In the run up to the 2022 election, FiveThirtyEight tracked what every single Republican nominee for House, Senate, governor, secretary of state and attorney general said about the legitimacy of the 2020 election. Thirty-five percent fully rejected Biden’s win and another 10 percent cast doubt on it. In this installment of the FiveThirtyEight Politics podcast, Galen Druke speaks with reporter Kaleigh Rogers about how candidates who denied the legitimacy of the 2020 election did in the midterms.
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Veterans from past wars and those returning from ongoing wars will need the country’s continued support.
Special Courts Helps Veterans Stay out of Jail – but Staffing Losses at VA and Cuts to Government Programs Are Threatening Their Work
Jun 03, 2026
Memorial Day is an apt time to reflect on the long-term consequences of war. Among them are substance use, mental health problems, homelessness and jail time for those who served in the military.
About 8% of all Americans in prisons or jails are veterans, according to the Council on Criminal Justice, a nonpartisan think tank. Veterans end up incarcerated largely because of substance use and mental health disorders, both of which also contribute to homelessness.
For more than 15 years, one tool for helping veterans break out of addiction has been Veterans Treatment Courts. These programs help veterans accused or convicted of crimes address the challenges driving their involvement in the criminal legal system.
Veterans Treatment Courts require a dedicated clinician and need to provide access to counseling, housing support and other social services to meet veterans’ needs. For this, they must have funding from the government. As a legal scholar studying the use of criminal law to aid veterans, my research shows that these programs, which exist in every state except Connecticut and Vermont, can be very effective. But they only work when they have the staffing and the resources to support veterans’ complex needs.
However, since 2025, massive staffing losses at the Department of Veteran Affairs as well as cuts to publicly funded healthcare such as Medicaid and Medicare, which are widely used by veterans, are making it harder for veterans to access healthcare.
What are Veterans Treatment Courts?
Veterans Treatment Courts are a subset of the drug treatment courts that were created by judges and criminal legal reformers beginning in 1988. These courts are an alternative to jail for people arrested or convicted for crimes that may be related to substance use disorders.
The idea was to allow courts to address the root causes of criminal behavior rather than simply punish people who committed crimes. Specialized treatment courts were soon developed to provide support for specific issues, such as mental health, or to groups accused of specific crimes, such as sex work.
- YouTube youtu.be / Veterans treatment courts aim to help people address the underlying issues that lead them to commit crimes.
In 2008, a judge in Buffalo recognized that veterans in his drug treatment court would benefit from support from other veterans and the comprehensive services from the VA. So he launched a distinct program just for veterans that soon received national media attention. Veterans Treatment Courts now operate in over 745 courthouses.
Eligibility varies across courts, but typically requires that the person have served in the military and that the crime they committed is not considered so serious that it deserves incarceration. While these programs are funded through a variety of sources, such as local and state governments, the federal government offers tens of millions of dollars every year for local courthouses to set up Veterans Treatment Courts.
Veterans Treatment Courts have a variety of requirements for participants. Once admitted to the program, participants must attend a hearing where they talk to the judge about how they are doing. They must also take drug tests and attend therapy appointments. They may also have to show that they have stable housing and employment and that they have performed community service or engaged in other activities that indicate they are connected to their communities and therefore at lower risk for substance use or criminal behavior.
If participants meet program requirements, they graduate. Graduation usually means some sort of legal benefit, such as dropped charges and fines or the termination of probation.
Resources are key to success
Advocates suggest that Veterans Treatment Courts are more effective than jail or prison in preventing people from committing new crimes, and that treatment courts in general cost less than incarceration. But studies on whether they help veterans more than alternatives such as drug treatment courts or a regular criminal court have been inconclusive.
My research shows that treatment courts, in general, are most effective if they have dedicated staff and access to services to address substance use as well as housing insecurity. That level of support is exactly what the VA provides.
Veterans with VA benefits not only receive outpatient and inpatient substance use treatment, but they are able to access federally funded education and housing support unavailable to most U.S. citizens. Even Veterans Treatment Court participants who are ineligible for VA healthcare benefit from the unique levels of public support and state-funded programs for veterans in the U.S.
All this gives Veterans Treatment Courts the resources to help their participants more than other treatment courts or regular criminal courts can.
There’s a strong connection between veteran homelessness and incarceration. Spencer Platt/Getty Images News
A program under threat
Recognizing the connection between veteran homelessness and incarceration, the federal government has put millions of dollars into the VA to help veterans in the criminal legal system. Congress annually authorizes tens of millions of dollars to support VA clinicians working in Veterans Treatment Courts. In January 2026, Congress even created a new center dedicated to this goal.
However, despite this support, cuts to healthcare that is delivered by VA providers, as well as to publicly funded healthcare such as Medicaid and Medicare, present numerous challenges for Veterans Treatment Courts. Tens of thousands of VA employees have left the agency since President Donald Trump took office. This has lead to staffing shortages that undermine care for all veterans.
Staff stability is especially important for these programs’ viability and success. My research shows that funding cuts lead to high turnover and low morale. When the Department of Health and Human Services sent a notice canceling US$2 billion worth of funding in January 2026, treatment courts were scrambling to figure out how they could staff their programs. Though this money was restored, the cancellation showed treatment court staff that their work could end without warning.
Given that the country’s criminal legal system is already overburdened, enabling Veterans Treatment Courts to do their vital work does more than help veterans. In my view, this program also models how comprehensive social services can help people struggling with substance use disorders, mental health problems, housing insecurity and other challenges.
As people recover from past wars and return from ongoing conflicts, they will need the country’s continued investment to reintegrate and thrive.
Special Courts Helps Veterans Stay out of Jail – but Staffing Losses at VA and Cuts to Government Programs Are Threatening Their Work was originally published by The Conversation and is republished with permission.
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One year after leaving the U.S. Navy, a former Lieutenant Commander examines growing threats to military independence, democratic institutions, veterans' rights, and constitutional accountability under the Trump administration.
Tetra Images/Getty Images
The Military Needs You To Help Defend It
Jun 02, 2026
Exactly one year ago today, I resigned my commission as a Lieutenant Commander in the United States Navy. For fourteen years, I had voluntarily accepted the standard bargain of military service that included signing away a substantial portion of my First Amendment rights. I reclaimed them just in time.
Upon entering civilian life with a decade of active-duty observations, I started writing more. Over the past twelve months, I contributed over twenty op-eds to The Fulcrum (in addition to being published by VoteVets, Slate, and The New York Times). The vast majority of my pieces have touched on national security or the military-connected community. Turns out, I have a lot to say. Also, there’s been no shortage of material.
We are currently observing a hostile takeover of the American armed forces. The Trump regime is deliberately engineering the military apparatus to enforce unquestioning obedience to the executive branch, attempting to transform the ranks into what I call a “brute squad of religiously motivated loyalists.” Concurrently, there is reason to believe Trump’s war in Iran is being extended simply to manipulate the markets and create a windfall of self-enrichment for the President and his friends, fundamentally compromising the integrity of military leadership. To accomplish these goals, the administration is actively working to suppress internal dissent and external oversight.
The scope of this effort is broad and alarming. President Trump has bypassed traditional Constitutional checks by committing service members to an ill-defined and illegal war of indefinite length with Iran, all while systematically weakening veteran services. Meanwhile, internal changes at the Pentagon include: the purging of women and people of color from leadership ranks, the restriction of independent press access, the gutting of civilian harm mitigation programs, the manipulation of casualty data, and the indoctrination of white Christian nationalist ideologies.
Perhaps most ominous is Defense Secretary Hegseth’s attacks on the Judge Advocate General (JAG) Corps, or the military’s cadre of lawyers. He just announced a sweeping review of the military justice and legal system, intending to ensure “maximum lethality” rather than “tepid legality.” Given that legality is being framed as an obstacle, this is a highly precarious situation for the force, to say the least. Not every military officer gets a law degree in her free time. Putting the onus on the average service member in a fast-moving battlespace to decipher complex constitutional boundaries or evaluate lawfulness is an immense burden.
Evidently, Trump wants to disempower service members from questioning what is unlawful. In the past year, he tried to convince a Grand Jury to indict several veteran lawmakers after they posted a 90-second video reminding servicemembers of their legal obligation to refuse such orders. Trump called the video “SEDITIOUS BEHAVIOR AT THE HIGHEST LEVEL,” branded the lawmakers “traitors,” demanded they be “ARRESTED AND PUT ON TRIAL,” and called their actions “punishable by DEATH!” When the President is threatening sitting Congressmen executions for simply restating the law, what 18-year-old kid is prepared to actually challenge an order? A leader anticipating illegal activity may hope that the question is rhetorical. Fear and intimidation help secure compliance.
Even I, as a relatively anonymous veteran, have been advised countless times this past year, in response to my advocacy, to “be safe.” There is a pervasive, palpable anxiety that public criticism of the current administration–especially of its military policy–carries real personal danger. I recognize both the privilege and the danger that come with using my voice as a veteran to advocate for those still serving. And though I do not claim to represent the views of all servicemembers, nor will the entirety of the force agree with my analyses, my inbox has been filled with messages over the past year from active-duty personnel offering quiet thank yous.
Trump and Hegseth do not represent the views of all service members either. There are plenty of folks serving who wish they could quit, which might be why the number of military personnel inquiring about conscientious objection has risen by 1,000% since the start of the Iran war. Many joined for the promise of stability and upward mobility, and now they are stuck in an organization run by a draft dodger who “finds the notion of military service difficult to understand, and the idea of volunteering to serve especially incomprehensible” and keeps putting off making a deal with Iran, claiming he could fight forever, flippantly suggesting there will likely be more deaths while referring to fallen Americans as ‘losers’ and ‘suckers’. I will keep fighting for them, and for this republic.
Veteran voices are obviously critical to these conversations, but Trump and Hegseth are actively seeking to stifle them. As dozens of retired high-ranking military leaders warned in an amicus brief submitted by the Vet Voice Foundation, it could easily become “unclear what constitutional protection would remain for veterans wishing to express public disagreement with a present Administration…” We need backup. Unfortunately, a profound civilian-military divide has allowed the public to often overlook the structural vulnerabilities of the force. I empathize with those who have kept the military at arm’s length out of anti-war sentiment or otherwise, but we cannot afford to abandon the actual human beings within it now. Leaving vulnerable service members to navigate a lawless command structure alone may allow the military to be turned into a weapon against our own democracy.
An understanding between civilians and veterans could go a long way in strengthening the forces of reform anyway. Take healthcare reform or student debt cancellation. Because our volunteer military relies heavily on the “poverty draft,” where access to higher education, comprehensive medical care, and basic financial security is leveraged as a recruitment tool, robust civilian social safety nets would take away the best carrots the armed forces have to dangle. As a result, we cannot meaningfully discuss these domestic social policies without simultaneously analyzing how our military model relies on these structural inequities. When we talk about almost any issue facing this country, the state of the military-industrial complex is relevant.
Ultimately, we cannot separate the fate of the troops from the fate of our own domestic battles. If we let those who swore an oath to support the Constitution fall, what will be left? Let’s not find out.
If you are a veteran, you possess a unique credibility on these issues, and I hope you join me in leveraging it. But if you are a civilian, I hope you recognize that the subversion of the military threatens the architecture of our democracy and join us too. We could use your help.
There is a new call of duty now, and we must answer. Our voices will be louder together.
Julie Roland was a Naval Officer for ten years, deploying to both the South China Sea and the Persian Gulf as a helicopter pilot before separating in June 2025 as a Lieutenant Commander. She has a law degree from the University of San Diego, a Master of Laws from Columbia University, and is a member of the Truman National Security Project.
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Supporters of President Donald Trump, February 09, 2024 in Harrisburg, Pennsylvania.
(Photo by Spencer Platt/Getty Images)
Can Coalitions Built on Opposition Still Govern?
Jun 02, 2026
Political parties are supposed to do two things at once: win elections and govern. Those are not the same skill.
Winning elections requires assembling coalitions large enough to secure power. Governing requires maintaining enough internal agreement to make decisions, negotiate trade-offs, allocate resources, and sustain policy direction once power is achieved.
American politics reveals the tension between those two functions.
The first essay in this series described how political coalitions can weaken long before political institutions visibly destabilize. Parties may remain electorally competitive even as the alliances inside them become more internally strained and socially divided, and less capable of producing coherent governance.
One reason is that opposition itself has become one of the strongest forces sustaining political coalitions.
For much of American history, political coalitions were organized primarily around governing agendas: industrial growth, labor rights, anti-communism, tax policy, civil rights, or the role of federal power. Internal disagreements existed, sometimes intensely, but coalitions remained viable because their factions still shared enough governing priorities to stay together.
Coalitions can be reshaped underneath stable-looking institutions. The forces driving that change vary across eras. Today, opposition politics has become one of the strongest. In 1971, two months before being nominated to the Supreme Court, Lewis Powell wrote a confidential memorandum for the U.S. Chamber of Commerce arguing that American business needed to organize itself politically with the same discipline and long horizon that its critics had brought to academia, courts, and media. The memo helped catalyze a wave of institution-building in think tanks, legal advocacy, and political operations whose effects became visible across the following decades, from the Reagan realignment through the Gingrich revolution and the Tea Party movement. That a sitting Supreme Court nominee would write such a document remains a striking moment in American political history, regardless of one's view of its merits.
I watched part of what followed. The Republican administration that established the Environmental Protection Agency and signed the National Environmental Policy Act in 1970 had treated environmental regulation as a bipartisan concern. By the early 1980s, running water-pollution enforcement contracts for that same agency, I was watching the posture reverse. Economic-impact tests gained weight against health and environmental findings, and political appointees arrived with industry ties earlier administrations would have treated as conflicts.
That kind of reshaping took time, and the Powell memo did not cause it on its own. A parallel institutional buildup, organized around different priorities, eventually reshaped the other party as well. The two buildups are not perfectly symmetric — the Powell-era institutional architecture has a more continuous documented history than its counterparts on the left, and the contemporary record of governing failures is correspondingly skewed. The result, on both sides, was political coalitions whose internal coherence increasingly depended on shared opposition to the other side rather than shared governing priorities.
That shift changes how political coalitions maintain cohesion. Opposition politics lowers the amount of internal agreement required to sustain a coalition electorally. Parties can remain unified so long as resisting the opposing side remains the dominant shared priority. Governing requires something different. Coalitions must establish priorities, sustain compromises, and make trade-offs among factions whose interests diverge once governing decisions carry real consequences.
The result is a growing gap between electoral cohesion and governing coherence.
Both parties have demonstrated this pattern in recent years, in mirror image. In 2017, Republicans held the House, the Senate, and the presidency after campaigning for seven years on repealing the Affordable Care Act. They could not pass a replacement. The factions that had united against the law could not agree on what should replace it once governing required them to choose.
Four years later, Democrats held unified control and campaigned on a Build Back Better agenda whose broader social-spending elements collapsed inside their own coalition. A narrower piece survived as the Inflation Reduction Act. The factions held together to win the election. They could not hold together to legislate the full agenda.
Those failures do not necessarily prevent parties from winning the next election. Opposition politics can sustain electoral cohesion even as governing continuity weakens.
That dynamic shapes how government functions. Congress struggles to sustain durable bipartisan governing agreements on long-term issues. Executive authority expands as legislative compromise weakens. Elections reward coalition breadth. Governing requires coalition discipline. Administrations rely on executive action because stable legislative coalitions capable of sustaining long-term policy settlements become harder to assemble and maintain.
Donald Trump did not create these pressures, but his rise accelerated many of them. His political success demonstrated how powerfully opposition politics and anti-establishment sentiment could reorganize coalition behavior inside one of America's two major parties. Opposition to Trump simultaneously became a major unifying force inside the Democratic coalition, helping hold together groups whose internal disagreements became more visible once governing responsibilities returned.
The problem emerges when political coalitions can still win elections but no longer sustain durable governing agreement across administrations.
A political system can produce winning coalitions and failing governments at the same time. That is increasingly what American politics looks like.
The next essay turns to what coalition fragility costs when grids, infrastructure, and defense planning all require horizons longer than any single administration.
Edward Saltzberg is the Executive Director of the Security and Sustainability Forum and writes The Stability Brief.Keep ReadingShow less

A critique of Steven Rosenbaum's The Future of Truth and the irony of AI-generated errors in a book warning about AI, truth, trust, and democratic responsibility.
Andriy Onufriyenko / Getty Images
On Truth, Shame, and the Abuse of AI
Jun 02, 2026
A democracy is only as robust and vibrant as the citizens who sustain it. Self-government depends upon people willing to deliberate honestly, reason carefully, and exercise judgment responsibly. With the emergence of AI, this obligation becomes even more consequential because these powerful systems can either deepen human agency or quietly erode it. They can either help citizens think more clearly and participate more meaningfully, or they can encourage the outsourcing of judgment itself and the slow substitution of synthetic plausibility for human responsibility.
Imagine, then, publishing a book warning humanity about the epistemological collapse supposedly ushered in by artificial intelligence. Imagine assembling endorsements from solemn guardians of the humanities, critics of automation, custodians of truth, defenders of interpretation against probabilistic sludge. Imagine presenting yourself as a kind of intellectual fire marshal standing before a burning building, yelling that people must immediately stop playing with matches.
And then imagine your own book turns out to contain fabricated citations, hallucinated references, invented quotations, and synthetic confabulations produced by the very systems whose dangers you claim to expose.
Well, astonishingly, that is precisely what happened with the recently published book The Future of Truth by Steven Rosenbaum.
And how did Mr. Rosenbaum respond when readers discovered that the book warning us about the epistemological dangers of AI had itself smuggled in fabricated citations and synthetic quotations into its pages? With mortification? With embarrassment? With contrition? With the ordinary human shame that arises when one is caught violating one’s own stated principles so completely and so publicly?
Of course not.
Instead, we were treated to a spectacle of post-hoc rationalization masquerading as profundity. The collapse of the book’s credibility was repackaged as further evidence of the book’s importance! The failure itself became the thesis, as it were. As one reads along, one almost expects him to announce that the inaccuracies only proved how urgently we must read his inaccurate book about inaccuracies. And then, defying the ridiculous, that was precisely what Rosenbaum did: He said, “These A.I. errors do not, in fact, diminish the larger questions that the book raises about truth, trust and A.I.”
Well, of course, they do not diminish them, but they do diminish the book and its author spectacularly.
The book is about truth and trust, and yet the author himself failed at the elementary practice of verification. How can one deliver a sermon on epistemic rigor while outsourcing one’s footnotes to a stochastic autocomplete engine and then declare oneself vindicated when people notice?
Even worse is this peculiar modern move to hide behind a machine as though it were an unruly intern who slipped something embarrassing into the manuscript. “It’s the AI that made the errors, not me” is rapidly becoming the twenty-first-century version of “mistakes were made.”
No, Mr. Rosenbaum: You made the errors.
You used the tool. You signed the contract. You accepted the authority of authorship. You placed your human name on the cover rather than listing the author as “Large Language Model, Version Unknown.”
The entire point of being human is that we are not merely output systems. We are capable of judgment, deliberation, doubt, scruple — that’s our human bailiwick. We can stop, we can verify, we can say: Hey, this sentence sounds plausible, but I should check whether it corresponds to reality before presenting it to thousands of readers. That is our slice of the divided labor pie.
And then, when we fail, we, humans, are supposed to be capable of something machines are not: Contrition. And actual contrition. Not sleek, too-clever- (or maybe too-stupid-) by-half post-hoc rationalization disguised as profundity; nor should we be converting our embarrassment into an advertisement for the very thesis whose collapse occasioned the embarrassment; nor should we indulge ourselves in insulting the intelligence of our readers by pretending that a humiliating failure of scholarship somehow deepens our work’s philosophical importance.
There is something oddly revealing in all this. Many critics of AI speak as though the machine itself were the central moral actor, as though silicon were secretly plotting the liquidation of truth. But the more immediate spectacle is much pettier and much more human: Vanity amplified by convenience, and obviously a whole lot of good old laziness. People lusting for authority of thought but putting in the actual work of thought. Wanting the appearance of mastery while quietly delegating the difficult work of verification to a predictive engine, and then blaming it for not doing a perfect job.
In any case, at the very least, the irony is exquisite. A book warning us about epistemological collapse becomes itself an artifact of epistemological collapse. A denunciation of synthetic authority turns out to depend upon synthetic authority. The critic becomes the demonstration. The cautionary tale writes itself. All of which is amusing enough, as these things go, but when the matter concerns the quality of democratic participation, we need to take these questions far more seriously than this.
Ahmed Bouzid is the co-founder of The True Representation Movement.
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