Katie Fahey joins The Great Battlefield podcast to talk about founding Voters Not Politicians, which successfully banned partisan gerrymandering in Michigan, and running The People, which helps others to do related work in other states using ballot initiatives.
The media loves to tell you your government isn't working, even when it is. Don't let anyone tell you 2025 was an unproductive year for Congress. [Edit: To clarify, I don't mean the government is working for you.]
At 1,976 pages of new law enacted since President Trump took office, including an increase of the national debt limit by $4 trillion, any journalist telling you not much happened in Congress this year is sleeping on the job.
Using rules that exempt certain bills from the filibuster, Congress passed (and President Trump signed into law) the 330-page "reconciliation" bill which included tax breaks adding $500 billion to the deficit; new limits on Medicaid, SNAP, federal student loads, and green energy; and $171 billion for immigration enforcement, making ICE the largest law enforcement agency in the United States. Also exempt from the filibuster was the "rescissions" bill which slashed most funding for foreign aid (saving about $800 million and potentially causing 1 million deaths world-wide and a geopolitical vacuum that China is ready to fill) and public broadcasting (saving about $100 million).
Those were perhaps the most controversial bills ever enacted, with senators voting yes on the reconciliation bill representing just 44% of the country's population. I don't think that's ever happened before and really captures the political climate. (For comparison, the Affordable Care Act, a.k.a. Obamacare, passed the Senate with the yea votes representing 62% of the country’s population.)
Earlier this month, Congress passed the 1,259-page National Defense Authorization Act, a yearly bill that sets military and related policies. This year, the NDAA incorporated 40 other bills on a range of topics, including police first aid kits and reuniting Korean American families with family members in North Korea. It also included a provision intended to force the Secretary of Defense to provide more information on the military strikes on Venezuelan civilian boats.
Using a rarely-used rule to override the Speaker of the House, legislators passed the Epstein Files Transparency Act to force the Trump Administration to release Epstein files. It's incredibly significant any time the Speaker loses control over the floor since setting the floor schedule is the Speaker's most important job.
Congress also quashed numerous Biden Administration regulations.
And the Senate confirmed 341 Trump nominees, which is a fairly fast pace.
196 bills were enacted. The mainstream media will tell you it's only 61 because they don't look at what's inside omnibus bills. Fewer bills are getting a vote and presidential signature, but they are getting longer and longer and often bundle a number of other bills. (That's a trend that started decades ago.)
The 1,976 pages Trump signed into law is on the low side: More than Reagan (1,528) and GW Bush (1,024) did by this point in their terms, less than the first Bush (2,518), Clinton (2,705), Obama (3,478), Trump in his first term (2,236), and Biden (2,450).
But more isn't better, and not every page of legislation enacted is actually important.
The reverse is also true. The just two pages cutting foreign aid has enormous domestic and geopolitical consequences.
It's also true that there are things that Congress hasn't done. Like not being in session. House Republicans took their chamber out of session for some 40 days vowing to not negotiate with Democrats to end October's government shutdown, only to come back into session to approve a bill negotiated with Democrats in the Senate.
They could have used that time to figure out agency funding levels for the remainder of the fiscal year after January. Instead, another government shutdown may be around the corner. (Congress is supposed to have figured this out before the fiscal year began on October 1.)
Nor has Congress done much for government efficiency, allowing Trump to fabricate cuts and fire Inspectors General, the abuse watchdogs at federal agencies. Republicans also hope to downsize Congress's abuse investigators at the Government Accountability Office. These cuts would cost taxpayers billions of dollars by allowing waste, fraud, and abuse to go unchecked. Or more likely, abuse would be checked just when it advances the President's interests.
Congress has also been silent on Trump's tariffs, despite the power to tariff being reserved to Congress. Congress could also address the Trump Administration's illegal deployment of National Guard troops in Illinois, or the swirling conflicts of interest in the Trump family.
Congress's productive 2025 (And don't let anyone tell you otherwise) was originally published by GovTrack and is republished with permission.
AI-powered wellness tools promise care at work, but raise serious questions about consent, surveillance, and employee autonomy.
Across the U.S. and globally, employers—including corporations, healthcare systems, universities, and nonprofits—are increasing investment in worker well-being. The global corporate wellness market reached $53.5 billion in sales in 2024, with North America leading adoption. Corporate wellness programs now use AI to monitor stress, track burnout risk, or recommend personalized interventions.
Vendors offering AI-enabled well-being platforms, chatbots, and stress-tracking tools are rapidly expanding. Chatbots such as Woebot and Wysa are increasingly integrated into workplace wellness programs.
Recently, Indian health platform Tata 1mg partnered with payroll fintech OneBanc to integrate AI-driven corporate healthcare directly into payroll systems, embedding wellness analytics into routine employment infrastructure rather than treating mental-health support as a separate benefit. Similar deployments are emerging across sectors.
While no public data reliably quantify how many workers use AI wellness tools, market growth and vendor proliferation suggest these systems already reach millions of workers. The market for chatbot-based mental-health apps alone is estimated at $2.1 billion in 2025, projected to grow to $7.5 billion by 2034.
Observers report that AI can potentially enhance workplace wellness by analyzing patterns of employee fatigue, scheduling micro-breaks, and flagging early signs of overload. Tools such as Virtuosis AI can analyze voice and speech patterns during meetings to detect worker stress and emotional strain.
On the surface, these technologies promise care, prevention, and support.
Imagine your supervisor asking, “Would you like to try this new AI tool that helps monitor stress and well-being? Completely optional, of course.”
The offer sounds supportive, even generous. But if you are like most employees, you do not truly feel free to decline. Consent offered in the presence of managerial power is never just consent—it is a performance, often a tacit obligation. And as AI well-being tools seep deeper into workplaces, this illusion of choice becomes even more fragile.
The risks are no longer hypothetical: Amazon has faced public criticism over wellness-framed, productivity-linked workplace monitoring, raising concerns about how well-being rhetoric can justify expanding surveillance.
At the center of this tension is the ideal of informed consent, which for decades has been the ethical backbone of data collection. If people are told what data is gathered, how it will be used, and what risks it carries, then their agreement is considered meaningful. But this model fails when applied to AI-driven well-being tools.
First, informed consent assumes a single and static moment of agreement, while AI systems operate continuously. A worker may click “yes” once, but the system collects behavioral and physiological signals throughout the day—none of which were fully foreseeable when the worker agreed. It seems unfair that consent is a one-time act, yet the data collection continues indefinitely.
Second, the information that workers receive during consent is often inadequate, vague, or too complex. Privacy notices promise that data will be “aggregated,” “anonymized,” or used to “improve engagement”—phrases that obscure the reality that AI systems generate inferences about mood, stress, or disengagement. Even when disclosures are technically correct, they are too complex for workers to meaningfully understand. Workers end up consenting amidst power inequities and socio-organizational complexities.
And then there is consent fatigue. Workers face constant prompts—policy updates, cookie banners, new app permissions. Eventually, one might click “yes” simply to continue working. Consent would rather become a reflex or convenience rather than a choice.
To be sure, workplaces have made meaningful progress in supporting well-being, and AI can genuinely help when implemented thoughtfully.
Many organizations have expanded mental health benefits and adopted flexible or hybrid work models shown to reduce stress and improve work–life balance. Likewise, empirical research suggests AI can indirectly enhance well-being by improving task optimization and workplace safety.
Such advances in workplace AI tools are critical. Yet even with expanded structural support and promising technologies, the mindset around work and worker expectations has not kept pace—shaping how well-being tools are experienced and often making workers feel compelled to say yes, even when framed as “optional.”
Even perfect consent notices cannot overcome workplace power. Workers know that managers control evaluations, promotions, and workloads. Declining a “voluntary” well-being tool can feel risky, even if the consequences are unspoken. Consent becomes a reflection of workplace politics rather than an expression of personal autonomy.
Drawing from feminist theories of sexual consent, the FRIES model of affirmative consent-- Freely given, Reversible, Informed, Enthusiastic, and Specific—provides a sharp lens for evaluating workplace use of AI.
Consent is not freely given when declining feels risky. It is not reversible when withdrawing later invites scrutiny. It is not informed when AI inference is opaque or evolving. It is rarely enthusiastic; many workers say yes out of self-protection. And it is almost never specific; opting into a single function often authorizes far more data collection than workers realize.
This is where the FRIES model offers clarity, echoing the feminist, sex-positive shift from a “no means no” standard to a “yes means yes” understanding of consent. Consent is not freely given when declining feels unsafe.
It is not reversible when opting out later raises questions. It is not informed when AI inference is opaque. It is rarely enthusiastic; many say yes to avoid negative assumptions. And it is almost never specific; agreeing to one feature often enables a broader system of hidden data tracking.
In our own research on workplace well-being technologies, workers stressed that meaningful consent requires changes not only to the technology but to the policies and organizational practices around it—underscoring that workplace consent is a structural problem—something that requires socio-technical solutions, not just better disclosure screens.
If employers want meaningful consent, they must move beyond checkbox compliance and create conditions where affirmative and continuous consent is truly possible. Participation must be genuinely voluntary.
Opting out must have no social or professional penalty—neither explicit nor implicit. Data practices need to be transparent and auditable. Most importantly, well-being must be grounded in organizational culture—not in the hope that an algorithm can fix structural problems or unrealistic expectations.
The real challenge is not perfecting AI that claims to care for workers but building workplaces where care is already embedded—where consent is real, autonomy is respected, and technology supports people.
Dr. Koustuv Saha is an Assistant Professor of Computer Science at the University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign’s (UIUC) Siebel School of Computing and Data Science and is a Public Voices Fellow of The OpEd Project.
Harvard students joined in a rally protesting the Supreme Courts ruling against affirmative action in 2023.
I have an identical twin sister. Although our faces can unlock each other’s iPhones, even the two of us are not exactly the same. If identical twins can differ, wouldn’t most people be different too? Why is diversity considered a bad word?
Like me, my twin sister is in computing, yet we are unique in many ways. She works in industry, while I am in academia. She’s allergic to guinea pigs, while I had pet guinea pigs (yep, that’s how she found out). Even our voices aren’t the same. As a kid, I was definitely the chattier one, while she loved taking walks together in silence (which, of course, drove me crazy).
Just last month, universities have been changing the names of committees to remove the word “diversity,” magazines for women and Black students are being shut down, nonprofits providing scholarships for Hispanic students are being sued, and companies are eliminating their Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion (DEI) programs and stopping annual diversity reports.
In 2025, in the United States, “diversity” has been flagged as a word to avoid. But is it really a bad word? People, by nature, vary. We grow up in a range of countries, states, and cities. We may be different ages or genders and come from many cultures, religions, racial and ethnic backgrounds, and socioeconomic situations. Our brains don’t all work the same, as some of us experience ADHD, autism, or other forms of neurodiversity. According to the World Health Organization, more than one billion people worldwide have disabilities. Many have experienced trauma, illness, cancer, or are supporting relatives who have.
Our experiences are all unique and form us into who we are.
Growing up as a female computer scientist, I often stood out in classes and professional environments. Once, at a robotics competition, a well-known female professor from another university greeted me by name. I was shocked (and honored!). I asked my fellow students how she knew who I was, and one of them said something like, “Look around you,” and I realized I was the only female in my group. I guess it wasn’t too hard to learn my name.
People are diverse in many ways.
As an associate professor in a school of information sciences, one of the things I love most is the variety of academic backgrounds and expertise around me. I learn something new every day from my colleagues’ work, while also contributing my own perspectives to our conversations.
When it comes to my research on accessibility, my students and I discuss these differences, and I’ve been struggling to come to terms with why diversity has become a word we are no longer using.
Researchers are removing the word “diversity” from grants, 35 major companies rolled back their DEI programs, and the federal government is calling DEI programs illegal. Target, which had once been an advocate for diversity, has been removing the word from its reports. Many are boycotting Target due to its reversal of DEI policies, which affected its Black Friday sales.
While some DEI initiatives have fallen short, thoughtfully refining them would have been a better approach than abandoning diversity altogether.
Having diversity is a positive. Research shows that diverse teams can be more effective. Diversity can lead to better problem-solving and outcomes that benefit a wider range of people.
Standing up for diversity is not going to be easy in today’s times. It will take courage to focus on the strength of our multiple perspectives, backgrounds, and experiences instead of hiding them. By noticing and valuing our differences, we can create spaces where everyone’s contributions are recognized and welcome.
If even identical twins aren’t exactly identical, why would we expect a community, workplace, or classroom to be?
I hope we take the time to appreciate the diverse experiences of our friends, colleagues, and students, and consider how we can turn diversity into a positive for everyone.
America's tariff experiment, now nearly a year old, is proving more painful than its architects anticipated. What began as a bold stroke to shield domestic industries and force concessions from trading partners has instead delivered a slow-burning rise in prices, complicating the Federal Reserve's battle against inflation. As the policy grinds on, economists warn that the real damage lies ahead, with consumers and businesses absorbing costs that erode purchasing power and economic momentum. This is not the quick victory promised but a protracted burden that risks entrenching higher prices just as the economy seeks stability.
The tariffs, rolled out in phases since early March 2025, have jacked up the average import duty from 2 percent to around 17 percent. Imported goods prices have climbed 4 percent since then, outpacing the 2 percent rise in domestic equivalents. Items like coffee, which the United States cannot produce at scale, have seen the sharpest hikes, alongside products from heavily penalized countries such as China. Retailers and importers, far from passing all costs abroad as hoped, have shouldered much of the load initially, limiting immediate sticker shock. Yet daily pricing data from major chains reveal a creeping pass-through: imported goods up 5 percent overall, domestic up 2.5 percent. Cautious sellers absorb some hit to avoid losing market share, but this restraint is fading as tariffs are embedded in supply chains.
Academic tracking of over 350,000 products underscores the pattern. Prices for tariff-hit imports have risen, though below the full duty rates, indicating partial absorption by foreign exporters and U.S. firms. This near-complete pass-through to U.S. importers - who then relay it to buyers - is creating a tangible drag on households already strained by post-pandemic finances. By August, tariffs accounted for 0.5 percentage points of headline personal consumption expenditures inflation and 0.4 points of core, explaining nearly 11 percent of the year's headline rise. Small and medium-sized businesses, surveyed through mid-year, report doubling their effective tariff payments from 6.5 percent in January to 11.4 percent by July, with expectations of enduring 25 percent rates fueling plans for broader price adjustments.
This domestic sting contrasts sharply with the White House narrative. Officials insist foreign producers will eat the costs to cling to America's vast market, preserving U.S. leverage without pain at home. Reality tells a different story. Total tariff costs could hit $1.2 trillion this year, with consumers footing $592 billion in higher prices. Goldman Sachs pegs the consumer share at 55 percent now, potentially climbing to 70 percent in 2026 as inventories deplete and contracts renegotiate.
The Federal Reserve finds itself caught in the crossfire. Tariffs complicate its dual mandate, injecting upside risks into inflation just as rate cuts aim to spur growth. Projections now see 2025 core personal consumption expenditures inflation at 3.1 percent, up 0.3 points from pre-tariff forecasts, with headline at 2.7 percent. Policymakers have paused easing, with one fewer cut eyed for 2026, as tariff-driven pressures on durables like appliances and electronics add 0.33 percentage points to core goods prices alone. A back-of-the-envelope calculation suggests a 0.75 percent bump in core consumer prices from direct import effects, excluding knock-on effects from input costs. Investment goods face steeper price increases: a 25 percent across-the-board tariff could lift their prices by 9.5 percent, compared with 2.2 percent for consumer items, curbing business spending and amplifying slowdowns.
Global ripples compound the trouble. Retaliatory measures from Canada, Mexico, and the European Union have trimmed China's growth forecast to 4.4 percent, dragging U.S. exports and supply chains. The dollar's 7 percent slide since December offers scant buffer, as it further raises import bills. Early dynamics mimic a demand shock, with pullbacks in spending temporarily easing inflation, but models predict a rebound: unemployment ticks up initially, then activity recovers amid stickier prices. For consumers, this means less variety on shelves, from apparel to electronics, as retailers prune options rather than absorb endless costs.
The irony runs deep. Tariffs were sold as a tool to revive manufacturing, yet they now fuel the very inflation they were meant to counter. To address this, we must move beyond rhetoric and toward concrete civic solutions. We need to mandate a bimonthly, non-partisan audit of the tariff’s costs to the American public. This audit should include an automatic "trigger" for Congressional review if the data shows the "sting" on consumers - measured by price pass-through and impact on the Fed's inflation mandate - has become too high.
Such reform would ensure that protectionism remains a calculated strategy rather than a blind burden. As 2026 looms, with pass-through accelerating, the policy's flaws stand exposed. Reversing course would be admitting defeat; doubling down invites a recession. Ultimately, these safeguards are necessary because, as the current data proves, protectionism's bill always arrives at the domestic door, paid in full by those least able to afford it.
Imran Khalid is a physician, geostrategic analyst, and freelance writer.
