part of Cafe, TPM’s home for opinion and news analysis.

Donald Trump’s ability to jail millions of people without even a bond hearing depends on what the Supreme Court thinks about one man’s case. 

This book excerpt is part of Cafe, TPM’s home for opinion and news analysis.

On June 25, 2013, the Roberts Court handed down their decision in Shelby County v. Holder. The 5-4 decision gutted the Voting Rights Act of 1965’s “preclearance” condition, which required states and localities with a history of racial discrimination in voting practices to get permission from the federal government before they could change any policy related to their elections. The country had changed dramatically, Chief Justice Roberts wrote for the majority; the “strong medicine” of the Voting Rights Act, he argued, was no longer needed, let alone justified. But Michael G. Miller and I show throughout our new book, An American Problem: How the Country Built – and the Supreme Court Broke — The Voting Rights Act just how misguided that reasoning was. In the parts of the country freed from preclearance by Shelby County, our electoral institutions have grown demonstrably less open to Americans of color.

When Mike and I started working on what would become An American Problem, a promise made by Justice Roberts in Shelby County still held. “Section 2” of the 1965 Voting Rights Act, he wrote — the section containing the tools allowing litigators to attack election laws and policies that disproportionately harmed voters of color ± “is permanent and applies nationwide.” Although the Shelby County majority was happy to invalidate the preclearance regime that June morning, they told the country that tools remained still for removing discriminatory laws from the statute books.

But this is no longer the case.

This article is part of TPM Cafe, TPM’s home for opinion and news analysis. It was originally published at Balls and Strikes.

On Tuesday, October 6, Justice Samuel Alito released So Ordered, his addition to the Supreme Court’s library of vanity books written by justices who decided that their $306,600 salaries are not enough. Alito’s book is particularly unnecessary because most of it is not even original content, but a collection of adapted speeches he’s given since his confirmation in 2006. As it turns out, a lesser-known perk of being a Supreme Court justice is that you can get paid to publish old talking points thrown together by clerks whose names you forgot long ago.

Much of the coverage of Alito’s book is due to ongoing speculation that he could retire soon, ensuring that a Republican president and a Republican-controlled Senate can nominate and confirm his successor. While promoting So Ordered, though, Alito has said that he plans to “serve for a certain number of additional years,” and “intends” to “stick around through this term.” On the one hand, I understand why this is a story; on the other, given that Alito is a lifelong Republican with an alarming history of flying January 6-adjacent flags over his homes, if Democrats take the Senate in the 2026 midterms, I will not be shocked if he changes his mind.

This article is part of Cafe, TPM’s home for opinion and news analysis.

As insurgent candidates offering critiques of the Democratic Party won primary after primary in 2025 and 2026, pundits were left wondering: were the Democrats having their own “Tea Party moment”? Back in 2010, the Tea Party was key to securing massive GOP legislative gains, even as its reactionary edge cost the GOP winnable senate seats in places like Delaware and Nevada.

Progressive triumphs in Democratic primaries during president Trump’s second administration might suggest something similar is on the way. Zohran Mamdani beat Andrew Cuomo in the race for New York’s mayoralty, Abdul El-Sayed’s triumphed against establishment pick Haley Stevens in the Michigan Senate primary, and Graham Platner easily dispatched — despite scandals of such magnitude he would ultimately have to withdraw as the party’s general election candidate — Gov. Janet Mills in the Maine Senate primary. Each candidate offered fresher rhetoric, more ambitious politics, and a critique of the Democratic Party, allowing them to edge out — or in some cases destroy — their opponents. Cue the invocations of the Tea Party and questions about whether or not “the Democratic Party might very well be about to explode.”  

But comparisons between the Democratic Party’s fresh crop of candidates and the Tea Party do not really stand up to scrutiny. Tea Partiers were motivated by an anti-systemic energy that had deeper roots than the current ire of Democratic voters, and the demographics of the GOP meant the party ultimately embraced a “burn it down” approach to governance. The insurgent left within the Democratic coalition remains focused on conventional liberal issues like human rights, affordability, and taxing the wealthy. New, animating issues for voters — such as ending military funding for Israel and harsher regulation of data centers — still do not see voters anywhere close to the Tea Party’s reactionary fervor to remake, or remove, much of the U.S. government. Democratic voters — and the candidates they elect — may find that current leadership is not fit for their objectives, but replacing a few key stakeholders is a different dynamic from the Tea Party’s anathema towards any Republican interested in “normal” governance.

This op-ed is part of Cafe, TPM’s home for opinion and news analysis.

Last week, New York City announced a groundbreaking $131.5 million settlement with DoorDash. The largest such resolution in city history, the case involved over 260,000 workers who were paid late and in some cases not paid at all. 

It also raises the question: If these underpayments happened in New York City, where DoorDash knew it was under scrutiny, what’s happening to gig workers everywhere else when no one is watching?

The census makes politics. Representatives are allocated to states based on the count of the population, and states redistrict their maps accordingly. Thus, it’s perhaps not surprising that different partisan forces work behind the scenes to make census data in their own image. 

In advance of the 2030 Census, the Trump Administration has recently announced that it plans to drastically upend an esoteric set of rules known as the “residence rules.” These are the protocols that dictate who is counted where for the upcoming census. Although Congress is ultimately responsible for overseeing the census and determining the rules, it absconded with that responsibility decades ago. This has created a vulnerability that the Trump administration seeks to exploit. In changing the rules, the Trump administration is hoping to alter the political map. As TPM has reported, civil servants have been ordered to stay silent. 

Data Are Made, Not Found: A Story of Politics, Power, and the Civil Servants Who Saved the US Census tells the story of what it took for dedicated bureaucrats to pull off the 2020 Census, despite a pandemic, natural disasters, financial constraints, and political interference. This book shows what it takes to make the census so that each and every one of us can fight to ensure that democracy’s data remain intact and legitimate. The ins and outs of who gets counted where might seem boring, but this is what makes the process so vulnerable to interference. When the public and our elected officials do not pay attention to details, technocratic moves become a form of policymaking by other means.

This article is part of TPM Cafe, TPM’s home for opinion and news analysis. It was originally published at The Conversation.

President Donald Trump loves a good pardon. His generosity is so well known, in fact, that an industry of lobbyists, lawyers and other insiders has reportedly sprung up to facilitate clemency for wealthy criminals. Clemency, meaning mercy or leniency, lets the president reduce the punishment for, or even forgive, federal crimes.

For defendants hoping to avoid jail and walk away from millions of dollars in financial sanctions, paying, say, $600,000 to a lobbying firm to influence the president may seem like a good investment.

House Democrats recently reported that Trump’s second-term clemency – which includes both pardons, which wipe away every part of a conviction, and commutations, which typically leave convictions intact but shorten a person’s sentence – has saved convicted defendants nearly $1.7 billion in forgiven financial obligations.

Some of that amount – about $700 million – had not yet been officially imposed by courts because the clemency came through so quickly. Much of the remaining $1 billion had been ordered as restitution, meant to repay victims’ losses.

As a legal scholar researching the evolution of modern presidential clemency, I have reviewed every individual pardon and commutation granted by U.S. presidents since 1989, spanning seven administrations, from George H.W. Bush to Trump’s second term. I have found that while other presidents have canceled tens of millions of dollars’ worth of restitution and fines, none of them have come anywhere near the billion-dollar mark – until now.

What is restitution?

The main financial penalties faced by federal defendants are fines, forfeiture – where a defendant has to give up, say, the Ferrari they bought with the profits from their drug business – and restitution.

Restitution is an order to pay back the criminal’s gains to the victims of the crime. For example, if the CEO of a company tricks people into investing $600 million into a hydrogen-powered truck that was never operational, the court may order that, if convicted, he pay back the people he defrauded.

Restitution is rarely able to return all of someone’s lost money, but it is supposed to prevent the fraudster from enjoying the fruits of their crime.

Getting away with it

Since January 2025, Trump has granted clemency to a lengthy list of big-ticket fraudsters, including a cryptocurrency billionaire whose exchange pleaded guilty to anti–money laundering violations and CEOs convicted of payroll tax fraud.

Many of these pardons and commutations have coincided with the use of lobbying firms or generous donations to causes close to Trump’s heart: his inaugural committee, his reelection campaign or MAGA Inc. One successful pardon-seeker’s mother attended a $1 million fundraising dinner.

Clemency seekers use a variety of ways to catch the president’s attention. The end result is that victims of crime – and taxpayers, who have to pay for these huge white-collar investigations and trials – are often left with nothing.

Unfettered power

The U.S. Constitution grants the president nearly unbounded power to pardon whomever he likes, whenever he likes and for whatever reason he likes. This is why, since 1894, the Office of the Pardon Attorney has tried to impose some guidelines on the process and decide which cases should be eligible for clemency at all.

These guidelines generally require that a clemency seeker have been released from prison for five years before they are eligible to request a pardon. If they never went to prison, the five years is calculated from the date of sentencing. Many presidents adhere to this norm: My study shows that between 94% and 100% of people pardoned by George H.W. Bush, George W. Bush and Barack Obama met this criteria. Because he gave so many preemptive pardons, Joe Biden’s percentage was lower, at around 68%, but still well over half.

In contrast, out of the 216 individual pardons granted by Trump in his second term so far, only 34 – about 15% – have gone to people who waited that long.

The money ladder

A look back at recent past administrations shows an erratic but increasing amount of financial obligations canceled. While some presidents have been frugal with their financial forgiveness – George H.W. Bush and George W. Bush remained under the million-dollar mark, while Joe Biden was just over it – others have been less so.

Bill Clinton erased nearly $10 million in fines and restitution through pardons, most notoriously pardoning Marc Rich, a fugitive financier whose ex-wife contributed more than a million dollars to various Democratic causes and the Clinton Presidential Library.

Obama more than doubled Clinton’s record, forgiving $23 million in financial sanctions.

But Trump surpassed them both in his first term, canceling nearly $195 million in financial obligations. The amount of money saved by convicted defendants during his second term is exponentially higher. One could even say that, as Trump likes to put it, “We’ve never seen anything like it.”

A new role for commutations

Since the main function of commutations is to let people out of prison sooner, commutations usually leave financial obligations in place. During his first term, Trump primarily granted commutations that left “intact and in effect” all conditions of a person’s sentence except for imprisonment. This let numerous defendants out of jail but kept them on the hook for nearly $3 billion in fines and restitution.

That has changed during Trump’s second term. Today, his commutations routinely cancel a recipient’s prison sentence “with no further fines, restitution, probation or other conditions.”

This is how, through commutations alone, Trump has canceled more than $300 million in penalties and restitution since he returned to office.

A word of caution

One figure that is unavailable in public records is whether any given defendant has started to pay, or has fully paid off, their financial obligations. So these figures for every administration represent a ceiling: the full amount of fines, restitution or forfeiture that a judge imposed on a convicted defendant. How much was actually paid down can usually only be estimated, though there are exceptions.

For example, Jason Galanis, who pled guilty to defrauding the Oglala Sioux Nation, had paid just over $2 million of his $80 million restitution before his sentence was commuted and the restitution erased in 2025. But we only know that because he unsuccessfully asked the court to return the money.

One useful indicator of how much someone may have already paid is the speed at which they got clemency. The faster they receive clemency, the less time they have to pay off their penalties. The median delay between sentencing and receiving a pardon during Biden, Obama and George H.W. Bush’s administrations was over 20 years.

During Trump’s second term, in contrast, things are moving faster. Trump has pardoned or given commutations to at least 44 recipients within a year of their sentences who together account for over $270 million in financial obligations.

This includes a nursing home executive who pled guilty to withholding his employees’ payroll taxes – which prosecutors said he spent on a yacht – and was pardoned 12 days after being sentenced, ensuring that he could avoid some $4 million in restitution. A crypto company was pardoned hours before it was due to pay a $100 million fine for violating anti–money laundering laws. A digital media founder was ordered to repay defrauded investors $36 million. His sentence was commuted, and his restitution canceled within four months of sentencing.

In these cases, clemency was issued before most of the money was able to reach the government or the victims it was owed to. The faster clemency is granted, the more likely it is that fraudsters get to walk away without paying their victims anything.

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

This article is part of TPM Cafe, TPM’s home for opinion and news analysis. It was originally published at Balls and Strikes.

On the morning of Sunday, September 20, police officers in the Chicago suburb of Evanston responded to a 911 call about a confrontation in the street. When the officers arrived, they found a man on the ground who reported injuries to his head, neck, and teeth. Soon, the officers learned that the injured man was a U.S. citizen, and his assailants were federal immigration agents.

The Department of Homeland Security put out a statement on Tuesday claiming that the beaten man “resembled the target” of an immigration enforcement operation, and that he was “not cooperative” with agents’ investigation. “Once the individual finally identified himself,” said DHS, immigration officers “left the scene without further incident.” 

In Church, Merch, and State, Sarah Posner writes about the intersection of religion and politics in the United States. This column is part of Cafe, TPM’s home for opinion and news analysis.

President Donald Trump’s “border czar” Tom Homan delivered a no-holds-barred defense of Trump’s mass deportation regime at the Georgia Faith and Freedom Coalition’s Victory Dinner in Duluth, Georgia, last week in an event that appeared designed to bolster the campaigns of two major Republican candidates running for U.S. Senate and governor in the state. 

Homan’s speech signaled that an unabashed defense of the administration’s immigration brutality is a key part of its midterm strategy to mobilize right-wing evangelical and Catholic voters to back Republicans. In a surprisingly profanity-laced speech that castigated critics of Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE), including Democrats and federal judges, Homan became another administration official to inject himself into midterms campaigning this cycle, this time to lend a Christian imprimatur to Trump’s racist and violent assault on immigrants.

This article is part of TPM Cafe, TPM’s home for opinion and news analysis. It was originally published at Balls and Strikes.

For months, President Donald Trump has been coping with his myriad failures and plummeting approval ratings by trying to make it harder for people to vote his party out of power in the 2026 midterms. To that end, in March, he issued an executive order that would require the U.S. Postal Service to draft a rule that would upend vote-by-mail procedures in dozens of states, and effectively block the agency from processing ballots that do not comply with the rule’s exacting requirements. Trump did not attempt to hide his motives for doing so: Legal restrictions on mail-in voting, he told Republican lawmakers, would “guarantee the midterms” for a party that is otherwise in danger of losing them badly.

In Rough Edges, Mike Rothschild writes about fringe groups, conspiracy theories and how the Internet broke our brains. This column is part of TPM Cafe, TPM’s home for opinion and news analysis.

The Sept. 11 attacks came during a boom time for conspiracy theories. A vast industry of radio talkers, book writers, and cranks was finding new audiences on the nascent internet and using new technology to spread their messages faster and farther.

This was a new generation of media savvy personalities who knew how to tap into the fears of white evangelicals, revenge-seeking militia members, anti-tax activists, libertarians, Clinton haters, and paranoids on both the far left and far right. Many believed a traumatic event, whether real or “false flag,” was imminent. Some even claimed that the government would perpetrate it, then blame a convenient figure around whom the country could rally its bloodlust and need for revenge.

When it finally happened, though, they were just as baffled and desperate for answers as the rest of us. And they turned to the gurus helping them shape their world views — who were also baffled. 

Three major figures in the conspiracy theory world broadcast live on the radio in those first hours after the Twin Towers went down. They started to solidify narratives that would drive the next two decades of conspiracy theories and myths about the attacks — even as basic facts about what had happened were hard to come by.

This article is part of TPM Cafe, TPM’s home for opinion and news analysis. It was originally published at Balls and Strikes.

Death tends to make people realize things. Unexpected departures from this earthly plane, in particular, can prompt the living to reflect on how to better use the time they have left. Chief Justice John Roberts, who has led the Supreme Court since 2005, received such a prompt in February 2016, when Justice Antonin Scalia died in his guestroom at a luxury ranch resort in Texas. 

According to The New York Times, Scalia died without having told anyone what to do with his papers—drafts of opinions, copies of memoranda exchanged between the justices, notes on the Court’s internal meetings, and so on. If those documents were to become public, they could shed light on the Court’s deliberative processes, revealing, for instance, when and why justices changed their minds, or in which cases their minds were already made up.