The Trump administration’s construction project in Big Bend National Park, which is destroying the area’s pristine environment to build more of President Donald Trump’s border wall, is temporarily on hold following bipartisan outrage over the environmental damage.
“CBP is pausing all construction activity in Big Bend National Park while I visit and conduct a personal, on-the-ground evaluation,” Rodney Scott, head of Customs and Border Protection, posted on X Monday. “CBP is firmly committed to protecting America, and that includes our national treasures like Big Bend National Park.”
Last summer, Congress gave the Trump administration $46 billion to construct a wall from the Pacific Ocean to the Gulf of Mexico, a project that is happening with little to no oversight in order to fast track construction.
Big Bend, bordering Mexico in West Texas, features volcanic dikes, dinosaur bones and stunning canyon views. In July, the Trump admin waived restrictions on construction, allowing bulldozing and parts of the border wall and roads to be built, drawing the ire of environmental groups and the National Parks Conservation Association, which has warned that the damage could last generations.
“Bulldozing Big Bend National Park is an unconscionable attack on one of America’s greatest treasures,” Tiernan Sittenfeld, National Parks Conservation Association President and CEO, told USA Today. “The administration is slashing through miles of this wild landscape, threatening access to recreation and harming sensitive wildlife habitat.”
The Big Bend project is on hold for now, but on Tuesday, the Trump admin advanced plans to open up approximately 45 million acres of wilderness in places like Alaska’s Tongass National Forest to road construction and logging, removing protections that have been in place for a quarter century, according to the New York Times. The move will rescind the “roadless rule” enacted by President Bill Clinton, opening up millions of acres of untouched wilderness to destruction.
“By ripping protections from some of our oldest intact forests, the Trump administration is endangering the drinking water supplies of tens of millions and threatening wildlife habitats and recreation opportunities in almost every state,” Drew McConville, a senior fellow at the Center for American Progress, told the Times.
None of this is entirely surprising given how Trump eroded environmental protections for national parks in his first term, such as shrinking the size of Bears Ears and Grand Staircase-Escalante National Monuments in Utah. Those efforts were challenged in federal court, but in his second term, Trump has doubled down on his efforts to reshape these and other parks. It’s not yet clear how bad the damage is, but it’s also evident that Trump is just getting started.
The fame machine is a distinctly American invention. In what other country is it wired into people’s heads from the moment they can coherently string together five words that they, too, can be a star if they work hard enough and dream big enough? Here, “fame” doesn’t merely suggest flashy movie-star celebrity; it’s a status you can attain in any industry, so long as you climb to its upper ranks. Fame is a bedfellow of the newer, more modern American dream, which promises not only contentment, but success, as a reward for ambition, ravaging the lifestyles of millions of people in the process. It’s getting harder to be happy with what one has, and even more difficult to stop destroying ourselves — either with contempt for others or regret for what we perceive as imperfection — in striving for more. America might not have a monarchy, but that doesn’t mean most of us won’t try to bow at fame’s feet at some point. Each trade has its kings and queens, its princes and princesses.
When news broke of actress Hayden Panettiere’s death at the age of 36 late last week, the immediate aftermath felt like watching the fame machine go on the fritz, rumbling and sputtering before outpouring a swath of both genuine grief and rubbernecking greed. Those who grew up watching Panettiere light up screens both big and small were devastated. Others — maybe even a subset of the same people — jumped to alarmism and misinformation. After an extended hiatus from acting, Panettiere was returning to work and primed for an even bigger comeback. Earlier this summer, she detailed her struggles with postpartum depression, abuse, child stardom, addiction and recovery in her memoir, “This Is Me: A Reckoning.” Many assumed her death was a result of any one of these. (First responders found Panettiere in cardiac arrest, but no exact cause of death is known at the time of writing.)
Considered alongside its stars’ tragically brief lives, “Ice Princess” conveys the critical need to give teenagers both stalwart encouragement and the tools to speak up when they need help. And while the movie’s legacy looks a little more macabre now, Panettiere and Trachtenberg’s glimmering performances are enough to push through the darkness.
Within hours, conspiracies about Panettiere being killed for speaking out about Hollywood appeared online. A TikTok search for her name brings up ghoulish videos with thousands of views: “Last video of Hayden Panettiere alive”; “Nobody realized Hayden made three unusual moves before her death.” CBS News posted audio of the 911 response call to their TikTok page just this morning. It’s as if, in the untimely death of a famous person — especially a former child star — particles of their fame dissipate into the air, leaving the desperate and discontent to try to snatch a piece of their own before it dissolves completely.
Some of Panettiere’s most notable roles point back to this phenomenon, with her TV arcs in series like “Heroes” and “Nashville,” at their cores, tracking the effects of the whole world watching and depending on you. But it’s her 2005 Disney film, “Ice Princess” — one of my first experiences with Panettiere’s work — that’s most illustrative of both fame’s pitfalls and the culture that cosigns them in the name of success. In the movie, Panettiere plays Gen Harwood, an archetypal most-popular-girl-in-school and less-than-standard teenage ice-skating prodigy. Though her form and marks in the sport are good, real success is just out of Gen’s reach. That is, until physics geek Casey Carlyle (Michelle Trachtenberg, another child star gone far too soon) begins studying the science of Gen’s skating in hopes of scoring a college scholarship.
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Casey and Gen’s journey from competitors to confidantes is the film’s familiar emotional center, but tucked into an unfamiliar narrative. Beneath its Disney dialogue and some smoothed-over depictions of the harsher realities of competitive sports, “Ice Princess” boasts winning messages about the pressures put on young people to achieve greatness at an age when they’re too young to define personal success. That the film is led by two young women who accomplished such greatness in their childhood and teenage years at the risk of their privacy and potentially their well-being is a tragically meta asterisk that will now hang over the movie forever.
But that doesn’t mean “Ice Princess” doesn’t still come loaded with hope and pertinent themes of personal choice, active listening, and cheering young people on in whatever they choose to do (within reason). Considered alongside its stars’ tragically brief lives, “Ice Princess” conveys the critical need to give teenagers both stalwart encouragement and the tools to speak up when they need help. And while the movie’s legacy looks a little more macabre now, Panettiere and Trachtenberg’s glimmering performances are enough to push through the darkness.
Casey and Gen are, for a Disney movie, as different as they come. Casey lives with her mother, Joan (Joan Cusack), in a cozy, rural house outside of town, where Casey skates for fun on the frozen pond in their backyard. Gen is your typical blonde suburbanite who wishes she could spend her Saturday nights at parties or with her friends, instead of in intensive training on the ice, coached by her mother, Tina (Kim Cattrall). Gen and Casey aren’t enemies, but they’re not exactly friends, either. But when Casey’s science teacher encourages her to apply for a college scholarship that could change her entire life — and make the project she submits as part of her application personal — Casey’s affection for ice skating becomes a thorn in Gen and Tina’s side.
The two girls are thrown together by their mutual commitment to their passions, science and skating. What Gen and Casey want is to enjoy these things for the personal thrills they offer. Fame or excellence in either field seems to be the desire of their parents and other adult figures in their lives. “People wait their whole life to find their calling,” Casey’s teacher tells her about the scholarship, asserting that a natural fluency in science means it must be her destiny. These sentiments are reflected by Joan, who desperately wants more for her daughter than she’s been able to provide on her own teacher’s salary.
Tina, on the other hand, gets to the point with candor. “You’re not like other girls,” Tina tells Gen when her daughter asks why she can’t take a half-hour break from training to be with her boyfriend. “Winners make sacrifices.” For Gen, those sacrifices come at the expense of joy. Gen knows the exact measurements of her salad order and is strictly forbidden from eating any bread. Her practice doesn’t stop when the sun goes down. And attending a high school party is entirely out of the question. There is something genuinely quite heartbreaking about watching Panettiere, a young woman just coming to understand Hollywood industry standards, repeat the sickly refrains of a similarly demanding profession. When Gen orders cheese (in a strict one-quarter cup measurement) for her salad one afternoon, her friends poke fun at her. “It’s Saturday,” she replies, “I can pig out if I want to.”
With its focused screenplay, “Ice Princess” quickly cultivates an atmosphere that’s sympathetic to Gen and Casey. The film frames their lapses in rigor as the joys of being a teenager, rather than imperfections — or worse, weakness in the pursuit of glory. No 16-year-old should be so strictly confined to a routine that prevents them from actually living their life.
(Alli Harvey / Getty Images for Stuart Weitzman) (L-R) Hayden Panettiere and Michelle Trachtenberg attend the unveiling of Stuart Weitzman’s Young Hollywood Cares Collection in aid of ovarian cancer research during Fashion’s Night Out at Stuart Weitzman Boutique on September 8, 2011.
It’s ironic that, in the aftermath of Panettiere’s death, so much of the response has been about the lack of protections offered to child stars in the film and television industries, and not the content creation field. Social media is the new breeding ground for the kind of toxicity that the people mining Panettiere’s death for views purport to abhor.
But that’s not the message that America is selling. The same tracks to success still exist for young people gifted in sports or science. But fame as a general concept also seems much more attainable than it did 21 years ago. Teenagers want to grow up to be influencers or TikTokers, spending a significant portion of their youth creating content about life instead of actually living it.
It’s a lifestyle not entirely dissimilar to the rigorous training of an ice-skating prodigy, putting in the work at all hours to hone their skill. But it does strike me as odd that, in the aftermath of Panettiere’s death, so much of the response was about the lack of protections offered to child stars in the film and television industries, and not the rapidly booming content creation field. How ironic that social media is the new breeding ground for the kind of toxicity that the people mining Panettiere’s death for views purport to abhor.
That dissonance is a big part of why “Ice Princess” holds up today. One could even argue that it’s now an even more critical part of Panettiere and Trachtenberg’s legacies. The film is no longer just a tender-hearted story of fame and all its drawbacks, but also a look at two women who bravely wrestled with those flaws, making a major impact in the short time they were here. When they’re on screen, Panettiere and Trachtenberg shine through all the Disney conventions, their characters pointing back to their real selves.
Each one has her singular presence — Trachtenberg plucky and inspiring; Panettiere charming and bold — but together, they’re beautiful complements. Panettiere’s grounded presence helps untether the film from its somewhat corny conceit, giving it authentic complexity. She deviates from the one-note mean girl role, supplying Gen with dimensionality and kindness that characters like these were rarely afforded. That Gen’s growing discontent with skating is so closely linked to Panettiere’s real-life trajectory — trying to figure out where she fits in a ruthless industry — is a sour cherry on top: unexpected, but worth embracing. Though the importance of “Ice Princess” is obscured by histrionic high school drama and feel-good fluff, it remains a vital work for teaching parents and kids of all ages that success is what you make of it. And none of that would be possible without its two forever-shining stars.
The act itself — appointing a crony and longtime friend to an important government job — was not unusual. It’s not even unprecedented for them to appoint family members. (See: Kennedy, President John F. and Attorney General Robert F.) But Donald Trump’s appointment of Todd Blanche, his former criminal defense attorney, as attorney general may be a first, and not because Blanche has been a close associate. What’s striking about it is the fact that the president needed a criminal defense attorney in the first place.
On Sunday Blanche made his first appearance since his confirmation on “Meet the Press”, and from the first seconds of the interview he made it clear that his new, permanent position would not change his understanding of his role as the president’s apparatchik. When host Kristen Welker pressed him on whether he would act independently, Blanche did not mince words. “No, I’m not going to pledge that,” he said. “No attorney general should ever pledge that.”
Blanche clearly believes that his job is to run the Justice Department by doing the president’s bidding. But he did take time to assure the country that Trump had never, and would never, ask him to do anything unethical or illegal, so we needn’t worry our pretty little heads about that. “There is this extraordinarily false narrative that the president wakes up in the morning and calls me and says, ‘Todd, go prosecute X or Y,’” Blanche said. “He does not do that. He has never done that. He will never do that.”
Well, we know that isn’t true, don’t we? Aside from the mountain of evidence of Trump’s unethical, vengeful public rhetoric, we also have the September 2025 Truth Social draft post he mistakenly published in which he demanded that then-Attorney General Pam Bondi prosecute his political enemies, saying “They’re all guilty as hell” and complaining “They impeached me twice, and indicted me (5 times!), OVER NOTHING. JUSTICE MUST BE SERVED, NOW!!!” Ultimately, Bondi was fired in part for failing to get the indictments he ordered for former FBI director James Comey, California Sen. Adam Schiff and New York Attorney General Letitia James. Blanche won’t make that same mistake.
When Welker asked him how he squares his and the president’s commitment to prosecute anyone who “inappropriately touches” a law enforcement officer after Trump’s pardons of the violent Jan. 6 criminals, Blanche essentially replied that pardons are the president’s business and they have nothing to do with him. (In fact, the Justice Department’s Office of the Pardon Attorney has traditionally had oversight of the process.) Unfortunately, Welker didn’t point this out in a follow-up, nor did she ask him about his role as deputy attorney general in overseeing the firings of the department’s prosecutors and staff members who worked on the Jan. 6 cases.
The irony is that this is exactly the kind of interference in the Justice Department that precipitated the rules and norms that call for the attorney general to operate at arm’s length from the White House. Admittedly, it’s a complicated role; the attorney general is a prominent member of the Cabinet, but is also expected to act independently. Some have been more successful at that than others, and at times attorneys general on both sides of the aisle have been thorns in the side of the presidents they serve.
In the 1990s, Janet Reno’s liberal use of the independent counsel statute, which resulted in several investigations against the Clinton administration, caused the president and his staff heartburn. But although he may have groused privately, Bill Clinton did not retaliate against her; Reno remained at the Justice Department throughout his two terms. On the other hand, John Ashcroft’s refusal to allow the George W. Bush administration to override the Justice Department’s finding that a covert domestic surveillance program was illegal — which included a “showdown” at the severely ill Ashcroft’s hospital bedside in March 2004 — helped ensure he was replaced in Bush’s second term.
By and large, administrations respected the formal guardrails that were enacted in the wake of Watergate, which saw Richard Nixon manipulate the Justice Department for his own political protection.
After the so-called Saturday Night Massacre on Oct. 20, 1973, which saw Nixon fire the special prosecutor investigating the Watergate break-in, and subsequent revelations of Nixon’s abuses of power — including the fact that his Attorney General John Mitchell was personally involved in the planning of the Watergate break-in — Congress enacted a series of reforms to insulate the Justice Department from political pressure and interference. The Justice Department itself created guidelines to make the department a “neutral zone” to ensure that while the president could set national law enforcement goals, the White House would not be involved in specific investigations and prosecutions.
For the most part, administrations stuck to those regulations for decades, although the Republicans started pushing the envelope even before Trump came along. Recall that in 2007 Bush’s second attorney general, Alberto Gonzales, was forced to resign when it became known that he had fired several U.S. attorneys when they failed to follow orders to go after Democratic politicians on dubious charges before elections.
While serious, even that is small potatoes to how Trump has blown the guidelines to smithereens. Like Nixon, Trump sees the Justice Department as a personal law firm that possesses all the power of the U.S. government to use for his own purposes. And since vengeance against his enemies is his top priority, the department is his chosen weapon.
At every step of the way — from deputy to acting attorney general, and now to holding the post in his own right following his narrow Senate confirmation — Todd Blanche has acted in Trump’s interest over that of the people of the United States.
At every step of the way — from deputy to acting attorney general, and now to holding the post in his own right following his narrow Senate confirmation — Todd Blanche has acted in Trump’s interest over that of the people of the United States. In further insult to the public, Blanche told NBC in April that they should be “happy” Trump is meddling in matters of the Justice Department. In his various roles, Blanche has helped cover up the Epstein files, and he personally signed a memorandum of understanding assuring the president that he and his family would never face an IRS audit again. Since he took office as deputy attorney general, some 16,000 to 20,000 personnel have left the Justice Department, apparently unwilling to go along with an edict bearing his imprimatur that Donald Trump is their “chief client.” Here, they’d been thinking their chief client was the American people.
During his interview with Welker, Blanche attempted to spin his refusal to ensure the department’s independence from Trump. “If I were to pledge I were to be independent of the White House, what that means is that if President Trump says, ‘I want the Department of Justice to go after every violent criminal in this country, which is what he has said — what you’re saying to me is I should say, ‘No sir, I’m not gonna do it,’” Blanche said. “So I will act with integrity, our prosecutors will act with integrity, we will prosecute without fear or any sort of favor, and that’s exactly what we have been doing.”
With over two years left in Trump’s presidency, I can’t even begin to contemplate what Blanche will do on his behalf. Whatever happens will be cloaked in lies — and followed by gaslighting.
In the year the United States celebrates the 250th anniversary of its break with the British crown, there is something almost painfully ironic about a broadcaster from the kingdom that once ruled us now being more willing to stand up to Donald Trump than much of the American establishment. But the irony isn’t really the story. The story is that the president filed a $10 billion lawsuit to punish the BBC, and in doing so, he may have handed the corporation a legal instrument to drag his children Ivanka and Donald Jr., and his son-in-law Jared Kushner, into a Miami courtroom to answer for what happened on Jan. 6.
The lawsuit was supposed to be another exercise in the familiar Trumpian playbook: File a claim, demand an astronomical sum, bury the target in legal expenses, force a humiliating settlement that gets marketed as a political win. That strategy has worked before. In 2024, ABC News agreed to pay $15 million after network anchor George Stephanopoulos inaccurately said Trump had been found liable for rape. Paramount later paid more than $24 million over CBS News’ handling of an interview with Vice President Kamala Harris that took place during the 2024 presidential race. With that track record, Trump had every reason to expect the BBC to fold in the same way.
He miscalculated badly. As a public service corporation, the BBC operates under a royal charter that explicitly bars it from entering into out-of-court financial settlements to make litigation disappear. It cannot cut a check to sweep away Trump’s claims. The corporation is legally bound to fight until a verdict is reached — or until Trump himself gives up. And its defense team, anchored by the First Amendment firm Ballard Spahr, has used that obligation to go straight at the people closest to Trump on Jan. 6.
The underlying claim concerns a 2024 documentary about Trump’s candidacy that aired on “Panorama.” Titled “Trump, A Second Chance?”, the program edited together separate portions of Trump’s Jan. 6 speech so that it sounded as though he said, in immediate sequence, “We’re going to walk down to the Capitol and I’ll be there with you,” followed by “we fight, we fight like hell.” Those lines were actually spoken nearly an hour apart, and the BBC has apologized for how the edit was constructed. But the corporation has not apologized for the underlying accusation — because the documentary’s producers and the BBC’s lawyers believe it is true. The BBC has also noted the documentary never aired in the U.S., including in Florida, which creates its own problem for Trump’s attempt to establish the legal connection between the broadcast and the injury he claims to have suffered.
But the discovery fight is where this stopped being a media dispute and became a family liability. Because the entire defamation claim hinges on Trump’s intent — on what he meant by the phrase “fight like hell” — the BBC’s lawyers moved to subpoena the people who helped draft that speech and who were closest to him as the Capitol riot unfolded. On Aug. 14, the BBC asked a federal court in Miami for permission to compel testimony and records from Kushner, Ivanka Trump, Donald Trump Jr. and Kushner concerning the drafting and meaning of the speech.
According to the BBC’s own filings, Donald Jr. and Ivanka were in the room while the speech was being revised and were present when it was delivered. Kushner drafted a statement condemning the Capitol violence that the White House never issued. He also reportedly told then-chief of staff Mark Meadows the situation was “getting really ugly” as it unfolded, while Trump Jr. texted Meadows begging him to get his father to “condemn this” immediately.
These are not neutral bystanders being swept into a media spat. They are three people who watched the fire get lit and, by their own contemporaneous words, knew exactly what was burning.
These are not neutral bystanders being swept into a media spat. They are three people who watched the fire get lit and, by their own contemporaneous words, knew exactly what was burning. And if the case proceeds, they may have to say so under oath.
Trump’s own conduct made this exposure worse. The BBC also sought his financial records to test the legitimacy of the massive damages he claimed to have suffered — a maneuver that prompted him to quietly abandon his monetary claims rather than open his ledgers to public scrutiny. His lawyers had previously dismissed the request as a “fishing expedition.” But this is how discovery works: If you claim a broadcast inflicted extraordinary economic harm, the defendant gets to test that claim. Trump built the case that now threatens to expose his own children and son-in-law, and he built it because he assumed no one would ever call his bluff.
But the most revealing part of the BBC’s filing isn’t the subpoenas themselves — it’s the account of what happened when the network tried to serve them. Process servers attempting to deliver subpoenas to Ivanka and Kushner at their fortified Miami residence in May were physically blocked by local law enforcement, who directed them to coordinate through the Secret Service. When the BBC’s legal team did exactly that, Secret Service counsel Troy Epstein flatly declared the agency was neither authorized to accept service on the family’s behalf nor willing to help facilitate it. The BBC says it also could not serve Trump Jr. at Trump Tower. It has now asked the court for permission to use alternative methods — email or certified mail — because the ordinary machinery of American process service has been quietly closed off by a federal agency to a foreign broadcaster trying to hold the president’s family accountable.
That is the part of this story that should trouble people well beyond press freedom circles. Taxpayer-funded federal security agencies are being used as a private shield for a political dynasty, deployed to physically block the basic mechanics of a civil lawsuit that Trump himself initiated. It echoes the darker pattern already established around this family and this date — the Secret Service’s unexplained failure to preserve text messages and call logs from around Jan. 6, and allegations that agents played a role in intimidating witnesses like former Trump aide Cassidy Hutchinson before her explosive congressional testimony. A protective detail meant to keep the first family safe is being repurposed to keep it unaccountable.
Trump has responded predictably, complaining that the BBC is “abusing the deposition process.” His projection is transparent. Nobody dragged his family into this. He is the plaintiff. He asked for $10 billion. He put his own reputation, his financial losses and the meaning of his own speech at the center of a case he chose to bring, and in doing so he opened the door to exactly the kind of scrutiny now aimed at Ivanka, Donald Jr. and Kushner. A defendant testing the plaintiff’s claims isn’t harassment. It’s the legal process working according to centuries of jurisprudence — just as the president intended.
None of this guarantees the subpoenas will be enforced, or that Ivanka, Donald Jr. or Kushner will ever sit for testimony. The court could still limit the subpoena’s scope, and the family’s lawyers will fight the serving of them on every available ground. But the posture itself matters.
While the BBC absorbs real financial strain from international litigation against a sitting American president, it has refused to play the domestic game of corporate capitulation that has defined how ABC, CBS and so many other news outlets have handled Trump’s legal threats. It punched back in the fight Trump started and pushed it toward the people who were actually in the room on Jan. 6 — the same people the taxpayer-funded Secret Service is now, apparently, working to keep out of reach.
Pencils are more expensive. So are notebooks, scissors, glue sticks — just about every back-to-school item that families will load into their literal or virtual carts this summer has gone up in price at a time when American families already feel crushed by rising costs.
According to one analysis of the 21 most common school supply items by the Groundwork Collaborative and The Century Foundation, two progressive think tanks, prices are up about 7.7 percent with parents paying an average of $173.45 for their school supply haul. That’s an even bigger jump than last year. Add to that an 11 percent hike in prices for school lunch essentials — from the literal tons of blueberries needed to feed young children to apple juice — and costs balloon to nearly $4,000 a year to cover supplies and meals.
That data was first shared exclusively with The 19th. The analysis is based on weekly retail transaction data on millions of products collected by NielsenIQ from about 50,000 retailers.
With school supply costs outpacing inflation, many families — and especially the women who do the majority of purchases in American households — are going to feel the sticker shock, said Lindsay Owens, the president and CEO of the Groundwork Collaborative.
“Women in this country are rip-roaring mad about the price hikes that they’re absorbing. They’re trying to manage household finances and budgeting. They’re trying to feed their kids healthy food,” Owens said. “The work is getting harder of providing for your family.”
Here are the school supplies with the biggest spikes in price:
Lunch boxes are up 27 percent
Notebooks, notebook paper, tissues and index cards are all up about 20 percent
Scissor costs rose 14 percent
Dry erase markers and glue sticks are up 8 percent
Headphones, binders, crayons, colored pencils and No. 2 pencils increased between 5 and 7 percent
On the lunch side:
12 ounces of blueberries are up a whopping 48 percent
A loaf of sandwich bread is up 22 percent
Apple juice prices have risen 20 percent
A pound of oranges has risen 17 percent
A box of packaged animal crackers will run you nearly 16 percent more
A package of chocolate chip cookies is up 14 percent
Driving up some of these costs are tariffs and the war on Iran.
Take blueberries, which American families have increasingly been eating more of every year, particularly those with berry-aged children who pop them like M&Ms. About half of the berries Americans eat are imported, many from Peru, which is now increasingly selling its berries to China instead of the United States because of tariff increases.
The other half of America’s blueberries are grown domestically, a good portion of them in Maine, the top producer of wild berries in the country. But tariffs on steel and aluminum have made it more costly to purchase the equipment needed to harvest the crops.
“Our consumers, our manufacturers, our blueberry growers, and more will all continue to pay the price,” Sen. Susan Collins, the Republican from Maine, wrote to the Department of Commerce in December.
Similarly, many school supplies are produced overseas, like pencils and crayons, which are predominantly imported from Brazil, China, Mexico and India. The war in Iran, which has raised fuel and shipping costs, has directly impacted imports and those price increases are being passed on to consumers. Though inflation is showing signs of cooling, oil prices hit a six-week high in late July.
“Gas prices filter through to everything, but especially food,” Owens said. “The cost of transporting food goes up. The cost of farming goes up because the cost of diesel is up. The cost of plastic goes up, so the packaging around pencils or deli ham, that gets more expensive. All of that is going to filter through to higher food prices and higher prices for consumer goods like back-to-school staples.”
The problem is parents don’t have a lot of wiggle room on the matter, said Julie Margetta Morgan, the president of the Century Foundation. Kids need the supplies to be successful during the year, and parents, whether they’re low- or high-income, want to ensure their kids can thrive.
About half of parents expect to take on debt to cover back-to-school shopping this year, up from 34 percent in 2024, according to a survey of parents with kids under 18 conducted this summer by Intuit Credit Karma. One in five parents say they also feel pressure to keep up with what other parents are buying their kids, a June NerdWallet survey found.
“There’s a really strong actual cost — but also emotional cost — to having to make really impossible choices about caring for yourself and caring for your family in order to bear the costs of tariffs and of a war that seems impossible to explain why we’re involved in it,” Morgan said. “It is weighing particularly heavily on mothers.”
It’s around this time every year that Victoria Albano starts to cut back on any expenses for herself to make sure she can cover all the back-to-school items for her 6-year-old daughter, who is entering first grade this year. A July trip to Target to get everything on her list — among the items, two packs of wired headphones, Band-Aids, eight folders and four composition notebooks — cost about $230.
Albano, her husband and her daughter moved to Duluth, Georgia, three years ago because housing costs squeezed them out of New Jersey. They swapped their $2,500-a-month, two-bedroom apartment there for a $2,000-a-month, three-bedroom home in Georgia. But even with the savings, utility and gas prices remain high, Albano said. School supplies are another stressor.
Recently, she said, “I was up all night trying to figure out what to buy and what not to buy.”
“I’m not struggling, but I’m not where I want to be,” Albano said.
When Albano, a full-time content creator, posts her school supply hauls on social media, a deluge of messages come in from moms desperately asking Albano to donate items to their kids.
Many families cite living under that financial stress, said Ailen Arreaza, the executive director of ParentsTogether, a national nonprofit that works to engage parents politically. In the organization’s surveys, about 70 percent of parents cite experiencing financial strain, with little relief in sight.
It’s all further complicated by the loss of government benefits over the past year. More than 4 million Americans, including 1.5 million children, have lost their benefits through SNAP, the food assistance program that helps low-income people buy groceries. That makes family budgets even tighter going into the new school year.
“It feels like we are a little bit at a breaking point,” Arreaza said. “The concern and the situation just feels untenable right now.”
To get by, parents are searching their local back-to-school fairs for supplies, or seeking out backpack giveaways and school supply distributions. Some families are working more over the summer to cover increased costs.
By the time November’s midterm elections roll around, some of this pressure is likely to be on parents’ minds in an election that will no doubt center affordability. Both parties face uncertainty heading into the midterms.
Right now, Arreaza said, “parents are so busy and focused on their day-to-day and November feels far away and the election can feel far away for parents, but the reality of what is happening everyday feels very real for families.”
Even if folks aren’t thinking about the election, she said, “they’re thinking about the system that is making it harder for them and they’re noticing the differences.”
Beneath the shadows of indigo-streaked clouds, a young woman strolls through a fog-covered city, stopping at the base of a skyscraper. She looks up, eyes following every square inch of the structure until the point where it juts past the clouds and into the dark atmosphere above, beyond where she can see. She is the princess, and this is the castle she’ll be locked in, an indomitable beast of a citadel fittingly titled the Tower Hotel.
“How hokey,” you might say, “a modern princess trapped in a luxury high-rise.” But really, everything in “Her Private Hell” is contrivance. Writer-director Nicolas Winding Refn — “NWR,” as he’s taken to branding himself — isn’t exactly known for his subtlety. His previous feature, 2016’s love-it-or-hate-it loony toon “The Neon Demon,” was a modeling industry semi-satire that featured beauties quite literally gobbling up their ingenue competition. It’s really no surprise that his first film in 10 years would arrive with its thematic commentary just as legible.
But that’s where the fun begins. Once the viewer understands where Refn is headed, they can submit themselves to his grotesque neon visions. His appeal as a filmmaker lies in his stylistic flair; the joy comes from watching him marry the aesthetically manicured with the ideologically bizarre. Whether it’s a union of love or force is another matter. NWR’s high concepts and their abrasive execution don’t always coalesce. But when they do, it’s like watching a magic trick play out before your eyes, leaving you so stunned you’re stammering, unable to utter even a single “How?”
(Neon) “Her Private Hell”
Refn’s cold, theoretical violence and Thatcher’s knack for affected, high-glamor drama are a match made in DayGlo heaven. Her work is unlike anything I’ve seen this year, a ruthless and surprising turn from someone who’s struggled to find the right type of script for her unique style and physicality.
“Her Private Hell” is Refn’s greatest trick yet: A beguiling fairy tale for a lost lamb named Elle (Sophie Thatcher). In this story, Elle is the archetypal royalty figure, thrust through a kaleidoscope of Refn’s signature bright pinks and blues and spit back into the tower where she passes her days, waiting for her savior to arrive. But as she greets her fate and rides the elevator to her penthouse prison, Elle strolls past Hunter (Kristine Froseth), a real-life Sleeping Beauty, napping on the lush chairs in the hallway outside. Elle and Hunter are due to shoot a movie together, which Elle’s father, the filmmaker Johnny Thunders (Dougray Scott), will produce. “The airline lost my luggage because of the Mist,” Hunter tells Elle. Ugh. Of course. The Mist seems to be screwing up everything these days.
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In the extraordinary abstraction that follows, Thatcher finds her ideal role as one of NWR’s stilted avatars, gussied up in couture and spouting riddles. Her energy rises and falls alongside the mysterious mist, which has engulfed the city and brought whispers of a mysterious ancient entity lurking in its haze. Thatcher performs as if this was the part she was born for, and it very well may be.
Refn’s cold, theoretical violence and Thatcher’s knack for affected, high-glamor drama are a match made in DayGlo heaven. Her work is unlike anything I’ve seen this year, a ruthless and surprising turn from someone who’s struggled to find the right type of script for her unique style and physicality. If there is a God, somewhere amid all this mist, “Her Private Hell” will be Thatcher’s entrée to a new era of hyper-ostentatious, Elizabethan — Taylor, that is — cinematic elegance, a large void in the once-plentiful pool of subgenres that only she can fill.
Thatcher has been searching for her niche for a moment, but the delay hasn’t been for lack of trying. Since her breakthrough in Showtime’s “Yellowjackets” in 2021 — where she plays the troubled teenager Natalie, fighting for survival in the Canadian wilderness alongside her high school soccer teammates after their plane crash-lands — Thatcher’s had more than a few substantive roles. In 2024’s “Heretic,” she played a Mormon missionary lured into a violent theological maze by a wicked Hugh Grant. And in 2025’s “Companion,” Thatcher scored a decent turn as a sex robot with her programming on the fritz after she’s implicated in a murder plot. If those films sound preposterous, it’s because they are. “Heretic” was underbaked and half-thought, while “Companion” tried to create big laughs and bigger action from minuscule ideas. Thatcher, though, was far and away the best part of both films, bringing a striking depth to her thinly sketched characters.
But one gets the sense that Thatcher’s worried about being pigeonholed. “Yellowjackets,” “Heretic” and “Companion” are all horror-thrillers. And Thatcher’s other film roles in 2023’s “The Boogeyman” and a bit part in the following year’s “MaXXXine” certainly don’t help Hollywood’s perception of her as a wannabe scream queen. The perennial problem with horror, even contemporary horror, is that it’s an extremely difficult genre to migrate from. But Thatcher’s talents extend past genre confines. She conjures a bewitching onscreen presence that many of her contemporaries could only dream of, pulling the viewer’s gaze with a single glare from her steely eyes or the quiver of her chin. The same grin can look menacing or jovial, depending on how Thatcher contorts the rest of her features. What’s more, there’s an ease to all of these things — a soft tenderness that counterbalances the frigidity — as if such intensity comes casually. And maybe it does.
With “Her Private Hell,” Thatcher has found an auteur who matches her refreshing self-assurance. Here, Refn lets it all go and indulges in his every artistic impulse, drenching a Brian De Palma-inspired deception in neon (and bringing in De Palma’s longtime collaborator, Pino Donaggio, for a resplendent score better than anything you’ve heard this decade). Thatcher isn’t so different from De Palma’s muses either. The naive exuberance of Nancy Allen, the innate sex appeal of Melanie Griffith and Michelle Pfeiffer, the informal immorality of Amy Irving; Thatcher has it all, rolled into one captivating package. When Elle and Hunter witness the brutal murder of a neighbor across the way — presumably by the mist’s fabled entity, The Leatherman — Refn completes the thread that ties his violent vapidity, where pretty girls do ugly things, to De Palma’s voyeuristic dreaminess. If you’re a fan of film and all the places it can take you, you can’t do much better than this.
“Her Private Hell” is not merely glittering debris, as some have posited, nor is it style over substance; it’s a campfire story told by Thatcher’s unearthly orator, with just as much chilling impact.
That is until Thatcher ratchets up the eerie tension tenfold while Refn builds his gorgeous fantasy around her. When Elle’s father unexpectedly departs, leaving her to finish shooting her movie in the care of her not-so-wicked stepmother, Dominique (Havana Rose Liu), the pair’s psychosexual strain further complicates matters. Before Dominique married Elle’s father, the two were the best of friends. As strange as it is, their dynamic seems to alter everything around them, as if their mutual destiny were written in the stars — not that anyone can see the stars with all this mist, that is.
For a director who’s staked a name on films and television shows that are narratively impenetrable, “Her Private Hell” may feel like a big ask for some viewers. And I get that, I do. The movie sways almost imperceptibly between Elle’s quest for the truth and the haunting story of Private K (Charles Melton), a soldier who lost everything to the mist and its monstrous entity the last time it immersed the city. It can occasionally feel as if Refn is playing a game with you, softly whispering if you’re still there. But though some have complained about what they call “a total lack of plot,” I simply must object, and not just on behalf of Thatcher, whose work is worth seeking out even if you don’t jive with Refn’s aesthetic obsessions.
There is so much to admire with “Her Private Hell” — too much for just one go-round. It’s not only gripping, but extremely intricate if you’re brave enough to get on its level. Two women witness the strange murder of a neighbor and begin to believe that something could be lurking in the mist that’s enveloped the Earth. When they start shooting a movie together, they begin to understand their connection to this ancient evil, and their place in a cyclical inferno wrought by absent parents and bad weather. They soon understand that to be heartbroken is to be damned to know the exquisite pain of being alive. This film is not merely glittering debris, as some have posited, nor is it style over substance; it’s a campfire story told by Thatcher’s unearthly orator.
As the night grows black and the last embers start to dull, “Her Private Hell” sends you off to bed wondering if it could all be true. Thatcher’s warbly voice hangs in the air; tales of the Leatherman and lost daughters spinning around your brain as you try to fall asleep. “None of this is real,” you tell yourself, turning off your brain for a good night’s rest. But just then, a piercing pink light appears outside, and a low, opaque mist begins to creep through the seams of your tent. As it turns out, the fantastical has much more grounding in reality than we ever want to imagine.
The tale of Donald Trump sneaking off Air Force One in a catering truck captured public attention for many reasons. It was a reminder that, for all his tough talk, the president harbors a sense of fear. Hiding away in a glorified ice chest would also have been a blow to the 80-year-old’s dignity. But the charade, which was first revealed by the Washington Post, also gave us insight, as political scientist Scott Lemieux wrote, “into who he considers his actual inner circle.”
Left behind on the decoy plane were Secretary of State Marco Rubio, Treasury Secretary Scott Bessent, White House deputy chief of staff Stephen Miller and other administration officials and aides. The only people deemed worthy of saving from Iran’s reported threat were people whose full-time jobs are tending the president’s body and, more importantly, his ego: Natalie Harp, who writes Trump love letters, and whose main job is showing him flattering social media posts. Body man Walt Nauta. Dan Scavino, Trump’s former golf caddie. Oh yeah, and Pete Hegseth.
The defense secretary’s inclusion on this list does not suggest he is an especially well-regarded or important person, especially when other prominent Cabinet members — not to mention White House reporters — were left vulnerable to the rumored assassination threat. On the contrary, his inclusion in Trump’s flock of flatterers is another sign that Hegseth’s main skill is fluffing up the narcissist-in-chief. It helps explain how Hegseth — unlike former Cabinet members such as former Attorney General Pam Bondi or former Homeland Secretary Kristi Noem, who recently lots their jobs — seems in no danger of losing his job, even as his manifest incompetence is a big part of the reason Trump is losing the war with Iran. He may be bad at running the military, but Hegseth is good at lying to (and attacking) the press and stroking his boss’s ego, which are the only skills that count in Trump’s White House.
Recent news about the ongoing disaster aboard the USS Abraham Lincoln is another reminder of why Hegseth may indeed lead the highly competitive race to be the most hated man in Washington. Both Stars and Stripes and the Military Times reported that multiple service members had attempted to jump off the aircraft carrier, which has been deployed for over eight months without any real breaks. Sailors are reportedly “struggling with exhaustion and declining morale, including reports of suicidal thoughts,” explained Alison Bath of Stars and Stripes.
The details coming from family members offer a chilling illustration of how little regard Hegseth has for the actual well-being of service members, even as he releases videos implying they have low testosterone levels or berates them for being “fat” or “beardos.” Sailors have reported being fed “rotten” food or barely being fed at all, and desperate family members have been begging the Navy for relief. The wife of one sailor told MS NOW’s Priya Sidhar that the company is working 12-14 hour days and that her husband “said that he was exhausted working on the flight deck.” He also raised safety concerns with his superiors. “His prescription contact lenses had expired,” Sidhar reported, “and he told his chain of command that he couldn’t even see what he was doing, and he was worried about causing accidents.”
Hegseth, though, is shrugging off the concerns, telling reporters the issue is “completely misrepresented” and that the service members have “everything we can provide them at every single moment.”
Trump was even more callous and dishonest about the suffering of the sailors, saying that the deployment was “not nearly long enough,” even though, at over 260 days, it has set a record for the longest deployment. (On Friday, the acting Navy secretary announced the ship would be returning to the U.S. and replaced by the USS George Washington.)
Trump and Hegseth clearly share a disregard for the lives of the very service members they are asking to wage war on Iran. But the debacle also reveals how Hegseth’s twisted priorities appear to have endeared him to his boss, seemingly above every other sycophant surrounding the president. Beyond operating in the Northern Arabian Sea to aid in logistics and serve as a deterrent to Iran, it seems like the reason the USS Lincoln is being held in this Kafkaesque hell is to shore up the illusion — or perhaps even Trump’s delusion — that the war with the Islamic Republic will be over soon.
The president, desperate to keep stock markets afloat and MAGA voters on the hook, has been playing a game for months where he announces a “deal” with Iran to end the war, usually timed to the market’s opening bell, buoying stock prices. But the news invariably turns out to not be true. The danger for Trump is that investors might finally wise up and stop falling for false promises. Swapping out a major aircraft carrier deployed in the Middle East, as the Pentagon is now planning to do, could blow the whole game up, as it is a tacit admission that the war is not ending in the next few days, as we’ve been told is happening for months. Sunday’s news, reported by the Wall Street Journal, that Iran is secretly planning to “escalate the war” will also not help matters.
This pattern suggests Hegseth is far more concerned about his boss’s fixation on stock prices and media coverage than he is about listening to the advice of admirals, who have been bearing the brunt of complaints from families of service members over the USS Lincoln. Even by the low standards of Trump appointees, Hegseth has shown an eagerness to back up the president’s every lie and delusion, not matter the cost. This dubious distinction is no doubt why, even as he is shepherding what may turn out to be Trump’s most notable entry in a long list of failures, Hegseth was included in the small club of people Trump opted to save from a possible attack on Air Force One.
The secretary may be in Trump’s good graces, but in the real world, his reputation — which was never good to begin with, since he was comically unqualified for this job — is in the toilet. The American public loathes Hegseth. As CNN’s Harry Enten recently explained, at 22 points under water, Hegseth’s approval ratings are “the lowest of the low.”
Hegseth is also widely loathed by fellow Republicans on Capitol Hill, even as they held their noses and voted for him to pacify Trump. As POLITICO reported, Hegseth has been “regularly trekking to the Hill in recent weeks and hobnobbing with lawmakers,” asking them to pass the largest defense spending bill in history. This request — asking Republicans to spend lavishly on weapons — should be as easy as talking Hegseth into another round of martinis at breakfast. But GOP members are worried about the midterms, and they don’t want to answer for the Iran war or the equally unpopular defense secretary.
Hegseth is likely to stay, though, even as Trump posts on Truth Social that he’s “extremely happy with the job that Pete Hegseth is doing,” including “getting rid of DEI.” Sure, the secretary has mismanaged the military to the point that sailors are reportedly attempting suicide. But he has blocked the promotions of talented leaders who annoy MAGA by being women or Black, and that’s what really counts.
One sailor who reportedly jumped overboard is only 19 — practically still a kid. The terror and trauma Hegseth is inflicting him and his fellow service members in this losing war points to a man with no moral character at all. No wonder Trump loves him.
In late July, according to the FBI, utility companies in at least seven states experienced cyberattacks from “malicious cyber actors” who remotely accessed water management systems, causing loss of pressure and flooding. As it turned out, there were more hazards. The agency warned in a recent alert that “untreated ground water [could] seep into pipes.” At least 30 municipal water facilities were hit in Minnesota alone. These cyberattacks were likely launched by Iranian agents as part of Donald Trump’s ongoing war with the Islamic Republic he started alongside Israel, and they could become part of a new normal as the conflict drags on.
Now, in a memo released Wednesday, the White House is attempting to fight back against cybercrime by encouraging private companies to go after transnational criminal organizations “by incorporating the ingenuity of the private sector.” Details are vague, but a fact sheet hints at combatting “transnational cybercrime, fraud and other predatory schemes against American citizens,” such as ransomware attacks, phishing schemes and sextortion.
U.S. hacking laws prohibit individuals and companies from launching cyberattacks. According to TechCrunch, “the private sector can defend against incoming cyberattacks, but not launch of operate them,” a policy that spans several presidential administrations.
This program is still in the very early stages, with more guidance coming in the next few months. But there’s no way this could possibly backfire, right? I’m kidding: Even under normal circumstances, giving private companies this much power is likely to incentivize inventing enemies to fight or drive unnecessary spending. That’s the military-industrial complex in a nutshell.
You could say this program comes straight out of the Age of Sail, in which governments issued letters of marque and reprisal, licenses that authorized privateers to essentially practice legalized piracy, with private vessels attacking enemies of the state. Think of American shipping companies plundering British ships, which was common practice once upon a time. These letters haven’t been issued since the Civil War, but the parallel is obvious and creates shades of gray that could present major problems. Just look at Capt. William Kidd, who was hired by the British government to hunt pirates, but was later executed for being one.
Trump’s cyberattack program, in all likelihood, will just be another way for his tech-bro allies, like Peter Thiel of Palantir, to siphon more money from the government while doing next to nothing to actually protect Americans or improve their quality of life. This is especially concerning in light of recent news that the Homeland Security Department spied on left-leaning Minnesotans who criticized Immigration and Customs Enforcement. Think these tools and tactics won’t be used domestically? That would certainly buck the trend of U.S. tech companies that regularly surveil Americans, be it Flock Safety, whose ubiquitous cameras are being used to stalk people getting abortions, or Clearview AI, the facial recognition company that hunts migrants.
A better solution might be to invest more in improved cybersecurity and critical infrastructure, like the power grids that risk being hacked. As they say, the best defense is a good offense. A digital bill of rights would be a major part of that by boosting privacy and protecting the level of data that corporations can siphon up about ordinary people. An even simpler solution, come to think of it, would be not picking fights with other countries that are likely to fight back. Alas, that’s probably too obvious a strategy for our tech-illiterate president, and not enough of a slush fund for Silicon Valley. Maybe someday we’ll have leaders who understand the internet and the importance of avoiding perverse incentives. Until then, it’s a good idea to keep your system software updated and use a strong password.
Flock Safety claims over 5,000 law enforcement agencies use its license plate readers to help locate missing persons, catch thieves and identify suspicious vehicles. The company is most known for its camera network, which extracts data about cars from photographs and allows operators to search for vehicles by description or license plate number.
But there’s been another persistent, unsanctioned use: officers stalking women.
At least 50 law enforcement officers have been accused or charged with the misuse of Flock or similar tools, and over half of the incidents involve surveillance related to romantic partners, per a recent investigation by The Washington Post. The reports include officers of all genders, but many cases involve a uniformed man stalking a civilian woman — or the people close to her. Forty-six of the cases tallied by The Post involved Flock equipment.
But the problem is not only one company. Two law enforcement agencies in Colorado cut ties with Flock, only to shift contracts to Axon, another automatic license plate reader (APLR) vendor. The heart of the matter, advocates say, is this: New surveillance technologies are always appropriated to inflict intimate partner violence. Experts say systems like smart cameras and automated license plate readers are sold to the public as ways to increase safety, but there are few, if any, guardrails to prevent them from becoming tools of domestic violence.
LOVEINT, short for “love intelligence,” entered the lexicon in 2013 when National Security Agency (NSA) officials admitted some employees misused intelligence networks to spy on romantic partners. The revelation came as the country grappled with whistleblower Edward Snowden’s leaks exposing the vast reach of the agency’s surveillance. Snowden also talked about how intimate images stumbled upon by young NSA analysts would travel through the workplace.
Any technology that has the capacity for mass surveillance is inevitably used for gender violence, said Reem Suleiman, senior campaign director at Fight for the Future, a digital civil rights nonprofit. She helps organize an effort to “deflock” Lowe’s, one of the company’s largest commercial clients.
“Even if you can find a use case or some utility for it, you cannot actually guardrail away some of these inherent harms,” she said. And those harms most often come at the cost of vulnerable groups like women, LGBTQ+ people and people of color.
At the same time, survivors of domestic violence or stalking use these surveillance products for their advertised purpose: to monitor their personal safety. Products like Ring, doorbells with always-on recording capabilities, are easier to set up than a closed-circuit security system, but how the data will be used by surveillance tech companies varies from brand to brand and is often unclear. There is a difference in levels of disclosure and control between a police officer having to ask someone individually for their private surveillance footage versus submitting a request to a corporation that isn’t obligated to give notice to its customers when it shares their data.
Eva Galperin, director of cybersecurity at the Electronic Frontier Foundation, has spent years working with survivors of domestic violence. That led her to co-found the Coalition Against Stalkerware, an international working group tackling the problem of software tools frequently used to spy on unknowing romantic partners.
Her efforts led the antivirus software Kaspersky to begin flagging the tools known as stalkerware as a privacy threat to its customers instead of labeling it as benign. But companies go under and relaunch with new advertising all the time. Galperin said she has seen how creators of stalkerware have resisted changing their product function in favor of rewriting ad copy to say their software is meant for parents, employees or “building trust in relationships.”
In response to cases of law enforcement officers across the country improperly accessing Flock for personal reasons, the company rolled out a voluntary audit tool in April. It requires precincts to opt in, and only catches abuse after it happens.
“We’re not going to change humans, and humans make bad decisions,” Garrett Langley, CEO and co-founder of Flock, told The Post. “What we can do is make sure that they know if you use this tool, you will be held accountable.”
Lucy Qin, a postdoc at Georgetown University who researches privacy, pushed back against this framing: “Shorter-term fixes can band-aid the immediate problem but do not address a long-term pattern,” she said.
Galperin is similarly skeptical of any potential features that could meaningfully curb stalking: “It is not salvageable technology because of just the sheer scale of propensity to abuse.”
The abuse wasn’t necessarily unpredictable, either. Galperin pointed out that Flock is frequently used by police, a population generally shown to have above-average rates of domestic violence. Qin echoed that unauthorized use of surveillance data among law enforcement isn’t unprecedented.
Langley told a TED audience in April that the misuse of the company’s technology was “a trade-off I can make” compared to the number of investigations he said it assists with.
But the scale of the stalking problem isn’t fully known, Galperin said: “This is not a matter of a few people engaging in aberrant behavior. These are just the people who have gotten caught, and who have gotten caught so blatantly that they have experienced consequences.”
And those consequences tend to be mild: Several incidents in the Washington Post piece resulted in probation for offenders who used Flock inappropriately. Among the NSA employees who were caught for LOVEINT, the ones who didn’t resign were temporarily suspended or had security clearances revoked.
Getting to even that point can be difficult. Norma Buster is the chief of staff at C.A. Goldberg, a victim’s rights law firm focused on survivors of tech-enabled abuse. She handles intake for new clients, including those who are targeted by stalkers.
She said the team evaluates every circumstance individually, but typically helps clients currently experiencing stalking to file for a protective order. In New York, where the firm is located, people are only eligible for those if they are being stalked by a partner or ex-partner. This is a huge limitation, as Flock has been used by officers to track not just exes but the new beaus with whom they have moved on. C.A. Goldberg advocated for the CREEP Act, which would allow for protective orders to be filed against anyone for harassment regardless of relationship status. The bill is currently awaiting the signature or veto of Gov. Kathy Hochul.
After Marci Bakely’s ex-boyfriend confessed to using Flock to track her whereabouts in 2024, The Washington Post reported a judge denied her petition for a protective order, saying she had no evidence to back up her allegations of stalking.
Buster said there’s a digital literacy problem in the legal system; she saw this firsthand when she had difficulty finding a prosecutor to take up her own case involving image-based sexual abuse years ago.
Ultimately, Buster said, it’s on tech companies to make sure their products are safe before they are released into the world. She doesn’t consider herself a tech expert, but over the years said she’s worked with thousands of survivors of tech-facilitated violence. “If I can foresee this, then I think an engineer who’s designing the product can foresee it too.”
Hayden Panettiere, the former child actor who became a household name as an indestructible cheerleader on “Heroes” before starring as a troubled country singer on “Nashville,” has died. She was 36.
Panettiere’s representative confirmed her death to ABC News on Sunday. A cause and other details surrounding her death were not immediately disclosed.
Born Aug. 21, 1989, in Palisades, New York, Panettiere began appearing in commercials before her first birthday. She went on to roles in “One Life to Live,” “Guiding Light,” “A Bug’s Life,” “Remember the Titans” and “Ice Princess.”
Her breakout role came in 2006 as Claire Bennet, a high school cheerleader with regenerative powers, on NBC’s “Heroes.” The character inspired the show’s signature slogan: “Save the cheerleader, save the world.”
Panettiere later starred opposite Connie Britton as ambitious country singer Juliette Barnes on the ABC and CMT drama “Nashville.” The six-season role showcased her acting and singing abilities and earned her two Golden Globe nominations.
Her other credits included “Bring It On: All or Nothing” and the “Scream” franchise. Her return as Kirby Reed in 2023’s “Scream VI” marked her first major screen role after a long acting hiatus.
Panettiere spoke candidly about her experiences with addiction, an abusive relationship and postpartum depression following the birth of her daughter, Kaya, in 2014. Her younger brother, actor Jansen Panettiere, died unexpectedly at 28 in 2023.
In May, she released “This Is Me: A Reckoning,” a memoir about child stardom, motherhood, addiction and recovery. She also publicly came out as bisexual while promoting the book. She was also battling back from a severe lower back injury that left her almost paralyzed last year.
Panettiere is survived by her 11-year-old daughter and her parents, Lesley Vogel and Skip Panettiere. She died just five days before her 37th birthday.
Nicholas Brendon, the actor best known for playing Xander Harris on the late-90s cult classic tv show “Buffy the Vampire Slayer,” has died at age 54. His family announced he passed peacefully in his sleep on March 20, 2026. In recent years, Brendon was plagued with medical health issues. By 2023, he had a heart attack and was diagnosed with a congenital heart defect and cauda equina syndrome, the latter led to several spinal surgeries.
We are heartbroken to share the passing of our brother and son, Nicholas Brendon. He passed in his sleep of natural causes. pic.twitter.com/DqVQfVL8Xk
Brendon’s portrayal of Xander — the everyman of the Sunnydale crew, who navigated a world of vampires and slayers armed only with wit, loyalty, and heart — earned him a devoted following and a lasting place in television history.
Costars quickly paid tribute on social media. Sarah Michelle Gellar, who played Buffy, wrote a heartfelt post invoking one of Xander’s comforting lines, a nod to the actor’s warmth both on and off screen. Alyson Hannigan, who portrayed Willow, shared: “My Sweet Nicky, thank you for years of laughter, love and Dodgers … I love you.” David Boreanaz, Buffy’s vampire love interest Angel, praised Brendon’s authenticity and spirit, emphasizing the depth of their personal friendship beyond the show.
Just last year, the “Buffy” cast and fans said goodbye to Michelle Tractenberg, Buffy’s younger sister “Dawn” to many fans.
Fans also expressed grief online, remembering Xander as the heart of the group, a character whose vulnerability and humor made him relatable in a world of supernatural extremes. Many reflected on Brendon’s candidness about his personal struggles, celebrating his humanity alongside his talent.
Though Brendon faced challenges in his life and career, his work on Buffy remains a testament to his ability to connect with audiences through humor, loyalty, and emotional honesty. Xander Harris may have been the “normal” one in a cast of extraordinary characters, but Brendon’s performance ensured he was unforgettable — both to fans and to the colleagues who mourn his passing.
The top U.S. military commander in the Middle East visited the USS Abraham Lincoln on Saturday as the aircraft carrier’s exhausted crew nears the end of a nearly nine-month deployment marked by reports of deteriorating living conditions and mental health concerns.
Adm. Brad Cooper, commander of U.S. Central Command, spent several hours aboard the Lincoln meeting with sailors and Marines during a 10-day tour of the region. It was the only ship Cooper visited during the trip.
The visit comes as scrutiny grows over conditions aboard the carrier, which left San Diego in November and has now been deployed for more than 260 days. The Lincoln has gone more than 200 days without a port call while supporting U.S. operations in the war with Iran.
Families have reported food shortages, problems with drinking water, broken showers and laundry facilities and growing psychological strain among the roughly 5,000 sailors and Marines aboard. Reports of sailors attempting to go overboard have further raised concerns about the crew’s mental health. The Navy has acknowledged mental health cases but disputed reports that the ship is experiencing a broader crisis.
The administration has largely dismissed the criticism.
Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth has said reports about conditions aboard the Lincoln have been misrepresented. President Donald Trump went further Friday, telling reporters that the carrier’s record-setting stretch at sea was “not nearly long enough.”
Families of deployed sailors have pushed back, accusing Trump and Hegseth of dismissing what their loved ones have experienced aboard the ship.
Sen. Ruben Gallego, D-Ariz., a Marine Corps veteran, blamed the administration Sunday for what he called a “true lack of leadership.”
Retired Adm. Mike Mullen, former chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, told ABC’s “This Week” that morale aboard the Lincoln has improved since sailors learned they will finally be coming home.
The USS George Washington, the Navy’s only forward-deployed aircraft carrier, is being pulled from the western Pacific and sent toward the Middle East to replace the Lincoln. The move will temporarily leave the western Pacific without a U.S. aircraft carrier even as China increases military activity in the region.
The Lincoln’s return date has not yet been announced.
Sen. Bill Cassidy, R-La., offered a blunt assessment Sunday of President Donald Trump‘s new childhood vaccine policy: It could mean more shots, more doctor’s visits, higher costs and more sick children.
“If it wasn’t so potentially tragic, you would break out laughing at a comment like that,” Cassidy, a physician and chairman of the Senate Health, Education, Labor and Pensions Committee, told CNN’s Jake Tapper on “State of the Union.”
Cassidy was responding to Trump’s assertion that “nothing bad can happen” from his administration’s plan to overhaul the childhood vaccination schedule.
Cassidy also warned that requiring families to return repeatedly increases the chance children will miss doses, leaving them — and others — vulnerable to preventable illnesses.
“If you’re pro-life, you should be pro-vaccine,” Cassidy said.
The Louisiana Republican pointed to a recent case involving a pregnant woman who contracted a vaccine-preventable illness after exposure to an unvaccinated person and subsequently lost her pregnancy. Cassidy noted that immunity can decline during pregnancy, making community vaccination particularly important for protecting pregnant women.
“That is being pro-life,” he said.
In addition, Cassidy argued that the changes could turn two MMR shots into six individual injections — while requiring additional trips to the doctor’s office.
Trump has called for separating the combined measles, mumps and rubella vaccine into individual shots and spacing out childhood vaccinations across additional medical visits, despite opposition from major medical organizations.
“Instead of mom or dad missing work twice,” Cassidy said, parents could have to “miss work or take vacation or personal leave six times.” More office visits would also increase costs for insurers and potentially premiums, he argued.
“This is working backwards on affordability,” Cassidy said.
The physician also warned that requiring families to return repeatedly increases the chance children will miss doses, leaving them vulnerable to preventable illnesses.
Trump has called the combined MMR vaccine potentially “lethal” and compared administering multiple vaccines to a “nuclear weapon.” Tapper reminded Cassidy that the senator previously called for someone to challenge “crazy stupid things” that undermine confidence in immunization and asked whether Trump’s statements qualified.
“Yeah, that’s a crazy stupid thing,” Cassidy replied.
Cassidy’s criticism carries additional political weight because he provided a crucial Republican vote to confirm Health and Human Services Secretary Robert F. Kennedy Jr., a longtime vaccine skeptic. Cassidy initially expressed concerns before supporting Kennedy after receiving assurances about vaccine policy, which he has since accused Kennedy of breaking.
Tapper pressed Cassidy on whether Kennedy’s history should have been warning enough.
Cassidy declined to revisit his vote, instead arguing that Trump’s policy will “decrease immunization rates” while being “less convenient and costing families more.”
Back in 2007, long before the MasterClass franchise was a thing, Jane Espenson, one of television’s most respected and imaginative writers, wrote an essay/tutorial for The New Republic that breaks down the embraceable genre formula she calls the Chosen One.
It’s a catchy idea that explains why figures like Peter Parker, Luke Skywalker and Harry Potter have a lasting hold on their fans in ways that other heroes don’t.
Although each occupies a distinctly separate universe, Espenson says they all fit the same pattern. “They’re living a life, sometimes a fine one, often a troubled one, but certainly one governed by ordinary rules, when suddenly the curtain is pulled back and a whole new world, or a new set of rules of this world, is revealed,” she said. “And what’s more — and this is the important part — in that new world, they are something special.”
Once I read that simple recipe, it changed the way I thought about every kind of genre fiction, including superhero tales like HBO’s “Lanterns.”
(Courtesy of HBO Max) Aaron Pierre in “Lanterns.”
The Green Lanterns don’t neatly fit into the Chosen One mold, you see. And that may explain why they seem to be less popular than other DC heroes.
I can imagine diehard Green Lantern fans firing up their rebuttals as they read this. After all, the very nature of how Green Lanterns obtain their superhuman abilities involves cosmically empowered rings choosing their wearers. Once the selected become official members of the Green Lantern Corps, they can wield their rings to create astronomical constructs. The top members of the Lantern Corps are only limited by their imagination.
But mainstream culture’s best-known Green Lanterns aren’t orphans or troubled. Hal Jordan and John Stewart are both military men. John is also an architect. They aren’t living drab or depressing lives when the Guardians of the Universe activate them — they’re faring pretty well, all things considered.
Hal and John also stand apart from other test pilots, Marines and field experts in ways that make them not merely suitable choices for superheroic duty but worthy of it. This, I think, is the difference between Espenson’s Chosen Ones and heroes like the Green Lantern. Hal, John and the rest must work to be worthy of their power.
Worthiness is a tougher bar to clear than being chosen for greatness. The Chosen Ones Espenson cites are part of a destiny ordained either by their bloodline or some greater lineage. What makes a Chosen One common in their society marks them as extraordinary once they cross the threshold into the fantastic.
And some heroes are Chosen at random. That radioactive spider that transformed Peter Parker into Spider-Man could have bitten the class moron just as easily. The tornado that transported Dorothy Gale from dusty Kansas to vibrant Oz might have swept up the village idiot instead.
The idea that anyone can suddenly be endowed with superhuman specialness simply by being in the right place at the right time is a little like daydreaming about winning the lottery. So it’s entirely understandable if most of us aren’t into the labor aspect of the Lanterns’ audition process.
(Courtesy of HBO Max) Kyle Chandler in “Lanterns.” Courtesy of HBO Max
If the box office is a fair, measurable indicator of how the public feels about these superhero archetypes, guess what? Espenson’s theory still holds: Chosen One stories still rule.
Meanwhile, the introduction of the Worthiest of Earth’s Mightiest Heroes in “Captain America: The First Avenger” ranks #52 on a very long list.
About that. Two caveats, and they’re big ones, have to do with the quality of certain heroes’ movie introductions and America’s longstanding genuflection before elites.
Mainstream culture’s relatively lower esteem for the Green Lantern is absolutely related to cartoonish interpretations of his power in live-action depictions. Comic book versions of the Green Lantern toss around the power of the cosmos. When Lantern Corps members unite their rings’ powers, they can move planets. That has never been adequately portrayed in theatrical features.
In animated renditions streaming on HBO Max, the Green Lantern fares much better. Avid “Justice League” and “Justice League Unlimited” viewers recognize John Stewart as being held in equal esteem to the Big Three (i.e., Superman, Batman and Wonder Woman), especially in a crisis.
In the most recent “Superman” and 2011’s “Green Lantern” starring Ryan Reynolds, the way that Guy Gardner and Reynolds’ Hal Jordan toss around cartoonish CGI bubbles or massive green mallets falls short of conveying the Lantern Corps’ two-fisted punch of willpower and vision.
Blake Lively and Ryan Reynolds in “Green Lantern”
Also, not all heroes neatly fit into the Chosen vs. Worthy popularity equation. Superman, Wonder Woman and Thor were born to greatness. America’s most-loved fictional titans, Tony Stark and Bruce Wayne, have bottomless wealth to fund their vigilante adventures, making them especially mesmerizing to an audience raised on rags-to-riches fables.
To a man and woman, they made themselves Earth’s protectors because they have the means and muscle to take on the job. And once Stark Industries and Wayne Enterprises bankroll their respective super-squads’ fortified headquarters, they attract the universe’s talent. By their nature, Earth’s Green Lanterns are a natural fit to serve the Justice League’s governing inner circle. They’re also the only leaders who answer to other bosses. (Boo.)
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But what some perceive as a negative makes the Green Lantern legend appealing to others, especially those driven to ascend through ambition and hard work.
HBO’s “Lanterns” is the first series to explore how that idea unfurls in a society that functions like our own — that is, one in which all things aren’t equal, and superheroes have a reputation for doing as much harm as good.
Maybe “Lanterns” can inspire us with its portrayal of worthiness. But it may take more than one good show to turn the tide of the Green Lantern’s reputation. Much as we respect that with great power comes great responsibility, it’s a lot dreamier to imagine what we could do with all that might if it were simply handed to us.
“Lanterns” premieres at 9 p.m. Sunday, Aug. 16 on HBO and HBO Max.
Last week, I wrote about the pasta that finally taught me how to shop at the farmers market. What I didn’t mention was that I ate the first quarter of my bowl standing up, at the bar top between my kitchen and the little alcove where our two-person table sits. I had simply stopped there. The cornbread crumbs were crisp, the chèvre was creamy, the squash had gone sweet and spicy and jammy after some time over low heat, and together they briefly became more interesting than wherever I had been headed.
I don’t want to overstate the revelation. I know what happens when you apply butter and patience to good vegetables. Still, that particular bit of alchemy never gets old to me. Especially when I realized that what was in the bowl had begun as a five-item farmers market haul, helped along by a few things I already had at home.
One excellent thing, I was reminded, is often enough.
The five recipes below all begin the same way: with one market find good enough to make me want to cook — sweet corn, ripe peaches, September carrots, a jar of hot giardiniera — and a wickedly simple form to build around it. Pasta. Baked rice. Simple syrup. A rolled pastry. Snack cake. Some of what you need may come from the market, especially at one with eggs, cheese, dairy or even pizza dough on offer; the rest can happily come from your pantry or the supermarket.
The market doesn’t have to provide dinner. Sometimes it just has to provide the idea.
Jammy summer squash pasta with chèvre and cornbread crumbs
Yields
4 servings
Prep Time
15 minutes
Cook Time
1 hours 35minutes
This is the pasta that finally taught me how to shop at the farmers market: Start with a form, bring home one or two beautiful things and give them somewhere to land. Here, grated yellow summer squash and onion spend the better part of an hour over low heat, slowly becoming soft, sweet and jammy. Miso, honey and red-pepper flakes deepen the mixture; pasta water turns it glossy enough to tuck itself into the tubes and folds of a sturdy short pasta.
This is not a 30-minute dinner, and there is no reason to pretend otherwise. Think of it instead as a very light weekend project, the kind you can tend occasionally while doing something else nearby. The toppings are market-flexible, too: Use whatever chèvre or goat cheese you find, whether it crumbles into little pillows or lands in soft clouds, and turn a leftover hunk of cornbread into crisp, salty crumbs.
Ingredients
2 medium yellow summer squash
1 medium onion, roughly chopped
3 tablespoons unsalted butter, olive oil or a combination
Kosher salt, to taste
Freshly ground black pepper, to taste
2 teaspoons garlic powder
1 tablespoon white miso paste
2 teaspoons honey
½ teaspoon red-pepper flakes, plus more to taste
1 pound short, sturdy pasta, such as rigatoni, shells or cavatappi
1 cup coarsely crumbled cornbread
Olive oil, for the skillet
Flaky salt, optional
About 4 ounces chèvre, or more to taste
½ cup loosely packed chopped fresh basil
Preparation
Prepare the vegetables: Grate the summer squash on the large holes of a box grater. Roughly chop the onion by hand, or pulse it briefly in a food processor until finely chopped but not puréed.
Start the sauce: In a large, wide skillet or Dutch oven, heat the butter, olive oil or combination of the two over low heat. Add the squash, onion and a pinch of kosher salt. Cook slowly, stirring occasionally, for 45 to 60 minutes. The vegetables should become deeply soft and jammy while retaining a little texture; you are not trying to cook them into a completely smooth paste. Taste occasionally and adjust the salt and pepper as needed.
Deepen the flavor: Once the vegetables are soft and jammy, stir in the garlic powder, miso, honey and red-pepper flakes. Continue cooking over low heat for about 15 minutes, stirring occasionally, until the seasonings have melded into the squash.
Make the cornbread crumbs: While the squash cooks, tear the cornbread into roughly pebble-size pieces by hand, or pulse it briefly in a food processor. Lightly coat the bottom of a skillet with olive oil and set it over medium heat. Add the cornbread and cook, stirring and turning occasionally, until crisp and golden. Transfer to a paper towel-lined plate to drain and season with flaky salt while still warm, if desired.
Cook the pasta: Bring a large pot of well-salted water to a boil and cook the pasta until just shy of al dente. Before draining, reserve at least 1 cup of the pasta cooking water.
Build the sauce: Take the squash mixture off the heat for a moment. Add the drained pasta and a splash of reserved pasta water and toss to combine. Return the pan to low heat and continue adding pasta water, a splash at a time, stirring gently, until the squash loosens into a glossy sauce that works its way into the pasta’s tubes, ridges and folds.
Finish: Remove from the heat and stir in the chopped basil. Taste and adjust the salt, black pepper and red-pepper flakes as needed.
Serve: Divide among four bowls. Top each generously with chèvre — crumbled if firm, dolloped if soft and spreadable — and about ¼ cup of the crisp cornbread crumbs.
A jar of fruit syrup in the refrigerator is one of those small things that can make summer feel remarkably well-appointed. This version simmers ripe peaches with honey and whole black peppercorns until the fruit collapses and the syrup turns fragrant, floral and just a little prickly. I prefer mine on the less-sweet side, but both the honey and pepper are easy to adjust depending on your fruit and your taste.
Use it anywhere a little concentrated summer would be welcome: shaken into cocktails or mocktails, stirred into iced matcha or sparkling water, drizzled over gelato or spooned onto yogurt. Peaches are particularly lovely here, though I’ve made the same syrup with blackberries to equally good effect.
Ingredients
3 ripe peaches
1 cup water
½ to ¾ cup honey, depending on desired sweetness
1 to 2 tablespoons whole black peppercorns, depending on desired intensity
Preparation
Prepare the peaches: Peel the peaches, if desired, then remove the pits and roughly chop the fruit. Peeling produces a slightly cleaner finished syrup, but because the mixture will eventually be strained, leaving the skins on works perfectly well.
Simmer the syrup: Combine the peaches, water, honey and black peppercorns in a medium saucepan. Bring to a gentle simmer over medium heat, then reduce the heat as needed to maintain it.
Mash the fruit: Simmer for 15 to 20 minutes. As the peaches soften, periodically crush them against the side of the saucepan with the back of a wooden spoon or a potato masher to help release their juices. For a stronger peach and pepper flavor, let the mixture simmer toward the longer end of the range.
Strain: Set a fine-mesh strainer over a bowl or heatproof measuring cup and pour in the syrup. Press firmly on the peaches with the back of a spoon to extract as much liquid, color and flavor as possible. Discard the solids and peppercorns.
Cool and store: Let the syrup cool, then transfer it to a jar with a lid or a deli container. Refrigerate and use within about 1 week for the best flavor.
Hot giardiniera rolls
Yields
8-12 servings
Prep Time
20 minutes
Cook Time
25 minutes
Somewhere between a pizza roll and a savory breakfast pastry, these start with prepared pizza dough. Some of my better local farmers markets sell it in sweet little rounds, but you can also buy it from your local supermarket. Roll it out cinnamon-roll style, spread with cream cheese, Parmesan, herbs and hot giardiniera, then coil, slice and nestle the spirals together in a buttered skillet.
I like this recipe in particular because if the farmers market has otherwise failed you, there is a decent chance the pickle table has not. Even when the tomatoes are gone and the bread stall is picked clean, you can usually find some jar of something sharp, spicy and brined: giardiniera, hot peppers, spicy dills, pickled carrots.
Giardiniera is my first choice here — jars of it seem to appear at every Chicago market — but think of the filling as a template for whatever good, spicy pickled thing you bring home. Change the herbs accordingly: chives and parsley are excellent with giardiniera, while Mexican-style pickled carrots practically beg for cilantro and oregano.
Ingredients
1 pound prepared pizza dough, at room temperature
4 to 6 ounces cream cheese, softened
½ cup finely grated Parmesan
½ cup well-drained, chopped hot giardiniera
¼ cup chopped fresh herbs, preferably chives and parsley
2 tablespoons butter, divided
Preparation
Heat the oven: Heat to 375°F. Use 1 tablespoon butter to grease a baking dish or oven-safe skillet.
Make the filling: Pulse the cream cheese, Parmesan, giardiniera and herbs in a food processor until chunky and spreadable, not smooth.
Roll the dough: On a lightly floured surface, roll the dough into roughly a 12-by-16-inch rectangle, about the thickness of dough for cinnamon rolls.
Fill and roll: Spread the filling over the dough, leaving a small border. Starting at a long side, roll into a snug log.
Slice: Cut into 8 to 12 pieces; 8 makes generous breakfast-sized rolls, while 10 to 12 is better for sharing.
Arrange: Nestle cut-side up in the prepared pan. Melt the remaining tablespoon butter and brush over the tops.
Bake: Bake 20 to 25 minutes, until puffed and deeply golden. Serve warm.
Summer corn riso al forno
Yields
6-8 servings
Prep Time
20 minutes
Cook Time
50 minutes
Riso al forno — literally “rice from the oven” — is Italian baked rice, an adaptable format in which partially cooked rice finishes with sauce and cheese. This version leans hard into fresh corn, still in its cool green husks and already smelling sweet before you cut it from the cob.
Half the corn is blended with stock and cream into a velvety sauce; the rest stays whole for juicy texture. Parmesan or Pecorino keeps things more Italian, while cheddar nudges the dish toward American corn casserole. Crisp Mexican-style chorizo is optional, but I genuinely like this best when the corn gets to be extremely, unapologetically corn.
Ingredients
2½ cups Arborio or Carnaroli rice
Kosher salt
4 to 6 ears fresh corn, kernels cut from the cobs, divided
1 to 1½ cups chicken or vegetable stock
½ cup heavy cream
Freshly ground black pepper
1 tablespoon butter or olive oil, plus more for the baking dish
½ small onion, finely chopped
6 to 8 ounces Mexican-style chorizo, cooked until crisp and very well drained, optional
¾ cup grated Parmesan, Pecorino Romano or cheddar
Sliced scallions or chopped chives, for serving
Preparation
Heat the oven: Heat to 375°F. Butter or oil a 9-by-13-inch baking dish.
Parboil the rice: Cook the rice in generously salted boiling water for 8 minutes. Drain, rinse under cold water and transfer to the baking dish.
Make the corn sauce: Simmer half the corn with 1 cup stock for about 12 minutes, until tender, adding more stock if needed.
Blend: Remove from the heat, add the cream and season with salt and pepper. Blend until mostly smooth and pourable.
Cook the remaining corn: Heat the butter or oil in the same saucepan. Add the onion and remaining corn and cook over medium-low until the onion softens.
Combine: Fold the corn and onion, plus chorizo if using, into the corn sauce. Pour over the rice and stir gently to combine.
Bake: Top with cheese and bake, uncovered, for 30 to 35 minutes, until the rice is tender and the top lightly golden.
Finish: Rest at least 15 minutes, then scatter with scallions or chives.
Brown sugar-carrot snack cake
Yields
8 servings
Prep Time
25 minutes
Cook Time
50-60 minutes, plus cooling
September carrots can look almost too virtuous at the farmers market: sturdy bunches, feathery green tops, dirt in the creases. Here, they get cooked with butter, brown sugar, orange zest and salt until glossy and jammy, then folded into a simple sour cream cake scented generously with cardamom.
If you find candied citrus peel, toss some in; if not, use the zest of a full orange. Serve with lightly sweetened orange-zest whipped cream — homemade or straight from the spray can.
Ingredients
For the carrots
1 cup finely grated carrot
4 tablespoons unsalted butter
2 tablespoons brown sugar
Zest of ½ orange if using candied citrus peel, or 1 whole orange if not
Pinch of kosher salt
Water, as needed
For the cake
3 large eggs
1 cup granulated sugar
½ cup (1 stick) unsalted butter, melted and slightly cooled
1 cup sour cream
½ teaspoon vanilla extract
1½ cups all-purpose flour
2 teaspoons baking powder
2 teaspoons ground cardamom
¾ teaspoon kosher salt
½ cup roughly chopped candied citrus peel, optional
For serving
Lightly sweetened whipped cream, preferably with orange zest, or canned whipped cream
Preparation
Prepare the pan: Heat the oven to 350°F. Grease and flour a 9-inch round cake pan and line the bottom with parchment.
Cook the carrots: Cook the carrot, butter, brown sugar, zest and salt over medium-low heat for about 20 minutes, stirring occasionally, until soft and jammy. Add water 1 tablespoon at a time if the pan gets dry. Cool until just warm.
Mix the wet ingredients: Whisk the eggs and sugar, then whisk in the melted butter, sour cream and vanilla.
Mix the dry ingredients: Whisk together the flour, baking powder, cardamom and salt.
Finish the batter: Fold the dry ingredients into the wet just until combined, then fold in the carrots and candied peel, if using.
Bake: Pour into the pan and bake 50 to 60 minutes, until golden and a tester comes out clean or with a few moist crumbs.
Cool: Rest in the pan at least 20 minutes before turning out. Serve warm or at room temperature with whipped cream.
This story originally appeared in The Bite, my weekly food newsletter for Salon. If you enjoyed it and would like more essays, recipes, technique explainers and interviews sent straight to your inbox,subscribe here.
Trump spent part of his weekend sharing a series of seemingly AI-generated images depicting himself alongside the nation’s first president, including one showing the pair writing with quill pens, another riding horses together and a short video in which Trump and Washington stroll through the still-unbuilt ballroom.
“Thank you, George, for some of your brilliant ideas on this great Military Complex/Ballroom!” Trump captioned the 10-second video.
Washington’s newfound role as Trump’s 18th-century architectural consultant comes as the president fights to continue construction on the $400 million White House project. The Trump administration asked the Supreme Court on Friday to intervene after a federal appeals court ruled that aboveground construction could not proceed without congressional approval.
The imaginary collaboration also contains a historical wrinkle: Washington never actually lived in the White House.
Washington selected the site for the President’s House and oversaw aspects of its planning and construction, but left office in 1797 and died in 1799. John Adams became the first president to live in the still-unfinished building when he moved in the following year.
Trump’s Washington posts arrive amid an increasingly public effort to shape his own presidential legacy. His administration is simultaneously fighting over the ballroom and efforts to place his name on the Kennedy Center, while Trump has repeatedly shared heroic and AI-generated depictions of himself online.
On Saturday, he added another image to the collection: a photograph of himself wearing a “Trump 2028” hat accompanied by the declaration, “WE ARE GOING TO WIN.”
The 22nd Amendment prohibits anyone from being elected president more than twice, something Trump acknowledged earlier this month when he conceded that the law on presidential term limits is “very strong.”
Washington, meanwhile, famously made relinquishing power part of his own legacy.
After commanding the Continental Army during the Revolutionary War, Washington voluntarily surrendered his military commission to Congress rather than retaining control of the army. He later declined to seek a third presidential term, establishing the two-term tradition eventually written into the Constitution.
Washington’s legacy has hardly escaped historical scrutiny. He enslaved more than 100 people at Mount Vernon, and historians continue to grapple with the contradiction between the nation’s founding ideals and the human bondage practiced by its first president, among his strong mythology.
But Trump’s latest posts appear less interested in interrogating Washington than in imagining him as a collaborator — writing, riding and offering design tips to his 21st-century successor.
Whether Washington would have approved of Trump’s ballroom is impossible to know. In Trump’s AI-generated version of history, however, George has apparently already signed off.
As you may have noticed, many members of the American media and political classes are currently rending their garments in terror and despair at the perceived threat of “socialism.” It’s not at all clear what that word means in 2026, in this context or any other.
It only helps a little to observe that whatever “socialism” is supposed to refer to these days, it doesn’t have much to do with an economic or political system where the state or the working class control the means of production. I’m sure we could find people out there who advocate that. Hell, I might be among them, if it were a remotely realistic possibility. But none of those people are prominent in the current (and long overdue!) internal power struggle within the Democratic Party and the American left writ large.
Come to think of it, you know who really wants state control of the economy, if only in an incoherent, ass-backward, “Mixed-up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler” kind of way? Donald Trump, that’s who. For all his extended excoriations of Democrats as woke America-hating Marxist radical traitors, Trump has meddled more extensively and more directly in the economy than any Democratic president since Franklin D. Roosevelt.
It’s clearly going too far to call Trump a socialist, largely because profoundly corrupt autocratic or oligarchic regimes like his cannot easily be captured in ideological categories. He’s definitely not a democratic socialist (or a constitutional democrat of any other variety). But there’s no way around the fact that his fantastical DIY presidency has consigned conventional right-wing ideology about the sacredness of free-market capitalism to the proverbial dustbin. Let’s put it this way: Romanian dictator Nicolae Ceaușescu called himself a socialist; legendary Argentinian president Juan Perón did not. Trump belongs on the same historical shelf as those guys, if only as a wannabe.
Almost everything about Trump’s management of the economy during his second term, and pretty much everything else, has been disastrous. But even if we assume that the epic personal and institutional graft of his presidency will not survive his departure, he has created a haphazard regime that’s so deeply enmeshed in fossil fuels, Big Tech and AI, rare earths, pharmaceuticals, shipbuilding, semiconductors and the weapons industries that no one will be able to disentangle it anytime soon.
It’s going too far to call Trump a socialist. But his fantastical DIY presidency has consigned conventional right-wing ideology about the sacredness of free-market capitalism to the proverbial dustbin.
As Indiana University scholar Sarah Bauerle Danzman told Foreign Policy in 2025, it’s “jarring” to encounter “a Republican administration embracing state capitalism in a way we haven’t seen in a long time, while all the time decrying ‘socialism.’” According to more recent reporting in Forbes, the federal government now holds equity stakes in roughly 30 different companies across a range of industries. “What started with a ‘golden share‘ in U.S. Steel,” writes Keith Johnson of Foreign Policy, “has morphed into a government takeover of vast swathes of the economy,” best exemplified by capricious tariff policies that seem motivated by the president’s personal whims and grievances. As libertarian economist Tad DeHaven tells Johnson, since all this “is driven by one man’s personal desires, there is no plan and no strategy. It changes by the day.”
Fanatical Republicans from deep-red districts can keep staging government shutdowns and preaching the defeated gospels of Milton Friedman as much as they like. But it’s difficult to imagine any future GOP putting the genie all the way back in the bottle and entirely undoing this unexpected turn to oligarcho-socialism or state capitalism or, ahem, national socialism or whatever else it might be called. The Econ 101 term would be “dirigisme,” which was coined to describe the highly interventionist, quasi-socialist economy that rebuilt France after World War II and has more recently been applied to China, Singapore, South Korea and so on.
This raises the amusing possibility that the mainstream Democratic Party — always ready to turn itself into the punchline of historical irony — will once again end up holding the bag for a set of policies supported by their donor class and literally no one else. More than 70% of registered Democrats, according to a Fox News poll taken in March, say that capitalism is “not working very well or not working at all.” So naturally the party leadership seems prepared to go to the barricades to defend it.
To be entirely fair, in some cases the centrist moral panic over “socialism” seems to refer to rational or at least straightforward electoral concerns. Fairly or otherwise, mainstream Democrats convinced a tiny plurality of Wisconsin voters that gubernatorial candidate Francesca Hong was too much of a humorless leftist to survive exposure to the mythical but coveted “median voter” in November. They may well have been correct; we don’t get to re-run the experiment and find out.
But in other instances, such as Zohran Mamdani’s historic victory in New York in 2025 and a series of Democratic primary wins by progressive or socialist-aligned candidates in that city and across the country, the hysteria has more to do with generational and attitudinal change — yeah, I’m sorry, with a vibe shift — than with specific policy proposals or ideological labels.
On one level, it seems incredible that deep-dyed Democratic insiders like James Carville or former DNC chair Jaime Harrison are surprised that their party, which collectively decided to “resist” the second coming of Trump by doing absolutely nothing and steadfastly ignored the scale of Israel’s war crimes in Gaza for as long as possible, is seen as hopelessly weak by its own voters. Carville recently called for a “schism” (a delightfully old-fashioned word) within the Democratic Party, and Harrison has urged the so-called socialists to leave the Demo-normies alone and “focus on building the party you actually support.” That old saw about being careful what you wish for comes to mind.
Guys like James Carville and Jaime Harrison were raised on ancient fables of the ideological excesses of the 1960s and ‘70s, and no doubt still get misty-eyed over Bill Clinton and the “New Democrats” of 1992.
On the other hand, there’s nothing especially mysterious about those attitudes. Those guys and others like them were raised on ancient fables of the ideological excesses of the 1960s and ‘70s, and no doubt still get a bit misty-eyed over Bill Clinton and the “New Democrats” of 1992. Don’t stop thinking about tomorrow!
Their version of the Democratic Party eagerly devoured the devil’s candy, in the form of unbreakable partnerships with Madison Avenue, Wall Street and Silicon Valley and closed-door, $10,000 fundraising dinners in East Hampton and the Napa Valley. There’s no escape from that kind of political bargain on this side of the apocalypse.
They have always viewed left-wing opposition as childish and contemptible, but not far below the surface they have dreaded the day it rises up to bite them in the ass and destroy their glorious temples of political triangulation. That day has now come, and they are in danger of becoming the last advocates of a faith that both the right and left have abandoned. They can only hope that Donald Trump’s corruption and incompetence will save them from their own.
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from Andrew O’Hehir on our dazed and confused world
Stop us if you’ve heard this one before: The man is lost. A desperate ploy to end a long-running war took more from him than he could bear. While working his way back home, he’s forced to outsmart a vicious beast at close quarters, and he takes up residence with a suitor. His offspring are made of lesser stuff than him, but our hero manages to earn redemption by flinging a stockcar around a tri-oval racetrack 180 times at 200 miles per hour.
Don’t worry, you didn’t miss a super-secret cut of Christopher Nolan’s “The Odyssey” that’s only projected on the side of Buc-ee’s locations nationwide. This deep-fried Ulysses is Will Ferrell in “Talladega Nights: The Ballad of Ricky Bobby,” which turns 20 years old this month. Part of Ferrell’s man-child trilogy with Adam McKay, the film follows a blowhard racecar driver as he works his way back to the winner’s circle following a dramatic and embarrassing wreck.
But Ricky Bobby’s return to glory was about more than the importance of humility and friendship. To anyone watching this free-wheeling gag showcase in theaters in 2006, it was obvious this high-speed hick was a stand-in for President George W. Bush. Now, 20 years on, it has a lot to teach us about life in Donald Trump’s America.
The film introduces us to Ricky Bobby’s family with a gross-out splat, implying the soon-to-be stock car racer was born in the back of a speeding Chevelle driven by his reprobate father. We jump ahead in time and see a grade-school-aged Ricky Bobby on Career Day, let down again by his dad’s absence. His father appears for the first time in over a decade and is quickly tossed out of Ricky Bobby’s school for inappropriate behavior, leaving his son with a bit of parting wisdom that may or may not have been the ramblings of an inebriated fool.
Ricky Bobby spends the rest of his life attempting to follow in his father’s tire tracks, working his way up to be in the big show but not a star. Dumb luck and a last-minute assist from his less charismatic, bumbling pseudo-sibling finally get him into the spotlight. He develops a reputation for aggression, seemingly fighting a war against everyone on the asphalt that spins out when he attempts to bully a cosmopolitan French driver into submission. His buffoonish bravado and frequent failures alienate everyone who is not completely in his camp. The movie ends with Ricky Bobby speeding in a car without sponsors, a massive “ME” splashed on the hood. For anyone who lived through eight years of Bush and saw Ferrell’s impression of him on “Saturday Night Live,” the real star’s identity is obvious.
“Talladega Nights” was reacting to its immediate surroundings, rubbing and racing against America’s political currents only three years after Bush’s invasion of Iraq.
“Talladega Nights” was reacting to its immediate surroundings, rubbing and racing against America’s political currents only three years after Bush’s invasion of Iraq. The film saw that the future was in the sprawling boomtowns of the Sunbelt, that making a movie about America in 2006 required taking a hard-left into Southern culture — and that there was no better avatar for the country’s anti-intellectual and anti-coastal skid than Bush-via-Ferrell.
Bush’s brand and accent were Texan, with the hat to match, but his roots are in the WASPy New England. His father followed the money south in the 1950s and stayed there, but George H.W. Bush never quite lost his boarding school bearing. The younger Bush was different, leaning into his sun-baked upbringing while keeping one boot firmly back East. When the time came to get an education, he skipped College Station for stints in New Haven and Cambridge. “Talladega Nights” pegs this missing link between America’s urban past and its exurban future from its opening seconds, putting a quote about “hot, nasty, badass speed” in the mouth of New York Swell Eleanor Roosevelt. The future was coming on fast, and it was dumb as a brick.
We’re now living in Ricky Bobby’s world. The culture and politics of the Sunbelt — sometimes called “America B” by people who spend too much time online — is now inescapable. From Stanley cups to dirty soda franchises, everything’s a little bit more SEC and a little less Ivy in 2026. Where Tumblr-ites dreamed of the cloistered quads and moody libraries of Princeton in the 2010s, TikTok-ers now obsess over the elaborate rituals of University of Alabama sororities.
This reality operates on zero-sum logic. Following his father’s maxim that “if you ain’t first, you’re last,” Ricky Bobby can’t imagine a win for anyone else as anything less than something stolen from him. If you’re at all up on the paranoid and protective stance of major right-wing media, this sounds awfully familiar. That pitch – they’re stealing from you – helped the nation elect Donald Trump in 2016, himself a late-in-life Sunbelter, and following his election loss four years later, it drove him to accuse Democrats of rigging the outcome in Joe Biden’s favor.
The film is littered with nods to the new normal. Ricky Bobby lives in a McMansion in some isolated North Carolina community. His sons are given tough names, lifted from a cut-rate Chuck Norris television show, in the same way conservatives today tend to name their sons after firearms manufacturers. Fast-food branding and half-hearted evangelicalism are a constant presence.
The film feels spooky in its prescience, but Ferrell and McKay were far from alone in noticing the culture was heading out of the cities. Mere months before Rickky Bobby ran around an infield in his underwear swatting at imagined flames, Bravo debuted the first season of their juggernaut “Real Housewives” series, which focused on the comings-and-goings of women living in palatial homes in master-planned communities outside Los Angeles.
The franchise fled further and further from coastal cultural centers, shifting from the “Real World” of New York City and Chicago to the air-conditioned enclaves of New Jersey and the suburbs of Washington, D.C. In 2026, no one questions a reality show set 20 minutes from Park City, Utah, or wonders why Netflix dating shows host their casting calls in exurban Charlotte. That this is a reflection of America is taken as a given, the same way “Love Is Blind” contestants don’t feel the need to mention their evangelical beliefs.
One hundred fifty years after Union Gen. William T. Sherman stormed from Atlanta to Savannah, the Savannah Bananas, an independent baseball team, took the greater United States by storm, capturing algorithms and filling stadiums with coordinated dance routines.
It’s odd to revisit “Talladega Nights” now. The Bushes and the Ricky Bobbys of the world have spent the interceding 20 years winning battle after battle in the political and cultural war. For those of us who actually do like crepes, though, there are some glimmers of hope.
For one, Donald Trump bringing the Sunbelt into the White House has been a disaster. A Democratic wave is expected in the coming midterms, one that may well carry on into 2028. For another, Formula 1 and soccer, sports frequently coded as elite and coastal, are experiencing booms of popularity across the country. Gen Z is pushing back against influencers, delighting in Obama-era signifiers like frozen yogurt and fighting off the “tradwife” trend.
While we’ve been racing on a closed loop for the last two decades, the cyclical nature of politics and culture will bring us back to the starting line faster than you might expect.
By now most of us have heard the acronym TACO, for Trump Always Chickens Out, but I was recently introduced to NACHO, which means Not a Chance Hormuz Opens. I’m not entirely sure how I feel about these cutesy insults — Donald Trump surely enjoys them, given his apparent enthusiasm for Mexican food — but appropriate or not, the labels seem accurate.
On Monday, Iran announced the strait will remain closed until Trump gives in to their demands, which include, according to the New York Times, “the lifting of the U.S. naval blockade and sanctions on Iran, the withdrawal of American forces from around the country, the payment of war reparations, the release of frozen Iranian assets, and the end of attacks on Iran’s allies in the region.”
Trump is so eager to claim victory in the war he started alongside Israel that he might even be willing to walk away without a nuclear deal, unnamed U.S. officials told the Wall Street Journal. The president has also made his own list of demands, not all of which are coherent, that includes compensation for the 18 U.S. service members killed since the war began. In a Truth Social post, he also demanded that “compensation should be paid to the families of the hundreds of thousands of innocent protestors that Iran has killed over the last 50 years, not to mention the 52,000 that have been killed in the last five months.”
Iran’s timetable of negotiations is reportedly designed to drag out past the midterms, with the expectation being Republicans will get clobbered in elections over high gas prices and the deeply unpopular war.
Let’s not pretend Trump truly cares about dead Iranian citizens, given how many have been killed by U.S. and Israeli bombs. But even if Trump were to agree to the Islamic Republic’s terms tomorrow, Tehran seems unlikely to serve up the victory he so badly craves. Iran’s timetable of negotiations is reportedly designed to drag out past the midterms, with the expectation being Republicans will get clobbered in elections over high gas prices and the deeply unpopular war. Such a loss could lead to Trump’s third impeachment — a very big if! — or at least hobble any further funding for the conflict.
But failing that, Tehran’s Plan C could already be coming clear: Just wait till Trump is gone. As reported by the International Business Times, Majid Shakeri, a senior adviser linked to Iran’s parliament, has urged the nation’s leaders to avoid both open war and a definitive agreement with Trump. The best strategy, he argues, is simply to wait until the end of Trump’s term, writing on X, “The path to victory in this war is neither just fighting nor just reaching an understanding. The path to victory is ‘managing the process of neither war nor peace, up to the point of victory.’”
Similarly, Brig. Gen. Mohammad Reza Naqdi told PBS NewsHour on Tuesday that “One way is to prolong this war until we get to the next term of the presidency and cause attrition, so that if anyone else wants to attack Iran, they will know there is a cost.”
While such a pathway is not Iran’s official policy, it nonetheless seems like a plausible outcome. But waiting until Jan. 20, 2029, when Trump’s second term will end — assuming he doesn’t die first, get impeached and removed from office, or try to break the Constitution badly enough to somehow serve a third term — could backfire. (That might mean an end to Iran’s problems, but it certainly wouldn’t be for Americans. A Tucker Carlson win in 2028 might sound like a joke now, but so did Trump in 2015.)
At any rate, the president’s war with Iran is clearly unsustainable in the long-term, and the U.S. may have to bow out sooner rather than later. Since attacking Iran, the U.S. has increasingly ran low on weapons stockpiles. A recent report from the Center for Strategic and International Studies details why this is happening; it’s not just the Iran war, but the entire spectrum of how the military operates, including the Pentagon’s budget process and how the U.S. has engaged in recent wars, including under the Biden administration. While I’m skeptical of such reports being used to further inflate the military-industrial complex — look no further than Trump and Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth’s demands for a $1.5 trillion Pentagon budget — numbers are numbers, and you can’t bomb something with what you don’t have.
Meanwhile, the Department of Energy announced Monday that the Strategic Petroleum Reserve fell by 6.1 million barrels to just under 300 million barrels last week. That’s the lowest the SPR has been since 1983. For this and numerous other reasons, such as the recent jobs report that shows how badly the economy is faring under Trumponomics, many folks are comparing the president to Jimmy Carter, who famously faced his own economic challenges and stalemate with Iran during the 1979-1980 hostage crisis. But really, this level of incompetence is in a league of its own.
There are other dumb acronyms for the Trump administration, continuing the taqueria theme, such as EMPANADA, for Everybody Makes Promises and Nobody Actually Delivers Anything, and TAMALES, for Trump Always Messes Around, Leaves Everybody Shafted. I have my own feelings about this era, steeped in euphemism, but whatever people decide to brand it, there’s no denying reality: As we should’ve learned with Vietnam, Korea, Iraq, Afghanistan and so on, you can’t just drop bombs on countries and expect them to do your bidding. Or as I might put it, SALSA: Someone Always Loses to Stupid Aggression. That someone is inevitably us.
President Donald Trump’s tariff announcements no longer cause the market gyrations that they did in 2025. But their sticker shock for American consumers is becoming increasingly clear – just as economic sentiment is souring ahead of the November 2026 midterm elections.
Covering nearly all U.S. imports, the advantage of these tariffs in the Trump administration’s view is that they’re more firmly based on existing U.S. trade law, beyond the reach of the Supreme Court’s review. And Trump has said he envisions enacting many more of these so-called trade law tariffs.
As a trade economist who has been following the tariff wars, I believe that the longer these import taxes are in place, the more the consumers will bear their burden. The 2025 “Liberation Day” tariffs that the Supreme Court struck down, as well as other levies Trump announced after the February ruling, turned out to be temporary. But the bulk of the new levies are designed to be permanent.
That means that for consumers, the total cost burden is likely to increase even if the tariff rates don’t change – because the new tariffs will be stacked on older ones.
The cost squeeze
On one level, Trump’s tariff fixation is a mystery. Tariffs continue to be unpopular, and it’s unclear why Trump would double down on them before midterm elections when his approval ratings, including on the economy, are so low.
But on another level, Trump’s embrace of tariffs can be understood as an instrument of personal power. He has long viewed them as tools for negotiating leverage, and he recently declared that U.S. tariffs “aren’t high enough.” The president also has deflected criticism of their impact on consumer prices by claiming erroneously that foreigners pay for them.
The simple fact is that U.S. tariff invoices issued by the Treasury Department are sent to the U.S. businesses that import the foreign products. These companies may try to absorb some of the cost to protect their market share and work through existing inventory. But eventually, the squeeze will compel them to pass most of that extra tax onto U.S. consumers – no matter which foreign countries are targeted.
And now that tariffs have had time to work through the economy, researchers have found an impact on prices. The Dallas Federal Reserve recently estimated that the Fed’s preferred inflation measure would have risen without tariffs at an annual rate of 2.3% in March, instead of its actual 3.2%. Meanwhile, an analysis by the Yale Budget Lab concluded that consumers are paying anywhere from half to the entire cost of the levies through higher prices, depending on the goods.
Tariffs upon tariffs
Trump based his July tariff announcements on three different legal justifications: a country’s unfair trade practices, like forced labor, which is known as Section 301; national security protection, or Section 232; and discrimination against U.S. imports, or Section 338. The last is a trade war tariff dating to the Smoot-Hawley Tariff Act of 1930.
The new Section 301 tariff rates, which are global, currently range from 10% to 12.5%, but they could go up at the president’s discretion.
Section 301 has also opened the door to new country-specific tariffs targeted at Brazil, at 25%, while Section 338 was cited to slap an extra 50% import tax on certain Canadian goods. In addition, Trump has imposed levies ranging from 25% to 50% for specific products, covering steel, aluminum, automobiles, copper, timber, lumber and pharmaceuticals.
With so many tariffs in the mix, consumers will be even more squeezed because many of these taxes will be stacked on top of one another. For example, Section 301 tariffs will be applied on top of the older legacy tariffs that date back to World Trade Organization rules setting a baseline Most Favored Nation rate, as well as on top of each other.
So if a country ends up facing tariffs based on forced labor violations as well as excess capacity, each at 10%, on top of a uniform Most Favored Nation rate of 3%, the total rate on all products from that supplying country would be 23%. And this levy will be paid by U.S. consumers, not foreigners.
Pushback from the states
Trump is especially interested in Section 301, which is meant to remedy foreign trade practices that are discriminatory, unfair or unreasonable, and that burden U.S. commerce. It sets no limit on tariff rates and lets the president discriminate among exporting countries. Furthermore, federal courts have typically given the president broad discretion in implementing the statute.
Trump chose to use this measure to punish virtually all U.S. trading partners on grounds that they failed to prevent imports into their markets that were made with forced labor. His administration based the decision on its own investigation that determined the U.S. is the only country that prevents forced labor imports.
These tariffs were set at 12.5% for countries without any formal prohibition on forced labor imports, and 10% for all other countries with such a prohibition. These tariffs are similar in scope and impact to the earlier Liberation Day tariffs.
Twenty-five U.S. states then challenged these levies at the U.S. Court of International Trade, using similar reasoning as the Supreme Court when it struck down the emergency tariffs on grounds that they were an unconstitutional tax on U.S. consumers. Citing the affordability burden, the lawsuit claims that the Section 301 tariffs do the same thing. Nor did the administration offer any indication of how the tariffs were calculated and when, if ever, they would be removed.
The lawsuit further alleges that the new tariffs go far beyond the original purpose of Section 301, which is to open specific markets to U.S. exports through negotiated policy reforms, not to impose global tariffs with no clear goal in sight.
Whether this legal challenge will succeed depends in part on whether judges will continue to defer to the president on these particular levies, no matter how much they deviate from previous practice. And I believe Trump is counting on it.
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