Carey King of the Energy Institute of the University of Texas at Austin discusses how the last 80 years of American history have shown a connection between energy consumption, economic output, and political polarization.
Listen here: https://link.chtbl.com/QQIv_DZe
An illustration of diverse people around a heart with the design of the American flag.
Jason Mayo always felt a calling to serve, but his journey was anything but predictable. Drawn to service in the Marine Corps, due to its high bar for excellence, he dreamed of standing guard at U.S. embassies in countries like France and Germany, where he could leverage his proficiency in foreign languages.
As so often happens, life had other plans for Mayo, and a serious car accident led him to leave the military far earlier than he would have planned. It also left him with an unfulfilled sense of duty.
"I felt like I hadn't completed at least a small obligation to serve my country in some way," he recalled.
They often say Marines are cut from a different cloth, and this proved true yet again. With the armed services in his rearview mirror, Mayo went on to pursue a political science degree at the University of Illinois at Chicago, followed by a Master’s in Business for Veterans from the University of Southern Connecticut. He took his talents to the world of advertising and media, working with marquee brands like Men’s Health, USA Today, and The Wall Street Journal.
Still, he felt a draw to the veteran community. He was eager to engage with veterans and partner with others who served but was unsure of how his short time in service would be received.
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That mindset changed once he discovered +More Perfect Union (MPU)—an organization dedicated to bridging the political and social divides—through his connections in the veteran community.
“I saw the divisiveness happening everywhere, and I felt compelled to do something about it,” Mayo explained.
Today, Mayo has risen to a different type of rank. He founded the Los Angeles Brickyard for +MPU and acts as a beacon for other veterans in his community who are drawn to a new kind of service. Through community-building events and one-on-one conversations alike, Mayo uses his experience as a creative leader to transcend ideological divides and connect with peers in a more meaningful way.
One of the most impactful efforts on Mayo’s lengthy resume was a community screening of “Join or Die”, a documentary centered on the widespread decline of civic engagement. The event was a call to action for locals to join forces, not just in the case of a crisis but as an ongoing commitment to community-building and regional pride.
Tragically, a crisis did strike Los Angeles and its surrounding communities in the weeks that followed: a devastating series of wildfires destroyed thousands of homes, local businesses, and beloved community spaces.
When Mayo first surveyed the destruction, he faced an overwhelming question: where to begin? The community he cherished lay in ruins, with homes and buildings reduced to smoldering remains. It was during this moment of uncertainty that he discovered something remarkable.
As a member of The Ronald Reagan American Legion Post 283 (where President Reagan himself had once been a member), Mayo was astonished to find the building standing untouched amid widespread devastation—one of the few structures spared by the inferno. This preservation wasn't just fortunate; it was symbolic.
With former Post Commander Jim Cragg, Mayo designed a plan to turn Post 283 into a community hub—a central gathering place where residents could find both practical help and emotional support. With the help of the Post's leadership, Post 283 became more than a building, it became the heart of the community's recovery efforts—a place to gather, grieve, and gradually turn toward rebuilding. The building soon housed representatives from FEMA, insurance companies, the Red Cross, and faith organizations, creating a one-stop resource center for a community that was desperately seeking answers and direction.
In the coming weeks and months, this work will transition to long-term rebuilding efforts that help restore a sense of peace and togetherness to the area—ranging from flag plantings to community dinners and holiday celebrations.
“My goal is to help people engage with their communities in meaningful ways. It’s not just about talk. It’s about action,” he said.
Inspired by his volunteer work, Mayo launched Kymatholi, a public relations and marketing agency dedicated to bolstering connections within American communities. The firm primarily works with brands that embody the company’s mission to promote civic engagement and social cohesion.
“I only want to work with organizations that help make America stronger, whether through local economies, social fabric, or civic participation,” he said.
Mayo’s work in the military gave him a foundation—teaching him leadership, discipline, and most importantly, adaptability. It’s these skills that Mayo now leans on as he works to strengthen communities, connect with like-minded veterans, and rally people of different political backgrounds for a common purpose.
“The military teaches you how to work with people who don’t look like you, who don’t think like you, but who are all working toward the same goal,” he said. “That’s exactly the mindset we need to bring to our communities today.”
Whether he’s rebuilding communities after deadly wildfires or moderating a conversation in an ideologically polarized city, Mayo continues to serve his country—this time, without a uniform.
“I’m not in the military anymore, but I’m still serving,” he said. “I’m glad I get to put those skills to work.”
Jake Harriman is the CEO and co-founder of +More Perfect Union.
A microphone.
On March 12, French artists, DJs, and musicians united to fight the threat of the far-right government in France that they felt was a threat to democracy in their country.
More than 1,200 artists, DJs, and promoters from the French music industry came together to galvanize “the world of the night” into political action and to protest the possibility of the first far-right French government since the Second World War.
As well as performing, many of the artists gave voice to why they felt compelled to perform.
Lucas Langlais—founder of record label Unfair Music and a member of the Front Électronique (FE)—stated, “Our culture has remained silent for too long. We can no longer stand idly by without acting to defend who we are and the people we love.”
“The electronic scene has always been a refuge for diversity, whether it be sexual orientation, ethnic origin, or individual beliefs. We believe that music and dance are powerful means to resist intolerance and celebrate freedom of expression.”
The artists came together to ask fellow citizens to combat the “dangerous wave of racism and homophobia in response to the rise of the far-right in France.”
So, where are American artists today in America?
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Where is Luke Combs, who so eloquently performed “Love Can Build a Bridge” in 2023 at the Grammys?
Given the divided times we live in and the heated rhetoric in American politics, an inclusive and healing message is needed now more than ever. The lyrics that Luke Combs sang should be heeded by all Americans and all politicians today:
Love can build a bridge
Between your heart and mine
Love can build a bridge
Don't you think it's time?
Don't you think it's time?
I would whisper love so loudly
Every heart could understand
That love and only love
Can join the tribes of man
I would give my heart's desire
So that you might see
The first step is to realize
That it all begins with you and me
And where is Taylor Swift today? In the fall of 2024, she stepped into the fray, endorsing Kamala Harris for President, and announced she would be voting for Harris because she believes “we can accomplish so much more in this country if we are led by calm and not chaos.”
There is a long history in America of artists stepping forward when the principles of our nation are challenged, but where are the artists, songwriters, and performers in America today?
They are strangely silent.
If today’s stars come together like they did in France last week, they can build a movement for Democracy; A movement that is not Democrat or Republican but one that dismisses old definitions of right and left and instead focuses on values, and blossoms into an optimistic vision for the future of America. As “We Are the World” did in the 1980s, today's artists can inspire citizens to become active participants in healing and change.
Imagine the passion and positive impact that celebrities could inspire in this time of social media and internet-driven divisiveness. Imagine the power of music and celebrities coming together, demonstrating unity for democracy.
I urge artists from across the political spectrum—right, left, and center—and across all genres, representing the diversity of music and people in America, to raise their voices for democracy.
This is not about being a Democrat, Republican, or Independent. It is about using the power of music to speak to the principles of Democracy—a democracy that builds on the pluralistic values that define our nation.
Music, theater, poetry, and all forms of pop culture have amazing healing and connecting powers. We know that when we join people together, their energy for good can be amplified to help power change. Music, in particular, can play an important role in celebrating what unites us—rather than dividing us—and in activating millions of Americans in a movement.
Our pop culture stars can make a difference. And now is the time to do so.
David Nevins is co-publisher of The Fulcrum and co-founder and board chairman of the Bridge Alliance Education Fund.
People reading in a religious setting.
In a moment defined by fracture and division, a surprising development has emerged in America's religious landscape. The decades-long decline of Christianity is leveling off. According to new research from the Pew Research Center, the share of Americans identifying as Christian has stabilized at around 62%—a dramatic shift from previous trends that saw consistent year-over-year drops in religious affiliation. This "pause" in religious decline offers a unique opportunity to examine whether faith communities might help heal our nation's deep sociopolitical wounds.
The timing of this latest phenomenon could not be more apropos. As America grapples with unprecedented polarization and the fraying of civic bonds, religious institutions—despite their internal struggles—may be uniquely positioned to foster dialogue, understanding, and responsiveness across divides.
Research shows that spirituality remains resilient even as traditional religious participation wanes. A striking 86% of Americans believe that people have souls beyond their physical bodies, while 79% believe in something spiritual beyond the natural world. The emergence of a shared spiritual foundation, transcending political and denominational boundaries, offers a common grounding for meaningful dialogue. More intriguingly, younger Americans, while less traditionally religious, maintain strong spiritual sensibilities. Among adults aged 18-24, 82% believe in the existence of the soul—nearly matching their grandparents' generation. This spiritual continuity amid institutional change hints at possibilities for intergenerational bridge-building that could help ease sociopolitical tensions.
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Religious communities remain among the few spaces where Americans of different political persuasions interact regularly. While political segregation increasingly defines our neighborhoods, workplaces, and social circles, houses of worship continue to bring together people across ideological lines—particularly in racially diverse congregations, which have grown significantly in
recent years. However, leveraging these opportunities requires religious institutions to embrace shifts in their approach to civic engagement:
Additional strategies might include:
Stabilizing America's religious landscape is crucial for reimagining faith's role in democracy. Despite their imperfections, religious institutions remain repositories of social capital and ethical wisdom that our fractured society desperately needs.
By embracing their potential as guides or facilitators in navigating contemporary realities, they can help weave our tattered civic fabric together. Such work will require humility and creativity from spiritual guides and facilitators of faith. We must remain open to skepticism while exchanging in good faith among all parties. When many traditional sources of social cohesion have eroded, the persistent spiritual longings revealed in this research—and the institutional networks that have historically nurtured them—may offer essential resources for rebuilding American democracy.
No one faithful institution or individual is charged with reversing secularization or restoring religious dominance. Instead, at best, such institutions and their disciples ought to channel spiritual energy toward healing our divisions and respecting plurality. In this light, the pause in religious decline is an invitation to reimagine how faith can serve the common good in an increasingly diverse society.
Rev. Dr. F. Willis Johnson is a spiritual entrepreneur, author, and scholar-practitioner whose leadership and strategies around social and racial justice issues are nationally recognized and applied.
The Department of Government Efficiency, DOGE, led by an unelected billionaire and supported by the Donald Trump administration, continues its bulldozer approach to our federal government. As we careen forward, an essential food for thought is an awareness of the global and historical perspectives that underscore how our current leaders' strategies align with a playbook for the final chapter of previous global powers.
When we think of global dominance, we often think of military strength and the size of a superpower’s budget. What we think less of is the importance of perception or the significance of the cultural aspects of power. The USAID spreads the impression of a peaceful and protective United States, dispersing resources and building a global community with the US at the helm. President Kennedy began the USAID in 1961 with an Executive order. Research shows that USAID has continuously had bipartisan support and a tremendous impact, makes up less than 1 percent of our budget, and is a major player within the United Nations Developmental Programme.
Military and financial power alone does not make a global power. To preserve a respectable image, we need soft power. We need to be viewed as morally good, akin to what public intellectual Slavoj Žižek calls global capitalism with a human face. The United States has leaned into this strategy. We are a military giant, and still, people worldwide view us as democratic and politically stable.
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Sociologists have long shown the importance of this balancing act. When antagonistic forces are the foundation of a system, something must entice those with less power to cooperate or submit rather than revolt. Workers who receive benefits are less likely to strike. Those living in proximity to the toxic outputs of oil refineries are less likely to critique the company when it also invests in healthcare and education for the community.
The United States grew into its role as a world power politically and economically, and, like the British, Dutch, and Spanish empires before it, may be destined to lose this status eventually. In The Long Twentieth Century, the late scholar Giovanni Arrighi analyzed empires and how they transition. Their decline follows a pattern. One part of this order is that an empire’s ambitions exceed its tangible resources, and over-extension predates its decline. Trump’s colonial tendencies, for example, when he states he wants to take over Greenland, The Panama Canal, and Gaza, echo exactly the overextending vibe of world leaders pre-collapse.
We are the emperor who quickly drops clothing. It’s inefficient to waste food, medical trials, people, or allies. As a superpower, appearing secure, functional, and stable is valuable. The United States is seeking expansion, and at the same time, its leaders are dismantling its systems internally. And these things matter. We don’t live in a peaceful world, and global leaders vie for power. There are those who would appreciate the internally initiated demise of the United States.
To be sure, the waning of US global dominance is likely inevitable. The contradictions of Trump and Musk’s decisions to eliminate USAID inefficiently and dismantle the federal workforce while simultaneously making large power grabs, such as seeking additional territories and mineral rights, could speed up this descent.
There may be nothing that can make a superpower become self-reflective enough to be sustainable. It is unlikely that the Trump administration will reinstate robust foreign aid and federal workers nor invest in sustainability-oriented policies such as the Green New Deal. But we live in an era where we are increasingly aware of Adrienne Marie Brown’s emergent strategy. What if our leaders could turn towards more evolved skills and sustainable actions, such as prioritizing the care of people and our planet overfeeding a no-boundary endless treadmill of greed chasing? Perhaps the asymmetry inherent to empires is not meant to last, but perhaps humanity can. We need leaders who understand that global sustainability, and thus solidarity, are the best renewable resources.
The global political economy is not a high-stakes card game. It is the context and backbone of our only shared reality. And it’s time for its parameters to evolve from a dog-eat-dog mentality to a regenerative one. We need leaders who value non-alternative facts and our future, who believe in diversity, equity, and inclusion, and who trust our scientists. We need a government that can imagine and work towards a better world where education is broadly funded, federal employees keep their jobs, we appropriately tax our wealth hoarders, and at our core, we strategize for liberation for all rather than domination for some.
Our world's systems may not be a card game, but it would behoove our leaders to understand not only the art, but also the science and history of their dealings and the systemic risks of bad faith plays.
Megan Thiele Strong is a Sociology professor at San José State University, a Public Voices Fellow at The OpEd Project, and a member of the Scholars Strategy Network.
