In this episode, How Do We Fix it discusses how the war in Ukraine is changing the debate over fossil fuel dependency. This week's guest is climate economist and Bloomberg News columnist Gernot Wagner of NYU and Columbia School of Business.
Rev. Jesse Jackson announces his candidacy for the Democratic Presidential nomination, 11/3/83.
The death of Rev.Jesse Jackson is more than the passing of a civil rights leader; it is the closing of a chapter in America’s long, unfinished struggle for justice. For more than six decades, he was a towering figure in the struggle for racial equality, economic justice, and global human rights. His voice—firm, resonant, and morally urgent—became synonymous with the ongoing fight for dignity for marginalized people worldwide.
"Our father was a servant leader — not only to our family, but to the oppressed, the voiceless, and the overlooked around the world,” the Jackson family said in a statement.
Jackson Sr. died on Tuesday at the age of 84. His family announced that he passed peacefully, surrounded by loved ones, after years of declining health linked to progressive supranuclear palsy (PSP), a degenerative neurological disorder he had lived with for more than a decade. Jackson had also publicly disclosed a Parkinson’s diagnosis in 2017.
Born in Greenville, South Carolina, Jackson came of age in the segregated South, where he quickly developed a passion for activism. He attended North Carolina A&T State University, earning a degree in sociology before pursuing divinity studies at the Chicago Theological Seminary. It was during this period that he became deeply involved in the civil rights movement, joining demonstrations and organizing student support for the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr.
Jackson participated in the historic 1965 Selma-to-Montgomery march and soon joined the Southern Christian Leadership Conference (SCLC), working closely with King. He rose rapidly within the organization, eventually leading Operation Breadbasket, the SCLC’s economic empowerment initiative. King praised Jackson’s leadership, noting that he had “done better than a good job” in advancing the program’s mission.
Jackson was present at the Lorraine Motel in Memphis when King was assassinated in 1968—an event that profoundly shaped the rest of his life’s work.
“He taught me that protest must have purpose, that faith must have feet, and that justice is not seasonal, it is daily work,” fellow civil rights activist the Rev. Al Sharpton wrote in a statement.
What made Jackson different from many of his contemporaries was his instinct for building coalitions. He understood that the fight for civil rights could not be waged solely within the Black community. His founding of People United to Save Humanity (PUSH), later known as the Rainbow PUSH Coalition, in 1971was an attempt—radical for its time—to unite the poor, the marginalized, and the politically alienated across racial and ethnic lines.
Jackson’s political influence grew further when he launched two groundbreaking presidential campaigns. In 1984, he became the second Black American to mount a national presidential bid, winning more than 18% of the primary vote. Four years later, he expanded his coalition, winning 11 primaries and caucuses and demonstrating the electoral potential of a multiracial, progressive movement.
His campaigns helped reshape the Democratic Party, pushing issues of poverty, racial justice, and foreign policy into the national spotlight. Jackson proved that a multiracial, progressive coalition was not only possible but powerful.
Rev. Jackson secured the release of Americans detained abroad, including U.S. soldiers held in Yugoslavia in 1999, a U.S. Navy pilot captured in Syria in 1984, and hundreds of women and children trapped in Iraq in 1990. President Bill Clinton awarded him the Presidential Medal of Freedom in 2000 for these efforts.
His humanitarian work reinforced his reputation as a global advocate for peace and justice.
In his later years, Jackson remained outspoken on issues ranging from voting rights to economic inequality. He criticized political leaders across the spectrum and continued to champion progressive causes, endorsing Sen. Bernie Sanders during the 2020 presidential campaign.
His health began to decline significantly in the 2010s and 2020s. PSP limited his mobility and speech, and he spent periods hospitalized before transitioning to outpatient care in Chicago. Despite these challenges, he continued to make public appearances and remained engaged with Rainbow PUSH initiatives.
"His longevity is part of the story," said Rashad Robinson, the former president of the seven-million-member online justice organization Color of Change. "This is someone who had so many chances to do something else. And this is what chose to do with his life."
Rev. Jackson's critics often accused him of being too ambitious, too outspoken, too willing to insert himself into the spotlight. But ambition is not a sin in the fight for justice. Outspokenness is not a flaw when silence is complicity. And visibility is not vanity when the issues at stake are life and death for millions.
Jackson’s life was defined by a simple but profound conviction: that America could and must be better. His voice may be gone, but the movement he helped build continues to echo through the ongoing struggle for equality.
Hugo Balta is the executive editor of The Fulcrum and the publisher of the Latino News Network.
An op-ed challenging claims of American moral decline and arguing that everyday citizens still uphold shared values of justice and compassion.
When thinking about the American people, columnist David Brooks is a glass-half-full kind of guy, but I, on the contrary, see the glass overflowing with goodness.
In his farewell column to The New York Times readers, Brooks wrote, “The most grievous cultural wound has been the loss of a shared moral order. We told multiple generations to come up with their own individual values. This privatization of morality burdened people with a task they could not possibly do, leaving them morally inarticulate and unformed. It created a naked public square where there was no broad agreement about what was true, beautiful and good. Without shared standards of right and wrong, it’s impossible to settle disputes; it’s impossible to maintain social cohesion and trust. Every healthy society rests on some shared conception of the sacred — sacred heroes, sacred texts, sacred ideals — and when that goes away, anxiety, atomization and a slow descent toward barbarism are the natural results.”
Despite having been writing for more than a decade and having hundreds more columns published, I am going to have to disagree with Brooks on this one.
The vast majority of Americans continue to hold shared values of what is sacred. The disconnect comes when we continue to elect officials who no longer act as public servants or representatives. And because of gerrymandering and perverse incentives in primary elections, our representatives no longer represent our cultural values.
None of this is to say that I am not deeply concerned about the state of our democracy. We have a president who is more concerned with accumulating personal wealth than with putting the interests of the American people before his own, and a justice system that is no longer blinded by partisan politics.
But I think it's too easy to blame the American people’s “hyperindividualism” for our current situation, over which they have no control.
An overwhelming majority of Americans are appalled and sickened by the Epstein Files and long to see those who committed the crimes of pedophilia, sex trafficking of minors, and all those involved in covering it up, met with the full force of the law.
A plurality of Americans finds the actions of masked Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) and Customs and Border Patrol (CBP), especially when shooting citizens practicing their Constitutional rights or ripping 2-year-olds or 5-year-olds from their parents and caregivers and being detained in another state, unpalatable and un-American.
A recent Gallup poll found 67% of Americans trust their local leaders to handle community issues, compared to just 33% trusting the federal government. Another study shows that 84% say democracy is either in crisis or facing serious challenges. So by extension, that 84% is likely to view the raid of a Georgia county’s election facility by federal officials or the arrests of journalists as examples of our civic emergency.
The lion's share of Americans appreciates the forty-four Danish soldiers killed in the United States’ War in Afghanistan, the highest per capita death toll among coalition forces, after the September 11th attacks, with a majority of Americans still supporting the North Atlantic Treaty Organization (NATO).
A majority of Americans oppose President Donald Trump’s plan to replace the White House’s East Wing with a $300 million ballroom, and while there is no polling yet, these same Americans are most likely to be displeased with the president suing our own Internal Revenue Service (IRS) for $10 billion when many Americans can’t afford their healthcare, let alone groceries.
During the same week Brooks’ column was published, there were countless stories of neighbors helping neighbors and communities providing for their residents during the intense cold and snow that blanketed more than half of the country.
Influencers across the spectrum took to their platforms, telling their followers that what we are living through is not okay and “I see you.” We learned that Alex Pretti’s last words before he was shot and killed were “Are you okay?” and we saw Minnesotans respond by delivering food and coats to those in need.
The American people have not lost their moral compass. Rather, they have lost faith that their elected leaders share it. What we are living is not a descent into barbarism that Brooks fears, but rather a profound disassociation between the values held by ordinary Americans and those practiced by the powerful and connected.
The goodness seen overflowing in communities across this nation, in neighbors helping neighbors, in strangers standing up for what's right, in citizens demanding accountability, proves that our shared conception of the sacred remains intact. Americans still know what is true, beautiful, and good. We still recognize justice, compassion, and human dignity when we see them, and injustice when we witness it.
The challenge before us is not to rediscover our values, but to ensure our institutions once again reflect them. There is nothing wrong with America that cannot be fixed by what is right with America, and what is right with America is, and always has been, the decency of its people.
Lynn Schmidt is a columnist and Editorial Board member with the St. Louis Post-Dispatch. She holds a master's of science in political science as well as a bachelor's of science in nursing.
U.S. Secretary of the Department of Homeland Security Kristi Noem during a meeting of the Cabinet in the Cabinet Room of the White House on January 29, 2026 in Washington, DC.
On January 8, 2026, one day after the tragic killing of Renee Good in Minneapolis, Minnesota, Kristi Noem, Secretary of the Department of Homeland Security, held a press conference in New York highlighting what she portrayed as the dangerous conditions under which ICE agents are currently working. Referring to the incident in Minneapolis, she said Good died while engaged in “an act of domestic terrorism.”
She compared what Good allegedly tried to do to an ICE agent to what happened last July when an off-duty Customs and Border Protection Officer was shot on the street in Fort Washington Park, New York. Mincing no words, Norm called the alleged perpetrators “scumbags” who “were affiliated with the transnational criminal organization, the notorious Trinitarios gang.”
Norm said that following the shooting, DHS “began to target every single last person who is affiliated with them.” All that was pretty standard fare for our Homeland Security Secretary.
What was not standard fare was that she delivered remarks while standing behind a podium bearing the phrase “One of Ours, All of Yours.” Above that phrase was the Department of Homeland Security’s logo
“One of Ours, All of Yours” is not the kind of promise law enforcement agencies typically make. Indeed, its website proclaims that ICE will “protect America” and “preserve national security and public safety.”
Noem left that language behind and substituted a threat of collective punishment.
Constitutional democracies provide due process and determine guilt through trials conducted according to strict procedures. Whatever our political differences, Americans should treasure and defend that commitment and lobby Congress to ensure that ICE adheres to it.
In contrast, collective punishment was a tactic used by the Nazi’s during World War II. As one commentator notes, the phrase “One of Ours, All of Yours” evokes “the Lidice Massacre in June 1942, where Nazis retaliated for…(the) assassination (of a high-ranking figure in the German SS) by wiping out the Czech village.”
“SS forces,” they continue, “shot nearly all men over 14, sent women to Ravensbrück camp, and scattered children…. They then razed the site, killing about 340 in a symbol of terror tactics.”
Let’s be clear, collective punishment is never justified, not even to deter violence directed at an individual. It corrodes democratic life and is explicitly prohibited by international humanitarian law.
For example, Article 33 of the Geneva Convention Relative to the Protection of Civilian Persons in Time of War says that “No protected person may be punished for an offence he or she has not personally committed. Collective penalties and likewise all measures of intimidation or of terrorism are prohibited.”
As Professor Shane Darcy observes, in a just society, “an individual may be punished for acts or omissions only where there is personal wrongdoing on that person’s part; that is to say, one person cannot generally be punished for the acts of another.” But Noem seems to be less interested in doing justice than in using ICE to instill fear.
America should be better than that.
“(L)egions of masked immigration officers operating in near-total anonymity on the orders of the president,” Pro Publica’s J. David McSwane and Hannah Allam argue, “cross(es)… a line that had long set the United States apart from the world’s most repressive regimes. ICE…has become an unfettered and unaccountable national police force.”
And what do we make of Noem’s use of the phrase “One of Ours, All of Yours”? It is not the first time that members of the Trump Administration have invoked or alluded to things that would once have been taboo in American politics.
But no more.
“Several high-profile political leaders have,” Professors David Collinson and Keith Grint observe, “in recent months been seen apparently dabbling in Nazi allusions. In many cases, dog whistle messages send oblique signals to supporters. These are pitched at a frequency that most listeners can’t hear but are meaningful to those seeking confirmation of their own views.”
Recall Elon Musk’s straight-arm salute during rallies to celebrate the inauguration of President Trump for a second term. Steve Bannon did the same thing during the annual conference of the Conservative Political Action Committee.
And the president himself has used language associated with the Nazi regime when he calls political opponents “vermin” and accuses immigrants of “poisoning the blood of our country”.
Let me be clear, I do not mean to suggest that Noem, Musk, Bannon, or President Trump are Nazi sympathizers. What seems clear, however, is that they are offering a vision of a society inexorably divided between insiders and outsiders and friends and enemies.
The vision of ICE they offer is as an enforcer of those boundaries, operating with impunity.
It is one thing for a leader to communicate to those who work under her that she will have their backs. It is quite another thing to talk in ways that instill terror in the population that ICE serves.
The United States has had a serious problem of illegal immigration, and we need to address the consequences of that problem. But we don’t need to do so by pitting Americans and residents of this country against each other or encouraging ICE agents to regard migrants as a less-than-human threat.
We need to address our problems in ways appropriate to a constitutional democracy.
The deaths of Renee Good and Alex Pretti should remind us that no one can be safe unless we do so. Kristi Noem’s embrace of collective punishment takes us in a different direction.
Austin Sarat is the William Nelson Cromwell professor of jurisprudence and political science at Amherst College.
Eric Trump, the newly appointed ALT5 board director of World Liberty Financial, walks outside of the NASDAQ in Times Square as they mark the $1.5- billion partnership between World Liberty Financial and ALT5 Sigma with the ringing of the NASDAQ opening bell, on Aug. 13, 2025, in New York City.
Why does the Trump family always get a pass?
Deputy Attorney General Todd Blanche joined ABC’s “This Week” on Sunday to defend or explain a lot of controversies for the Trump administration: the Epstein files release, the events in Minneapolis, etc. He was also asked about possible conflicts of interest between President Trump’s family business and his job. Specifically, Blanche was asked about a very sketchy deal Trump’s son Eric signed with the UAE’s national security adviser, Sheikh Tahnoon.
Shortly before Trump was inaugurated in early 2025, Tahnoon invested $500 million in the Trump-owned World Liberty, a then newly launched cryptocurrency outfit. A few months later, UAE was granted permission to purchase sensitive American AI chips. According to the Wall Street Journal, which broke the story, “the deal marks something unprecedented in American politics: a foreign government official taking a major ownership stake in an incoming U.S. president’s company.”
“How do you respond to those who say this is a serious conflict of interest?” ABC host George Stephanopoulos asked.
“I love it when these papers talk about something being unprecedented or never happening before,” Blanche replied, “as if the Biden family and the Biden administration didn’t do exactly the same thing, and they were just in office.”
Blanche went on to boast about how the president is utterly transparent regarding his questionable business practices: “I don’t have a comment on it beyond Trump has been completely transparent when his family travels for business reasons. They don’t do so in secret. We don’t learn about it when we find a laptop a few years later. We learn about it when it’s happening.”
Sadly, Stephanopoulos didn’t offer the obvious response, which may have gone something like this: “OK, but the president and countless leading Republicans insisted that President Biden was the head of what they dubbed ‘the Biden Crime family’ and insisted his business dealings were corrupt, and indeed that his corruption merited impeachment. So how is being ‘transparent’ about similar corruption a defense?”
Now, I should be clear that I do think the Biden family’s business dealings were corrupt, whether or not laws were broken. Others disagree. I also think Trump’s business dealings appear to be worse in many ways than even what Biden was alleged to have done. But none of that is relevant. The standard set by Trump and Republicans is the relevant political standard, and by the deputy attorney general’s own account, the Trump administration is doing “exactly the same thing,” just more openly.
Since when is being more transparent about wrongdoing a defense? Try telling a cop or judge, “Yes, I robbed that bank. I’ve been completely transparent about that. So, what’s the big deal?”
This is just a small example of the broader dysfunction in the way we talk about politics.
Americans have a special hatred for hypocrisy. I think it goes back to the founding era. As Alexis de Tocqueville observed in “Democracy In America,” the old world had a different way of dealing with the moral shortcomings of leaders. Rank had its privileges. Nobles, never mind kings, were entitled to behave in ways that were forbidden to the little people.
In America, titles of nobility were banned in the Constitution and in our democratic culture. In a society built on notions of equality (the obvious exceptions of Black people, women, Native Americans notwithstanding) no one has access to special carve-outs or exemptions as to what is right and wrong. Claiming them, particularly in secret, feels like a betrayal against the whole idea of equality.
The problem in the modern era is that elites — of all ideological stripes — have violated that bargain. The result isn’t that we’ve abandoned any notion of right and wrong. Instead, by elevating hypocrisy to the greatest of sins, we end up weaponizing the principles, using them as a cudgel against the other side but not against our own.
Pick an issue: violent rhetoric by politicians, sexual misconduct, corruption and so on. With every revelation, almost immediately the debate becomes a riot of whataboutism. Team A says that Team B has no right to criticize because they did the same thing. Team B points out that Team A has switched positions. Everyone has a point. And everyone is missing the point.
Sure, hypocrisy is a moral failing, and partisan inconsistency is an intellectual one. But neither changes the objective facts. This is something you’re supposed to learn as a child: It doesn’t matter what everyone else is doing or saying, wrong is wrong. It’s also something lawyers like Mr. Blanche are supposed to know. Telling a judge that the hypocrisy of the prosecutor — or your client’s transparency — means your client did nothing wrong would earn you nothing but a laugh.
Jonah Goldberg is editor-in-chief of The Dispatch and the host of The Remnant podcast. His Twitter handle is @JonahDispatch.