A history of the first African American White House—and of what came next
In the waning days of President Barack Obama’s administration, he and his wife, Michelle, hosted a farewell party, the full import of which no one could then grasp. It was late October, Friday the 21st, and the president had spent many of the previous weeks, as he would spend the two subsequent weeks, campaigning for the Democratic presidential nominee, Hillary Clinton. Things were looking up. Polls in the crucial states of Virginia and Pennsylvania showed Clinton with solid advantages. The formidable GOP strongholds of Georgia and Texas were said to be under threat. The moment seemed to buoy Obama. He had been light on his feet in these last few weeks, cracking jokes at the expense of Republican opponents and laughing off hecklers. At a rally in Orlando on October 28, he greeted a student who would be introducing him by dancing toward her and then noting that the song playing over the loudspeakers—the Gap Band’s “Outstanding”—was older than she was.
More clues that the Facebook founder is eyeing a run for office
There’s a long-running theory that Mark Zuckerberg has presidential aspirations. It makes sense to wonder. After all, if the civically engaged and ambitious billionaire leader of the most powerful media company on the planet wanted to take on a new challenge, why not try running a country? It’s not like he has many other opportunities for a promotion.
But only in recent weeks has a Zuckerberg run for the American presidency started to seem like a legitimate possibility. First there was his personal challenge for 2017: Zuckerberg’s aiming to visit and meet with people in all 50 states by the end of the year.
And not just that, but he framed the exercise in a way that sounds, well, political: “Going into this challenge, it seems we are at a turning point in history,” he wrote in a Facebook post. “For decades, technology and globalization have made us more productive and connected. This has created many benefits, but for a lot of people it has also made life more challenging. This has contributed to a greater sense of division than I have felt in my lifetime. We need to find a way to change the game so it works for everyone.”
Unlike past presidents-elect, Donald Trump hasn’t expanded his support since the election. His belligerent attitude toward his critics may be one reason why.
Donald Trump always seems most grounded in chaos. He thrives on contradicting his aides, surprising his allies, disparaging his opponents. He revels in the tempest.
This combustible approach has touched a chord with his base of primarily non-college-educated and non-urban white voters who have felt eclipsed both economically and culturally and slighted by the nation’s leadership. But he will arrive at his inaugural Friday facing more resistance in public opinion than any newly elected president in the history of polling, and with lingering clouds over his legitimacy—symbolized by the surprisingly widespread House Democratic boycott of the ceremony. Trump’s agenda is polarizing enough, but the intensity of that opposition appears rooted even more in his relentless belligerence toward any critical voice or institution.
And the bright side of rising pessimism about the American Dream
One of the hallmarks of America’s supposed exceptionalism is its citizens’ extraordinary optimism. A 2014 study found that Americans were more likely to describe their day as "particularly good" than any rich European country. Nothing reflects this sunniness like the enduring parable of the American Dream, the idea that, only in America, even the poorest can transform their fortunes through hard work.
But there is a dark and deeply ironic element to American dreaminess. Americans are “too optimistic” about the odds of poor citizens getting richer “relative to actual mobility in the U.S.,” according to a new paper by the economists Alberto Alesina, Stefanie Stantcheva, and Edoardo Teso. As a result, Americans are less likely to support large federal anti-poverty programs—programs that would actually help the American Dream become reality for more people—since they believe that they are already living among throngs of Horatio Algers.
The president-elect’s filings with the Federal Election Commission offer the best (and only) glimpse into what he owns and owes. Here they are for the first time in a searchable, easy-to-read format.
One hallmark of President-elect Donald Trump’s behavior is a tension between brazen exhibitionism and near-total opacity. Trump is highly outspoken, especially on Twitter, and has been in the public eye for decades; his supporters and surrogates frequently maintain that these make him transparent. However, when it comes to any information that could help hold Trump accountable, such as the details of his policy positions, he has not been forthcoming, a tendency which poses an enormous threat to a system of governance built on the idea of checks and balances.
Among the most notable manifestations of this opacity is that, during the 2016 presidential campaign, Donald Trump broke decades of tradition by refusing to release his tax returns. Although he initially said he would release them, as the campaign wore on, he and his staff began proffering a number of explanations for why he didn’t. Though none of those excuses held up under scrutiny, Trump still hasn’t released the returns, which means that, though he is vastly wealthier than any of his predecessors, the American public knows significantly less about his finances than it has about any president’s since Richard Nixon. Given that Trump is entering the presidency with a business empire of unprecedented scale—and potential conflicts of interest of unprecedented complexity—the dearth of information significantly restricts the public’s understanding of how his financial entanglements may influence his decision-making in office.
For one thing, she’s never attended or taught at a public school.
Betsy DeVos is likely to be confirmed as the next secretary of education. There’s nothing unusual about the Senate supporting a president-elect’s choice to lead the U.S. Department of Education. But DeVos is a more controversial choice than nominees in recent memory.
At his hearing, the outgoing education secretary, John King, faced friendly questioning from the senators on the education committee in charge of moving nominations forward, including from the Republican chairman, Lamar Alexander. King’s predecessor, Arne Duncan, was confirmed in the Senate by a voice vote. It’s not just Democrats who have had easy confirmations, either. Both of George W. Bush’s education secretaries—Rod Paige and Margaret Spellings—were also confirmed by voice vote and received praise during their hearings from Republicans and Democrats alike.
Republicans love to blame the Environmental Protection Agency for some of the country’s economic woes. Is that a fair assertion?
It was in the early days of Ronald Reagan’s campaign for president that America first started frequently hearing the term “job-killing regulations” in response to an increasing number of environmental laws. Reagan criticized the Carter administration for doing a terrible job with the economy, and said these failures were related to Carter’s “continuing devotion to job-killing regulation.” Reagan used this phrase a lot on the campaign trail, according to Cary Coglianese, a professor at the University of Pennsylvania and the editor of Does Regulation Kill Jobs?
Within a few years, other Republicans had picked up the term. As Coglianese writes, California’s governor Pete Wilson in 1991 blamed environmental regulation for imposing “job-killing burdens” on the state’s economy, for instance, and Oklahoma Senator Don Nickles called Clinton-era rules “the most intrusive, expensive and job-killing regulation handed down.” Michele Bachman, the congresswoman from Minnesota, in 2011 said she wanted to rename the Environmental Protection Agency “the job-killing organization of America” and Mitt Romney lamented that “Day by day, job-killing regulation by job-killing regulation, bureaucrat by bureaucrat, this president is crushing the dream.”
“Trump is absolutely trying to attack our democratic institutions and to make the country more authoritarian,” one Democratic lawmaker warns.
A steadily growing number of congressional Democrats are refusing to attend Donald Trump’s inauguration, sending a message of resistance at the outset of Trump’s presidency. It’s less clear, however, what exactly that message is, and whether it will do the Democratic Party much good as it attempts to find its way in the Trump era.
The high-profile protest was galvanized by the president-elect’s rebuke of civil rights icon John Lewis as “all talk” and no action” over the weekend after the Georgia congressman said he does not view Trump “as a legitimate president” and did not plan to attend Trump’s inauguration. At the latest count, more than 60 Democrats in Congress have now announced they will not show up. Painting a bleak picture of what the country now faces, some Democrats warn that the incoming Trump administration could fundamentally erode American democracy.
The president-elect filled out his Cabinet on Thursday by nominating former Georgia Governor Sonny Perdue for agriculture secretary.
Updated on January 19, 2017
A day before his inauguration, President-elect Donald Trump has filled out his Cabinet.
Trump on Thursday morning announced the nomination of former Georgia Governor Sonny Perdue as secretary of agriculture, completing a search that took the duration of his presidential transition.
Perdue, who served as governor from 2003 to 2011, grew up on a farm in Georgia and earned a doctorate in veterinary medicine. “Sonny Perdue is going to accomplish great things as Secretary of Agriculture,” Trump said in a statement. “From growing up on a farm to being governor of a big agriculture state, he has spent his whole life understanding and solving the challenges our farmers face, and he is going to deliver big results for all Americans who earn their living off the land.”
For generations, American presidents have vowed to use their power to spread freedom around the globe. But the president-elect is set to break with that precedent.
Inaugural addresses are, in part, catechisms. The new president signals that he’ll take the country in a new direction. But he casts that new direction as consistent with old and cherished national principles, from which the country has strayed, and to which it must return.
Since Woodrow Wilson, and certainly Franklin Roosevelt, part of the catechism has been America’s mission to defend freedom around the world. For close to a century, incoming presidents have called American power a blessing from God, which the United States must use to assist the cause of liberty in other lands.
But this Friday, Trump may not say that. No president-elect in modern American history has talked less about America’s obligations to the rest of humanity. When it comes to foreign policy, Trump has two primary rhetorical modes. The first is transactional: America is being ripped off by other nations, and must cut better deals. The second is civilizational: America is part of the Judeo-Christian West, which is threatened by “radical Islam.” The former defines the world as a struggle between America and its trading partners. The latter defines the world as a struggle between civilizations. Neither mode suggests that promoting freedom for peoples of all nationalities, races, and religions serves America’s interest. Both are fundamentally zero-sum.
A short film from the Harris Tweed Authority looks at how the sought-after Scottish cloth is woven by hand.
A video essay on the future of urbanization
From a moral standpoint, it makes the world worse.