Friday, May 1, 2026

Oil markets are still in La La land

The Economist

Prices have risen sharply. Unfortunately, they still have further to go

Apr 30th 2026

|

6 min read

SoMEONE WAS sniffing the butane. Energy experts have long warned that the war in Iran was causing the biggest oil-supply shock in history. The closure of the Strait of Hormuz shut in 14m barrels a day of oil. To destroy that much demand, they said, the price of Brent crude should be more than double its pre-war level, at well over $150 a barrel. But oil traders were in a stupor. As recently as April 17th prices were below $90 a barrel. Over the past week, on talk of renewed fighting, they have been waking up. On April 30th prices spiked above $125.
Unfortunately, as bad as things are, the disconnect with reality endures. Not only may spot prices have further to climb, but the oil-futures market, in which speculators bet on where the oil price is going, says prices will fall every month for the rest of the year, ending 2026 at about $88. That implies most of this shock will soon be reversed. If so, traders must believe three things are true: that America and Iran will soon strike a peace deal; that their agreement will reopen Hormuz; and that, soon after the strait is clear, petrol and jet fuel will once again be plentiful. All those are in doubt.

One thing everybody should be able to agree on is that for the strait to stay shut would be a disaster. At the start of the war, lots of oil was in stocks or tankers at sea. But the ships that passed through Hormuz before the conflict had all docked by April 20th. Oil stocks will soon be at their lowest since satellite tracking began in 2018. Volumes of petrol, diesel and jet fuel at sea are already so low that gaps in supply will be inevitable. And in America petrol demand is about to surge, as the summer tempts people to get in their cars and drive.
Everybody should also acknowledge the stakes. Asia’s petrochemical industry has already idled capacity. Since the war prices of diesel and jet fuel have doubled in Asia and more than doubled in Europe. Unlike stockmarkets, where bubbles can be sustained by animal spirits alone, the price of oil is tethered to the economy at petrol pumps, docks and airports. If supply falls short of demand, prices must rise to bring about balance. There are already reports of barrels of diesel selling for $600. Good cheer cannot supplant reality.
The case for optimism is obvious. Donald Trump’s wild posting signals not just that he is rudderless, but also that he will step in whenever oil prices rise too high. Iran’s economy is broken: it urgently needs cash, which means it, too, will want a deal. If an impasse brings ruin to both sides, it will end.
The Economist is loth to second-guess those who have the facts to hand and billions of dollars at stake. However, markets have a poor record of pricing geopolitical risk. And with oil, they struggle to assess the complexities of the physical trade.
Even if a deal is in both countries’ interest, it could be hard to nail down. Each side may be underestimating the other. Mr Trump seems to think he holds all the cards. But Iran has endured long disruptions to its oil exports before, at the onset of Mr Trump’s “maximum pressure” sanctions campaign in 2018. Iran is not a democracy and the regime can survive while its people suffer. It has an incentive to hold out in the hope of a good offer for as long as it can. Mr Trump can resume the bombing, but that is as likely to delay a deal as catalyse one.
Likewise, with midterm elections looming in America, Iran’s leaders may think that Mr Trump cannot tolerate a high oil price. Yet Mr Trump is selfish. He may try to constrain price rises at home by limiting exports of refined products. The midterms are already lost, in the House at least, he may think. He is surely less bothered about the careers of Republican politicians than his own humiliation if he strikes a nuclear deal with Iran that looks worse than Barack Obama’s in 2015. His latest signal to Iran is that he is hunkering down for a long blockade.
Even if a deal is struck, the strait may not completely re-open. For one thing, the fearsome details of a nuclear pact will take months to negotiate. Now that Iran has discovered that it has leverage, it may be tempted to apply pressure with threats to close the strait again. And threats can lead to attacks. Perhaps Mr Trump will put the eradication of the nuclear programme before the complete re-opening of the strait—after all, America is an energy exporter. Supposing that America agreed to let Iran treat Hormuz as a tollgate, what then?
And even if the strait is open in principle, getting fuel into fuel tanks in practice will remain vulnerable to many unknowable delays. You can expect a rush of oil as waiting tankers escape fully laden into the Indian Ocean. But for empty tankers to return to the Persian Gulf will be more complicated. Many will have taken up bookings on other routes. The strait will need demining, which could take months. Insurance rates could be prohibitive, so governments may need to organise a scheme to cover extreme risks. Shutting down production could have damaged oil wells. Restoring output will also take time. Partially mothballed refineries won’t immediately return to full capacity.
The world is only starting to get to grips with what may lie ahead. Central banks may soon face the second inflationary shock of the decade, after the covid-19 pandemic. In Asia many governments have already taken drastic measures, such as shortening the working week. Europe’s governments will also have to change gear. So far they have focused on supporting consumer demand. They may have to deal with demand destruction—and, given the possibility of shortages of diesel and jet fuel, plan to protect food-delivery and vital services.
It will never happen, will it?
Bullish investors could be in for a nasty shock, too. The recovery from covid, Europe’s adaptation to the loss of most Russian gas and Mr Trump’s moderation of his tariffs have all led traders to trust that things always work themselves out. Amid strong corporate profits in America it may seem as if the world economy can bear any shock—and that Mr Trump will obviously back down before a catastrophe. The pain of a scenario that oil analysts have feared for decades is approaching. It will not be pretty. Get ready. ■

Thursday, April 30, 2026

Michelle Goldberg - Political Violence Is Reprehensible. That Doesn’t Make Trump Less Depraved.

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

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


Tuesday, April 28, 2026

An American Sickness


A decade ago, there was a perception that political violence came mostly from right-wing extremists. Now that U.S. politics have degraded further, and social media–drawn battle lines have hardened, more Americans are putting the blame on the far left.

Donald Trump
There is an American sickness these days that just wasn’t in our lungs before Trump came around. Photo: Andrew Leyden/Getty Images

Peter Hamby
April 27, 2026



Given his usual instincts, Donald Trump showed an impressive degree of restraint on Saturday evening shortly after a California man named Cole Tomas Allen attempted to storm the White House Correspondents’ Dinner with two guns and a pair of knives. “This was an event dedicated to freedom of speech that was supposed to bring together members of both parties, with members of the press, and in a certain way it did,” Trump said, avoiding, for the moment, his typical partisan point-scoring. “I saw a room that was just totally unified. It was, in one way, very beautiful.”

But it was only a matter of time before Trump and his allies would use the latest attempt on his life to blame the American left—and the Democratic Party—for inspiring a climate of toxic politics. On Monday, White House Press Secretary Karoline Leavitt walked out to the podium in the Brady Briefing Room loaded for bear, with a list of Democrats who have called Trump a fascist or a dictator over the years. Ed Markey. Elizabeth Warren. Adam Schiff. “Those who constantly, falsely label and slander the president as a fascist and threat to democracy and compare him to Hitler to score political points are fueling this kind of violence,” Leavitt said.

We hope you are enjoying your article!
START 14 DAY FREE TRIAL
Many of Leavitt’s examples were out of context, or just cynically intentional misreadings of how people who work in politics (or sports, for that matter) commonly speak about their profession. Campaigns are battles. Opponents are targeted or “in the crosshairs.” Primary rivals slinging negative attacks against each other sometimes commit “murder-suicides” that kill off both candidacies (see: Howard Dean and Dick Gephardt in Iowa in 2004). Leavitt herself boasted on Saturday, previewing Trump’s speech, “There will be some shots fired tonight.”

These terms have been commonplace in politics for as long as I can recall. I’m old enough to remember when liberals—and the New York Times editorial page—lost their minds at a Sarah Palin staffer placing gun sights on an infographic aimed at various Democrats she was targeting with her super PAC in 2010. Months later, the pundit class rushed to blame her for somehow inspiring the googly-eyed weirdo who shot and nearly killed Gabrielle Giffords (and did kill six others) in Arizona. They were wrong. And even though they were wrong, they were also making those accusations in the United States of America, where the First Amendment exists.

Leavitt claimed that House Minority Leader Hakeem Jeffries called for “maximum warfare” against Trump. Well, no. Jeffries recently was talking about the congressional redistricting “wars” going on across the country. “We are in an era of maximum warfare, everywhere, all the time,” he said a few weeks ago. “And we are going to keep the pressure on Republicans at every single state in the union, to ensure at the end of the day, that there is a fair, national map.”

By claiming that words are violence, Leavitt sounds very much like the safe-space snowflakes that she and her MAGA cohorts love to mock. “The left criticizing Trump is not the same as an incitement to violence,” said Brian Tyler Cohen, the popular progressive YouTube host and creator. “I get that Trump would love to label all criticism of him as incitement in an effort to chill all speech against him, but we have a First Amendment right in this country that allows us to criticize our government, and we should use it.”

But despite the half-truths, Leavitt said something else on Monday that liberals need to reckon with. “The deranged lies and smears against the president, his family, his supporters have led crazy people to believe crazy things, and they are inspired to commit violence because of those words,” she said.

Yes, Donald Trump ushered the crazies into the political mainstream a decade ago. No need to argue with that. He broke the thin membrane that kept the online kooks away from the real world. Mail bombers, Nazi marchers, the scoundrels who broke into the U.S. Capitol on January 6—that’s on him. Add in a collective addiction to social media brain rot—along with a global pandemic, mass protests about race and policing, wars in the Holy Land—and things get even uglier. There is an American sickness these days that just wasn’t in our lungs before Trump came around.

Still, as savvy people in politics like to say, two things can be true at once. And it should not be controversial to state what’s becoming obvious: There is a rising miasma of conspiratorial thinking, dangerous fact-denying, and dehumanizing language that has taken hold on the American left. It’s a political coalition that has long held itself to a higher epistemological standard than the right. Yes, the schizophrenic ’70s had their violent leftist radicals—the Weather Underground, the Black Panthers, etcetera—but since at least the 1990s, liberals could plausibly claim the nutjobs and wackos were mostly on the other side. But now it feels like the libs have a screw loose once again—and a few of them are getting guns, too.

Shift Left
In November of 2018—after the synagogue mass shooting in Pittsburgh and the arrest of a Trump-supporting man who sent explosives through the mail to CNN and other critics of the president—NPR and Marist ran a poll asking voters about civility in politics and who was to blame for its decline. Clear pluralities of voters—and independents—blamed Trump and Republicans for the increasingly nasty tone of politics. Almost no one blamed Democrats. That echoed other NPR polling from 2017, which found that a massive 70 percent of Americans said the tone of politics had worsened in Trump’s first term.

Plenty of research from that era bore out a consensus: While political violence wasn’t as widespread as media coverage suggested, it was far more likely to come from right-wing extremists than left-, and Americans generally believed that the Republicans under Trump were more responsible for toxic politics than Democrats or people on the left. That consensus is now over. The number of Americans who blame the left as much as the right for political violence has skyrocketed over the last six years.

In October, Pew found that 53 percent of Americans see left-wing extremism as a major problem, basically tied with those who view right-wing violence the same way (52 percent). In September, Morning Consult asked voters, “Who commits more violence, left- or right-wing extremists?” More Americans named left-wing extremists (29 percent) than right wing-extremists (27 percent), while a quarter said “both sides” are responsible for violence. Again, a sea change from the early years of Trumpian politics, defined by violent campaign rallies and racists marching in Charlottesville.

What changed? Two Trump assassination attempts—now three—at least two of them by lefty social media addicts. The murder of right-wing activist Charlie Kirk by a supporter of trans rights who marked his bullet casings with anti-fascist memes. A handsome college grad named Luigi Mangione who murdered the C.E.O. of UnitedHealthcare in a fit of anti-corporate rage, and was celebrated for it in certain corners of the internet. And long before all that, civil rights protests in 2020 that turned violent, with plenty of voices on the left encouraging and celebrating vandalism and looting as an act of political resistance.

Right-wing violence still exists. The family of former Minnesota House Speaker Melissa Hortman knows this all too well. But it’s also a fact that left-wing political violence is on the rise. Democrats can pretend it isn’t, but scoreboards don’t lie. According to the Center for Strategic and International Studies, 2025 marked the first year in over three decades that the number of violent left-wing incidents and plots surpassed the number of right-wing ones.

Trump and the MAGA movement have amplified all of the above with their powerful network effects on the internet, blaming Antifa or Democrats or whoever for whatever violent incident shows up in our push alerts. It’s J.D. Vance’s favorite pastime. And while some Democratic politicians have said inflammatory things in recent years, the real problem isn’t elected officials, as Leavitt tried to claim. Democratic electeds and other party leaders vehemently condemn political violence all the time—and most did over the weekend once again.

The problem is a new generation of podcasters, blue clout-chasers, and TikTok commenters who have overtaken the mainstream media not just as purveyors of facts, but as self-appointed brokers of common decency. Like anyone who spends too much time online, slowly drained of human empathy, many on the left have become too comfortable celebrating violence or bad luck that befalls their Trumpian enemies. They are too loose with their language, too cozy with conspiracies that can lead to a dark place.

Trump allies have been complaining for a while now that the mainstream press isn’t covering the conspiracy creep on the left with the same passion they gave to the right in Trump’s first term. “There was a cottage industry of reporters writing six pieces a day on QAnon years ago, but now when mainstream liberals are absolutely nuts, it’s silence,” said Alex Pfeiffer, a Republican strategist and veteran of the Trump White House. “You don’t need to attend a D.S.A. meeting to hear the filth in the shooter’s manifesto, you can just check out Ted Lieu’s X feed.”

Even podcasters on the left have started to urge their listeners and followers to tone it down. On Pod Save America last year, after Kirk’s murder, host Jon Favreau pleaded with viewers to try to maintain some kind of intellectual and moral high ground after seeing far too many on the left praise Kirk’s death and find excuses to justify violence against the right. “This is horseshit,” Favreau said in an emotional viral video. “Just because politics has failed in the past to prevent violence—just because it seems to be failing now—doesn’t mean that we should give up on it. That we should give up on speaking and acting and fighting in a way that represents our best attempt to change people’s minds; to bring the rest of the country a little bit closer to our point of view.”

The Paranoid Style
Allen, the alleged attempted Trump assassin, seemed like the kind of guy who listens to Pod Save America. By all accounts, he was a Millennial normie Democrat, not the kind of person who dabbles in 9/11 truther content. What was striking about his alleged manifesto, written shortly before he attempted to rush the Washington Hilton basement, was how much it sounded like any of the pundits and anti-Trump content creators he reportedly followed on Bluesky. In addition to calling the president a “pedophile, rapist, and traitor,” he wrote that most of the people in the room—members of the media, mostly—were “complicit” in his crimes because they were attending the dinner. Not all left-wing podcast hosts and YouTube creators use this kind of language. But many of them absolutely do—and the manifesto sounded indistinguishable from paranoid online commentary that is regularly shared by Resistance pundits and grifters.

After I scooted out of the Hilton on Saturday, on my way to get a stiff drink with a pal at an Adams Morgan bar, I stopped on the street to post a little breaking news update on Snapchat, giving my followers there some color from inside the ballroom. The comments on my posts flooded in—and they were jarring. “Staged.” “False flag.” “Staged.” It was a fake operation, many said, a pretext for Trump to finish building his White House ballroom. Fortunately, I’m able to moderate comments on Snapchat, and I blocked them from public view. But the smooth brains were pretty easy to find everywhere else.

The actress January Jones—I know, not exactly a public intellectual—posted to her 1 million Instagram followers that the shooting was faked, “a small-scale low risk assassination attempt.” Silly celeb or not, the post was a symptom of a much larger problem of a disintermediated world where people get information from influencers with a lot of followers rather than credentialed reporters and news organizations. Here was a celebrity, a loud disciple of the Resistance, pumping 4chan-level slop, without discretion, into the world. She wasn’t alone. The New York Times reported on Sunday that the term “staged” had appeared in more than 300,000 posts on X.

It’s impossible to know whether all of these posts are from Democrats or liberals—or even real humans. Nor does posting a conspiracy theory on social media mean you’re going to suddenly grab a gun, hop a train across the country, and go hunting for Republicans at the Washington Hilton. Political violence remains rare relative to other forms. But dabbling in tinfoil hats can be a slippery slope. The great liberal thinkers of the past, I imagine, would look upon this moment with shame. I dug up a quote Sunday from Isaac Asimov, a proud Democrat during his lifetime. He wrote in 1980 about “a cult of ignorance in the United States”—his take on the anti-intellectual right—and said conservatives thrive on the belief that “my ignorance is just as good as your knowledge.” He would not be pleased to learn, today, that many of his fellow travelers have settled on fighting ignorance… with ignorance.


Monday, September 1, 2025

More sweltering days forecast for September after hottest summer on record

 

More sweltering days forecast for September after hottest summer on record
By the end of August, 8,341 people had been transported by ambulance for heatstroke in Tokyo alone.
By the end of August, 8,341 people had been transported by ambulance for heatstroke in Tokyo alone. | AFP-JIJI
By Jessica Speed
STAFF WRITER
 SHARE/SAVE
Sep 1, 2025

Listen to this article
3 min
This summer was Japan’s hottest on record, with average temperatures nationwide more than 2.36 degrees Celsius higher than usual, according to a report released Monday by the Meteorological Agency.
The agency said this summer (June through August) was the hottest since records began, surpassing highs set in 2023 and 2024, when the deviation from the norm was 1.76 C in both years.

The agency attributed the heat to global warming and an unusually strong Pacific high pressure system, bolstered by convective activity in the Indian Ocean and around the Philippines.

Aug. 5 saw the hottest temperature in Japan on record, with the city of Isesaki, Gunma Prefecture, reaching 41.8 C. Of the 153 meteorological stations nationwide, 132 recorded their highest summer temperatures ever. The cumulative number of extremely hot days observed at weather stations nationwide this summer reached 9,385, surpassing the previous record of 8,821 in 2024.

Temperatures reached 38 C or above Monday in the town of Hatoyama in Saitama Prefecture and the cities of Nagoya, Tajimi, Kuki, Kiryu and Toyama in Aichi, Gifu, Saitama, Gunma and Toyama prefectures, respectively.

The extreme heat is expected to continue into September, with a one-month forecast released by the agency Thursday putting the probability of above-average temperatures for the month at 80% nationwide.

According to the report, temperatures are projected to remain high across the country through Friday, with an 80% probability of exceeding seasonal norms. The Tohoku and Hokkaido regions have a 70% chance of higher-than-average temperatures from Sept. 6 to 12, while other regions face an 80% probability. Elevated temperatures are expected to persist into late September and October, although with slightly lower probabilities.

The agency also expects there to be less precipitation and more sunlight across the country, though the western part of the Hokkaido-Tohoku region is expected to be rainier in September.

The most recent three-month outlook issued by the agency predicts above-normal temperatures across the country through November, driven by continued high sea surface temperatures near the Philippines and westerly winds flowing farther north than usual.

The hotter-than-average temperatures are also taking a toll on emergency services. By the end of August, 8,341 people had been transported by ambulance for heatstroke in Tokyo alone, surpassing last year’s record of 7,996, according to the Tokyo Fire Department.

The department is urging residents to take necessary precautions against heat exhaustion and heatstroke, such as using air conditioning, wearing hats or parasols outside to avoid direct sunlight, and drinking small sips of water before beginning to feel thirsty.

Yes, Cash Transfers Work -- by Annie Lowrey

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

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.