Mother Jones

After last month’s No Kings protest, Indivisible, the group that describes itself as a pro-democracy, anti-authoritarian people-powered movement, joined May Day Strong’s actions to take a page out of Minnesota’s one-day strike playbook from this past January.

On its surface, Indivisible’s participation appears to be a slight pivot, engaging in more disruptive labor-directed actions. But for Ezra Levin, the co-founder and co-executive director of Indivisible, May Day Strong is part of their movement—one that can’t succeed without growing its broad coalition. “Society cannot function without workers, and our political system won’t function unless more non-billionaires and non-mega corporations get involved in how politics works,” Levin told me when we spoke by phone on Thursday.

Politics feel brutal for most workers these days. It’s equally hard to measure the impact of protest groups like Indivisible. That’s especially true in a week where the Supreme Court dismantled voting rights and the Trump administration doubled down on its war in Iran despite rising costs and thousands of people killed. But Levin was, at times, evasive about looking too far in the future. For him, it’s impossible to measure the success of a pro-democracy movement on whether authoritarians are doing damage. It’s more useful to measure impact by how much a movement grows and tries new tactics.

This strategic alignment with May Day is an example. Levin was focused on building a coalition now—including opening the door for people who are not advocates or organizers. He also seemed clear-eyed about his group’s role: “Indivisible isn’t the right movement organization to organize the entire country. We are a piece of it.”

This interview has been lightly condensed and edited for clarity.

Where do you think Indivisible’s work stands within the larger US ecosystem of organizing? 

I don’t think there’s a pathway to getting a real democracy that reflects the world of people that doesn’t depend on coalition. There’s not going to be any one organization or any one individual movement that succeeds in significantly changing our political system and bends it to the will of the people—you need to build across coalition. 

For us, that’s core to just about everything Indivisible does. That shows up in the Hands Off coalition that came out a year ago. The Good Trouble Lives On [protests] on the John Lewis Day of Remembrance, and the No Kings coalition itself, which is made up of hundreds members. 

May Day is not by Indivisible and it’s not led by the No Kings coalition. It’s being led by the May Day strong coalition with an emphasis on union participation. You’re not going to build a pro-democracy movement that’s successful without having heavy involvement from union leaders. You can’t succeed in what we’re trying to do without welcoming new members to your coalition and without showing up for them when they’re leading a day of action like tomorrow.

How are you measuring the impact of your work with No Kings, considering we’re in a week where the Supreme Court has fully gutted voting rights?

How you judge the success of a pro-democracy movement is with a couple of criteria: One, are you bigger than you were before? Two is, are you more aligned than you were before? Three is, is the authoritarian regime less popular than it was before? And four is, are your tactics proliferating? Are you trying new things? Are you developing new muscles?

We had three million people at the 1300 Hands Off protests last April. Then for the first No Kings, we had five million people at 2100 protests at the second No Kings. We had 7 million people at 2700, protests at the third No Kings. We had 3300 protests and more than 8 million people, which is to say three of the largest protests in all of American history are in ascending order.

The growth is pretty evident, and I don’t think it’s just us saying that. Some of the experts like Erica Chenoweth who are looking quantitatively at the scale of protests over the course of 2025 and into 2026. It dwarfs what we saw in 2017. The scale of mass mobilization and organizing is historic.

What are the challenges of growing No Kings?

The challenges in growing No Kings are the president repeatedly systematically using the powers of the presidency to go after his opponents. There are challenges of convincing people to care about politics. A lot of people believe that politics is bullshit, that both sides are corrupt, and that the whole system is broken and it’s not worth their time to get involved. That cynicism and nihilism and fatalism about the state of the country and our politics is the primary enemy that we have and the one that we have to slay. Indivisible isn’t the right movement organization to organize the entire country.

We are a piece of it. And if we’re doing our work to build a truly representative and powerful movement, we’ve got to be helping and showing up for other organizations, other movements, went into their time to lead, and I would be May Day tomorrow as an example that, like I said, it’s not an Indivisible action. This is being led by May Day Strong.

What do you think of larger disruption actions formed by coalitions over longer periods of time like the general strikes in India, Panama, and Italy? Do you think that is possible in the US?

In 2025, the regime was targeting the organization of America, which is straight out of [the playbook of] Hungary. One of the lessons of Orbán’s downfall is that the best way to remove an authoritarian is electorally, so it depends on building a mass movement.

When it comes to disruption, you don’t have to look abroad. You can look at the Twin Cities. The Day of Truth and Freedom was a mass disruption event and intended to bring society to a halt. And I think it was very successful. The federal government had to retreat because of the PR disaster as a direct result of the incredible organizing on the ground. If Trump tries to sabotage the midterm elections, you’re going to need something that looks like the Twin Cities but at the scale of something that looks like No Kings. 

Going off what you brought up about disruption actions in the US, what do you think about tactics that try to get around restrictive US labor laws such as the proposed UAW strike in 2028?

I’m one battle at a time right now. There are a lot of questions about what happens in the Democratic primary, how we position ourselves in that race, and what happens if Trump runs again. These are all interesting questions that I look forward to digging into after we crush the regime in the midterms and elect some Democrats who are interested in using the powers of the Senate and the House to prevent the regime from doing more damage and bringing accountability to people who violated the Constitution. That is the single best thing we can do to set up democracy for a successful 2028.

Matt Multari has been driving for Amazon—and organizing with the Teamsters—for about a year and a half. His days are mostly spent delivering packages. But he thinks of his role as a worker-organizer as something much more historically significant than just maximizing delivery efficiency. 

“After the Assyrians lost their state, they survived in their homeland of Iraq for thousands of years. After facing a genocide that forced them to flee that homeland, they went to Russia, and then to Iran, and then some of them went to New York. Now I’m here,” he said. “And I’d like to tell Amazon: fuck you!”

Early on the morning of May 1, Multari took the megaphone in front of a hundred or so sign-toting Amazon warehouse workers, delivery drivers, and software engineers, who had traveled in from Queens and Staten Island to march on an Amazon office building for International Workers’ Day. 

“Each of us here has a story of generational struggle,” Multari, 25, said. But to him, working for Amazon means the obliteration of identity. “Amazon is trying to erase that.” Every day, as he puts on his blue vest and delivers packages from Amazon’s DBK-1 warehouse in Queens, the company surveills him: “You have an app that tells you the exact stop order you’re supposed to go in. You’re under a time quota, basically.” 

If you take too long, or take too many stops, Multari said, the app tells you to go faster. “You get a scorecard every week that says how you’re performing.” Five months ago, Multari and his DBK-1 coworkers unionized with the Teamsters, joining thousands of unionized Amazon workers nationwide. They’ve been able to extract some concessions from the e-commerce giant, though Amazon has refused to bargain with their unionized workers. Nonetheless, during this year’s record-breaking winter storms, they were paid for days they weren’t able to work; and when they needed new hand-trucks, Amazon paid up. 

Amazon holds millions of dollars in ICE contracts.Sophie Hurwitz

Nonetheless, Multari and his coworkers are aware that they’ll have to do much more to win real job security in an age of automation. “Amazon, at its core, is a tech company,” Multari said. “Our main asset to them is our data from our routes, so that it can train its algorithm, so it can make us more and more replaceable.” 

Amazon’s Web Services cloud-computing platform is more profitable than all the company’s retail operations combined. And AWS sells cloud-computing services to clients throughout the American government, including Immigration and Customs Enforcement: According to Forbes reporting, ICE spent at least $25 million on AWS during the second Trump administration. Amazon Web Services also holds contracts with Palantir, the surveillance-tech company behind much of ICE’s deportation operation. (And Amazon has served as an inspiration for ICE, too: acting ICE director Todd Lyons has said he wants deportations in the US to run “like Amazon Prime for human beings.”) 

That’s part of why, at Monday’s rally, non-union tech workers stood alongside unionized warehouse workers. 

Zelda Montes, a former software engineer at Google who was fired in 2024 for holding a sit-in with their coworkers, said they’ve spent much of the past two years trying to help organize tech workers at places like Amazon. With the group No Tech for Apartheid, Montes works to build power within tech companies against the contracts that Amazon and Google hold with the Israeli government. “For a lot of tech workers, the work that they’re doing is helping to create these systems of surveillance that affect warehouse workers, that affect delivery workers, that create more difficult working conditions for them,” Montes said. “So it’s really important for us to be able to unite with them on the labor front.” 

Thousands of Amazon workers are unionized with the Teamsters. The company has spent years refusing to bargain with them.Sophie Hurwitz

At some Amazon warehouses, more than half of workers are immigrants. But Amazon CEO Jeff Bezos has shown no interest in walking back the company’s contracts with agencies targeting those immigrants. “Amazon’s abuse of workers bankrolls their ability to do this,” said Sultana Hossain, an organizer with Amazon Labor Union. So, workers in New York told Mother Jones, they’re going to keep fighting. 

“We will demand the one thing that’s worth fighting for in this life: respect,” Multari said. 

On Friday, Nebraska became the first state to enact Medicaid work requirements, mandatory for states with Medicaid expansion due to Trump’s One Big Beautiful Bill Act. Notably, the state did it seven months before the deadline.

Now, around 70,000 adults below the age of 65 in Nebraska who have Medicaid through its expansion could risk having their health insurance ripped away from them.

Medicaid work requirements do not increase employment. Instead, the administrative burden of work requirements only serves to kick people off this governmental health insurance. Additionally, a majority of people on Medicaid, who are not on Supplemental Security Income, work full or part-time jobs. This underlines how rhetoric around work requirements is just false.

The Center on Budget and Policy Priorities also highlighted that there is not enough time to implement what could be considered less cruel systems for Medicaid work requirements. The center called for work requirements to be pulled, “but short of that, states need more time to ensure their policies, systems, and staffing plans are in place to minimize the number of eligible people whose health care is taken away.” This also highlights the cruelty of Nebraska’s implementation of work requirements before the January 1, 2027 deadline.

Especially because an interim rule from the Health and Human Services Secretary Robert F. Kennedy Jr. is not even due until June 1. I previously raised concerns about what an interim rule could look like from Kennedy:

A person with debilitating chronic pain, or a serious autoimmune illness, may appear “able-bodied” by the standards RFK Jr. appears poised to implement—even as they face hurdles in qualifying for Social Security disability due to not being considered disabled enough. HHS declined to answer a series of questions for this article, instead offering a general statement that the agency “remains committed to protecting and strengthening Medicaid for those who rely on it…while eliminating waste, fraud, and abuse.”

There are some exemptions to Medicaid work requirements, including for people with chronic illnesses and pregnant people. According to Nebraska’s Department of Health and Human Services’ website, the state will be considering work requirement exemptions during checks every six months. There is a list of conditions for people on Medicaid that qualify for people with exemptions, but understandably, not every serious health issue is on there. Notably absent is Long Covid, a post-infectious disease caused by a Covid infection that can very much impact someone’s ability to work.

“I don’t see how any state could protect people with disabilities from these kinds of cuts,” Georgetown University professor Edwin Park told me last year before Republicans voted to enact Medicaid work requirements and nearly $1 trillion worth of Medicaid cuts.

Now, it’s a waiting game to see how draconian Medicaid work requirements roll out throughout the country.

Fresh on the heels of a lackluster Mar-a-Lago “luncheon” party for his struggling $TRUMP meme coin, President Donald Trump appears ready to launch his next crypto-coin-for-exclusive-access project: Trump Coin Club.

In the wake of the Mar-a-Lago bash, the official $TRUMP coin website was updated with a new offer. The details are sparse but apparently meant to be enticing. “MEMBERS ONLY · LIMITED ACCESS,” the site promises. “The Trump Coin Club — invitation-only luxury suites at the biggest sporting events in the world, private dinners, and the most elite and extraordinary experiences.”

There is no information as to what specific “biggest sporting events” that might include. I sent an email to the $TRUMP coin website and the Trump Organization, but no one replied.

The website has a sign-up prompt and what appears to be a mockup of a “leaderboard”—apparently similar to the ranking system used to doll out slots to the top 297 $TRUMP coin holders who were invited to last weekend’s Mar-a-Lago luncheon. Independent crypto researcher Molly White first reported the new Trumpian offer Wednesday evening. While it seems anyone can join can join the Trump Coin Club for free, White writes that the leaderboard “appears designed to rank members by both the amount of the token they hold and the duration they’ve held it.” And the prospect of invitations to “elite” events could be intended to incentivize crypto enthusiasts to hold onto their $TRUMP coins for the long term.

$TRUMP is a meme coin, which means it doesn’t have any inherent use or value—it simply exists as a digital endorsement of Trump, as a concept. If it becomes popular, it can also become useful for financial speculation. But other than a huge spike in price in the hours immediately before and after Trump officially announced the coin’s creation, the price’s trajectory has been almost exclusively downward.

Depending on the crypto exchange you use, the price of the coin was once as high as $74, giving it a $15 billion market cap. But since February, each coin has been worth less than $4. After last weekend’s event at Mar-a-Lago, which Trump attended, the price slipped even further. As of this writing, it is currently hovering below $2.40.

But even with the plunging price, $TRUMP is a great deal for its namesake. The president created the coin out of nothing, so any price is a win for him.

Affordability is the new buzzword. It’s yapped by politicians and pundits across the spectrum. It’s as popular as a new TikTok dance. And it’s genuinely an important and mobilizing concept.

But the truth is, it doesn’t really capture what’s ailing us.

What makes this moment unique is insecurity. Struggling with bills isn’t new to most Americans; what is different today, across lines of social class lines, is the degree of unpredictability that comes with ordinary ways of making a living: ICE grabbing people at workplaces and schools, at bodegas and hospitals, and taking them to American concentration camps; hundreds of thousands of formerly secure, essential federal workers being laid off, part of a Trump administration program of destroying any institution or program that led people to associate government with stability and security, like Medicaid-backed home care and FEMA. And then there’s the threat of AI ending our jobs as we know them.

In this era, instead of walking on solid ground, terra firma, we dwell on shaking, shifting terra infirma. While affordability is a handy reframe of pervasive income inequality—talking about prices and the cost of living, rather than structural forces that stymie mobility, makes people feel less blamed and less-than—it doesn’t cover the gamut of social instability that the last few years have wrought. Call them “economic-plus” factors.

Of course, much of this insecurity has been manufactured by merchants of doubt, the henchmen of an “insecurity-industrial complex.”

That complex is the brainchild, in part, of what former Trump advisor Steve Bannon has dubbed “muzzle velocity,” a rapid political communications strategy that presents a constant stream of wild news events and outrages, shocks designed to both overwhelm the media and put the populace on edge.

It entails the steady downpour of confounding right-wing populist dreck. Bannon described it to Frontline as “three things a day—they’ll bite on one.” When it lands on media platforms, viewers’ fears are then exploited in predatory fashion, for monetary or political gain.

The new insecurity also follows on more than a decade of gleeful “disruption” by Silicon Valley, whose titans have gutted or taken over so many familiar institutions in the last decade that experiences like shopping feel fundamentally less secure, with constant developments like the idea of dynamic pricing in stores, so that budgeting for coffee or eggs feels like playing a slot machine.

On a wider level, it also extends to predictive gambling mega-sites, which monetize the increasingly unpredictable news generated by the White House, benefiting inside traders in government and enabling corporate forces to cash in at scale on our feelings of instability.

Prediction market Kalshi’s co-founders Luana Lopes Lara and Tarek Mansour are now billionaires, according to Forbes; New York University anthropologist Natasha Schull characterizes their platform as “making everything into a set of binary choices” and bettable outcomes, both offering a kind of false reassurance.

The insecurity-industrial complex also includes the nationalist politicians who incite volcanic policy shifts and mass layoffs.

Take Tara Fannon, for years a research director at a consulting agency serving the federal government, responsible for communication outreach across agencies and direct work with veterans. In 2025, her government contracting job was DOGEd into oblivion. Fannon now makes a fraction of her former salary, and her unemployment has run out. At 50, she’s looking for a full-time job and “struggling”—Fannon says “the job market is the worst in my life: an absolute hellscape.” Her health care premiums are colossal.

“For me, ‘insecurity’ is a good word to describe all the ways I feel precarious right now,” Fannon says from her apartment in Brooklyn. “I can’t afford great medical care, and that’s going to affect my health, which causes me to worry and feel more anxious. I can’t afford to go to the gym or eat the kind of food that makes me feel healthy, and that affects me in other ways.”

She didn’t want to take all that turbulence lying down. Fannon started an oral history site interviewing government workers who had been laid off equally unceremoniously. Most, like her, she says, are still unemployed, “patching things together.”

And the war against our security entails crushing reliable government, including funds allotted to the caregivers of our most vulnerable citizens. United Domestic Workers deputy director Johanna Hester is on the front line of that battle. GOP-led cuts to Medicaid, she tells me, have been brutal for her members, who struggle with reduced paid hours as well as the fear of ICE raids at their workplaces. Many make less than $20 an hour and need food assistance from the union; some have been driven to live in their cars, struggling to afford gas.

Terra infirma is also a place where people fear speaking freely. The bravest are those who continue to, like Amisha Patel, a Chicago activist and mother of two who passed away this week at age 50, a month and a half after we spoke. Opposing the second Trump administration while struggling with metastatic cancer, Patel epitomized to me degree of courage that some Americans are showing today, standing up even while they teeter on the personal and political edge.

Before she passed, Patel underwent treatments, hoping to find something that would give her extra time. But by March, she was told she had just a few months to live. Still, when we spoke, she was trying to “show up,” as she put it, for her wife and neighbors in Chicago’s Rogers Park neighborhood amid an escalation of ICE raids.

What kept her together in the last months of her life, in a time of massive turmoil, was the opportunity “to fight fascism.” “It’s easy to be frozen and not to act,” Patel said. I knew what she meant: public defiance was harder in a time of street kidnappings, campus crackdowns, and organized attacks on free speech (of, say, anyone who called Charlie Kirk…well, a Charlie Kirk). “But my disease has shown me that we are not going to have certainty,” she continued—only “possibilities.”

Fannon, Hester, Patel, and so many of us are standing in a frightscape and yearning for security from the political developments that snap at us like carnivorous plants.

I am not the only one who sees our main vibe as uncertainty, anxiety, and nervousness, our mood rings always turning to a muted gray or black. The Urban Institute’s “True Cost of Economic Security” metric, which factors in costs like health insurance, childcare, and retirement, defines 52 percent of US families as financially insecure, many more than define themselves (or are defined by other standards) as poor.

In the age of gig work, volatile income is another source of systemic insecurity around our labor. It makes planning for the future or even giving consistent time to family and other obligations, far more difficult. (No wonder Gen Z, has come up with corecore, a TikTok aesthetic that specializes in confusing, overwhelming juxtapositions.)

So does indebtedness: consumer debt is among the reasons that Americans’ available income has dropped by more than a quarter in recent years, according to political scientist Jacob Hacker’s Economic Security Index. Businesses look to the Economic Policy Uncertainty Index, a financial instrument that tracks the effects of economic instability in the US and twenty other countries, going back to 1900.

Political uncertainty is approaching an all-time high here, says EPUI director Scott Baker, a professor of finance at the University of Wisconsin. Baker believes that insecurity about the future has made “firms and households less comfortable” spending and more likely to reduce consumption, while business have become less productive as a result, leery to make investments or increase hiring.

As Baker puts it, “sudden shifts in policy across a wide range of fields [have] made it hard for businesses and financial markets to know what is coming next.” According to a recent Associated Press-NORC poll, 47 percent of American adults  are “not very” or “not at all confident” they could find a job they would want. That figure was 37 percent in late 2023. 

Of course, the insecurity-industrial complex wasn’t born yesterday: exploiters have been making us nervous for generations. In her 1989 book Fear of Falling, Barbara Ehrenreich wrote about the anxieties of an American middle class barely holding on to its social position by one high-thread-count pillow-set. In the 2009 collection The Insecure American: How We Got Here and What We Should Do About It, nineteen ethnographers parsed how our leaders produce social insecurity, from the war on terror to the war on welfare.

But now that insecurity is everywhere, all the time. As economist Pranab Bardhan argues in his 2022 book A World of Insecurity: Democratic Disenchantment in Rich and Poor Countries, insecurity, rather than poverty or inequality, is our new constant, bringing with it the forces that have caused an erosion of liberal democracy in rich and poor countries alike. As societal uncertainty, both real and manufactured, has risen in countries like the US, India, and Turkey, populists have taken over and tilted the political tables toward despotism, exploiting citizens’ economic and cultural instabilities to get their votes.

What would really restore our sense of certainty? On a governmental level, bolstering the hardy social programs we have, like Social Security, Medicare and unemployment insurance. Paid leave, which I depended on over the last year to care for two family members.

Rebecca Vallas, CEO of the National Academy for Social Insurance, tells me that this is the “moment to return to the moral and even spiritual foundation of the New Deal—the idea that we are in this together—and to carry that further into the next chapter of public policy. The question isn’t whether uncertainty will exist, it’s whether we will meet it with solidarity or fragmentation.”

When I attended a conference Vallas recently organized in Washington on the future of American social programs, attendees struck similar notes, harkening back to that great moment of the birth of Social Security, the New Deal; of Frances Perkins and FDR. But we can also push new policies that have a grandeur of spirit;  some of the threats to our security are too deeply contemporary to do otherwise.

Will we strategize and develop policies akin to universal basic income, updated to account for the six-fingered monster that is AI? An experimental “AI dividend” piloted by the nonprofit AI Commons Project and What We Will proposes to compensate 50 workers who have lost paid jobs or opportunities due to AI to the tune of $1,000 a month for a year, no strings attached. If it works, it will be a new model for basic income set to help the hundreds of thousands who may ultimately lose work due to AI.

And then there’s the personal piece of this: standing up to the insecurity complex, starting to naturalize the term “insecurity” when we talk about citizens’ state of mind, their needs and what informs their political will. I believe that part of surviving uncertainty is framing it, living with it—and acting despite it. Therapists I have spoken to speak of treating patients’ sense of “overwhelming and overweening threat,” in the words of psychologist Harriet Fraad, including fear of the encroachments of AI, while increasingly “unable to afford heat or gas for their car” as a consequence of Trump’s war in Iran.

Fraad tries to make her clients recognize the real culprit: “that their fears aren’t just because of their mother or something” but rather the nature of America today. She tries to ensure that they aren’t blaming themselves for their nerves, personalizing the effects of the insecurity-industrial complex into a singular failure on their part. To these patients, Fraad recommends “not being alone” and embracing “activism, love and solidarity.” 

Similarly, it can’t hurt for us to recognize when we are participating in habits that reflect and exacerbate terra infirma—we can reject predictive betting markets and their janky fake sense of relief, for example, or use tools that strip our feeds of AI slop wherever they find it, demanding a more human internet.

I am trying to acknowledge the political and economic uncertainty and nihilism around me, to live with it and name it. Otherwise, there is always the danger of repression, which leads, according to psychologists, to our splitting into metaphorical parts. The version of myself that tries on tinted sunscreen, makes sure to Docusign contracts, and  watches regional UK TV procedurals late into the night co-exists with the version of myself that is hyper-vigilant to the extreme events that keep unfolding.

In my quest to gain a greater sense of equilibrium, I also look for mirrors of our current precarity. Perhaps weirdly, I find reassurance in poetry reflecting extreme events, like poems composed shadows of the gulag, or one of Jorie Graham’s latest. As she writes, “I/will let go/of the world/as it was/once. It was probably/ never that way.”

This article was produced in collaboration with the Economic Hardship Reporting Project, which supports independent journalists as they forward fresh narratives about inequality. Subscribe to follow EHRP.

In April, the MAHA Mom Coalition, an organization that claims it advocates for “parental rights, holistic health, clean food & water, and medical freedom,” put out an unusual call. They wanted to talk to the farmers who’d been finding mysterious boxes of ticks in their fields—farmers and boxes that, by every available indication, don’t seem to exist. 

“Can anybody reading this right now validate this?” the MAHA Mom Coalition wrote on their Instagram page. “We’d love to connect with and speak to these farmers!!” 

The reason for such a request, as one conspiracist on Twitter explained in a post with over a million views, is with a potential new “Lyme disease vaccine coming out next year,” they “fear our government is going to release plague like levels of ticks upon us in order to incentivize the masses into getting another vaccine.”

The roots of the tick rumors originate, according to the fact-checking website Snopes, with an Iowa woman named Sarah Outlaw. “Something is happening with ticks right now, and farmers are starting to talk,” she wrote alongside a March 30 Instagram video post that’s been watched over 10 million times. “Reports of boxes of ticks being found. Reports of ticks being seen in ways that feel out of the ordinary. At the same time, we are seeing a very real increase in tick populations across our region…in my practice, I am seeing the impact. More Lyme. More chronic symptoms. More alpha gal,” an allergic reaction to red meat triggered by tick bites.

The suggestion that mysterious forces are distributing ticks to give us all Lyme disease keeps spreading.

Outlaw hasn’t provided documentary evidence to support these claims. She wrote on Threads that she heard them at a private seminar in late March from someone familiar with a “rural Missouri community.” But when Snopes reached out to hundreds of public health and other governmental officials in Missouri, they couldn’t find a single person who could corroborate seeing even one box of ticks. Snopes also wrote that in correspondence with Outlaw she “declined to provide us contact information for any involved parties, citing their privacy.” Outlaw didn’t respond to a request for comment for this story. 

All evidence—or lack thereof—aside, Outlaw’s not-so-veiled suggestion that mysterious forces are distributing boxes of ticks to try to give us all Lyme disease has kept spreading. It wasn’t long before people on social media began to connect Outlaw’s claims to a newly developed Lyme disease vaccine from the drug companies Pfizer and Valneva. While the vaccine technically failed a late-stage clinical trial—which its makers attributed to a decrease in Lyme cases during the study period, resulting in less data than expected—the companies still hope to gain regulatory approval and release it in 2027. In a March press release, the companies boasted of the vaccine’s “strong efficacy,” reporting it reduced Lyme cases by 70 percent.

One major vector for the rumors was David Avocado Wolfe, a prominent wellness and conspiracy influencer, who quickly reshared Outlaw’s video on Telegram in a flurry of posts with suggestions on fighting ticks. He also re-shared a different video implying unknown powers are at work, featuring a woman who stares deadpan into camera as text under her reads, “Pfizer’s dropping a new Lyme vaccine next year… And magically, this spring and summer are going to be the worst tick season ever. You’ve seen this playbook.” Throughout April, posts on X making claims about boxes of ticks or casting suspicion on the forthcoming vaccine continued to go viral, with phrasing like “SHOCKING TIMING EXPOSED” and “feds bioengineering ticks to poison us with Lyme disease.” 

A previous Lyme disease vaccine, LYMErix, was pulled off the market in 2002, doomed partly by suspicions from Lyme patient groups that it caused adverse effects, and partly by a weak CDC recommendation that didn’t fully protect it from liability. After a raft of lawsuits were filed against its maker, GlaxoSmithKline, it discontinued the drug. No human Lyme vaccine has existed since.

Ever since, Lyme cases have continued to grow, spurred in part by climate change and other environmental factors that have brought people into closer contact with ticks, which can carry the bacteria which causes the disease. Tick-borne alpha-gal is also on the rise, with its first reported death in November 2025, when a New Jersey pilot who was apparently unaware that he’d been bitten by a tick and had developed the allergy died after eating a cookout hamburger. 

Because Lyme is a frightening and debilitating illness, conspiracy theories about it reliably catch attention. In 2024, Tucker Carlson produced a program claiming that “government bioweapons labs” that were “injecting ticks with exotic illnesses” in the 1960s led to widespread Lyme disease today, a show that has been viewed nearly 8 million times on X alone. In response, Politifact pointed to evidence that not only has the Lyme disease bacterium existed for some 60,000 years, it would make a poor weapon considering its slow spread and low fatality rate.  

Health and Human Services Secretary Robert F. Kennedy Jr. said as recently as January 2024 that he believes that Lyme disease likely came from a “military bioweapon.” FDA Commissioner Marty Makary made a similar claim on a podcast in November; both men have said the disease came from federal research facilities on Plum Island, New York. That idea was advanced in a 2019 book by science writer Kris Newby; the Washington Post debunked some of the book’s claims, including by disputing that a key Newby source was in fact a bioweapons researcher, as he is described. An epidemiologist who reviewed the book faulted it for “hysteria and fear-mongering,” while doing “little to help those afflicted by the disease it preys upon.”  

The legacy of these bioweapons claims lives on. After at least two previous attempts, this year Rep. Chris Smith (R-N.J.), the co-chair of the Congressional Lyme and Tick-Borne Disease Caucus, succeeded in including a provision in the National Defense Authorization Act directing the Government Accountability Office to, as his office put it, “investigate whether the U.S. military weaponized ticks with Lyme disease.” 

With suspicion pressing on Lyme from all sides—from the president’s cabinet and the halls of Congress, to natural health influencers and back again—it’s possible that Pfizer and Valneva’s vaccine will be doomed to death by distrust before it even hits the market.  

Dr. Paul Offit, the director of the Vaccine Education Center at Children’s Hospital of Philadelphia, was a member of the CDC’s Advisory Council on Immunization Practice from 1998 to 2003, when the LYMErix vaccine was considered. 

We “live in a time where conspiracy sells.”

While LYMErix was, Offitt says, “about 75% effective…it was damned by a soft recommendation from the ACIP” which held only that it “should be considered” for people who live in tick-endemic areas or spend lots of time outdoors. Offit had favored a broader recommendation, one which would have seen the shot covered by the National Vaccine Injury Compensation Program. While patient reports of autoimmune issues were never conclusively proven, after only three years, LYMErix was pulled from the market.  

“It was subject to the slings and arrows of outrageous litigation” Offit says, as its manufacturer “tried to defend the vaccine until it was too expensive” to continue, he adds. 

In the intervening years, Offit adds, both “vigorous patient advocacy” and a “whole paramedical community” has grown up around Lyme disease and so-called chronic Lyme disease, in which people believe they have a long-term active infection. While persistent effects from Lyme disease, called post-treatment Lyme disease syndrome, exist, chronic Lyme is not recognized as a medical diagnosis.

Offit thinks more research is needed to demonstrate the new Lyme vaccine’s promise, but is worried about the environment in which it could be released. 

The suspicion bubbling up around the unreleased vaccine, Offit says, precisely calls to mind what has happened to vaccines targeting the coronavirus. “MRNA Covid vaccines have suffered from these conspiracies” about both the virus’ origins and alleged safety issues, he says. “It was very easy to get that bad information out there. So we suffer.”

Outlaw, who works as a herbalist, holistic doctor, and nutritionist, closed her viral video spreading her claims about tick boxes with a call to reach out to her for help: “Comment TICKS and I will send you what we do in our practice to support and protect naturally.”

To those who responded, Outlaw provided a “tick exposure and prevention guide” via DM, centered around a supplement brand called Cellcore, according to a video from by Mallory de Mille, a correspondent for the Conspirituality podcast who often covers wellness scams, misinformation, and purported health trends on social media.

Outlaw describes herself as a “Board-Certified Doctor of Holistic Health,” and boasts of other credentials, including a master’s degree in applied clinical nutrition from the New York Chiropractic College and a certification in health coaching from the Biblical Health Institute. But she is not a physician. What she calls her “doctor’s degree” on LinkedIn came from Quantum University, a holistic medicine school whose two-year doctorate program is not accredited by the U.S. Department of Education. Quantum’s website has a disclaimer stating that its degrees “are NOT equivalent or comparable to” neither a MD or “a Doctor in Naturopathy Degree (ND),” nor do they “entitle graduates to any state, provincial, or federal licensure.”

“Lyme disease takes a huge toll on people in this country and their wellbeing,” infectious disease researcher Laurel Bristow says, with health influencers hawking baseless products adding to the problem. “There’s no evidence that anything they’re selling will reduce your risk of acquiring Lyme disease from a tick bite.”

Like Offit, Bristow—who hosts of Health Wanted, a podcast produced by Emory University’s Rollins School of Public Health—wants to see more research before passing judgment on the new vaccine. But she is also worried about the “pernicious” conspiracy theories it has already engendered: “We don’t want to cast aspersions on a vaccine before we really know what’s happening.” 

Even if the new Lyme vaccine is eventually approved by the FDA, Bristow points out another issue: there is no working “mechanism to review who should be recommended for it.” That step, which helps determine whether a vaccine is covered by insurance and by the federal injury compensation program, is conducted by ACIP. But the panel is caught in an ongoing legal battle as RFK Jr. tries to unilaterally overhaul it and stock it with anti-vaccine fellow travelers. 

Bristow hopes that time and more information about the new vaccine could raise public trust before it might hit the market. “It won’t be available to work for this tick season,” she says. “So hopefully in the intervening time we can have a little more data and feel a little more confident, and by the next tick season we’ll have a good option.” 

Dr. Paul Offit is less optimistic about what might happen in the intervening months, because, as he puts it, we “live in a time where conspiracy sells.”

“I’m not sure what gets us through this,” he adds, with a note of exhaustion. “We’re at a time now—and RFK Jr. is a ringleader of this as a major conspiracy theorist—where people create their own truths, including scientific truths.” 

This story was originally published by Inside Climate News and is reproduced here as part of the Climate Desk collaboration.

Since the start of his second term last year, President Donald Trump has sought to weaken the federal foundations underpinning American science, slashing or stalling research funding, firing or pushing out thousands of scientists, canceling grants for ideological reasons and shuttering research facilities across the country.

But even against that bleak backdrop, the administration’s firing of all 22 current members of the National Science Board last week stands out as “one of the darkest moments” of the past year and a half, said Jacquelyn Gill, a paleoecologist and biogeographer at the University of Maine. 

“It was incredibly chilling, and my stomach just dropped to my feet when I saw that the entire board had been fired,” Gill said. “Because now this last bastion of accountability and transparency and scientific expertise has been dismantled overnight.” 

“It’s not a surprise,” notes one scientist, given the Trump administration’s “continuous onslaught of attacks on science.” 

The National Science Board plays a key role in overseeing the National Science Foundation, a major research funder in fields such as chemistry, engineering, biology, the environment, computing, and technology, which supports academic inquiry and helps train the next generation of scientists. 

The NSB and the NSF were designed to be “driven by our best and brightest scientific experts who are really representing a consensus of where science should go in this country,” Gill said. “It’s not at the whims of whatever president steps into office.”

Created by Congress in 1950 as an independent body of scientific advisors, the board is appointed by the president in staggered six-year terms and chosen for their distinguished service and eminence in their disciplines. Last Friday, members received an email saying their positions were “terminated, effective immediately.” The NSF website now reads “pending new appointments” instead of listing members’ names.

“This board is so important for being able to advise Congress as well as the president on issues that are so important to the country,” said Geraldine Richmond, presidential chair in science and professor of chemistry at the University of Oregon and a former member of the NSB. Richmond was first appointed to the board by President Barack Obama and later by Trump during his first term.

In the wake of the board’s sudden dismissal, experts fear that its members will be replaced with people chosen for their political loyalty rather than their scientific qualifications and who will be focused on short-sighted partisan concerns rather than the greater societal good. 

Because of the board’s importance in the ecosystem that fosters American innovation, observers worry the decision will contribute to a loss of trust in public science and cause long-term damage to American competitiveness in critical research areas and the pipeline for educating and retaining new scientists.  

“As concerning as this is, it’s not a surprise because of what this administration has been doing now” since January 2025, said Carlos Javier Martinez, a senior climate scientist at the Union of Concerned Scientists who previously worked for the National Science Foundation. “It’s a continuous onslaught of attacks on science.” 

In a statement to Inside Climate News, a White House official implied the decision to fire the board stemmed from a 2021 US Supreme Court case related to the appointment of administrative patent judges. 

This ruling “raised constitutional questions about whether non-Senate confirmed appointees can exercise the authorities that Congress gave the National Science Board,” the official said. “We look forward to working with the Hill to update the statute and ensure the NSB can perform its duties as Congress intended. The National Science Foundation’s work continues uninterrupted.”

The “beautiful thing” about the NSF has been its “recognition that science without an immediate benefit or application was worth pursuing.” 

“Like many of the legal claims they’ve made so far, it’s more of a smoke screen than a really plausible legal argument,” said Lauren Kurtz, an attorney and the executive director at the Climate Science Legal Defense Fund. The Supreme Court ruling cited by the White House is “factually, legally very different” from the process governing appointments to the NSB, she said. “I think trying to apply it in this case is disingenuous.” 

The statute governing the National Science Board was updated in 2022, Kurtz pointed out. Martinez agreed with Kurtz’s assessment of the White House’s argument. “It doesn’t hold water,” he said. 

“They’ve basically taken a wrecking ball to this [board], and we don’t know exactly how they plan to rebuild it, but if history is any indication, they will want to put in very administration-loyal, probably unqualified people,” Kurtz said.

“Without that body, really, the agency is now fully at the behest of the White House,” Martinez said.

In Gill’s view, the NSF is already being guided by industry priorities, especially Silicon Valley’s behemoth tech companies, which have tried to win over the second Trump administration with donations and public flattery. 

“Having a scientific enterprise that focuses primarily on the needs of industry just means that we’re losing curiosity-driven science,” she said. That emphasis also shortchanges research, like her own, that focuses on areas industry is typically uninterested in or even hostile to, such as climate change, biodiversity and pollution monitoring. 

The “beautiful thing” about the NSF, Gill said, was its “recognition that science without an immediate benefit or application was worth pursuing.” 

“We studied electricity for hundreds of years before it had any practical purpose. We don’t know what we’re going to be missing out on in the decades and centuries to come because we have hamstrung our ability to do exploratory research,” she said. “You never know what is going to lead to the next breakthrough.”

On Friday, International Workers’ Day, tens of thousands of people across the US will walk out of school, skip work, and refrain from shopping as part of a nationwide economic blackout against President Donald Trump’s agenda. Organizers with the May Day Strong coalition, a coalition of labor unions and community groups, are helping oversee more than 3,500 marches, rallies, and teach-ins. The coalition’s May Day action is inspired by the mass popularity of the Day of Truth and Freedom, in January, when more than 70,000 people took to the streets in Minnesota to demand ICE leave their state.

But are either of these events general strikes? And does it matter?

To better understand this moment, I spoke with Erik Loomis, a labor historian at the University of Rhode Island and author of Organizing America and A History of America in Ten Strikes. We discussed the history of the general strike in America, the legal barriers hindering today’s labor movement, and how workers can use their strategic power to stand up to the Trump administration.

This interview has been lightly condensed and edited for clarity.

What is a general strike, and how does it differ from a typical labor strike?

A regular strike comes out of a workplace. It’s usually affiliated with a singular workplace action by a group of workers who are angry about something going on in the workplace. They’re trying to form a union and the company won’t negotiate, or they have a union and the company won’t come up with a fair contract.

The idea behind a general strike is that the workers writ large, workers generally, will all come together and walk out in favor of some goal—a kind of broad-based revolution. It can be across sectors. Let’s say I go on strike as a college professor because my university is treating me really badly, and the hospital workers also walk out on strike with me. They’re trying to use their influence over their sector of the economy to increase the stress of the conditions so that I can win what I want to win. It doesn’t have to be about the workplace if a bunch of unions come together. Part of what they were trying to do in Oakland in 1946, for instance, was to overthrow the Republican political machine that controlled the city.

Has the US ever had a true general strike? What conditions preceded them, and what were the demands?

Basically every general strike in the US has come out of the established labor movement. We’re talking about Seattle in 1919, San Francisco in 1934, Oakland in 1946, New Orleans in 1892. These general strikes have been attempts by the labor movement that usually come out of a specific workplace issue but then explode as part of a general discontent with the system as it exists at that time—to place pressure on employers, the city, the forces of order.

“If people can use these terms in order to push for a more just world, then that’s a heck of a lot more important than whether it technically is or is not a general strike.”

In Seattle in 1919, it’s very much about employers not raising wages on docks after World War I, and the Seattle labor movement comes together as one to try to force a general increase in wages. In San Francisco in 1934, the longshoremen were led by the famed radical Harry Bridges, who had come out of the Industrial Workers of the World, in an attempt to form a union, which the companies and the police were very strongly resisting. In Oakland in 1946, it starts at a department store and spreads throughout the city of Oakland. In that case, it’s very much also about wages.

These have not always really been that radical. But the second thing you have to understand is that the general strike—or more specifically, sympathy strikes, where you strike in sympathy to try to put more pressure on the employer—were declared illegal by the United States as part of the Taft-Hartley Act of 1947. A union cannot actually legally engage in what would be required to hold a [true] general strike today. They could do it, but they would break the law and face all kinds of penalties for doing so.

Some people were using the term “general strike” to describe Minnesota’s Day of Truth and Freedom in January, and other people were pushing back against that word choice. Is “general strike” the correct term, and how much do definitions matter?

I am one who is a little skeptical about the way this term is being used. I don’t think what happened in Minnesota is a general strike, and I don’t really think what’s going on May 1 qualifies either.

But maybe it doesn’t matter. People are using the terms and the ideas that they have access to through their education and trying to apply them to the presently terrible political situation, and that’s okay. In fact, that’s exactly what people should be doing. Whether or not it is technically a general strike is far less important.

If people can use these terms in order to push for a more just world, then that’s a heck of a lot more important than whether it technically is or is not a general strike.

In 2022, it felt like we were seeing an inflection point in the American labor movement. There were key unionization efforts with companies like Amazon and Starbucks. Do you think that momentum has continued, or has it been really diminished by Trump’s second term?

I think there’s a few things there. One is the anger over economic inequality is very real. I think that hasn’t changed at all. I think we’re seeing that with the increased success of more left-wing candidates in the Democratic Party. Trump may be a liar and a terrible human being, but one of his lies is that he’s good for the working man. A lot of working people believe that because they’re so angry about the system as it exists.

So the economic anger is still very much there. And then every time a union wins something these days, there’s a sort of liberal-left world of writers and readers that want to blow up every single small victory into the revival of the labor movement, and that’s more pressure than it can bear.

We saw this with the Amazon vote, which, let’s face it, was one vote in one factory. We saw this with the Starbucks workers. And we saw this with the successful organizing by the United Auto Workers at that one plant in Chattanooga.

The reality is that the barriers to successfully organizing, in part because of the Taft-Hartley Act, are enormous. The Starbucks workers have done one heck of a job, but what they’re facing is a company that simply refuses to negotiate a contract. The burden to win a union vote and then win a contract is enormous, and if anything, winning that first contract is even harder than winning that first union election, and so companies can wait for years before actually seriously negotiating.

“Labor law is completely captured by corporations, backed by the courts and with the full support of the Republican Party.”

The reality is American labor law is broken. It’s controlled by corporations. President Biden’s idea of the [union-supporting] PRO Act would have tried to reset the playing field on this. But that’s what we need to happen in order to see this kind of energy turn into wins. It really is about political power. The reason that the unions were able to succeed in the 1930s, yes, it was going out on strike and all of the actions they took—but that had happened before.

The difference was massively electing pro-union officials to office, and then those pro-union officials putting the laws into place that create a pathway for those union actions to succeed. You need both the action on the ground, the strike, and you need the electoral side. And we haven’t had that electoral side in many, many decades. And that often has been true under Democrats and is always true under Republicans. So I think the energy is there, and there’s a huge demand for unions. But I don’t think people understand just how hard it is, because labor law is completely captured by corporations, backed by the courts and with the full support of the Republican Party.

I’d like to dive into the Taft-Hartley Act some more. What led to its passage, and how does it shape what’s legally possible when striking today?

First off, the Taft-Hartley Act is one of the worst laws in American history. It continues to severely limit what unions can do today. 1946 is a huge strike year in America. You have all these workers who had struggled through the 1930s and the Great Depression, and even if they’re forming unions, there’s not a lot of money in the economy, so their standard of living is still pretty low.

Then World War II happens, and sure, everybody has a job, but the government’s controlling wages, and we’re not really making consumer goods because everything’s for the war. And so there’s all this massively pent-up demand for increased wages. People want to live a good life, and that’s what a lot of these strikes were about, right? And so it was an enormous strike wave. Over 5 million Americans go on strike in 1946—almost certainly the most in any year in American history.

At the same time, Congress and America generally were moving sharply to the right. We’re seeing the beginnings of Cold War anti-communism, and some unions were led by communists. They were seen now as the enemy, and a lot of employers hated everything that had happened since the unions had started forming in large numbers a decade earlier in the mid-30s and wanted to roll all of that back. So the Taft-Hartley Act bans almost everything that labor unions were able to do to succeed. The sympathy strike is banned. Wildcat strikes—in which you’re under a union contract, but the employer does something bad and you walk out [without a formal strike vote]—are banned.

States were then allowed, through this law, to create the so-called “right to work” laws, in which anti-union states basically incentivize people to not join unions. These have been used in more recent years to try to destroy the labor movement. Taft-Hartley also requires union leaders to pledge they’re not communists, which takes out many of the best-organizing unions in the labor movement [of the time]. It’s a horrible law that continues to have massive impacts on the American labor movement today and goes very far to explain why the movement has become weaker.

It often feels like workers in European countries are engaging in the types of mass strikes we haven’t seen in the US in a long time. Part of it, like you said, is because there’s a lack of the political conditions that that we need to have in the States.

But is there anything else we can learn from other countries that maybe have stronger labor movements?

I think the key is the cultural differences. And this goes back to the mythologies that Americans tell themselves about America: That this is a nation of the individual. This is a nation where you pull yourself up by your bootstraps. This is a nation where the poor man can become rich if he just works hard enough, and all this other bullshit. And you don’t see that in nearly the same kind of way in Europe, in which you have a much more defined system of class consciousness.

Not that European politics are an amazing utopia. But I think it’s always been a challenge in this country to overcome the cultural barriers within the working class that can be this kind of pro-capitalist pathology that lots and lots of people have. And the gig economy, or the rise of Uber, really builds on that—saying, You can make more money by your side hustle.

Racial divisions also absolutely have been a major issue in American labor history. In the past, American workers have often chosen to divide themselves by race. And on top of that, the power of evangelical Protestantism and religion has been a real issue too, in that you have many, many Americans being told messages at churches about individualism, about getting rich, about power structures, about listening to your employer, about obeying. Religion has often been used to crush and bust American strikes as well. So politics is a piece of it, but the biggest difference between here and Europe are cultural issues around class consciousness.

I think a lot of people are looking for strategic actions to take to resist the Trump regime outside of just going to protests and see the general strike as one potential pathway. Given the state of the labor movement, do you think a general strike is the most useful tool to deploy in this moment? Or are there other more strategic pathways?

I think that people want to have one thing that they do and it stops Trump. That’s not going to happen. Everybody’s looking for a shortcut, and I think a lot of general strike rhetoric is a shortcut—if only we come together, we could solve this problem—but I’m not sure that’s really true unless it’s a very real general strike, where the American labor movement leads millions of workers off the job and says they’re going to keep it up for days with clear demands against an anti-worker Republican Party.

Unfortunately, the labor movement is doing nothing. A few unions are even Trump-supportive. The labor movement as an actual organized movement continues to not rise to the occasion. Some state federations have done a pretty good job, but at a national level, it’s been very poor.

So in the absence of that strong labor movement, what do we have?

We have people doing the best they can. And I think that that’s really noble in its own way. We can’t just snap our fingers and stop Donald Trump, and I think this is where learning from other historical movements really makes a difference— thinking about the ways in which people were organizing in the American context in tremendously difficult conditions.

We’re talking about civil rights organizers from the 1920s through the ’50s and ’60s pushing back on Jim Crow. We’re talking about the early organizers in the gay rights movement in the ’70s and ’80s, and the hate and murderous violence that they faced. These are people that we could be inspired by. It might not happen overnight, but we have to understand that struggle happens over the long term, and we have to commit ourselves to that struggle and continue to try to move these conversations forward through our actions, through our organizing.

Whether or not what’s happening on May 1 is a general strike, people using those terms to come together and try to put more pressure on a terrible situation is really a positive thing. And people should take heart from whatever happens out of that and use it as the next moment to continue to build the struggle.

Did you know there is a second-term Republican congressman from North Carolina named Chuck Edwards who owns six McDonald’s franchises? I certainly did not. Neither, for that matter, did his constituent, Leslie Boyd—until she received a letter notifying her that she was now banned from all of them. The Assembly‘s Jessica Wakeman has the full story, featuring an interview with the offending constituent, Leslie Boyd. A Republican congressman banning his own constituent from McDonald’s for protesting his vote to cut SNAP benefits? I’m not sure I’ve ever seen a more House Republicans story than this.

It has always perplexed me that the Supplemental Nutritional Assistance Program (SNAP)—known colloquially as food stamps—doesn’t allow recipients to use the benefit to purchase hot food items at grocery stores.

Bread, steak, fish, potato chips, bananas and nearly every other food item lining the shelves? Sure. The ready-made rotisserie chickens, mac-and-cheese, or mashed potatoes on warming racks near the check-out? Nope.

According to the US Department of Agriculture, which administers the program, nearly 80 percent of SNAP households include a child, an elderly individual, or someone with a disability—families that would plausibly benefit from having affordable and efficient meals and side dishes as dinner options. Until now, it’s been a no-go.

However, there was a tender development in the US House of Representatives on Thursday, when the legislative chamber voted to include an amendment on their broader $390 billion Farm Bill package that redefines “food” from an earlier law as to include rotisserie chicken. (The other hot-and-ready dishes weren’t lucky enough to be included.) Before being folded into the Farm Bill, the idea was most recently touted as a stand-alone bill, the aptly named “Hot Rotisserie Chicken Act” by a bipartisan group of Senators earlier this month.

While the legislation still needs to move through the Senate, the House passed the Farm Bill mostly along partisan lines, 224-220. Just 14 Democrats joined their Republican colleagues in supporting it.

You may be wondering what kind of monster would want to deprive a SNAP households—75 percent of which live below the poverty line—of such a convenient delicacy. But to vote for the rotisserie chicken would have meant to vote for other components of the Farm Bill, too. Namely, $187 billion in cuts to the SNAP program.

That part wasn’t as appetizing to most House Democrats.

Daniel Reilly takes 19 pills in the morning and 13 at night. He lives with hemophilia and HIV, which he contracted in the 1980s. No one expected him to live this long.

In most respects, that’s a blessing—the product of generations of extraordinary medical advances. But it also means there are entire medical specialties he can’t find.

 “I don’t know if there’s such a thing as [a] geriatric hematologist,” Reilly, who is 58 and retired, told me: a physician who would know what it means to age as a person with HIV contracted through a blood transfusion, with an understanding of the effects of decades of antiretroviral therapy on the body and blood—or how HIV-related comorbidities interact with the normal processes of getting old. Reilly recognizes how new, and unusual, his situation is: “The vast majority of us”—HIV-positive people with hemophilia—”who were infected in the early ‘80s have passed,” he said.

Reilly’s situation is emblematic of a gap in the medical infrastructure: a generation of people who, amid a variety of expanding and improving treatments, are the oldest ever cohort with their conditions. HIV patients, like Reilly, are a significant part of that. So are some with severe traumatic brain injuries, like social worker Brason Lee. Then there are the growing lifespans of those on dialysis, like retired judge advocate general Evelyn Dove Coleman, whose Air Force service also led to the inner ear disorder Menière’s disease.

As people with complex immune and neurological conditions age into their 60s and 70s, their lifespans are now often extending beyond the expectations of their doctors—and the design of the systems meant to support them. Health care professionals in most fields typically receive little training in disability, less in aging, and virtually none at the intersection of the two. And as federal Medicaid cuts reduce access to the home-and community-based services some aging disabled people depend on, many rely for their survival on networks of personal connections: siblings, spouses, neighbors.

Attacks spearheaded by RFK Jr. and Russell Vought strike at the kind of research that has let people like Daniel Reilly live far longer than anyone expected.

I spoke with Reilly; Lee, who is 63; and Coleman, who is 72—all of whom have lived with significant disabilities since before the age of 50—about their lives and their intricate medical realities, which involve both their disabilities and the normal processes of aging. All three were able to work: Reilly largely on the business side of specialty pharmacies, Lee in social work, Coleman as an attorney and JAG. They are navigating what it means to age into a system that, in many respects, wasn’t built with them in mind.

In 1986, when Reilly was diagnosed with HIV, the condition as he put it, “a death sentence.” He was 20. The stigma was unfathomably high. There was no approved treatment. He had contracted it through a blood transfusion for his hemophilia; he also contracted hepatitis C, since resolved, in the same way. “It was just kind of numbness and disbelief, because it all just kind of unfolded so quickly,” he said. Growing old with HIV—let alone getting married and having an HIV-negative child—seemed very unlikely.

Daniel Reilly (center, with wife Jacque, right, and daughter Liv) contracted HIV when it was a “death sentence.”Courtesy of Daniel Reilly

The world has transformed for people with HIV. For those with access to treatment—in many cases endangered by the expiry of enhanced Affordable Care Act tax credits and by the rise of Medicaid work requirements—it’s now often a chronic condition rather than a fatal one. I spoke with Todd Brown, a physician and researchr who runs a lab at Johns Hopkins University examining the health of those living with HIV. 

“In the mid-to-late ‘90s, good antiretroviral therapy became available, and so people are living longer, which is great,” Brown said. “But what we’re noticing is that people living with HIV have a higher burden of many common comorbid diseases, things like cardiovascular disease, liver disease, diabetes, lung disease, and the list goes on and on.” In Reilly’s case, the list includes Type II diabetes and chronic kidney disease.

Reilly’s search for a geriatric hematologist speaks to a less unusual predicament: a medical profession that has not caught up with its own patients.

Reilly is acutely aware of what his survival has required. During his daughter’s university homecoming, he fell and “crushed my left kneecap and broke my left elbow,” Reilly said. “For 12 weeks, I was in a stabilizer where they were waiting for the bone to grow back together…and my wife was there the entire time taking care of me. I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for my wife. I really would not.” 

His daughter Liv, who lives with her own chronic illness, has benefited from Reilly’s decades of hard-won knowledge. “He really has been sort of a guide on how to gracefully deal with it to the best of his abilities,” she told me.

Brason Lee’s introduction to life with a disability was sudden. At 18, he was riding his motorcycle without a helmet in San Diego when an accident left him in a coma for a week, in the hospital for a month, and with a severe traumatic brain injury for the rest of his life. He spent more than a year in intensive rehabilitation and many more months in and out of different types of therapy.

“When I first met my speech therapist, she said that I couldn’t write a complete sentence,” Lee recalled. Even that ultimately took him more than six months.

Lee went on to pursue an undergraduate degree, then a master’s, facing tremendous cognitive challenges and lifestyle adjustments on the way; he took seven years to complete his bachelor’s degree. Lee nevertheless excelled in internships and found steady employment as a social worker. But he didn’t marry until 40 and was, for much of that time, deeply lonely.

Now 63, Lee has developed a set of strategies for navigating daily life with his injury. He employs text-to-speech software to read documents aloud, tools designed for blind users that turn out to be tremendously valuable for people in Lee’s situation—and which did not exist in anything like their current form when he was first injured. And he relies on his wife, Ling, to organize other elements of his life.

A motorcycle accident as a teenager left Brason Lee with a severe brain injury for the rest of his life.Colleen Ibarra Photography

But Lee now confronts newer cognitive issues, and faces fresh difficulties in trying to understand which stem from regular aging and which are long-term consequences of his traumatic brain injury. The difference in best-practice treatment could be major. But—not unlike Reilly’s challenge around geriatric hematology—the medical expertise simply is not there yet. It’s a distinction his doctors cannot yet make clearly, in which respect Lee is left waiting for new generations of researchers and physicians to develop answers. 

A traumatic brain injury “is really one of probably lots of factors that go into developing aging, or dementia, or behavioral concentration problems down the line,” said Jared Knopman, a neurosurgeon at Weill Cornell Medicine in New York. “It’s really hard to narrow down this causative effect of TBI and aging.” Most research on traumatic brain injuries and aging focuses on people who sustain them when older, leaving a significant gap in understanding the long-term trajectory of people like Lee, who have lived with severe cases for decades.

“In health care in particular, there is very limited education or training of any professional at any level of care specific to aging. And there’s very, very little specific to disability.”

Coleman, the former judge advocate general, faced prolonged noise exposure at her Air Force base. That led to Menière’s disease, eventually resulting in deafness in one ear. Her experience with hearing-related disability as a veteran is far from unique: Approximately 1.3 million veterans receive compensation from the Veterans Administration for hearing-related disabilities. “Most of these veterans have a hearing loss that’s not only difficulty hearing soft sounds, but also not being able to listen to speech and engage in conversations and environments that are most important to them,” said Victoria Sanchez, a clinician-scientist in the University of South Florida’s Department of Otolaryngology. Those difficulties are associated with loneliness and social isolation—which in turn is linked with accelerated aging. 

Coleman knows that Menière’s also puts her at risk of falls, another major concern for aging adults. But that has nothing on her experience with kidney disease, for which Coleman received a kidney transplant in late 2024. Life expectancy for dialysis, which she requires, has risen significantly in recent years, from well under a decade to as much as 30 years.

Still, said Coleman, who used to run five-kilometer races, “You can’t be carefree and just run around and do what your mind wants to do. You have to follow what your body is able to do.”

That’s made possible for Coleman above all by her sister, Dee, who moved to Coleman’s home in North Carolina to help care for her, managing her medications and providing the daily oversight that Coleman’s medical situation requires; by her brother, Bill, who credits their walks with keeping his sister’s spirits up when they’re together; and by her faith and community volunteer work.

Retired Air Force judge advocate general Evelyn Dove Coleman celebrating her birthday.Courtesy of Evelyn Dove Coleman

The support networks that Reilly, Lee, and Coleman rely on are not incidental to their survival. They don’t lack for community. (All three also have meaningful relationships with their adult children.) But many disabled people do experience gaps in community that could be substantially addressed—and in other contexts has been—with more robust federal and local support for social services. It’s a structural failure in particular for people who, like them, contend with complex medical needs. 

Michelle Putnam, director of the Gerontology Institute at the University of Massachusetts, Boston, described a compounding dynamic: many disabled people are excluded, earlier in their lives, from environments where adult relationships are normally built. 

“One of the challenges for anyone growing older is sort of when you leave the sort of common pathway, whether it’s education or work, you sort of move outside of formal groupings,” Putnam said. “And for younger people with disabilities, they may have had difficulty getting into those pathways in the first place because they didn’t have employment or had trouble having access into groups and organizations.”

For aging people with multiple disabilities, that can mean a more limited social fabric at exactly the time when it’s most needed. That Reilly, Lee, and Coleman are, in important ways, exceptions to that rule is partly why it was possible to talk to them at all: they have strong ties that let them manage their conditions exceptionally well, and that have helped them beat the odds.

The underpinning of future breakthroughs is being dismantled.

The data for the wider population is less promising. Not only is social isolation linked to accelerated aging, with physical inactivity (which many disabilities compel) and disrupted sleep (which many disabilities cause) among the contributing factors, but adults in the United States already face exceptionally high levels of loneliness: around one in three US adults between 50 and 80 reported a lack of companionship, in a society that is unaccommodating of informal networks of care. 

For disabled people, finding community can be exceptionally difficult—the product of inaccessibility, difficulty with transit and commutes, and rising sentiment against, or simple failure to create, the kinds of remote activities that became commonplace during Covid stay-at-home orders.

“Social isolation and loneliness are recognized as a national and global public health concern, adversely impacting physical, cognitive, and mental health, quality of life, health care expenditure, and longevity across the lifespan,” said Cecilia Poon, a geropsychologist and the chair of the American Psychological Association’s committee on aging.

Senior centers, a legacy of the Johnson administration’s Great Society initiative, address some of those needs: training for caregivers, support with public benefits, and potential training sites “for health education and caregiver support programs,” Poon said. But the overall gap in community support for aging disabled people is matched by gaps in how the health care system itself is equipped to treat them.

“What we can say pretty clearly is that in health care in particular, there is very limited education or training of any professional at any level of care specific to aging,” Putnam told me. “And there’s very, very little specific to disability.”

There is also, she said, inadequate research on how disabled people who have been disabled since before age 50 are faring in the health care system and what their specific needs are. Reilly’s search for specialties like geriatric hematology is part of a wider predicament: a medical profession that has not fully caught up with its own patients.

That deficit ties back to a broader dynamic examined in a 2024 study in the journal Gerontologist: the link between ageism and ableism. Surveying nearly a thousand people, researchers found that ageism was associated with ableism, including among older adults who had internalized ageist beliefs about themselves. Positive feelings toward older adults were associated with lower rates of ableism—suggesting that those forms of discrimination are mutually reinforcing, and that efforts to reduce one may help reduce the other.

“Public policy initiatives to address community-level interventions and targeted training to inform discourse about ageism and ableism are critical,” the researchers wrote. That intersection may also help explain why some aging disabled people do not identify as part of the disability community at all.

The population at stake is not small. According to the Census’ 2024 American Community Survey, more than 7.5 million people living outside of institutions over the age of 65 have a disability that makes living independently difficult, over a tenth of that age group. As disabled people with complex health issues live longer, that number will grow. And it will grow during a period when home- and community-based services will be cut across every state as a consequence of sweeping attacks on, and reductions to, Medicaid services.

Then there’s the cost of being disabled. What the disability community calls the Crip Tax is already a constant pressure: mobility devices that insurance won’t cover, cumulative costs of medications, like the more than 30 that Reilly takes, and transit services like rideshares for those who need them. Many disabled people, as Rebecca Cokley wrote in the Nation, are forced to work until they die, purely as a consequence of the cost of living. Those systemic issues are daunting and arguably disabling in themselves.

All the while, biomedical research is being cut by the Department of Health and Human Services under Robert F. Kennedy Jr., and elsewhere in the administration by Office of Management and Budget director Russell Vought, among others in the Trump administration. Their attacks strike directly at the kind of research that has made it possible for people like Reilly to live far longer than anyone, themselves included, were led to expect. The underpinning of future breakthroughs is being dismantled.

Still, for Reilly’s wife, Jacque, who has been with him since the early 1990s—in a life made possible by radical medical progress—those existing wins are a source of hope: “a vision for the future of what could be possible,” in her words.

Those breakthroughs require a health care infrastructure designed to preserve and build on them, with professionals trained to treat the people who benefit from them, and support networks that are better-funded and less at the mercy of election cycles. Living for decades with conditions like Reilly’s is no longer unimaginable. In a growing number of cases, it is simply what aging looks like, amid systems that have yet to adapt.

This article was written with the support of a journalism fellowship from the Gerontological Society of America, the Journalists Network on Generations and the John A. Hartford Foundation.

On Wednesday, the Supreme Court dealt a death blow to the country’s most important civil rights legislation, the Voting Rights Act of 1965—the law that defeated Jim Crow.

For 100 years, from 1865 to 1965, Black people were systematically and actively excluded from participation in American democracy through racial violence, but more commonly through race-neutral tricks like poll taxes and grandfather clauses. Governments across the country also used redistricting to dilute the Black vote without ever having to talk about race explicitly.

That’s what Section 2 of the Voting Rights Act, enacted federally, went after: The slippery tricks deployed to destroy the political power of Black folks and other people of color—especially in the South.

And the Supreme Court just took us right back to that time.

The majority opinion in the case, Louisiana v. Callais, struck down the creation of a second majority-Black congressional district in Louisiana. In so doing, the court rendered Section 2 of the VRA basically useless, making it nearly impossible to prove that a gerrymandered map violates the right of voters of color.

As soon as this decision dropped, I knew exactly who I wanted to talk to. My colleagues Ari Berman and Pema Levy are two of the sharpest minds reporting on voting rights and the Supreme Court in the country. And they were clear: This is bad. “Today is so heartbreaking because we’ve been writing about this for so long,” Pema told me. “And this just really feels like the final nail in the coffin.”

“When we weaken the Voting Rights Act, we don’t just weaken one law,” Ari agreed, “we weaken the very fabric of American democracy.”

The two went on to explain the staggering potential costs of the decision. “Who needs poll taxes and literacy tests if you have partisan free for all?” Pema explained. “If your partisan designs trump everyone else’s rights, then you can just, under the guise of partisan gerrymandering, eliminate the voting rights of minority voters simply because they don’t vote for your party. It is absolutely a Jim Crow tool now.”

“We could see the largest drop in Black representation since the end of Reconstruction,” Ari warned. “We could lose a third of the Congressional Black Caucus.”

Our sobering conversation about the Supreme Court, the Voting Rights Act, and the future of multiracial democracy is above. I got a lot out of this, and I hope you do too.

OpenAI admitted it had to develop a specific instruction in the code of its latest model of ChatGPT to stop it from repeatedly referencing “goblins, gremlins, and other creatures.”

In an explanation posted on Wednesday, the company said the “strange habit” came from its chatbot personality feature—specifically for users who chose the “Nerdy” personality. According to OpenAI, this personality receives the following prompt from its system: 

You are an unapologetically nerdy, playful and wise AI mentor to a human. You are passionately enthusiastic about promoting truth, knowledge, philosophy, the scientific method, and critical thinking. […] You must undercut pretension through playful use of language. The world is complex and strange, and its strangeness must be acknowledged, analyzed, and enjoyed. Tackle weighty subjects without falling into the trap of self-seriousness. […]

OpenAI said it first noticed the trend last November and some users said they found increased “goblin” references over newer model releases, even beyond the “Nerdy” personality. 

Some exact quotes that users reported:

• “sensible little goblin”
• “because ovens are filthy little goblins.”
• “Brutal little goblin of a dynamic” 
• “Tragic little digital swamp creature”

Through “reinforcement learning,” where the chatbot accounts for whichspecific responses receive high rankings from human evaluators in terms of accuracy and quality, the “playful” responses performed better.

As Wired first reported on Tuesday, the latest ChatGPT model, released last week, included the instructions: “Never talk about goblins, gremlins, raccoons, trolls, ogres, pigeons, or other animals or creatures unless it is absolutely and unambiguously relevant to the user’s query.” OpenAI did not immediately respond to Wired’s request for comment but the same day the report was published, Sam Altman posted a meme on X, making light of the situation by joking that the upcoming GPT-6 would have “extra goblins.”

pic.twitter.com/PR7C3NPxqk

— Sam Altman (@sama) April 28, 2026

After the company explained its troubleshooting process and how it implemented the override instruction to reduce goblin-related outputs the next day, it stated in its Wednesday post that “taking the time to understand why a model is behaving in a strange way, and building out ways to investigate those patterns quickly, is an important capability for our research team.”

The explanation may bring to mind how Elon Musk’s Grok chatbot repeatedly brought up “white genocide” in South Africa. Although xAI stated that Grok’s responses were due to an “unauthorized modification” from an employee, chatbot models should not be that easily manipulable if user safety was an actual concern. 

Despite all this, the company is pushing for less regulation of its products while simultaneously acknowledging that it is still learning how its chatbot models work. As I wrote on Monday, Sam Altman and OpenAI have publicly wiped their hands of the detrimental effects their products are costing people now and have demonstrated a blatant disregard for potential lasting impacts.

A true embrace of goblin mode.

In a brief ruling late on Wednesday, a Texas appeals court panel declined to immediately turn over Infowars, the conspiracy empire founded by Alex Jones, to a federal receiver, pending further court proceedings. That receiver had previously signed a deal with the satirical news site The Onion to take over Infowars’ physical and intellectual property; the emergency ruling puts that plan in jeopardy. The stay was first reported by Ben Mullin, a media reporter at the New York Times. The ruling does not, however, save Infowars, which is expected to stop broadcasting today, because no one is currently paying the rent. Jones said in a video posted on X that April 30 would likely be the company’s last day of operation.   

Global Tetrahedron, the company who owns The Onion, announced earlier this month that they’d reached an agreement with the federal receiver overseeing Infowars, Gregory S. Milligan. The terms of that deal would allow a new LLC created by Global Tetrahedron to lease Infowars’ physical studio as well as its intellectual assets, but at the time, the plan still needed to be agreed to by a judge. In a motion last week, attorneys for Milligan said that the Sandy Hook families, to whom Jones and Infowars owe more than $1 billion in defamation judgments, support the plan. The Infowars studio rent, per the motion, costs $81,000 each month. 

The Sandy Hook families have not yet been paid a dime of what they are owed. 

On Thursday, Jones said on X that the receiver was no longer paying the rent or any other bills associated with the property. Jones has vowed for years that if Infowars is ever shut down, he’ll immediately begin broadcasting at a new studio; he’s also been selling products on a new site, Real Alex Jones, and encouraging supporters to donate money to him there to keep him on air. On Wednesday night, he celebrated the ruling on X, writing, “We Give Thanks To God and Infowars’ Supporters For Standing Against These Pathetic Weasels.” He also directed listeners and viewers to a new website, while stressing that the new site “was not Infowars.”

“I am the Infowar,” he declared. “You are the Infowar.” True to form, Jones then went on to falsely claim that the FBI and CIA were secretly behind the original civil lawsuits filed against him and the company. 

This is the latest development in Jones’ and Infowars’ ongoing legal sagas, after the company lost a series of defamation lawsuits by default in both Texas and Connecticut. The suits were  brought by the families of children and school personnel who died at Sandy Hook. Jones maintained for years that the shooting, as well as numerous other mass casualty events, were hoaxes. He’s inconsistently admitted that he was wrong in making those claims. Jones and Infowars both filed for bankruptcy protection in 2022; since then, the Sandy Hook families have not yet been paid a dime of what they are owed. 

In a statement on Bluesky, Onion CEO Ben Collins said the Texas ruling had “created… an unprecedented situation” where “no one knows who is in charge of InfoWars, and therefore no one can pay rent.”

“Since no one controls these assets right now, it does appear InfoWars will shut down tonight at midnight,” Collins continued, adding that the Sandy Hook families are seeking relief in several different courts. “We’re hopeful they will resolve this immediately so we can take over and pay these families.” 

Over the last few months, Trader Joe’s has pulled thousands of cases of focaccia bread and frozen fried rice from its shelves for potentially having fragments of metal or glass, respectively. If that makes you a little nervous about stocking up on other TJ favorites like cookie butter and Everything But the Bagel crackers, you’re not alone. (Trader Joe’s website notes that the company takes “these matters seriously—personally, even.”)

Monti Carlo, a chef who breaks down food recalls on her Substack, told me in November that at one point during the fall, it felt like there were too many recalls for her to keep track of. There was a listeria outbreak in prepared pasta meals, an infant botulism outbreak in ByHeart whole nutrition infant formula, and a recall of certain corn dogs and sausage-on-a-stick products for potential pieces of wood in the batter. “You have to ask yourself, ‘What is going on?’” Carlo said. 

According to experts, the answer is complicated. For the past year especially, food safety has been in turmoil. 

Last fall, the 43-day government shutdown led to the furlough of over 30,000 employees at the Department of Health and Human Services, stalling public health communications from the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention and delaying inspections of food facilities. Then there was the Trump administration’s layoff of 3,859 FDA and 2,499 CDC employees by the end of 2025, as part of Secretary Robert F. Kennedy Jr.’s restructuring of the Department of Health and Human Services in accordance with the DOGE effort to cut costs. 

Firing all the epidemiologists wouldn’t get rid of foodborne illnesses, it would just stop us from knowing about them.

While it isn’t totally clear yet how the shutdown and layoffs will affect the food safety system, when a system on the brink loses thousands of workers, it creates fractures in an already delicate food system. In a March 2025 Consumer Reports article, food safety experts in and outside the agency agreed “that the food program’s budget was already inadequate to carry out the amount of oversight required even before the new administration took over.” 

For animal products like meat and poultry, food safety regulations are created and maintained by the USDA Food Safety and Inspection Service, while the safety of all other food products is overseen by the Food and Drug Administration. Many USDA facilities are under continuous inspection, but the FDA may visit each facility only once a year, leaving much of the daily oversight to food manufacturers. State and local health agencies may be the first to identify cases of illness and determine the cause to be foodborne. Sometimes the FDA will delegate food manufacturer inspections to these agencies, but its main purview is typically the inspection of the retail food industry. When illness cases in different states are linked, the CDC will often get involved to coordinate an investigation and contact the appropriate agencies once an issue is identified. 

It’s a fragile system that becomes even more tenuous in situations like last year’s multistate listeria outbreak in prepared pasta meals. Donald Schaffner, an extension specialist in food science and professor at Rutgers University, recalled how that outbreak was an eye opener because it happened at a company making fresh pasta for meals, which made it an FDA-regulated company, but because the pasta might have been used to make a fresh or refrigerated entree that has meat in it, that became a USDA issue. They were still able to unravel the threads, but it showcased just how intertwined, and occasionally arduous, the system oversight can be. 

The ultimate hope is that with these overlapping systems in place, all food will be safe, but it’s not perfect. It’s unnerving to have to worry about whether the food you’re eating is safe, and most foodborne illnesses are identified first by the consumer—once they’re already sick.

“We have recalls as a last recourse. Everything else that we need to do in order to produce a safe food product must be done,” said Angela Anandappa, founding executive director of the industry nonprofit Alliance for Advanced Sanitation. “And the worst-case scenario is for someone to get sick and die.”

Despite how unnerving a recall might be, experts argue that it might be a good thing that we’re still seeing them, because that means there are still people within the government doing the work to keep our food safe. 

Schaffner noted that firing all the epidemiologists wouldn’t get rid of foodborne illnesses, it would just stop us from knowing about them.

“If you undermine those resources, things could get worse, and probably will get worse, and you might not even know it, because the people who are keeping track of whether it’s getting better or worse no longer work for the federal government,” he added.

When you see a new food recall, don’t take it lightly, but also remember that it means there are still food safety specialists working hard to make sure your food is as safe as it can be. 

The Supreme Court’s Republican-appointed majority would have you think that its latest gerrymandering decision is a mere tweak to the legal rules governing political map-drawing. No doubt hoping for mild headlines, the court’s 6-3 opinion framed its holding as hewing to “the plain text” of the Voting Rights Act and “consistent with” the Fifteenth Amendment’s prohibition against racial discrimination in voting. In compliance with these two guideposts, Justice Samuel Alito’s majority opinion styles itself as a humble “update.”

Don’t be fooled. This is a counter-revolution. Section 2 of the 1965 Voting Rights Act requires that people of color have an equal opportunity to elect representatives of their choice. Wednesday’s decision effectively strikes down Section 2—at least what this Supreme Court had left of it—and takes the country back to the dark days when Black and brown voters in many states cast meaningless ballots, having been diluted and gerrymandered into powerlessness. In the decades since the Voting Rights Act, southern states have sent Black representatives to Congress, state legislatures, and local political bodies because this seminal civil rights law demanded that minority voters have an equal voice in the political process. Congress has repeatedly defended and continued these protections. On Wednesday, a court majority watered them right down to nothing.

The Republican appointees elevated partisan concerns over the rights of minority voters.

In her dissent, Justice Elena Kagan laid out the stakes of what the court had just done, and repeatedly chided the majority for downplaying the gravity of its holding. Wednesday’s decision in Louisiana v. Callais “could destroy most of the majority minority districts that in the past 40 years the Voting Rights Act created,” Kagan wrote, joined by Justices Sonia Sotomayor and Ketanji Brown Jackson. The decision has “thus laid the groundwork for the largest reduction in minority representation since the era following Reconstruction. Under cover of ‘updat[ing]’ and ‘realign[ing]’ this greatest of statutes, the majority makes a nullity of Section 2 and threatens a half-century’s worth of gains in voting equality.”

This case is not the first that the Roberts Court has taken to dismantle the Voting Rights Act, but it may be the last. It is likely the final nail in its coffin, and the lid is now so firmly in place that it is improbable that any plaintiff will be able to pry it open and avail themselves of the law’s protections. This court, under Chief Justice John Roberts, began its assassination of the law in 2013, striking down the requirement that jurisdictions with a history of discrimination get pre-clearance for new maps and changes in voting rules. The court went on to make it harder to win cases against discriminatory voting laws that block minority voters from casting their ballots. And in a related line of cases, the justices green lit partisan gerrymandering and made it increasingly difficult to prove racially discriminatory map-drawing had occurred. The Callais decision marries these two lines of cases, destroying the Voting Rights Act while elevating permission to conductpartisan gerrymandering above minority voting rights. 

The dissent opens with a hypothetical that illustrates the import of the majority’s decision: Imagine a state with a history of virulent racial discrimination, in which Black and white voters prefer different political parties. The population is 90 percent white, save a single county, shaped like a circle, which is 90 percent Black. The Black voters elect a representative of their choice because they belong to one congressional district. Then “the state legislature decides to eliminate the circle district, slicing it into six pie pieces and allocating one each to six new, still solidly White congressional districts,” Kagan writes. “The State’s Black voters are now widely dispersed, and (unlike the State’s White voters) lack any ability to elect a representative of their choice. Election after election, Black citizens’ votes are, by every practical measure, wasted.”

Congress, under the Voting Rights Act, forbid this kind of racial vote dilution. Under Callais, the Roberts Court brings it back. Indeed, if the white majority in the dissent’s hypothetical seeks to hand all their state’s congressional districts to Republicans, then the Black population cannot have a meaningful vote because they would choose a Democrat. “The majority straight-facedly holds that the Voting Rights Act must be brought low to make the world safe for partisan gerrymanders,” Kagan writes. “For how else, the majority reasons, can we preserve the authority of States to engage in this practice than by stripping minority citizens of their rights to an equal political process? And with that, the majority as much as invites States to embark on a new round of partisan gerrymanders.” Notably, the majority does not dispute this. Alito does not counter that this hypothetical district—the paradigmatic Section 2 district—would survive Wednesday’s opinion. It’s a damning silence that tacitly admits just how sweeping his decision is. 

Partisan gerrymandering, the court’s preferred tool for dismantling Section 2 of the Voting Rights Act, is not a constitutionally protected practice. In fact, it’s long been viewed as a big problem. As recently as 2017, the Supreme Court appeared poised to limit extreme partisan gerrymandering and its obviously corrosive impact on democracy and individual rights. But two years later, after Justice Anthony Kennedy was replaced by Justice Brett Kavanaugh, the court swung in the other direction. In Rucho v. Common Cause, Chief Justice John Roberts ruled that federal courts could not adjudicate partisan gerrymandering claims because they were ill-equipped for the task. Rucho “did not pretend that partisan gerrymanders were something in need of safeguarding,” Kagan recalled in her Callais dissent. “To the contrary, the Court conceded that they were ‘incompatible with democratic principles’ and ‘lead to results that reasonably seem unjust.’” But, seven years later, the majority has transformed partisan gerrymandering into a weapon with which to extinguish the political voice of minority voters.

Partisan gerrymandering—indeed any partisan concern that a legislature might raise—can now perform the same function that Jim Crow tactics did prior to the Voting Rights Act. There’s no need to resurrect poll taxes or literacy tests when legislatures can simply draw maps to exclude minority’s preferred candidate from winning. Against any accusations of discrimination against minority voters, legislators can simply invoke a political motive and prevail. The Voting Rights Act was “born of the literal blood of Union soldiers and civil rights marchers,” Kagan wrote. Callais not only tramples the Voting Rights Act, it creates the scaffolding upon which to build a new discriminatory political system.

Defenders of the Roberts Court chafe at the accusation by liberal critics that it is guided by partisan concerns rather than faithful application of the law. But on Wednesday, the Republican appointees literally elevated partisan concerns above the individual and collective rights of minority voters. They ruled that helping your preferred political party trumps the rights of Black and brown citizens. It’s hard to imagine a less justifiable decision—or a more precise representation of this court’s agenda.

Richard Pan is no stranger to blood. As a pediatrician, he was trained for its inevitability. But unlike your average medical professional—and despite his approachable and buoyant demeanor—he’s had menstrual blood launched at him in protest. He’s been assaulted on the street by a person livestreaming the attack on Facebook. He’s been the subject of racist memes comparing him to Asian despots. He’s encountered demonstrators clad in t-shirts depicting his face smeared with blood. He’s gotten plenty of death threats, too.

Oh, and by the way, he’s running for Congress.

What’s with the hate? Most of it stems from the fact that during his tenure as a California state senator, Pan authored some of the nation’s strongest vaccine laws. In 2015, he introduced legislation that nixed the ability of parents to use “personal beliefs” to exempt their children from the routine immunizations required for public school enrollment. Four years later, he wrote a bill cracking down on fraudulent medical exemptions for vaccines, which passed despite protesters’ clamorous attempts to shut down the Legislature. “They brought the militia to the capital,” Pan recalls.

“I like to say I met RFK Jr. twice. I debated him twice. I beat him both times.”

“When we came out of the hearing room, I was shaken by the level of vitriol, and I was almost in tears—but Dr. Pan was so calm,” says Leah Russin, a parent who, concerned about high rates of vaccine exemptions in California schools, began working with Pan to generate support for the 2015 bill.

Opponents had been bussed in from around the state—mostly mothers who described their children as “vaccine-injured”—to address lawmakers in Sacramento. As anti-vax firebrands yelled into the microphone and religious leaders promised imprecatory prayers, Pan stood and listened calmly. “It was like the ocean lapping against a wall without eroding it at all,” Russin remembers.

This scene repeated in 2019, but escalated to include the blood throwing and even a bodily assault. “It was the roots of what we now call the MAHA movement,” Russin says, and Pan endured their “crucible.”

Pan, now 60, his dark hair peppered with gray, ditched his usual coat and tie for our interview, opting for a crisp blue Oxford shirt. He has never been too rattled by the vitriol, he tells me: “When you resort to violence, then I think you’ve already admitted you’ve lost the argument.”

After four years in the California Assembly and 12 in the state Senate, Pan termed out and took a hiatus from politics—returning to his teaching post at UC Davis School of Medicine. But the rise of the vehemently anti-vaccine Make America Healthy (MAHA) movement and its erratic figurehead, Health and Human Services Secretary Robert F. Kennedy Jr., has compelled him to jump into the national ring, where his résumé, unflappability, and knowledge of vaccine science and its deniers make him uniquely qualified to push back.

Pan in 2024, during a Sacramento Bee-KVIE mayoral forum.Hector Amezcua/The Sacramento Bee/ZUMA

Having tousled with the anti-vax movement for decades, Pan has watched it shift from a hodgepodge of religious fundamentalists and lefty hippie types toward a more violent, right-leaning contingent obsessed with personal freedoms and urged along by peddlers of bogus cures. “As a physician,” he says, “I learned a lot about both the diseases and the vaccinations themselves, but I had to learn more about this anti-vaccine—not just ideology, but all their myths.”

Suddenly, “the concept of a health system broadly not meeting someone’s needs clicked in his mind—you could see the world open up to him.”

This knowledge, he believes, is his best weapon against vaccine dissenters, including RFK Jr., who butted heads personally with Pan after showing up in Sacramento to argue against his public health bills. “I like to say I met him twice. I debated him twice. I beat him both times,” Pan says. The first time was a true debate; the second not so much. During a hearing on his 2019 bill, other anti-vax witnesses didn’t leave enough time for Kennedy to speak. Sitting next to the pediatrician, he grumbled something, whereupon Pan said, “It’s not my fault. You know that your guys didn’t figure this out.”

A 15-minute slot on the floor of the California Senate is one thing, but Kennedy has since gained a powerful national platform—watching him spew misinformation during a raucous four-hour Senate hearing last September served as the final straw for Pan’s return to politics. Soon after, Pan announced he would run for the House of Representatives, challenging Republican incumbent Rep. Kevin Kiley in California’s Third congressional district.

The Third District contained a sliver of left-leaning Sacramento, where Pan lives, along with a large tract of the more conservative Eastern Sierras. But he’d flipped a Republican seat during his first bid for elected office. Maybe he could do it again? Plus, Gov. Gavin Newsom was mounting a campaign to redraw California’s electoral map in response to an aggressive gerrymandering effort by Texas Republicans. The political landscape Pan was launching himself into was about to be overhauled.

The child of Taiwanese immigrants, Pan was born in Yonkers, New York, and raised in Pittsburgh. He knew he wanted to be a doctor since the third grade, he remembers, after he read a book from the school library about (of all things) blood. It took another few decades for him to find his penchant for politics, but he began straying from the conventional med-school track while studying biophysics at Johns Hopkins in the late-1980s.

He had taken up a genetics research project between semesters, but another lab published findings that made it moot. “Oh, great, now I have to find a new project for the summer,” Pan recalls thinking.

That’s how he began working with Gerard Anderson, a professor of health policy who needed help collecting data for a book on how Medicare can fail to meet the needs of people with multiple chronic diseases. “I would have never anticipated him going into politics,” Anderson told me.

The trauma of ICE’s abuses isn’t limited to “the person it happened to,” Pan says. “It’s the person who’s witnessed it. It’s the person who hears about it.”

Pan had people skills, his former mentor recalls, but was overly focused on the details. “In biophysics, you’re dealing with very minute, specific topics,” Anderson explains. But as Pan delved deeper into the work, “all of a sudden the concept of a health system broadly not meeting someone’s needs clicked in his mind—you could see the world open up to him.”

Pan likes to say that he traded a micro view of health for a macro one: “We need people to discover the next great cure. We also need people to work on being sure people can get access to those great cures.”

To that end, he spent his summers during medical school on rotation with the Commissioned Corps of US Public Health Service, which places medical professionals in regions of the country that are experiencing public health crises. His first assignment was in a Pennsylvania trucking town, where the locals weren’t too concerned with infectious disease; they wanted officials to address an epidemic of domestic violence. The next year, the Commissioned Corps dropped him into a Philadelphia-area clinic at the center of a measles outbreak fueled by fundamentalist churches whose congregations refused to vaccinate their children. These experiences, Pan says, “really made me think about social determinants of health before that name was popular.”

This public-health lens informed his work on a range of policies, even ones with seemingly no medical connection. His core issues as a state legislator, including affordability, housing, and violence prevention, are also prominent features of his House campaign—as is countering President Donald Trump. But Pan says he doesn’t view his opposition to the administration’s agenda as separate from his medical obligations.

Part of his work as a pediatrician—he continues to treat low-income children at the Sacramento County Health Center—is to determine whether his young patients have experienced trauma. Because unaddressed, trauma is itself a risk factor for the kinds of chronic diseases RFK Jr. and Trump promised to tackle. (In fact, the administration has slashed research grants to scientists who study them.) And now, on Trump’s watch, we have “armed, masked agents going around breaking into people’s houses without warrants, breaking into people’s cars, children worried that their parents may not be home when they come home from school,” Pan says. “Think about the chronic impact of that trauma.”

“It’s not just to the person it happened to,” he adds. “It’s the person who’s witnessed it. It’s the person who hears about it—that our own federal government is in defiance of our Constitution.”

There’s no shortage of ways to portray the second Trump administration as a threat to people’s wellbeing, but its detrimental actions on vaccines and health coverage, in Pan’s view, are only a part of why medical professionals should feel obliged speak out. Because policies that make people fear for their rights and freedoms constitute their own public health crisis.

The anti-vaxxer stalking Pan wore a t-shirt depicting Pan’s face splotched with blood, and the word “LIAR” sprayed across his glasses.

Congress has its share of physician members, but the majority of the 20 currently serving are Republicans. And most have supported Trump despite his detrimental public health policies and appointees. The Senate’s four MDs all voted to confirm RFK Jr., for example. But the rise of MAHA and the Republican gutting of Medicaid have prompted other doctors to launch Democratic congressional bids—counting Pan, at least three are running in California.

After voters approved Newsom’s redistricting plan, the district Pan had planned to run in, the Third, suddenly tilted liberal. A game of musical chairs ensued. Democratic Rep. Ami Bera, the incumbent in the adjoining Sixth District, announced a run in the Third. So Pan pounced on the Sixth.

His prospects look decent: 70 percent of voters in the newly drawn Sixth already know Pan pretty well—they’re his former constituents. And as the dust settled, Pan secured several key endorsements, including from the Sacramento Bee. Still, the race is anything but decided, especially now that Pan may get his match-up with a conservative incumbent.

Last month, Kiley announced he, too, would run in the Sixth—not as a Republican, but as an independent. His incumbency in the Third has given him a big money advantage. As of late March, per the most recent disclosure report, he’d raised nearly five times as much as Pan or Thien Ho, the Sacramento County district attorney who is also running as a Democrat and is slightly ahead of Pan in fundraising. But Kiley’s rebrand may not be enough to get him elected in the freshly left-leaning Sixth. He was endorsed by Trump in 2022, and has consistently voted with his conservative colleagues in the House.

In some ways, the challenges Pan will face in Congress if elected are not that different from what he confronted as a state legislator. He drafted the 2015 vaccine bill in response to a nonfatal measles outbreak in Disneyland, then the largest since 2000, when the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention declared the virus eliminated in the US. But that outbreak was only about 3 percent as big as the ongoing wave, which has resulted in 4,080 confirmed cases, 344 hospitalizations, and three deaths since the beginning of 2025. Roughly 93 percent of those afflicted were unvaccinated.

A few months into Trump’s first term, Pan and Russin got on a plane to attend the first March for Science in DC. They weren’t the only envoys from California’s vaccine wars. As they ambled down the National Mall with the rest of the procession, two familiar faces caught up. One was Joshua Coleman, a prominent anti-vaxxer from the Sacramento suburbs, and the other was Pan’s: Coleman’s sign and t-shirt bore a depiction of Pan’s face splotched with blood, and the word “LIAR” spray painted across his glasses.

Coleman has been a “perennial person,” Russin told me. Even after getting into legal trouble, he kept popping up, sometimes donning Star Wars themed costumes that obscured his identity. He followed Pan throughout the march, shouting accusations and documenting his actions for a 30-minute highlight reel he later published on YouTube. At the end of the video, Coleman stands on a DC sidewalk in the rain, beaming: “I ruined his day!”

Well, maybe. Much of the rest of the video consists of Pan strolling down the mall in his white coat, chatting with other science supporters and taking pictures with fellow physicians, despite Coleman hovering just a few feet behind. Beyond the occasional moment when Pan gestures towards the camera with a shrug, Coleman might as well be invisible—at least to Pan. Other science-minded demonstrators circle by with uneasy looks. A few bold ones block Coleman’s camera and ask him to leave.

All of this happened before anti-vax influencers helped convince nearly a third of Americans surveyed that childhood vaccines do more harm than good, before some of those right-wing skeptics were placed in key public health posts, and before Pan’s opponents began resorting to violence.

Yet though the political power dynamics have shifted immensely in a relatively brief period, Pan doesn’t plan to change how he responds. “To a certain degree,” he says, “some of the threats that I get are no longer about me. It’s about scaring other people, because they know I won’t give in.”

Increasingly desperate negotiations. A plea from the president himself. An eleventh-hour sleight of hand, followed by a surprise vote in the dead of night. 

Over the past month, chaos has unfolded on Capitol Hill as House Republicans fracture over a central question: Should the federal government need a warrant to spy on US citizens?

According to most interpretations of the Fourth Amendment, the answer is a simple yes. But for nearly two decades, Section 702 of the Foreign Intelligence Surveillance Act (FISA) has created a nifty loophole. The law authorizes warrantless surveillance of foreign nationals abroad, but in practice, it allows intelligence agencies to scoop up the electronic communications of US citizens, too. Agents can then perform “backdoor searches” on records that would normally require a warrant to obtain—querying databases for Americans’ phone calls, text messages, and emails.

Privacy hawks and civil libertarians have long warned that the program undermines Americans’ constitutional right to privacy. Yet when Congress last reauthorized the program in 2024, Democrats were largely in favor. Joe Biden signed it into law with minor reforms; Donald Trump urged Republicans to “KILL” it.

But much has changed in the past two years, and FISA reform advocates say the 2024 changes have failed to stymie abuses. The rapid rise of artificial intelligence has collided with an unprecedented push by the Trump administration to expand government spy powers. ICE is spending hundreds of millions of dollars on new surveillance technology while the FBI buys up Americans’ cell phone location data from commercial brokers. Shortly after returning to office, Trump fired all three Democrats on the Privacy and Civil Liberties Oversight Board, an independent body tasked with advising the executive branch and reviewing programs like Section 702. And in May, the FBI shuttered an internal office that audits for Section 702 abuses.

Now that Trump stands to benefit from the spy program himself, he’s demanding that Republicans pass a “clean” reauthorization, pushing a bill through without any amendments. The law is set to expire Thursday, and despite the bill clearing a procedural vote in the House today, deep divisions remain in the Republican Party. GOP privacy hardliners have insisted that any reauthorization of Section 702 must include a warrant requirement for government searches of Americans’ communications.

Meanwhile, all but four House Democrats are opposing a clean reauthorization, as the abuses of Trump’s second term have crystallized the dangers of handing warrantless surveillance powers to an aspiring authoritarian. Administration officials have publicly labeled anti-ICE protesters “domestic terrorists,” ICE agents have collected biometric data from activists, and Trump has used the Justice Department to go after his political enemies.

Congressional staffers familiar with the negotiations told me that the growing bipartisan opposition to Section 702 marks a significant opportunity to reform America’s outdated surveillance laws. “It’s very clear that the presidency being in a different hand has totally changed the dynamic,” said one Democratic staffer, granted anonymity to speak candidly. “While AI is part of that new opportunity, I really think it’s because people are cognizant of how dangerous it is to have a federal government with someone like Stephen Miller actively going around talking about domestic terrorists.”

Earlier this month, the Lever and the American Prospect reported that the Democratic-led Congressional Black Caucus planned to support a clean reauthorization of the program, despite its use in federal surveillance of Black Lives Matter activists in 2020. A few days later, facing media scrutiny, the caucus came out against a clean reauthorization and called for a judicial warrant requirement and a ban on backdoor searches.

“As it stands, the Trump Administration has already committed serious violations that undermine democratic norms. We cannot allow federal law enforcement officers to have unfettered and unregulated access to information to persecute political opponents or intimidate American citizens,” CBC members wrote in a statement. 

In fact, FBI searches of US citizens’ data under Section 702 rose 35 percent last year to more than 7,000 queries, according to a letter the agency sent to Congress in March. An April report by the Privacy and Civil Liberties Oversight Board found that the FBI also conducted 839 “sensitive” searches in 2025—queries related to journalists, elected officials, political candidates, and religious groups—up more than 200 percent from 2024.

Critics say that those findings underscore that the 2024 reforms—which included a requirement that the deputy director of the FBI approve “sensitive” searches—did not go far enough.

“Until two months ago, the Deputy Director was Dan Bongino, a longtime conspiracy theorist who has frequently called for baseless investigations of his political opponents. His replacement, Andrew Bailey, is a highly partisan election denier who recently directed a raid on a Georgia election office to justify Donald Trump’s conspiracy theories,” Sen. Ron Wyden (D-Ore.) wrote in a “Dear Colleague” letter on April 13.

Wyden also deposited a classified Dear Colleague letter with House Security, detailing a secret legal interpretation of Section 702 that “directly affects the privacy rights of Americans.” That letter has made a splash in Washington, DC, two staffers told me, even though it’s largely been absent from mainstream media coverage. In other words, the public doesn’t know the full scope of the spy law that Congress is battling over. 

“I strongly believe that this matter can and should be declassified and that Congress needs to debate it openly before Section 702 is reauthorized,” Wyden said in a Senate floor speech last month. “In fact, when it is eventually declassified, the American people will be stunned that it took so long and that Congress has been debating this authority with insufficient information.”

Some reporting has incorrectly conflated Wyden’s warning with a classified March 17 opinion from the Foreign Intelligence Surveillance Court. That ruling found compliance issues with how intelligence agencies used “filtering tools” to query Section 702 data, winnowing down the results without specifically searching for a target, and therefore evading oversight. Wyden’s warning is about a different classified opinion, sources told me.

“Senator Wyden does not cry wolf,” said Elizabeth Goitein, senior director for liberty and national security at the Brennan Center for Justice. “In the past, when he has said that there’s a secret legal interpretation that will shock Americans, he has been right.” Goitein pointed to Edward Snowden’s leaks of classified documents revealing a massive, indiscriminate global surveillance operation by the National Security Agency and its allies. Two years before the leaks, Wyden had warned the public of a secret intelligence court interpretation of Section 215 of the PATRIOT Act.

“Through the Snowden disclosure, we found out what that was. And that was that the NSA was collecting Americans’ phone records in bulk, and it was doing it based on a legal interpretation that the phone records of every American in the country were relevant to specific foreign intelligence investigations,” said Goitein. “That’s not a plausible interpretation of the law.”

In an outcome that was widely expected, the US Supreme Court ruled Wednesday that New Jersey’s efforts to investigate an anti-abortion crisis pregnancy center for allegedly misleading consumers violated the First Amendment.

In a 9-0 decision, the justices said a sweeping subpoena by the state’s then-attorney general, Matthew Platkin, seeking information about donors to First Choice Women’s Resource Centers, a chain of anti-abortion pregnancy centers in northeastern New Jersey, “burdened First Choice’s associational rights.” The full opinion in the case can be found here. 

The decision clears the way for First Choice to proceed with a federal lawsuit challenging the subpoena. “Demands for private donor information…’chill’ protected First Amendment associational rights even when those demands contemplate disclosure only to government officials and not ‘the general public,’” Justice Neil Gorsuch wrote for his fellow justices.

The decision drew parallels between New Jersey’s demand for information and Alabama’s attempts in the 1950s to force the NAACP to turn over the names and addresses of all of its members in the state. The high court sided with the NAACP in the landmark 1958 ruling.

“Associational rights carry special significance for political, social, religious, and other minorities,” Gorsuch wrote. “Take that freedom away and ‘dissident expression’ stands particularly vulnerable to marginalization or outright ‘suppression by the majority,’ leaving all of society poorer for it.”

But Wednesday’s decision—the second major Supreme Court victory for the CPC industry in recent years—is likely to make it even harder for state lawmakers and attorneys general to investigate anti-abortion organizations. In 2018, the court blocked a California law that would have required pregnancy centers to inform patients about state-funded family-planning services, including abortion.

Crisis pregnancy centers, faith-based organizations whose mission is to deter women from having abortions, attract clients by offering free services such as pregnancy tests, ultrasounds, baby clothes, and diapers. But they also have a well-documented history of using misinformation and deception to dissuade abortion seekers from terminating their pregnancies. Like many CPCs, First Choice—which has served more than 36,000 clients in New Jersey since its founding in 1985—created different websites for donors and the general public, tailoring its anti-abortion message for each audience.

“Strip away the ability of individuals to work together free from governmental oversight and intrusion, and the freedom to associate may become no freedom at all.”

The question before the justices was narrow: Should First Choice be able to directly fight a state agency’s subpoena in federal court, or must it initially go to state courts? The long-accepted procedure for enforcing or challenging such a subpoena, New Jersey argued, is to first seek relief in state court, and then, should it be necessary, appeal to federal court.

But the conservative legal group Alliance Defending Freedom, which represented First Choice, accused Platkin of “selectively target[ing] the nonprofit based on its religious speech and pro-life views.” According to ADF, the Platkin subpoena had such serious implications that First Choice should be able to seek immediate relief in the federal courts, rather than having to expend time and resources litigating the issue first in state court.

Lining up behind First Choice was a predictable collection of anti-abortion and conservative groups. But they were joined by progressive groups, including the Reporters Committee for Freedom of the Press and the ACLU, which also raised concerns that the same type of subpoenas against First Choice could be weaponized against humanitarian groups, journalists, and protesters. In Wednesday’s ruling, the justices seemed to concur. As Gorsuch wrote, “Strip away the ability of individuals to work together free from governmental oversight and intrusion, and the freedom to associate may become no freedom at all—individuals deterred, groups diminished, and their protected advocacy suppressed.”

Anti-abortion groups hailed the decision. Erin Hawley, an attorney with Alliance Defending Freedom who argued the case before the Supreme Court in December, called the ruling a “resounding victory,” and blasted New Jersey’s investigation tactics as “blatantly unconstitutional.”

“This is a triumph for every faith-based ministry in America,” William Haun, senior counsel at Becket, a legal group that focuses on religious cases, said in a statement. “The Court made crystal clear that our First Amendment freedoms—including religious freedom—are ‘necessarily’ associative, and that keeps the federal courthouse doors open for religious groups to protect their governance from intrusive state bureaucrats.”

For the first time since the US began bombing Iran two weeks ago, our military leadership testified before a congressional committee today. The main takeaway: there is no real plan for ending this war. But there is a plan for giving the Pentagon more money. 

At today’s House Armed Services Committee hearing, Secretary of War Pete Hegseth, General Dan Caine, and Comptroller of the Army Jules Hurst each explained why they believe it is critical to American security to fund the Pentagon to the tune of 1.5 trillion dollars in 2027. The military’s budget surpassed $1 trillion for the first time in 2026—but, Hegseth said, building a “lethal arsenal of freedom” requires 500 million more dollars per year. This, he said, would both allow military “domination” and fuel the “American economic engine.” 

Representative Mike Rogers (R-AL), chairman of the Armed Services Committee, invoked the power of mathematics to justify the budget proposal. Another half-billion dollars in funding for the Pentagon—an agency which has never passed an audit—is necessary, he said, because “China announced a 7 percent increase in defense spending this year” and “as a result, they are spending more of their GDP on defense than we are.” As are “all of our adversaries,” Rogers said. 

Moreover, he added, American defense spending as a percentage of GDP has “been falling since World War II.” American defense spending as dollars, however, has consistently risen. Adjusted for inflation, current U.S. defense spending is more than $400 billion higher than in the late 1990s. Nonetheless, Rogers said, “we don’t have enough munitions, ships, aircraft, and autonomous systems” to get the country “where we need to be if we want to truly deter conflict.” 

The military wants more money: as Hegseth put it, that money will go to “where technology is evolving. And as I mentioned, the character of war fighting is changing pretty quickly, mass simultaneity autonomy undersea space, cyber information.” All these big words require “a higher end of capital investment. It’s an important down payment on the future.” 

As Representative Adam Smith (D-WA) pointed out, the Pentagon that’s asking for all that money has not yet provided Congress with an estimate of how much money they’re spending on war with Iran. Hurst, for the first time, answered on the record: about $25 billion in 60 days, or over $400 million dollars per day at war. Some independent researchers’ estimates, however, are nearly double that. And according to Iran’s ministry of health, well over 3,000 people have been killed since the US and Israel started bombing Iran in late February. When Hegseth was asked how much this war is costing American families in fuel and food costs, he said “that’s a gotcha question.” 

Pressed by several members of Congress, Hegseth—who spent yesterday on a helicopter joyride with Kid Rock—did not outline a plan for ending the war. 

“Their nuclear facilities have been obliterated. They’re buried underground,” he said. 

“So we had to start this war, you just said 60 days ago, because the nuclear weapon was an imminent threat, and now you’re saying that it was completely obliterated?” Smith asked. 

“Their facilities were bombed and obliterated, their ambitions were not,” Hegseth said. This—bombing on the basis of ‘ambitions’ is a “peace through strength” strategy. 

Representative John Garamendi (D-CA) said that from his perspective, Hegseth’s strategy has been one of “astounding incompetence.” 

“You have misled the public about why we are at war, you and the President have offered ever-changing reasons for this war,” he said. 

Hegseth, for his part, said that criticizing him is providing free propaganda for America’s enemies. “Shame on you,” he told Garamendi. “Calling this a quagmire, two months in? Handing propaganda to our enemies?”

“Don’t say you support our troops on the one hand, and then a two-month mission is a quagmire. That’s a false equivalation. It undermines the mission.”