The Economist
Prices have risen sharply. Unfortunately, they still have further to go
Apr 30th 2026
|
6 min read
The Economist
Prices have risen sharply. Unfortunately, they still have further to go
Apr 30th 2026
|
6 min read
Michelle Goldberg - Political Violence Is Reprehensible. That Doesn’t Make Trump Less Depraved.
Read time: 4 minutes
April 27, 2026
Cole Tomas Allen, who was arrested during an attempt to storm the White House Correspondents’ Association dinner on Saturday, may be America’s first normie liberal terrorist.
The right, naturally, sees Allen as part of a pattern, lumping him in with figures like Thomas Matthew Crooks, who fired on Donald Trump in 2024, grazing his ear; Ryan Wesley Routh, who carried a semiautomatic rifle to one of Trump’s golf courses a few months later; or Tyler Robinson, charged in the killing of Charlie Kirk last year. But all those men had weird or heterogenous politics. Crooks was a nihilistic Republican misfit. Routh had a history of violence and a delusional fixation on Ukraine, where he reportedly tried to join the war effort. Robinson seems to have cooked his brain in online fetish subcultures.
But Allen, who on Monday was charged with attempting to assassinate the president, seemed to be a man with remarkably ordinary political opinions. Social media posts that appear to come from him suggest that he despised ICE, cared a lot about Ukraine, and, like the majority of Americans, wanted to see Trump impeached. Far from a radical leftist, he reposted criticisms of pro-Palestine protesters and the left-wing streamer Hasan Piker. He wasn’t exactly a standard Democrat — he was registered to no political party, and at least at one point was an evangelical Christian — but from what we know so far, before he showed up at the Washington Hilton, he had fairly mainstream beliefs.
This makes Allen’s apparent attempt at political martyrdom particularly convenient for conservatives who want to stigmatize Democratic denunciations of the president. National Review blamed “the feverish opposition to Trump” for allowing “sundry fanatics and losers to resort to political violence.” The Wall Street Journal’s editorial board tied Saturday’s attack to a political culture in which Trump’s opponents have lost “all judgment and proportion.” Some nonpartisan journalists have parroted this framing. On CNN, Dana Bash asked Representative Jamie Raskin whether he’s thinking twice about “heated rhetoric” against the president, such as calling him “terrible for this country.”
I can’t really blame Republicans for exploiting the attack; Allen has provided them with an irresistible rhetorical cudgel. The problem, of course, is that Trump is indeed terrible for this country. The fact that people have tried to kill him can’t be a reason to eschew frankness about his depravity. Rather, it’s a reason to reiterate that even depravity doesn’t justify political violence, which is morally abhorrent, socially corrosive and counterproductive.
It’s true that the manifesto attributed to Allen contains exaggerated accusations. “I am no longer willing to permit a pedophile, rapist and traitor to coat my hands with his crimes,” the manifesto declares. There is no convincing evidence that Trump has ever abused children; all the women who’ve credibly accused him of sexual assault have been adults. Calling Trump a “pedophile” has become a too-common way to describe the president’s intimate relationship with Jeffrey Epstein and coverup of the Epstein files. The manifesto is a reminder that all of us should be more precise in our language. To describe Trump accurately, however, will always sound to some like incitement.
There’s a fierce argument in America about whether the right or the left is more violent. Until very recently, there was no contest: The right was. (A 2024 study using National Institute of Justice data found that in the United States since 1990, “far-right extremists have committed far more ideologically motivated homicides than far-left or radical Islamist extremists.”) In recent years, however, there’s been an uptick in left-wing terrorist attacks and plots.
A report on this phenomenon from the Center for Strategic and International Studies suggests that there’s a ratchet at work. It noted that both Republicans and Democrats overestimate their foes’ approval of violence, and said, “Widespread polarization and misperceptions that the other side is far more violent than it actually is creates a dangerous environment where extremists can more easily rationalize using violence.” Each act of political violence further frays our threadbare social fabric, laying the foundation for authoritarianism.
After any act of political terror, conspiracists will often make “false flag” accusations, and Saturday was no different; as The New York Times reported, uses of the word “staged” soared on X. There is, of course, no defense for spreading disinformation or indulging in ideological self-delusion. Still, we can recognize that people start such rumors because they correctly intuit that violence often discredits the causes that inspire it. The left-wing terrorism rampant in the 1970s helped usher in Ronald Reagan, not socialist revolution. The 1995 Oklahoma City bombing ended up being a boon to Bill Clinton’s political fortunes. By attempting to kill Trump in 2024, Crooks helped to elect him. Violence isn’t just ethically reprehensible; it’s strategically stupid.
At least one person at the White House correspondents’ dinner was elated by the chaos the shooter caused. Describing agents running into the room with guns amid screaming and flipping tables, Dana White, the Trump-supporting head of Ultimate Fighting Championship, said it was “awesome — I literally took every minute of it in.” Perhaps he understood that the attack had given his movement a gift. Whatever evil the would-be assassin thought he was fighting, all he did was feed it.
Get used to the long Iran war
Tehran has a strong incentive to keep the conflict going
By Edward Luce
For The Financial Times
April 28
It took America 12 years from the first Gulf war in 1991 to the second to get rid of Saddam Hussein. The dictator’s capture was followed by years more of Iraqi insurgency. Starting with the financial markets, there is a lot of complacency on how soon the third Gulf war is likely to end. Donald Trump’s Operation Epic Fury on Iran has turned into an epic search for a way out. There is no obvious off-ramp, however, that does not lead back to the highway.
Iran’s latest offer illustrates why. Under the plan, Trump would lift the blockade, Iran would open the Strait of Hormuz and they would tackle the nuclear issue later on. Though Trump rejected Iran’s proposal, it is unclear at this point that he can get anything much better. It was offered shortly after the US president had for the second time had to cancel his negotiators’ trip to Islamabad. Much has been said about how unqualified Steve Witkoff and Jared Kushner are to conduct complex nuclear talks. It may be a while before we find out the extent of their inexpertise.
The war’s most salient feature is that Iran has a strong incentive to keep it going. No matter how many times Trump offers a new golden age for the Middle East, Iran will find it hard to believe he will not flip back to regime change if things do not go his way. He has been veering from promising heaven to vowing hell on an almost daily basis. That Iran’s regime is brutal and fanatical is no excuse. Even the gentlest of negotiating counterparts would find it hard to take him at his word.
From Iran’s standpoint, the longer the waterway is closed, the more likely Trump will be to digest that lesson. But let us imagine that he agrees to some variation of Iran’s recent offer. Each side would hold a threat over the other in case the nuclear talks faltered or failed. Trump’s weapon would be a resumption of bombing that would include more decapitation strikes as well as targeting bridges, power stations and even desalination plants. Iran’s weapon would be to close the Strait of Hormuz again. It does not take a grand strategist to see which threat carries more leverage. Whatever he may say about Iran’s nuclear ambitions, Trump has made it clear that reopening the waterway is his chief war aim. Iran has made it clear that it can absorb plenty of punishment from the air.
If they do somehow manage to reach a nuclear deal, that would still leave Iran’s missile programme and regional proxies unaddressed. That Trump appears to have dropped the latter two goals as part of his framework is under-appreciated outside the Middle East. For the Gulf states, closing Iran’s missile production matters as much as giving up its stockpile of enriched uranium. Their expatriate-based economic models depend on ending Iran’s missile and drone threat. Anything less could be disastrous for business.
For Israel, ending Iran’s support for militant groups is almost as important as killing its nuclear programme. At any point, Israel could scupper a Trump deal by fully resuming hostilities with Hizbollah. Iran would retaliate and the situation would revert to square one. Trump and Benjamin Netanyahu’s chief criticism of Barack Obama’s 2015 Iran-US nuclear deal was that it omitted those two goals. Trump is now ready to do what Obama did.
The bet is that Trump will take a temporary off-ramp in the Gulf before his China summit with Xi Jinping in mid-May. From the moment he returned to the White House in 2025, Trump has been pushing for a Xi meeting. After the two leaders agreed a trade war truce in October, Trump finally got the invitation he had been soliciting. His China state visit was originally scheduled for late March. He requested a delay to mid-May because Epic Fury was still raging. He will not want to postpone again.
Wars come to an end when one side wins or when both sides are exhausted. Short of gambling on a US ground invasion — a spectre to which Trump is rightly allergic — we can discount the chances of either side winning. Iran’s willingness to outwait Trump is thus the key question. Here again China’s role is critical. Trump’s blockade on Iranian vessels and ports in practice seems to exclude ships that are destined for China. Seizing Chinese property would be tantamount to declaring war. Trump will not risk that. Which means Iran can rely on Chinese revenues to help keep it going.
Meanwhile, Pakistan, effectively a client state of China, as well as mediator in the talks, just gave Iran permission to use its territory as a land route for trade. As has often been observed, Trump started this war but Iran will decide when it ends.
edward.luce@ft.com
Yes, Cash Transfers Work
The Atlantic by Annie Lowrey / Aug 30
In 2023, the United States produced $28 trillion worth of goods and services. The average family had a net worth of $192,900. Shares in American companies accounted for more than half of global-market capitalization. Yet one in eight Americans lived in poverty, as did one in seven children.
The best way we have to help those people is to give them money. Year in and year out, Social Security lifts more than 20 million Americans above the poverty line; tax credits lift 6 million; and food stamps, housing subsidies, unemployment insurance, and Supplemental Security Income payments lift another 2 million to 4 million each. Expanding these programs would move the poverty rate lower, experts have long argued. Providing families with much-needed cash also tends to have a range of positive knock-on effects, such as keeping kids in school and improving health measures.
But a new set of cash-transfer programs has had lackluster results. Writing in the new publication The Argument, Kelsey Piper notes that “multiple large, high-quality randomized studies are finding that guaranteed income transfers do not appear to produce sustained improvements in mental health, stress levels, physical health, child development outcomes or employment. Given the sobering results, politicians and policy makers should hesitate before pumping funds into these safety-net initiatives, she argues. If not, “money will be wasted on things that don’t work.”
Having a technocratic debate over how to spend the next marginal safety-net dollar feels a touch absurd at the moment. Republicans are gutting the Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program and Medicaid to finance tax cuts for billionaires; Trump-administration officials are sending masked thugs to disappear people off the streets when they are not busy texting war plans to my boss; American democracy is fading; nobody is talking about instituting a universal basic income anytime soon. Still, policy design is important, and the analysis of these new studies seems to have convinced a number of Beltway wonks and denizens of econ Twitter that cash transfers might not be as good of an idea as we once thought.
Yet the argument has tended to overinterpret a limited and novel body of evidence while ignoring decades of sterling research showing that cash—particularly when targeted to infants and children—is near unmatched as a salve for poverty and its horrible consequences.
The new studies focused on programs that were launched over the past eight years. Each worked in a similar way. Researchers found people interested in receiving unconditional cash payments, divided participants into a control group and a treatment group, disbursed the money, and studied the differences between the two groups. The programs varied in the types of people they enrolled (Baby’s First Years targeted infants and mothers; the Denver Basic Income Project, the homeless; the Compton Pledge, low-income households) and the size and duration of transfers (the OpenResearch Unconditional Income Study offered $1,000 a month, Baby’s First Years, one-third that sum).
The results were disappointing in some respects. “Homeless people, new mothers and low-income Americans all over the country received thousands of dollars. And it’s practically invisible in the data,” Piper writes in her summary. Denver’s program did not lead to a material reduction in homelessness. Compton’s did not improve its participants’ psychological well-being or alleviate certain measures of financial distress. The OpenResearch initiative did not bolster health outcomes. Baby’s First Years did not advance child development or spur families to move to better neighborhoods. “On so many important metrics, these people are statistically indistinguishable from those who did not receive this aid.”
But people receiving aid were statistically distinguishable from those not receiving aid: They had more money to use on the things they needed, or wanted. In the OpenResearch pilot, participants spent more on housing, transportation, and food. Mothers who got cash through the Baby’s First Years initiative were less likely to be in poverty than those who did not. In other words, a famed anti-poverty measure reduced poverty.
This intuitive finding is underplayed, perhaps because it is so intuitive. Cash transfers aren’t new. No safety-net policy has ever been as thoroughly examined over the course of decades. Last year alone, initiatives to send cash and cashlike substitutes to American families cut the overall poverty rate in half. Just a few years ago, a massive temporary federal cash transfer to parents slashed the child-poverty rate to a historic low of 5.2 percent; the rate rebounded after the program ended. You give people money; they have money.
That said, I am not surprised that the pilots’ effects were limited, given when they were happening and how they were structured. The initiatives took place during and after the coronavirus pandemic, when Congress flooded families with stimulus checks, $600-a-week bonuses to unemployment-insurance payments, and a $3,600-per-kid child allowance. If the no-strings-attached payments from OpenResearch or Baby’s First Years were the only cash transfers that low-income families were receiving, I imagine that they would have had a stronger impact. (Cash transfers have more bang for the buck in developing countries than the super-wealthy United States for a related reason: The more money people have, the more expensive it is to improve their situation; the more intense the material deprivation, the greater effect a single dollar has in alleviating it.)
More important, the pilots took place during an acute cost-of-living crisis: a giant surge in inflation combined with a long-simmering run-up in the price for child care, health care, and housing. A few hundred dollars a month was never going to secure a single mom an apartment in Denver or cover the cost of 9-to-5 day care in Queens. Thus it might have had a smaller impact on financial well-being than anticipated, and might explain why transfers did more for people living in low-cost Illinois and Texas than in the witheringly expensive Los Angeles metro area.
There is a real lesson for policy makers here. Cash is no good if you cannot buy the things you need with it, and the brutal cost of day care, elder care, higher education, doctor visits, prescription medication, and rent—especially rent—continues to hammer the working and middle classes. We cannot transfer our way out of this crisis. If you give parents child-care vouchers, prices will go up unless supply expands. If you provide rental assistance, landlords will soak up the cash. Right now, surging energy costs are eating up Social Security payments, jobless benefits, and earned-income tax-credit transfers.
But the relationship between household income and supply constraints is not the focus of the current debate. Rather, folks are dinging cash-transfer initiatives for failing to bolster breastfeeding rates, cut maternal stress levels, change people’s physical activity, or increase people’s educational attainment. Given these results, a “big ‘give everyone cash’ program” will not “make them measurably healthier or happier, or get them better jobs, or improve their children’s intellectual development,” Piper writes, not “at any detectable scale.”
Hundreds of studies of cash-transfer programs conducted over the past half century, however, have come to the opposite conclusion. Giving people money does have strong ancillary benefits. Cash makes people healthier, eliminates hunger, increases educational attainment, cuts the disability rate, reduces inequality, raises lifetime earnings, and prevents incarceration. The strongest benefits redound to infants and children. But cash is not magic, and these second- and third-order effects take time to show up in the data. Mothers’ pensions, the precedent for today’s welfare program, had muted effects on the women receiving them from the 1910s to the 1930s, but significant effects on the lifetime earnings and educational attainment of their sons, decades later.
Perhaps other interventions would have worked better. Perhaps researchers should have taken the money from the pilots and spent it on, say, workforce training, job coaching, therapy, health counseling, or some other intervention. But such policies do not have a promising track record, and these studies shed no light on their comparative efficacy versus cash. Complicated programs with complicated participation criteria also tend to be expensive for the government to run and difficult for citizens to navigate, meaning fewer people use them. That’s a big reason to just give people money. Folks would rather receive cash than a refundable tax credit to reduce energy costs, or an income-scaled voucher redeemable at a certain location after you fill out a bunch of paperwork.
The point of giving people money right now is to get them out of poverty. The point of giving people money is to give their kids a better chance at a healthy, abundant life. Reading the studies, I kept on thinking about that temporary child allowance. When parents received the cash, they didn’t feel happier. They moved above the poverty line, and bought more groceries. They could afford more formula for their babies and berries for their toddlers. Maybe that’s a disappointment. But as a parent myself, I kept thinking: What a win.
Yglesias - Perfectly Legal and Undeniably Scandalous
Unlike his legally dubious attempt to fire a Fed governor, a lot of the president’s most irresponsible decisions are well within his authority.
August 31, 2025 at 12:00 PM UTC
By Matthew Yglesias
Matthew Yglesias is a columnist for Bloomberg Opinion. A co-founder of and former columnist for Vox, he writes the Slow Boring blog and newsletter. He is author of “One Billion Americans.”
One of the defining features of Donald Trump’s second presidency is an endless parade of legally dubious assaults on the foundations of American institutions. His administration’s attempt to destroy the independence of the Federal Reserve, with the director of the Federal Housing Finance Agency rummaging through private mortgage filings to gin up bad-faith charges of misconduct to create a pretext for firing a member of the Fed’s board, is only the latest example.
But there’s a popular aphorism in Washington: The scandal isn’t what’s illegal, the scandal is what’s legal. So it’s important not to let certain pernicious yet permissible Trump moves get lost in the shuffle.
Chief among these is the firing earlier this month of Air Force Lieutenant General Jeffrey Kruse as head of the Defense Intelligence Agency. Kruse was cashiered on a Friday afternoon without so much as an explanation — similar to how the administration handled dismissals of senior military officers earlier this year.
Firing high-ranking military officers is unquestionably a legitimate exercise of presidential power, and there is certainly no legal obligation for the president or his team to explain their reasons. Still, it is highly unusual to fire commanders in this way. Unlike cabinet secretaries and other conventional political appointees who resign as a matter of course when a new president is elected, the long-established custom in the United States is for flag officers to remain in place across administrations.
Kruse appears to have been fired because the White House did not like the DIA’s assessment of the efficacy of US air strikes against Iranian nuclear facilities. Again, the president is legally allowed to punish the head of an intelligence agency for reaching a conclusion that he disagrees with. But absent clear evidence of misconduct, it’s extremely unadvisable.
Intelligence work is difficult. Agencies often disagree about things in good faith. If political decision-makers start making it clear that only certain conclusions are acceptable, the quality of the work product is going to be compromised, and ultimately they will find themselves receiving bad information. And intelligence failures can blow up in spectacular ways.
Trump, of all people, should know this: The story of his rise to power cannot be told without explaining how the US war in Iraq discredited George W. Bush and the Republican Party establishment even while leaving much of the basic appeal of cultural conservatism in place. Bush never did anything quite as clumsy as the outright firing an agency head for saying the wrong thing, but his subtler modes of influence changed things for the worse. Trump’s cruder approach risks even larger disasters.
And he’s applied the same blunt approach to the transparent and staid realm of economic data. The US commissioner of labor statistics is a Senate-confirmed political appointee, so Trump clearly had the authority to fire Erika McEntarfer from the job several weeks ago. In his place, he wants to install a hyper-partisan economist from the right-wing Heritage Foundation.
The propaganda upside to installing a hack at the BLS is clear enough. And it’s unquestionably legal. But this kind of move, to quote another famous saying, is worse than a crime; it’s a mistake.
It is far more important, both substantively and politically, to try to improve economic conditions rather than to try to improve economic numbers. Short of an outright recession, pretty much any situation can be seen as a glass half full or half empty. The White House usually tries to make the case for half full, while the opposition party argues for half empty. Juking the stats could give the White House a leg up — but would also make it easier for the opposition to dismiss any good news as fabrication.
A more serious issue is that reliable economic data is essential for effective economic policy.
At the beginning of former President Barack Obama’s tenure, for example, the Commerce Department’s Bureau of Economic Analysis underestimated the severity of the recession. The data were eventually revised, and it’s possible to argue that the less grim numbers made Obama look better in the moment. But long term, it was a disaster: Neither Congress nor the administration had an accurate read on the state of the US economy, leading to a weaker stimulus, with dire effects for both their own political projects and American workers.
Trump’s tendency to treat disagreement as disrespect — and to conflate agreement with respect, an equally dangerous trait that was flagrantly on display at last week’s three-hour cabinet meeting — blinds both the country and himself to the possibility that things aren’t going as well as he’d like. His firing last week of the director of the Centers for Disease Control, which bodes ill for US public health, calls to mind his hostility early in the Covid-19 pandemic to the idea of widespread testing for the virus. It’s easy to forget, but long before the controversies over mask rules and school closures and vaccines, there was a prolonged period when the administration could have taken preemptive action against a virus that was then limited to China. Instead, it chose to downplay the risks.
A president is certainly within his rights to fire the head of the CDC, the DIA or the BLS. These are simply “normal” bad decisions, not ones that raise constitutional questions. But they are often consequential, and Trump’s impulses are consistently irresponsible.