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

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

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

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

Go a little deeper

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

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

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

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

One link for later

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

Before you go…

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

On August 5, 2025, the US Department of Health and Human Services canceled 22 mRNA vaccine projects worth roughly $500 million and told the country it would stop investing in the technology that had brought us life-saving Covid vaccines. Health Secretary Robert F. Kennedy Jr., a longtime vaccine skeptic, claimed that the data showed these vaccines fail to protect against upper respiratory infections like Covid and flu. That his claims weren’t true — Moderna had already published Phase 3 trial results showing the opposite — didn’t seem to matter.

On August 5, 2026 — one year to the day later — the Food and Drug Administration (FDA) approved mFLUSIVA, the first mRNA influenza vaccine ever licensed in the United States.

That symmetry, while highly useful to writers like myself who are always looking to identify the rhymes of history, wasn’t planned. The approval landed on the one-year anniversary simply because of the deadline the agency had set for itself in February of this year, after it refused to review Moderna’s application and then, 15 days later, reversed itself. 

The decision didn’t earn a huge amount of press, in part because seasonal flu is a disease Americans have rarely taken seriously — fewer than 50 percent of US adults got their flu shot this past fall and winter. But flu is no joke: The 2024–’25 season produced 51 million illnesses, 710,000 hospitalizations, and 45,000 deaths. That’s more than the number of Americans who died in car crashes last year. And the damage from a flu virus doesn’t stop when the fever does. In the week after a confirmed infection, the risk of a heart attack runs roughly six times higher than normal. 

So a better flu vaccine matters. But the more interesting thing is what the approval says about the year that produced it. The nine experts who voted unanimously that this vaccine’s benefits outweigh its risks were appointed under the very same secretary who was against mRNA technology. Asked to look at the evidence, those experts couldn’t produce a single vote against it. 

That’s not quite a change of heart, but at a dark time for public health, it’s something to hang our hopes on — because flu could just be the start for this technology.

The egg came first

If you’ve ever taken a flu shot, thank a chicken.

Every flu vaccine Americans have received since the 1940s has been grown inside fertilized chicken eggs. It’s a laborious process, closer to agriculture than it is high technology. Each batch incubates for nine to 12 days; the World Health Organization then spends months making the reagents manufacturers need to calibrate doses. The whole sequence runs about six months.

That means that the flu strains in your vaccine in November were selected back in February. Which is a problem, because flu viruses don’t like to stand still. Between February and November, the virus drifts, and the current dominant H3N2 flu drifts especially fast. 

The eggs are a problem, too. Growing flu virus in a chicken egg forces it to adapt to egg cells, and those adaptations alter the very surface protein the vaccine is meant to teach your immune system to recognize. Between the 2011 and 2020 flu seasons, egg-adaptive mutations caused more mismatches than the virus’s own drift did. And more mismatches mean a less effective vaccine — while the flu shot prevented an estimated 12,000 deaths in the 2024–’25 flu season, it is the weakest vaccine in routine American use, landing anywhere between 20 and 60 percent effective depending on how well February’s guess matched November’s virus.

mRNA skips the egg. The shot carries instructions, a strip of genetic code that tells your own cells to build the flu’s surface protein, which your immune system then learns to attack. And swapping in a new strain means retyping that code, not growing a new virus.

As a result, Moderna told the FDA’s advisory panel it can go from strain selection to finished vaccine in two to three months instead of six. That means strain picks could move later, closer to the season they cover, and a novel flu virus surfacing in September could still be blocked by a reformulated vaccine in the same season. Eggs are great, but they can’t do that.

Building off the platform

Back in January I wrote here about the universal flu vaccine — one shot covering every strain for years. It’s a public health dream. mFLUSIVA isn’t that, but some of the best hopes for a universal flu vaccine run through the mRNA platform, and platforms only improve when somebody uses them.

That word — platform — is where last August’s decision went wrong. Kennedy made a claim about one application, mRNA respiratory vaccines, and cut funding for the technology underneath all of them. But over the 12 months that followed, the science on mRNA kept flowing.

In June, five-year melanoma results showed an individualized mRNA therapy given after surgery alongside pembrolizumab cut the risk of recurrence or death by 49 percent. In April, a Memorial Sloan Kettering team reported that among pancreatic cancer patients whose immune systems responded to a personalized mRNA vaccine, nearly 90 percent were alive six years later; the five-year survival rate in that disease sits near 13 percent. And KJ Muldoon, the first person treated with a gene-editing therapy built for his mutation alone, is walking and talking, though half the infants born with his disorder never see a first birthday. The editor that rewrote his DNA was delivered to his liver as messenger RNA — mRNA as the delivery truck rather than the vaccine.

None of those is a flu shot. All of them are the same chemistry — a strip of genetic code wrapped in a lipid nanoparticle — and none of them were what Kennedy was talking about when he defunded it.

Partially as a result, Americans are falling behind. Moderna’s combined Covid-and-flu shot is already licensed in Europe while patients here wait for a resubmission. The Phase 3 trial of its H5 bird flu vaccine — the one meant to be ready if bird flu ever learns to spread between people — runs on money from the Coalition for Epidemic Preparedness Innovations, and the British government, after the administration killed a $760 million BARDA contract. “The United States invented this platform,” Johns Hopkins RNA biologist Jeff Coller wrote on Thursday, “and is the only country walking away from it.”

Of course, you need to actually get the vaccine

mFLUSIVA beat a standard-dose flu shot by 26.6 percent in a 40,700-person trial. (Against flu bad enough to send someone to a doctor, the figure was 33.7 percent — an exploratory finding the trial wasn’t built to prove, but that points in the same direction.) This is a better flu shot, but it hasn’t solved flu.

There are issues with side effects: Two-thirds of recipients reported injection-site pain, against 30 percent for the comparison. Most cleared in a day or two, but in a country where a quarter of the people who skip the flu shot cite side effects, that’s not a minor problem.

And approval, unfortunately, isn’t access. The CDC’s vaccine advisory committee has been frozen by a federal court since March, so there is no clinical recommendation, which means insurers aren’t required to cover mFLUSIVA at no cost. The $500 million in canceled contracts hasn’t been restored. As Michael Osterholm, who runs the University of Minnesota’s infectious disease center, put it after the government reversed its mRNA decision in February: “We don’t have any idea why they reversed course. That’s part of the problem.”

The most optimistic reading is that nine independent experts appointed by this government looked at the evidence on mRNA and could not produce a single vote against it. The more pessimistic one is that it took a refusal-to-file letter, a public outcry and two senior departures to get there.

But here’s what we do know: Some morning this fall a 58-year-old will roll up a sleeve at a CVS for a vaccine designed off a sequence rather than grown in an egg, and will think about none of this. That’s more progress than I would have expected a year ago.

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

The Trump administration has now convinced developers to abandon 12 offshore wind leases. The latest will cost taxpayers $1.2 billion.

With the prospect of another government shutdown looming, the Senate Appropriations Committee released the text of a continuing resolution (CR) on Sunday that would keep the federal government funded until Dec. 11 and punt the government funding negotiations until after the midterms. 

In that stopgap bill, Democrats and a couple of Republicans included a significant provision that would ban, for now, the Trump White House and its Office of Management and Budget (OMB) from finalizing a grantmaking rule change it proposed in May. 

On  a recent episode of Today, Explained, I explored Donald Trump’s ongoing succession wars, and whether the president that’s upended the Republican Party is taking an active role in deciding who might replace him. 

The short version: The race to inherit MAGA, already underway, runs through Vice President JD Vance and Secretary of State Marco Rubio, and Trump has every incentive to keep everyone guessing about how it ends. 

As a guest host of Today, Explained, I talked to my former colleague, New York Times reporter Maggie Haberman, who has covered Trump for years, and recently released a new book, Regime Change: Inside the Imperial Presidency of Donald Trump, which she co-wrote with Times reporter Jonathan Swan. 

Here are three things that stuck out: 

1. It’s Vance’s to lose — but it’s not a given

“Vance is the presumptive frontrunner right now, and it’s hard for me to see who else that could be,” Haberman said. Rubio, Donald Trump Jr., and the Turning Point network have all signaled they’re lining up behind the vice president as Trump’s heir. Rubio has gone as far as telling Vanity Fair that if Vance runs, “he’s going to be our nominee, and I’ll be one of the first people to support him.” 

But being the frontrunner isn’t the same as having been anointed. Regime Change lays out real fault lines between Trump and his vice president; over the Iran strikes and the Epstein files, Vance repeatedly landed on the opposite side of the president. On the decision to go to war, Haberman reported, Vance “was the only one who really argued forcefully with the president,” and “it cost him with Trump.” 

That offense could be remembered when the next Republican primary arrives. 

2. Trump plans to stick around

The biggest obstacle to a clean handoff may be that Trump doesn’t want one. “Trump doesn’t want to cede the stage to anybody,” Haberman said. “The second that he anoints somebody or backs somebody or whatever, the clock starts ticking on his own relevance.”

And there’s nothing in his history, she added, to suggest he’ll ride quietly into retirement: “There is nothing in his history that suggests that he’s just going to go off and do paintings like George W. Bush.” Whoever wins the Republican nomination in 2028 should expect Trump to still be standing next to them — and still expecting credit.

3. Trump still dangles Rubio over Vance

Even with the field seemingly settled, Trump keeps reminding Vance that it isn’t. The most vivid scene in Regime Change comes from an October dinner in the White House Blue Room, with Rupert Murdoch and News Corp. executives at the table alongside the Vances and Rubio. Trump turned to Murdoch and asked what he thought of JD. “JD has the potential to be great,” Murdoch offered — a pointed answer from a man who had tried to talk Trump out of picking Vance in the first place. “Thanks a lot, Rupert,” Vance said.

Then Trump asked, “Well, what about Marco?” Murdoch’s reply, according to Haberman: “Marco is brilliant.” After that, Haberman says, the table got “uncomfortable.”

There’s no evidence Rubio is actually running — “quite the opposite,” Haberman said. But Trump has always pitted rivals against each other, and by Haberman’s account, he simply has better personal chemistry with Rubio than with Vance — a striking turn given the “Little Marco” cruelty of 2016.

So will Vance get the endorsement he needs? “I think anybody who is counting on Donald Trump’s anything often ends up pretty disappointed,” she said. 

There’s much more in the full podcast, so listen to Today, Explained wherever you get podcasts, including Apple Podcasts, Pandora, and Spotify.

On June 28, Sister Leticia “Letty” Ugboaja, a Catholic nun from Nigeria, stepped out of her home to take the short, one-block stroll to her church in McAllen, Texas. It should have been uneventful: dressed in her white habit and bearing a rosary, Sister Letty was walking to Sunday morning mass at Our Lady of Sorrows.

She didn’t make it — US Immigration and Customs Enforcement agents stopped, arrested, and handcuffed the 56-year-old. They took her to a detention facility an hour away, reportedly confiscated her rosary, and declined to bring her the medication she takes. She called her diocese for help — and as news spread, both Republican and Democratic members of Congress appealed directly to Homeland Security Secretary Markwayne Mullin for details. Hours later, she was released — without explanation.

Plenty of questions surrounding this incident remain. According to her diocese, Sister Letty had worked as a registered nurse in the area for about a decade and entered the country legally. 

But the incident is not a one-off — and instead is representative of a concerning trend in America over the last year. Though ICE and President Donald Trump’s immigration enforcement activities have receded from national headlines, Sister Letty’s detention shows how two forces are clashing in the second Trump term: the drive for hardline immigration enforcement and the constitutional imperative of preserving religious liberty and free exercise in America. 

The tightening of federal immigration enforcement around religious spaces and believers

The last year of Trump’s mass deportation program has produced many cases like Sister Letty’s — even if they haven’t made national news. Federal immigration agents have detained and harassed Catholic, Protestant, and Muslim chaplains and priests, while sparking fear across denominations — particularly as religious leaders and communities organized and led responses to immigration crackdowns across the country.

Both the Department of Homeland Security and Immigration and Customs Enforcement did not immediately respond to requests for comment on Sister Letty’s case, or other religious liberty concerns. They have also not responded to requests for comment to other local and national outlets in the case of Sister Letty.

In November, the Episcopal bishop of Texas reported that a Kenyan priest working for the Texas Department of Criminal Justice had been detained by ICE while leaving his workplace and transferred to a detention facility. His diocesan leaders said he was working in the US legally, and had the proper documentation to be in the US. In July 2025, a Muslim hospital chaplain in Ohio was arrested and detained during an immigration check-in. An Egyptian immigrant, he was held in detention for weeks before finally being released. And earlier this year, Catholic Cardinal Blase Cupich of Chicago reported that priests in his archdiocese have been stopped by federal agents and ordered to prove their citizenship. That’s all on top of clergy who were shot at with pepper balls or sprayed with tear gas at anti-ICE protests in Illinois and California.

Yet this clash has shown up not just through harassment of clergy and those dedicated to religious life, but also in restrictions on how those in detention receive pastoral care, how those trying to provide that care are allowed to operate, and whether places of worship can be free of a federal presence. 

For years, federal immigration enforcement was limited by “sensitive location” rules designed to protect places like hospitals, schools, and churches from unnecessary intimidation. Those guidelines were first formalized during the Obama administration, kept in place by the first Trump administration, and reaffirmed during the Biden presidency. Nor were these restrictions entirely new: Some form of protection for houses of worship has existed for more than 30 years, according to the legal organization Democracy Forward. 

But DHS rescinded the “sensitive location” rules at the start of the second Trump presidency — to “empower” CBP and ICE  to go after “criminals” who “will no longer be able to hide in America’s schools and churches to avoid arrest,” according to a DHS statement at the time — triggering legal responses from immigrant rights and religious freedom groups.

“For decades, the federal government recognized a simple truth: targeting people at houses of worship violates religious freedom and harms communities,” Bradley Girard, the senior counsel at Democracy Forward, said earlier this year when announcing friend-of-the-court briefs in federal cases brought by a coalition of Quaker, Sikh, and Baptist groups. “These briefs make clear that the Trump-Vance administration’s policy is not only unlawful — it is dangerous. It chills religious exercise and undermines public safety by driving people into the shadows.”

Many of those suits ended up succeeding — at least in getting judges to protect various Baptist, Lutheran, Christian, and Sikh places of worship that could prove they were being affected by immigration raids. But broader federal protections for places of worship have not yet been formalized.

Instead, churches, religious organizations, and legal aid organizations have waged piecemeal legal fights to secure religious liberty protections, like in Minnesota and Illinois — particularly to exercise pastoral care, like providing counseling, sacraments, and religious rituals. In Minneapolis, for example, Groundwork Legal, a local nonprofit, public interest law firm, sued ICE over a ban on clergy access to the Bishop Henry Whipple Federal Building.

“Under federal law — both the Constitution and statute — it’s clear that the government can only limit the ability of somebody to practice their religious faith, including the ability to provide [or receive] pastoral care, in the least restrictive means possible given the circumstances,” Irina Vaynerman, the co-founder and lead attorney of Groundwork Legal, told me. “And here, a categorical bar from even entering the building, to offering that care to anyone who wants to receive, it was obviously not the least restrictive means.”

Groundwork filed that suit in February on behalf of multi-denominational faith organizations and faith leaders under both the federal Religious Freedom Restoration Act and the First Amendment’s free exercise protections. They won a preliminary injunction in March, with a judge ordering the federal government to allow faith leaders to offer pastoral care to those held by ICE at the building.

Catholic clergy and religious leaders launched a similar suit last fall in Illinois after ICE and CBP officials denied clergy access to the Broadview federal center to minister to detained people — including offering Communion to them. They won a partial victory this year, when a judge ordered federal agents to allow clergy access for Ash Wednesday services — and in May, ICE and religious leaders reached an agreement to allow daily visits once again while litigation plays out. 

Vaynerman reiterated to me that the Illinois case is still playing out — these agreements and changes are temporary reprieves, in part because no national protections or guarantees have been formalized beyond piecemeal fights over religious liberty and free exercise in specific cities and around specific federal buildings or places of worship.

“Certainly this is something that we know folks are experiencing across the country…and we know that this is happening all over the country because there is not a standard protocol or policies related to this incredibly important constitutional and statutory right,” she said. “It is so important that the government recognizes [the importance of pastoral care] and then offers that level of access that is constitutionally required to support people going through one of the darkest times in their lives.”