In just 10 days over the summer of 1854, 500 people died of cholera in the Soho neighborhood of London. The city’s population had more than doubled to 2.3 million people in the first half of the 1800s, and its sewage system could not keep up. But the streams of human waste flowing into the street and seeping into the water supply were considered unconnected to the cholera crisis. The prevailing theory of the day was that bad air — miasma — caused illness.

The English physician John Snow thought differently. Five years before the outbreak he had suggested that the diarrheal disease was actually caused by a waterborne infection rather than miasma. He soon had a chance to test his theory, mapping the location of cholera-related deaths in Soho. Snow realized that the victims used one specific water pump on Broad Street, and he persuaded city officials to remove the pump’s handle to prevent anyone else from using it. With the source eliminated, the outbreak, which had already passed its peak, ended in days. 

Though it took years for Snow’s theory to achieve widespread acceptance, his approach is central to modern epidemiology. Investigating the source of outbreaks can prevent new cases, but it also gives us a better understanding of diseases and helps manage public fear. Even when infections have stopped, outbreak investigations are useful to develop strategies for preventing — and, failing that, responding to — future outbreaks. 

Two recent outbreaks have demonstrated the necessity — and the challenges — of such investigations, almost two centuries after Snow’s pioneering work. The first was the hantavirus outbreak that dominated headlines last month. Then, on May 17, the World Health Organization (WHO) declared a public health emergency of international concern, the highest level of global health alert, in response to an outbreak of the deadly hemorrhagic disease Ebola in the Democratic Republic of the Congo (DRC), which, as of June 2, had killed 62 people, with 363 confirmed cases. It’s the 17th Ebola outbreak in the DRC and one of the largest on record. It has spread to neighboring Uganda, where, as of June 4, there are 16 confirmed cases, one confirmed death, and one probable case and likely death. 

The first confirmed case, a healthcare worker in Bunia, DRC, died on April 24, but the outbreak may have been spreading undetected since as early as January. Investigators haven’t identified patient zero — the index case — and still don’t know how this outbreak began. Abdou Sebushishe, a doctor working with the International Medical Corps in Goma, DRC, told CBS News that up to 20 percent of current patients are themselves healthcare workers. He estimated that it may be more than six months before the outbreak could be controlled, given that the disease is outpacing the current response.

Part of the challenge is that the current outbreak is caused by the Bundibugyo strain of Ebola, which is relatively uncommon and has a genome about 30 percent different from the Ebola viruses that usually spark outbreaks. Testing for more common variants didn’t pick up the Bundibugyo virus right away, and ongoing conflict in the DRC contributed to the delay and continues to make contact tracing difficult. Unlike other strains, the Bundibugyo virus has no approved therapeutics or vaccines.  

In the past, researchers have had some success identifying the index case of Ebola outbreaks. Investigators managed to identify the first patient of the 2014-2016 West Africa Ebola epidemic — the largest and deadliest in history, with more than 15,000 confirmed cases and 11,000 deaths — as a toddler in the west African nation of Guinea. What’s harder to definitively determine is how the boy, who died in December 2013 before the outbreak had been identified, contracted it. It’s possible that he came into contact with an Ebola-infected fruit bat or its droppings while playing in a hollow tree, but scientists can’t say for sure.

Investigating outbreak origins is inherently fraught and can lead to the international fingerpointing that characterized much of the Covid-19 pandemic. But it’s not primarily about assigning blame. Instead, knowing where and how outbreaks began informs how we respond to them, halt transmission, communicate to the public, and prevent them from happening again. It can identify high-risk regions and influence how public health officials monitor a disease. As the recent Ebola and hantavirus outbreaks demonstrate, however, that effort is often complicated by a host of factors, and the resulting uncertainty makes it that much harder to manage public health concerns efficiently and well. 

The curious case of Legionnaires’ disease in New York City

Our epidemiological tools have come a long way since John Snow used hand-drawn maps to identify the source of the Soho cholera outbreak. The value of these new tools lies in the information they generate — which is crucial to fighting outbreaks. 

Take the case of New York City’s biggest — and deadliest — outbreak of Legionnaires’ disease (LD), a bacterial infection that causes a severe pneumonia and has a fatality rate of 10 percent. By the time public health investigators detected it in the summer of 2015, dozens had already been hospitalized. It was the second-largest LD outbreak in US history, infecting 138 people and killing 16. 

The initial epidemiologic investigation started with contact tracing to find the source of the disease, but the results didn’t suggest any shared exposures. Cooling towers, which provide water for air conditioning systems in the form of an inhalable mist, had been involved in previous LD outbreaks, but officials didn’t know how many cooling towers there were in the city or how well-maintained they were. 

Investigators ultimately located and tested 55 cooling towers in the South Bronx, where cases were clustered, for Legionella. They identified the source: a single cooling tower atop the Opera House Hotel. The hotel disinfected the tower, and New York’s City Council passed new regulations requiring every building in the city with a cooling tower to register it with the health department, test it every 90 days, and remediate it if Legionella was found. 

Within a year, the health department inspected almost 80 percent of the city’s towers — detection and disinfection that would have never been conducted otherwise. No large LD outbreaks emerged — until inspections declined in 2025. “Regulations do not enforce themselves,” Jay Varma, a physician and epidemiologist who served as incident manager for the 2015 New York outbreak, wrote last year in Healthbeat. “The Covid pandemic has sparked a strong backlash against government authority, and austerity budgets are now starving public health agencies. Infections may be inevitable, but outbreaks are a choice.”

Cholera and LD are waterborne, but Ebola and hantavirus, which first cross over to humans from animal reservoirs, present a different challenge. 

The challenge of hantavirus and Ebola

“The end of the world, the beginning of everything” is the motto of Ushuaia, Argentina, the southernmost city on the planet, where tourists flock to watch birds and embark on cruise ships. It’s the main gateway to Antarctica, making up 90 percent of all cruise departures to the continent. 

It’s here that a Dutch couple may have contracted the Andes virus, the only strain of hantavirus known to spread from person to person, before sparking an outbreak on the MV Hondius. The Argentinian government’s prevailing theory is that the couple got infected while birdwatching at a landfill in Ushuaia before the cruise, coming into contact with the rodents that carry the Andes strain. 

Well, maybe not. 

“The current theory of a couple birdwatching in southern Argentina may not be plausible, because the [long-tailed pygmy] rice rat that is responsible for spreading the Andes strain of the virus is usually found in northern Argentina or Chile, and we know the birdwatching at the landfill occurred in the southern part of Argentina,” Omer Awan, a physician and public health expert, told me over email. There have been no recorded cases of hantavirus in Tierra del Fuego province, where Ushuaia is located, before. 

“Understanding the origins of the outbreak will be helpful in guiding interventions like rodent control, isolation protocols, and…how the rare Andes strain of Hantavirus is transmitted,” Awan said. “[And] identifying the source of the [2026] ebola outbreak can influence response strategy and how public health officials monitor the virus.”

Delayed detection and human movement — especially for illnesses like hantavirus and Ebola that can incubate over the course of weeks — make tracing the source of an outbreak difficult, even in the best of circumstances. We still don’t know the original source of the first Ebola outbreak in 1976, which occurred in two simultaneous waves. Debates still rage over whether Covid-19 emerged naturally through zoonotic spillover — the virus jumping from an animal host to humans — or if it potentially escaped from a lab in an accident. We know that the hantavirus and Ebola outbreaks are natural in origin, but there are still international efforts to shift the “blame” from Argentina to neighboring Chile, especially with economic interests on the line.

Such spillover events have only become more likely as humans destroy ecosystems and infringe on animal habitats. Climate change exacerbates existing infectious disease risk. “Because of our choices as a society, there’s a one-in-five chance that another pandemic will occur in the next decade that will kill at least 25 million people,” Neil Vora, the executive director of Preventing Pandemics at the Source coalition, wrote in Time Magazine. 

Determining the source of outbreaks is even more difficult — and politically perilous — in the post-Covid era. The US and Argentina have pulled out of WHO. Global health funding cuts, on the part of the US as well as other countries, have weakened our biosurveillance architecture and ability to effectively respond to infectious disease. 

Compared to Covid, the scale of the 2026 Bundibugyo and hantavirus outbreaks are small. It’s still proving hard to get answers. That’s going to be a serious problem whenever the next pandemic arrives — and it is a matter of when, not if. 

An evolving threat landscape

Although we face escalating spillover risks from habitat destruction and climate change, we can’t count on the next global infectious disease threat being naturally occurring in origin when it does come. 

“It’s very clear that artificial intelligence capabilities are advancing incredibly rapidly,” Jaime Yassif, senior advisor for global biological policy and programs at the Nuclear Threat Initiative (NTI), told me. “[That could] make it easier for novice actors to engineer pathogens that we [already] know about or for sophisticated actors to engineer novel pathogens that are more dangerous than what’s found in nature.”

If there is an outbreak of uncertain origin — where it’s unclear if it’s natural, accidental, or deliberate — we lack robust international mechanisms that can investigate the source and quickly arrive at a conclusion. That would make it harder to address the source proactively, whether that means stopping future natural spillover events, preventing lab accidents, or holding bad actors to account. 

Public health professionals would need to take additional precautions if there was a risk of a deliberate outbreak, as we saw with the 2001 anthrax attacks, where letters laced with Bacillus anthracis were sent in the mail, infecting 17 people and killing five. A naturally-occurring anthrax exposure would have required a different response, since a bioterrorism investigation has to contend with the additional challenge of determining criminal responsibility. 

And as we’ve seen with the debates around Covid-19 origins, suspicion that something was caused by human activity can be incredibly corrosive to international trust, making necessary geopolitical cooperation in the face of outbreaks significantly harder. 

NTI identified that preparedness gap and proposed a Joint Assessment Mechanism to identify the source of outbreaks of uncertain origin. It would be housed in the UN Secretary-General’s Mechanism for Investigation of Alleged Use of Chemical and Biological Weapons (UNSGM) in order to pull together different components of the UN system and bridge security and public health. 

That project (which I supported and advocated when I worked at NTI from 2022 to 2024) is currently on pause. “We still think it’s a vital gap and really important, but we just couldn’t get the political will to move it forward in the system, notwithstanding the significant support for it internationally in various quarters,” Yassif said.

We are simply unprepared domestically and internationally to prevent, detect, and respond to global infectious disease threats. Emerging infectious disease outbreaks threaten us all, and we are nowhere near where we should be in order to protect vulnerable populations and countries around the world. While the current Ebola and hantavirus outbreaks are very unlikely to become pandemics on the scale of Covid-19, they’re still dangerous and deadly. Unless we can determine where and how they began, we’ll be ill-equipped to stop them from recurring. And next time, things could be far worse.

Allen v. Milligan, an Alabama redistricting case that is now before the Supreme Court for the third time, is a face-palm, wrapped in a head-desk, wrapped in some of the most incompetent legislative draftsmanship that has ever been presented to the justices. If Alabama Republicans have any sense, they will fire all of their lawyers.

About a month ago, the Supreme Court decided Louisiana v. Callais, gutting the federal Voting Rights Act’s safeguards against legislative maps that lock voters of color out of power in the process. Callais effectively repealed a 1982 amendment to the VRA, which prohibited many state laws that have a negative impact of nonwhite voters, even if those laws were not drawn with racist intent.

After Callais, a plaintiff challenging a state’s legislative maps on racial grounds may only prevail “when the circumstances give rise to a strong inference that intentional discrimination occurred.”

As a practical matter, this is a very difficult bar for voting rights plaintiffs to overcome. Lawyers and judges are not mind readers. And state lawmakers normally aren’t foolish enough to state openly that they drew a particular map in a particular way because they wanted to maximize white power and minimize the voting power of nonwhite voters.

And yet, Alabama’s Republican-controlled legislature managed to enact congressional redistricting legislation that openly praises the European American character of much of the state.

Allen turns on congressional maps that the state enacted in a 2023 law, but which have never actually been used in an election. Much of the case turns on the law’s disparate treatment of two regions in the state: the Gulf Coast region of Alabama, and the state’s Black Belt.

While the Black Belt is actually named after the dark-colored soil in that region, it has a high African American population because many enslaved people were brought to the Black Belt prior to the Civil War. The Gulf Coast region, meanwhile, is predominantly white. As a lower court decision that struck down the 2023 maps explains, those maps keep “the Gulf Coast whole,” while simultaneously splitting the Black Belt in a way that shunts many of its Black voters into a majority-white district.

The mere fact that Alabama cracked up the Black Belt while keeping the Gulf Coast intact does not endanger its maps, at least under Callais. The decision is very favorable to gerrymandering, and permits states to draw maps that diminish Black representation so long as the state claims that it is doing so to dilute the votes of Democrats.

But here’s the rub: The 2023 law doesn’t just preserve the white-majority Gulf Coast region intact; it also praises the “shared culture” of that region which stems “from its French and Spanish colonial heritage.” France and Spain, of course, are European countries made up predominantly of white people.

The state legislature, in other words, didn’t just give the Gulf Coast more favorable treatment than it did the Black Belt. It explicitly referenced the Gulf Coast’s shared European culture when it did so. That sure gives rise to a strong inference that intentional discrimination occurred!

Will that be enough to persuade this Supreme Court to rule against Alabama’s maps? Who knows? The Court’s most recent gerrymandering decisions appear designed to permit states to draw whatever maps they want, without any federal judicial oversight whatsoever. And a decision in favor of Alabama’s 2023 maps would also benefit the Republican Party.

Six of the Supreme Court’s nine seats are held by Republicans.

But, even after Callais, one of the few things that states should not be allowed to do is draw maps for the explicit purpose of favoring European Americans, while simultaneously disfavoring African Americans. And yet Alabama’s maps may not be able to clear even this very low bar.

Friendship breakups are never easy, but few are as messy and expensive as the collapse of Elon Musk and Sam Altman’s once thriving tech bromance, which has — for now — reached a legal end.

On Monday, a jury ruled against Musk in his lawsuit against OpenAI, which contended that Altman and other executives “stole a charity” (as one of Musk’s lawyers put it) by turning much of what was once a nonprofit research lab into a corporate behemoth. (Disclosure: Vox Media is one of several publishers that have signed partnership agreements with OpenAI. Our reporting remains editorially independent.) For three weeks, lawyers on both sides deployed an increasingly unhinged body of evidence in an attempt to discredit both men and prove they’re untrustworthy and power-hungry. 

Musk claimed he was duped into donating roughly $38 million to OpenAI under false pretenses, and was suing for $150 billion in financial restitution alongside major changes to OpenAI’s leadership and governance structure. Judge Yvonne Gonzalez Rogers accepted the jury’s decision that Musk failed to bring his lawsuit within the three-year statute of limitations, given that OpenAI first added its for-profit arm in 2018. However, it’s possible that the evidence put forth at trial will still be enough to convince state regulators to revisit the agreements that allowed OpenAI to restructure into a for-profit enterprise to begin with.

Lawyers tell me that Musk will likely choose to appeal the ruling, meaning the catfight might not be over yet. But even beyond the outcome, the trial shone an often uncomfortable spotlight on the inner workings of Silicon Valley and the AI industry. Here are five major revelations from the trial.

OpenAI’s board members questioned Sam Altman’s honesty

Musk’s legal team sought to paint Altman as a deeply untrustworthy person, prone to lying to his co-founders, employees, and board members if it meant advancing his interests.

Multiple former OpenAI employees and board members testified as much in the courtroom. Altman’s “pattern of behavior related to his honesty and candor” led directly to his temporary ouster as CEO in 2023, said Helen Toner, a former board member, in a video deposition. He had a tendency of “saying one thing to one person and completely the opposite to another person,” Mira Murati, OpenAI’s former chief technology officer, testified. In one instance, she said, Altman explicitly lied to her about the safety review required to vet a new AI model.

Greg Brockman kept a diary — and he probably wishes he hadn’t

Some of the more salacious evidence entered into trial came from a personal diary kept by OpenAI president Greg Brockman, who chronicled his “stream of consciousness” as he weighed whether it would be “morally bankrupt” to pivot OpenAI into a for-profit enterprise.

“Can’t see us turning this into a for-profit without a very nasty fight,” he wrote in one 2017 entry. “It’d be wrong to steal the nonprofit from him,” meaning Musk, who co-founded OpenAI and provided most of its start-up funding. “He’s really not an idiot,” Brockman later wrote. “His story will correctly be that we weren’t honest with him in the end.”

Brockman was also candid about his personal ambitions; “It would be nice to be making the billions,” he wrote. He later received a stake in OpenAI now estimated to be worth about $30 billion.

Surprise, surprise: Elon Musk is difficult to collaborate with 

OpenAI built a bot in 2017 that was so advanced, it could beat top professional players at strategic multiplayer battle game Dota 2, a major milestone for the budding lab. “Time to make the next step for OpenAI. This is the triggering event,” Musk emailed Brockman. 

Musk gave Brockman and cofounder Ilya Sutskever new Tesla Model 3 cars, presumably to “butter us up,” Brockman testified. The Tesla CEO then summoned them to his self-described “haunted mansion” for discussions of a possible OpenAI for-profit arm, where whiskey was served by Musk’s then-girlfriend Amber Heard. 

At one point, Musk became so irate at his guests’ insistence that they share control of OpenAI — rather than cede absolute control to Musk — that “I actually thought he was going to hit me, physically attack me,” Brockman testified. In the following months, Musk repeatedly pitched having Tesla absorb OpenAI, Altman testified. And, in one “particularly hair-raising moment,” he mused that OpenAI should pass on to his children. 

Musk ultimately left OpenAI in 2018 to begin building his own competitor. During an all-hands meeting, Musk got into another tense verbal tussle with Josh Achiam, now OpenAI’s chief futurist, over the race to develop artificial general intelligence. “He snapped and called me a jackass,” Achiam testified. For Achiam’s valor, two OpenAI employees — including Dario Amodei, who later departed to form Anthropic — awarded him a small golden statue of a donkey’s rear end, inscribed with the message, “Never stop being a jackass for safety.”

Microsoft cozied up to OpenAI to avoid being left behind in the AI race

Musk first funded OpenAI because of another friendship breakup, this one with Google cofounder Larry Page, who Musk says mocked him at his own birthday party for preferring humans over computers. Microsoft — which is named in Musk’s lawsuit for aiding and abetting OpenAI’s abandonment of its nonprofit mission — later became OpenAI’s first major corporate investor in 2019, because it, too, wanted to compete with Google as the AI race heated up. 

“I don’t want to be IBM,” Microsoft CEO Satya Nadella wrote to executives, referring to that company’s decline in the personal computing race, according to emails revealed at trial. “It was becoming even more core and important that we had real agency at every layer of the stack,” Nadella testified.

That meant ingratiating itself in every corner of OpenAI’s world. Microsoft played a crucial role in bringing Altman back to power after the failed board coup in 2023, which Nadella referred to as “amateur city, as far as I was concerned.” In a text thread revealed at trial, Altman asked Microsoft executives to vet various members of OpenAI’s reconstituted board of directors, who now control both the for-profit company and the original nonprofit. 

By this summer, Microsoft will have invested over $100 billion in OpenAI, one of the company’s executives testified. The company was awarded a 27 percent stake in OpenAI last fall. 

Everybody wants to rule the world (of artificial general intelligence)

Microsoft. Musk. Altman. Brockman. Almost everyone who testified at trial pointed fingers at a different boogeyman whose motives were too impure and whose character was too corruptible, to be trusted with control of what all agreed would be an extremely consequential technology. By contrast, their own introspection mostly took a back seat to ambition.

“We don’t want to have a Terminator outcome,” Musk testified, to apparent eyerolls from Judge Gonzalez Rogers, who tried and sometimes failed to steer the trial away from discussions of AI’s existential risks. “If you have someone who is not trustworthy in charge of AI,” Musk said, “I think that’s a very big danger for the whole world.”

Over a decade ago, Musk came together with OpenAI’s cofounders to build a charity equipped to take on a different threat then poised to lead the AI race: Google, which had recently acquired Demis Hassabis’ DeepMind. Now, like Altman and Brockman, who testified that they resisted Musk’s dictatorial attempts to secure absolute control of artificial general intelligence, Musk portrayed himself as someone selfless and transparent enough to be put in charge. 

“It is ironic that your client, despite these risks, is creating a company that is in the exact space,” Gonzalez Rogers at one point told Musk’s lawyer, in reference to xAI, which has come under fire this year for facilitating the mass creation of nonconsensual deepfakes. “I suspect there are plenty of people who wouldn’t like to put the future of humanity in Mr. Musk’s hands.”

Update, May 18, 2026, 2 pm ET: This story has been updated to reflect the conclusion of the trial.

President Donald Trump has big plans for America’s 250th birthday celebration, which gets underway this month. Some are anodyne: a state fair on the National Mall, for example, and what will reportedly be a record-breaking fireworks display. 

Others, though, are focused a little bit more on Trump than America: There will also be a UFC cage match on the South Lawn of the White House (on the president’s birthday), and a planned “Freedom 250” concert has already morphed into a full-blown Trump rally. And the whole thing is being presided over by not one but two groups: America250, Congress’s decade-old initiative to celebrate the country, and Freedom 250, which is the Trump administration’s very own. 

So, should Americans still be excited about the big party? Today, Explained asked Semafor editor-in-chief Ben Smith, who explains how America’s bisesquicentennial party got so political. He also talks with Today, Explained co-host Noel King about the dueling groups behind the celebrations, how the Freedom 250 concert fell apart, and what else is planned for the anniversary.

Below is an excerpt of their conversation, edited for length and clarity. There’s much more in the full episode, so listen to Today, Explained wherever you get podcasts, including Apple Podcasts, Pandora, and Spotify.

What do you think President Trump is trying to say with this celebration?

I think President Trump is trying to celebrate America as he sees it, which is not totally separate from celebrating himself.

Do you believe that what President Trump is up to is justified?

Most Americans think it’s a good idea to celebrate big national anniversaries.

There’s a congressional body called the Semi-Sesquicentennial Commission. It’s been around for years, preparing to put up flags at football games, and have a ball drop in Times Square, and do cheerfully generic celebrations of America’s 250th anniversary. The Trump administration thought that was kind of sleepy and didn’t have the kind of flair for spectacle that Donald Trump likes. They wanted more glam, and more fireworks, and more cage matches on the White House lawn.

When I was talking to people at these two rival semi-sesquicentennial committees, they are mostly staffed by people who were trying hard, at least for a while, to get along and not have the 250th birthday of America descend into the partisan mayhem that every other thing in America descends into.

Are they competitive now? Are they still working together?

They’ve always been competitive and eyeing each other with a bit of mutual disdain. Because the Republicans control Congress, and because Trump basically controls the Republican Party, two-thirds of the money Congress allocated went to the White House branch, not to the congressional branch. 

The congressional bipartisan [committee] got $50 million to play with and raised a bunch of outside money, and so they were kind of grudgingly satisfied. In fact, there had been a plan to explore darker elements of America’s past, which, when Trump won, they dropped, because the White House doesn’t like doing that.

Much has been made of the concert series. Can you talk us through where that all began and where we are right now?

There was an idea that came out of the White House-led arm that I think is kind of a fun idea: a Great American State Fair, to have the spirit of state fairs — which are, in fact, genuinely delightful American institutions — on the Mall in Washington. And as part of that, there would be big concerts with beloved artists. 

Artists in general, most of them have learned lessons about staying away from politics. [And] Donald Trump is very unpopular right now, which I think has made it particularly hard for him to get any mainstream, popular artists to appear. So what they wound up with was a lineup of lesser artists of the ’90s and the early 2000s: C+C Music Factory: Young MC of the great hit “Bust A Move;” and Vanilla Ice. 

I’m a child of the ’80s. I would’ve enjoyed this, but it was kind of an embarrassing lineup to begin with. And then when Young MC realized that he had been, in his view, snookered into doing the pro-Trump version rather than the bipartisan version, he dropped out. 

Usually, when you book an artist for something like this, you don’t see this happen, because everybody signs the contract — they realize what they’re signing onto. But these guys are also sensitive to social media and, apparently, did not want any kind of association with the White House or Donald Trump. 

And so, only Vanilla Ice is left. 

What else is planned? There’s the UFC fight drawing a lot of attention. Any of the initial state fair elements preserved? Do we get a big Ferris wheel?

There will be carnival elements. I’m not sure if there’re going to be giant pigs and cows, but that’s always a fun state fair feature. But mostly, there’s just going to be Donald Trump. 

I mean, it’s the most classic cycle of American politics: Trump says, “I want to put on a big bipartisan spectacle,” and it leans a little more partisan than Democrats and these artists are comfortable with, and they drop out, and Trump says, “Well, fine. I’m just going to turn this into a hyper-partisan rally for myself.” Democrats say, “Well, you were always going to do that anyway.” And he says, “No, you forced me into it.” And it’s kind of worse than doing nothing in the end, if the goals were bringing Americans together to celebrate the birthday. 

I do think the White House detects an opportunity to accuse Democrats of not being patriotic enough and of selling out America’s birthday celebration. And I think some Democrats are mildly worried that the party will be somehow cast as unpatriotic. But as this thing continues to spiral, I think most Americans likely will just see it as the latest Washington hyper-partisan antics.

This could have been fun, let’s be honest.

I mean, it could still be fun. You don’t know until you go.

It could still be fun. Are you going to go?

If I can, yeah. I live up in New York, so I’ll have to make the trip down.

I’m already predicting — and I could be wrong — that the partisan nature of it will make it less fun than it could have been if we had all agreed to get along.

Maybe less fun for you, more fun for others. It’s actually one of the features of Trump rallies that I think his opponents miss is that they’re very fun for the people who go.

That’s a very good point. So I was going to ask whether Donald Trump actually cares about the people attending, and I think what I’m hearing you say is if they’re his supporters, yeah, he does care that they have a good time.

Yeah, I think he wants to throw a big party for his supporters and not for the “haters and losers.”

What do we know about the fireworks?

Trump loves spectacle. He’s talking about building a massive triumphal arch, although honestly, I’m not sure which triumph it intends to commemorate. If he’s going to have a firework show, it’ll be the biggest firework show in history. Hide your dogs.

This story appeared in The Logoff, a daily newsletter that helps you stay informed about the Trump administration without letting political news take over your life. Subscribe here.

Welcome to The Logoff: President Donald Trump’s Ultimate Fighting Championship takeover at the White House is coming up fast — and it’s exactly as weird as you’d expect. 

What’s going on? This week, a new construction project has been rising fast on the White House campus. Not Trump’s East Wing ballroom — that’s on hold for now — but an octagonal fighting cage on the South Lawn, surmounted by star-spangled arches. 

The event is ostensibly part of “Freedom 250,” celebrations for America’s 250th year, but the date gives it away: The fight — put on by Trump’s longtime friend, UFC president Dana White — is scheduled for June 14, on Trump’s 80th birthday. Trump himself is a dedicated fan of the often-brutal sport.

Who’s paying for it? Allegedly, it’s all the UFC — to the tune of about $60 million. No tickets for the event will go on sale directly, but as BBC Sport reports, “guest packages” for the event could go for as much as $1.5 million apiece. (Other tickets will go to US servicemembers, though they’ll have to pay their own way — and reportedly adhere to height and weight standards in order to attend.) 

Trump has seemingly found a way to profit off the event, too: As HuffPost reported on Friday, Trump purchased as much as $50,000 in stock for UFC’s parent company earlier this year (among hundreds of millions of dollars in stock transactions he made in the first three months of 2026).

What’s the big picture? Trump is indulging a personal hobby and giving a close friend untold millions in free publicity by hosting an event on his own birthday on the White House lawn. 

Needless to say, none of that is normal — but increasingly, it’s also looking like business as usual, as the president attempts to permeate America’s currency, its passport, its national parks, many buildings in Washington and elsewhere, and even its 250th birthday with his own name, image, and gaudy aesthetic.

And with that, it’s time to log off…

Here’s a lighthearted note to end the week: Defector’s Kathryn Xu on how to teach a cat to do tricks (with some excellent video, and a gift link). Have a great weekend, and we’ll see you back here Monday for the first day of June! 

This story appeared in The Logoff, a daily newsletter that helps you stay informed about the Trump administration without letting political news take over your life. Subscribe here.

Welcome to The Logoff: Donald Trump has a new pick for director of national intelligence. 

Who’s the new guy? Jay Clayton, currently the US attorney for the Southern District of New York and a former chair of the Securities and Exchange Commission. He is — at least by Trump standards — an uncontroversial selection: Sen. Mark Warner, the top Democrat on the Senate Intelligence Committee, told reporters Thursday that he has “great respect” for Clayton. 

What’s the context? The director of national intelligence job is opening up because its current holder, former Rep. Tulsi Gabbard, announced last month that she would resign later in June. 

But Clayton’s selection for the permanent director of national intelligence job comes after Trump made a more concerning pick last week: Pending Clayton’s Senate confirmation, current Federal Housing Finance Agency Director Bill Pulte will take over as acting director of intelligence late next week, while remaining in his housing job.

Pulte is utterly unqualified for the role, and Trump’s decision to elevate him caused a bipartisan outcry. It also appears to have sunk, for now, a bill to reauthorize a foreign surveillance program that will expire tomorrow.

Does Clayton’s nomination fix everything? Not quite. The choice of Clayton as a permanent DNI satisfies one demand from lawmakers, but for now, Pulte is still set to take over until Clayton is confirmed by the full Senate (which won’t happen before next Friday). On Thursday, Trump confirmed he plans to keep Pulte in the acting role.

When Pulte does take over, his mandate appears to be to conduct “extensive cuts” to the Office of the Director of National Intelligence, according to Reuters. There are also serious concerns about what else he could do with the job, even during a brief tenure. 

At the housing agency he currently leads, he has taken it upon himself to play the role of self-appointed mortgage fraud czar and Trump attack dog, harassing the president’s political enemies.

And with that, it’s time to log off…

Hi readers, here’s a great story about the wonder of the natural world (or, well, as natural as Brooklyn’s Prospect Park gets). My colleague Benji Jones set out to discover a new species in the park — not as unlikely as it sounds, it turns out! — and he told Vox’s Unexplainable podcast all about it. You can listen here.

Plus, the first goal of the 2026 World Cup goes to host Mexico, playing at home in Mexico City’s Estadio Azteca.

Have a great evening, and we’ll see you back here tomorrow!

Once upon a time, women were asked if they had danced with the devil and howled at the moon. Now, a more important question is being asked: Is she a girl’s girl? 

Is Amanda Batula of Bravo’s Summer House a girl’s girl? How about Tituba? Anne Boleyn? Do you think Athena, goddess of wisdom and warfare, was Team Ciara? Even if she was not really a girl’s girl to Medusa?

Girl’s girl is, in its simplest and most earnest form, shorthand for a woman who prioritizes her female friends as opposed to the men in her life. The term acknowledges that female friendship is special — magical even — and should be cherished. Girl’s girls don’t fall into society’s trap of pitting women against each other. Being a girl’s girl is a way to say screw misogyny without having to wade into complicated feminist theory.

“Girl’s girl” can be a proud affirmation (I’m a girl’s girl). It is seeing someone scorn the most beautiful woman in your life and defending her vigorously. It’s also a stern assessment of loyalty (She is not a girl’s girl). 

Our collective desire to celebrate girl’s girls comes from a good place. But it can also be wielded like a weapon, or a mafia threat — a way to collectively punish women who fail to live up to these standards.     

How reality TV fell in love with a girl’s girl

The girl’s girl isn’t a new phenomenon, especially on the cable network Bravo and its streamer sister Peacock. 

Back on season 10 of the Real Housewives of New York (2018), Ramona Singer famously yelled at co-star Bethenny Frankel, telling her “you don’t support other women” after Frankel made fun of her skincare line and did not, in Singer’s eyes, thank a fellow Housewife profusely enough for procuring her a Christmas nutcracker decoration. 

It was also a major point of discussion during the “Scandoval” era of Vanderpump Rules, in which Tom Sandoval cheated on his longtime partner Ariana Madix with co-star Raquel Leviss. Leviss was seen as not a girl’s girl, while the women who supported Madix during this time were. Girl’s girl has, more recently, come up on newer shows like Real Housewives of Rhode Island, in which one cast member called another a “slam pig” for constantly spreading lies about her home, job, and colitis; at the same time, it appears that a different Rhode Island Housewife is being cheated on. The rest of the cast wants to be girl’s girls and support her, while also calling out her husband. 

“The whole appeal of reality TV is that it helps us. It’s both a mirror and sort of a prism into looking at ourselves,” said Gibson Johns, Bravo aficionado and host of the reality TV podcast Gabbing With Gib. “I think everybody wants to be considered a girl’s girl. It’s the ultimate phrase, honestly. It’s a reflection of your values and how good of a friend you are.”

“My understanding is that a girl’s girl is somebody who places primacy of female friendship over romantic relationships — especially if it’s just the potential of a romantic relationship versus an actual existing friendship,” said Anna Peele, a contributing editor at Vanity Fair and author of Enter the Villa: The (Unauthorized) Reality Behind Love Island. 

Love Island is the epicenter of girl’s girl-ing. For the uninitiated, the show is an amalgamation of competitive reality shows like Survivor and reality dating shows like The Bachelor. Women and men pair up, and face eliminations if they don’t have partners (or become “single and vulnerable,” in the show’s parlance). Peele explained to me that while girl-on-girl loyalty was always a component of the American version of the show, it wasn’t until season six that a girl’s girl pact was made.    

The main women on that season — Serena, JaNa, and Leah — banded together, forming an alliance known as the Powerpuff Girls (PPGs). Instead of following Love Island’s unspoken rule of putting men first (which would ostensibly keep you on the show longer and get you closer to winning the prize money) and allowing production to pit them against each other, the PPGs rewrote the show in their own way. 

“What was so moving about it was that they would give each other the time that ostensibly is supposed to be spent finding romantic love … comforting each other or encouraging each other,” Peele said, also pointing out that Ariana Madix, the Vanderpump Rules star who came out of Scandoval as the reigning queen of girl’s girls, hosted that sixth season.  

The most recent example of reality TV girl’s girl discourse is a rift among Summer House’s Ciara Miller, her ex West Wilson, and her longtime friend Amanda Batula. Miller and Wilson dated a while back, broke up, and have, onscreen, had a tenuous friendship since. At the same time, Miller and Batula were allegedly good friends until a March 31 joint announcement from Batula and Wilson that they were dating. The sudden confirmation of rumors that had been circulating for months — which Batula and Wilson had previously denied — set the women’s friendship on fire. 

Of all the men in the world to date, why did Batula need to be with Wilson? And of all the women in this world, why did Wilson betray Miller by choosing Batula? The backlash from fans was swift and unforgiving, and mostly directed at Batula. 

“If you’re a woman on Bravo, one of the worst things you can be called is not being a girl’s girl,” Johns said. “Nobody wants to be slapped with that label.”

Obviously, Love Island and Summer House aren’t real life. But no matter how unrealistic these programs are, they’re designed to tap into very human feelings of desire, lust, and jealousy. The twist, as the PPG showed us, is that these shows are also capable of showcasing more positive, less toxic, and genuinely aspirational versions of female friendship. 

That a reality dating show became a bastion of feminism and female friendship is not completely surprising to Yalda Uhls, a developmental psychologist. Uhls is the founder of UCLA’s Center for Scholars and Storytellers, which studies young people’s relationship to entertainment. 

She and her cohort have found that teens and young adults have continually expressed more desire for depictions of friendship in popular media. It just so happens that the young women on reality TV, like Love Island’s Powerpuff Girls, created the media they want themselves.  

“It kind of makes sense, and I think it’s a really positive thing,” Uhls said, noting that it’s also possible that producers would also encourage friendship-building, especially if it resonated with audiences.

“I hated those reality shows, which would just make all these women fight over men, and that’s so unhealthy,” she added. “So if we’re encouraging women to have healthy relationships with each other first, then they can start having healthy relationships with the opposite sex if that’s what they’re interested in.” 

When being a girl’s girl is actually a knife

Peele told me that you can’t really be a girl’s girl of one; the term exists to explain how you relate to other women. Perhaps that’s why, so often, it’s defined by its absence: She’s not a girl’s girl. In fact, she is their foil.  

Plug “Amanda Batula” into the search bar of any social media platform — Reddit, X, TikTok, perhaps even LinkedIn — and it will yield various posts and countless more comments about what a terrible person she is. The backlash to Batula stems from the perceived betrayal, says Peele. To the people most invested in this drama, Batula is not a girl’s girl. 

Peele pointed out that many viewers just accept Wilson’s villainy as a given, much like they do when it comes to the men on Love Island. There aren’t belabored dissertations about how Wilson’s hair could be a sign of terminal laziness or, worse, a moral failing. Nor is there a comparable number of Reddit threads about how his friendships have all been manifestations of a deep-seated, incurable insecurity. 

Uhls, the researcher at UCLA, told me that the criticism might be tied to just how much young people, and young women, value friendship. 

“I think it’s unfortunate to have backlash, but I guess in some ways it’s sort of trying to reward the good behavior and punish the bad behavior,” Uhls said. (To be clear, Uhls was not fully versed in the trials and tribulations of Summer House or Amanda Batula, and was speaking in a more general context.) “When someone is not modeling a positive relationship with another woman and there’s backlash online, it might be reinforcing that young people want to see positive relationships.” 

The ongoing Batula pile-on raises a conundrum, though. If everyone’s a girl’s girl and if girl’s girl means supporting women, the girl’s girl thing to do would be — as difficult as it seems — extending this girl a shred of grace, even if she didn’t do the same for her female friends. That she’s being punished so vigorously points to girl’s girl being less about positivity and more of a weapon to use against girls — women — who don’t pass the litmus test. 

Despite — or perhaps because of — the recent uptick in the term thanks to the Summer House fallout, the term might be on the wane. People have begun to recognize that “not a girl’s girl” can be applied to anyone and everyone (except men), for all manner of alleged crimes against women, and that there’s really no way to litigate it. There also seems to be a growing awareness that while holding women accountable for shitty behavior is good, witch hunts are bad, and so is letting men off the hook.

“I think that it means the most when coming from somebody else,” Johns said. “If somebody leads with being a self-identified girl’s girl, I think there’s probably reason to be suspicious of it.” 

Peele, the author who has consumed an unfathomable amount of Love Island, explained to me that a contestant on the eighth, now-airing season, quipped that anyone still describing themselves as a “girl’s girl” earnestly is a red flag. 

“Being a girl’s girl is obviously a principle that we should all strive to live by,” Peele said. “But it’s too meta at this point, and so it’s like, I don’t know, like a guy wearing a shirt that says Feminist.”

This story appeared in The Logoff, a daily newsletter that helps you stay informed about the Trump administration without letting political news take over your life. Subscribe here.

Welcome to The Logoff: The US-Iran “ceasefire,” such as it is, is breaking down.

What’s happening? After Iran downed a US helicopter earlier this week, violence between the two sides is escalating once again. The US struck targets inside Iran on Wednesday, and President Donald Trump subsequently threatened to “hit them again hard today,” while Iran has launched new attacks against multiple Gulf states, as well as nearby Jordan.

Iran also struck at Israel for the first time since early April over the weekend, amid ongoing fighting between Israel and Iran-backed Hezbollah; Israel responded with strikes of its own.

What’s the context? The current chaos comes after Trump started the week on a relative high note; on Tuesday, he told reporters that a “very, very good deal” was imminent. As CNN’s Aaron Blake points out, though, Trump’s prognostications are rarely worth the (figurative) paper they’re written on: He’s now predicted a negotiating breakthrough at least 38 times with nothing to show for it.

What’s the big picture? Trump’s Wednesday claim about a “secret” (not actually secret) effort to help vessels through the Strait of Hormuz aside, the crucial maritime passage is still largely closed to commercial traffic, and its impact on the global economy is only growing. 

The US Bureau of Labor Statistics released new data on Wednesday showing inflation jumping to 4.2 percent, its highest level in three years. Much of that increase comes from higher energy prices, a consequence of the strait’s closure. (Abroad, economic pressure from the war is doing even more damage; it’s resulted in deadly protests in multiple countries.)

None of that necessarily means Trump will give ground and agree to end the war any more quickly — as my colleague Josh Keating wrote late last month, he still seems to think he’s winning. But Trump doesn’t actually have a path to the kind of big win he seems to be seeking, and in the meantime, the consequences will keep piling up.

And with that, it’s time to log off…

Here’s a small, cool win: The US just got its first new sunscreen in almost 30 years, just in time for summer. 

As my colleague Dylan Scott explains, the key ingredient in the sunscreen, bemotrizinol, isn’t actually new — only new to those of us in the States, where it’s been a challenge to get new sunscreens approved by the FDA. But it’s an improvement in all sorts of important ways, which you can read about here with a gift link.

Have a great evening, and we’ll see you back here tomorrow!

As AI continues to encroach on every aspect of our lives, there is a persistent fear or hope, depending on your angle: AI will someday take over art. The internet is full of quizzes showing that most lay people cannot tell the difference between AI-generated art (digital pictures of paintings, prose) and the real thing. Multiple studies have shown that when people are shown AI-generated art and human-made art, but are not told which is which, they tend to prefer the AI-generated art, whether it be images, poetry, or prose. 

Yet what’s striking is that despite this disparity, people still consistently say that human-made art is what they want. 

In one study published in 2023, participants were shown a series of images, each randomly labeled “AI-made” or “human-made.” Participants rated the images they thought were machine made as worse than the images they thought had been created by a human artist — even when those were actually human-made. 

One conclusion you might draw here is that the widespread disdain for AI-generated art is empty snobbery. If human-made art were so much better, the argument goes, then people would be able to see a real difference. 

This line of thinking relies on the belief that “good” art is something that many people find appealing, at least in a vacuum. At this point, AI has automated that generation fairly successfully. At some point, it may get even better at it. 

But I don’t think those study participants were lying when they said they wanted human-made art, even if they couldn’t tell the difference. Even if we get to a future in which AI’s persistent glitches are ironed out, so that there are no more missing fingers and garbled sentences, and AI-generated images and music and poetry and prose and film are completely indistinguishable from the best a human can produce, even to highly trained experts — even then, I think people would still keep saying they would rather experience art made by humans. And even in such a world, I don’t think they would be lying. 

The pleasure of art is specifically related to the human mind on the other side of the product. When we’re told that the mind on the other side is a machine, many of us don’t want to engage anymore.

That loss of interest matters. It is consistent. It has happened before in the history of art. 

Two hundred years ago, another new technology emerged that was capable of automating the technical skills many people at the time would have considered one of art’s fundamental functions: the camera. It could capture a likeness perfectly and very quickly, in a moment when almost all of visual arts were organized around capturing a likeness. 

The camera changed the way paintings were produced and ultimately valued, but it did not replace the medium entirely — and the reasons why can help explain why AI-generated art won’t replace human-made art, either. 

“Art’s most mortal enemy”

In 19th-century Europe, one of the major ways people decided whether a painting was good was by asking the question, “How closely does this match what I can see with my eyes?” It was important for painters to be able to create something that we would now describe as photorealistic.

What people wanted from art at the time, says Richard Meyer, a professor of art history and director of American studies at Stanford University, was what people expect from a good Hollywood movie now: “You suspend your disbelief that you’re looking at a flat surface with pigment built up on it, and you fall into the fiction of, here are these beautiful bodies before you, or here is this landscape, or here’s this bowl of fruit.”

An artist’s skill was in large part defined by how faithfully they were able to recreate reality. Many artists were able to make a living painting relatively affordable portraits, which allowed people who weren’t aristocrats or nobility to commission a permanent record of their appearance, says Anju Lukose-Scott, a curator and master’s student at the University of Chicago. 

As inventors began to develop early versions of photography in the middle of the 19th century, it started to seem like artists might become redundant. A camera can create an exact record of the way the world looks far faster and more easily than any painter can, no matter how skilled they are with their brush. The new technology, French poet Charles Baudelaire wrote darkly in 1859, was “art’s most mortal enemy.” By the 20th century, as it became possible to reproduce an old masterpiece on a postcard, philosopher Walter Benjamin feared that original works of art had lost their unique aura.

The immediate implications for a large class of skilled craftspeople were catastrophic. “Portraiture was a huge commercial business,” Lukose-Scott says. The camera made such work nearly obsolete. Some artists went out of business; others pivoted to making daguerreotypes for their clients instead of paintings. 

But the effect on painting as a fine art form was different, Meyer says. Painters began to focus on what they could accomplish with their brushes that a camera could not. Instead of trying to capture reality, they began to use colors and textures to convey emotions.

Artists in the new impressionist movement would deliberately show their brushstrokes in their paintings, making the texture of the paint and canvas part of the artistic effect they were developing. Since photography was still a black-and-white medium, the impressionists made vivid colors more and more central to their work. They moved away from trying to duplicate the shapes and lines that cameras could record so well, and instead began to explore the way unnatural shapes and lines could provoke a visceral response from a viewer. 

To the modern eye, it’s these discrepancies between paintings and reality that make these impressionist paintings so exciting and pleasurable to look at. They show us a way of perceiving the world that photography cannot. 

As painting evolved, photography took over where trade portraiture left off: It was considered a craft, not an art. When people began to take photography seriously as its own medium in the 20th century, it wasn’t because of photography’s exceptional ability to capture a likeness, Meyer says. The ability to do that could now be taken for granted. Instead, the art of photography was about the choices made by the human using the camera: what to shoot, how to frame the subject, how to light it, how to edit it. 

Today, almost all of us carry cameras around in our pockets. But most of us would not describe the quick, functional photographs we take with our smartphones as art, no matter how accurately they capture the world around us. People can and do make art with their phones, but doing so requires a human mind working with intention and craft behind the machine of the camera.

We no longer consider the ability to create a perfect replica of reality to be the main prerequisite to making a piece of visual art. Technology has made it easy enough to do that the skill has lost value. People still care about visual art, but we use different criteria to evaluate it than we did in 1800. 

AI’s arrival may very well devalue the ability to create smoothly readable text and pleasant visual compositions, and that could mean bad things for a lot of industries, including journalism. But that doesn’t mean we’ll stop caring about whether or not a human being made a piece of art. 

“Art offers us a way of looking”

I keep thinking about something Meyer told me about what happened to the 19th-century portrait painters who lost their jobs to daguerreotypists. Meyer argues that there was something about the nature of middle-class portraiture that made people willing to cede it to cameras, in a way that they didn’t feel happy to do with the types of paintings that live on in museums.

In portraiture, Meyer says, “you’re going not so much for the individual expressive perspective of the artist but for a likeness. It’s really about oneself, the person portrayed, rather than the person portraying.” In contrast, Meyer says, fine art is about the artist, and the way that the artist sees the world.

It’s worth spending a bit of time on the distinction Meyer is drawing. One thing that people who love playing with AI sometimes say is that the pleasure of prompting comes from watching a stray thought become concrete in the blink of an eye: It is a piece of your mind made external, so that you can look at it. An AI prompt is about the person prompting, in much the same way that the average hired portrait was about the person being painted. 

If I consider an image or a piece of text to be a reflection of myself, I might not mind using soulless technology to create it — it’s already interesting to me, because it’s about me and for me. But when an image or a piece of text is about something else, I feel differently. I want to connect with another person, not something mechanical.

That seems to be the thing that most humans crave from art: an encounter with another human mind. Someone expresses how it feels to be alive in a human body, with a human soul, and another one sees it, reads it, hears it, and grasps at it. That is the experience that moves us. 

“It’s about wanting to understand how an individual sees the world differently from how we can see it on our own,” Meyer says. “Art offers us a way of looking.”

So when we think about whether AI-generated content has the potential to be art, to replace art, the question that matters is not whether it can create entertaining or realistic images and text out of nothing. The question is whether the machine allows us to experience the way a different person lives in the world. 

For Lukose-Scott, the possibility is unlikely, because today’s LLMs are trained on a corpus of existing art. ”What’s retained in the invention of photography is a kind of artistic identity. People are using the technology through their own artistic voice, which from my perspective is lacking in AI,” Lukose-Scott says. “My perception of AI art is that it’s just a self-gratifying loop, because it’s taking from what we already know, and it’s putting it back in the world.”

When a person uses ChatGPT to spit out a Studio Gibliflied replication of their family snapshots, they are not showing us a new form of subjectivity. They are mimicking the subjectivity of Hayao Miyazaki, without bringing Miyazaki’s intention or skill to bear on the finished product — and they’re able to do so because OpenAI trained its model on Miyazaki’s work without his permission. Unlike the camera, AI is built on a foundation of what is arguably intellectual theft.

This is not to say that it would be impossible for an artist to use AI as a tool to produce new artistic ideas, just as it is not impossible for an artist to use an iPhone camera as a tool to make art. But it would look different from slapping a prompt into Midjourney, for the same reason that most people’s iPhone selfies are not very artistically interesting: Because they are about and for you, not about sharing your embodied experience with the world. 

The context matters enormously. The context is what tells me that when I reach out to art with my human mind — my human soul — another mind is on the other side, reaching back. 

Monday morning, the Roman Catholic Church made its biggest foray yet into the discourse on artificial intelligence and the role it should play in human life as the technology develops.

In the first encyclical of his papacy, titled Magnifica humanitas (Latin for “magnificent humanity”), Pope Leo XIV argued that AI is not intrinsically immoral, but that its adoption needed to be slowed in order to build moral guardrails, to establish better social safety nets for those displaced by economic and labor disruptions, and to create democratic processes that will ensure the public remains in control of these developments, rather than a small subset of tech oligarchs. The document also contended that the “intelligence” in artificial intelligence was a misnomer: Intelligence is something only human persons possess, and technology will never be human.

Encyclicals are official teaching documents of the Catholic Church: letters issued by popes to bishops after consultation with theologians, historians, and experts on pressing matters that affect humanity or the church, with the expectation that all people, faithful or secular, can learn from them and help shape their consciences and lives. Magnifica humanitas is Leo’s first encyclical since becoming pope last year, and its release now underscores the focus the new pope is putting on AI and technology. Notably, Leo also used the occasion to make a historic formal apology for the Church’s previous defense and justification of slavery — a reminder that the Catholic Church has not always been on the right side of social ills.

Though popes are traditionally not present during the release of these documents, which first began in the 18th century, Leo XIV was in attendance at its presentation, and delivered his own comments — something Vatican observers indicated reflected his desire to make sure the Church’s stance was properly understood. The Chicago-born pontiff spoke in English and was joined by AI experts and industry leaders, including Anthropic co-founder Chris Olah, who consulted on the document. 

So how should the public process and think about this new document? It’s helpful to first understand the context in which the Church is speaking up about this at all.

Why the Catholic Church cares so much about AI’s development

Magnifica humanitas is dropping more than a week after Pope Leo XIV actually signed it on May 15. The timing matters.

That day marked 135 years since the release of Rerum Novarum, the seminal work of Pope Leo XIII, the current pope’s namesake, who was leading the church during the late stages of the Industrial Revolution. As they are today, the faithful, and the clergy, were facing a rapidly changing world. And the Church, the world’s leading moral authority at the time, had yet to establish its place in it. 

That 19th-century document made philosophical arguments about the relationship between labor and capital, warning about the perils of communism. But it also redefined the church’s relationship to the modern world, with the papacy reasserting itself as both a source of power and a moral authority in an era of rapid change. The encyclical set a template for how a 2,000-year-old institution could still remain relevant in a modern age.

In presenting this encyclical, Pope Leo XIV made this parallel clear. He sees the rise of artificial intelligence as the defining global challenge of the day, and of his pontificate: “Like the earlier Leo, I feel entrusted to look upon another huge transformation with eyes of faith, with lucidity of reason, with openness to mystery and with cries of the poor and the earth resounding in my heart,” the pope said while presenting his encyclical.

The newer encyclical builds off his predecessor’s tradition, and the various arguments popes have made about the importance of preserving the dignity of the human person and valuing modern technology only so long as it benefits everyone, not just its creators or the rich.

In 2015, Pope Francis, for example, wrote about “the technocratic paradigm” that has taken root in modern capitalism: the sense that technological progress is unstoppable, that it will demand unlimited concessions from nature and from people, and that the world had no choice but to submit to change.

“Leo is concerned that we don’t just submit to inevitability on questions of AI, but ask critical questions and push back in ways that are necessary before it’s too late to push back, before damage is done that can’t easily be undone,” Dan Rober, an associate professor of Catholic Studies at Sacred Heart University, told me.

That role of questioning, pausing, and coming to consensus has defined the Catholic Church’s leadership and operation for the last two papacies: the notion of synodality, or teaching and making decisions based on consensus. Before AI and the technologists who have created it become the sole determinants of how politics, the economy, and society operates, the Church is asserting itself as a counterweight — even as it includes some of those leaders in the process.

“Pope Leo is trying to clearly walk in those footsteps, and I think he’s very concerned, as are a lot of people, about the possible implications, particularly for job markets and for people’s lifestyles being sustainable day to day with the rise of AI systems that may render a certain significant amount of jobs able to be automated very rapidly,” Rober said.

This kind of reflection has become standard procedure for the Vatican. Since at least the turn of the century, the Church has found itself increasingly weighing in on the crises of the day, albeit often a bit too late. 

As the Catholic writer Christopher Hale has noted, “Francis took up the climate fight with Laudato Si in 2015, after decades of scientific consensus had been ignored. Benedict XVI took up the global economic order with Caritas in Veritate in 2009, after the financial system had already collapsed. Both documents arrived in the long shadow of the crises they addressed.”

In Magnifica humanitas, Pope Leo XIV may be seeking to intervene early in the development or takeover of a new technology this time, and show that the Church wants to both work with Silicon Valley and assert itself as a powerful defender of modern values, as it has done in its defense of the liberal international order and aspects of humanism, like human autonomy and reason.

In the background, there’s also a more sci-fi element: the notion that AI could end up coming between the Church and the people — serving as a filter or layer between regular people and God, and perhaps even usurping the role of the Church itself. The Catholic Church, famously, is concerned with the proper interpretation of scripture, Biblical truths, ethics, and God. Bloody wars waged and hard-fought reformations turned on this central question of who and how one can commune with God. Now, AI enters as another middleman.

“That’s closely related to the question of people using AI as a therapist,” Rober told me. “You could see a way in which AI becomes its own kind of religion, and certainly the way a lot of the Silicon Valley founders talk about it, it does have religious overtones to it. You listen to the Google founders talk about the singularity, and that sounds a lot like religion.”

It’s in this context that this document, and its specific teachings, lands.

What the Church is teaching about AI

Magnifica Humanitas is not the Vatican’s first examination of the role of AI in modern life. 

Just last year, in the twilight of Pope Francis’s pontificate, the Vatican released a teaching note, Antiqua et nova, that laid the groundwork for Leo’s encyclical. That 2025 document established that the Church is not opposed to the development of AI: technological progress and scientific discoveries are part of the natural way that humans are meant to honor God, his creation of humanity in his image, and the natural outpouring of God’s gift of reason and rationality.

But it also established a distinction between human intelligence and machines that analyze data and perform processes. It insisted that artificial intelligence, like all technology, should serve humanity, not the other way around. And it emphasized the risk that new technology poses to the ability to, right to, and dignity of work, especially for the least well off in society.

In the encyclical, Leo uses the biblical parable of the Tower of Babel — a warning about human hubris — to make this case: “We must, then, avoid the ‘Babel syndrome,’ namely the idolatry of profit that sacrifices the weak,” he writes. “The risk of dehumanization — of building a future that excludes God and reduces the other to a means — is an ancient and ever-new temptation that today takes on a technical guise.”

This builds off of a long tradition of focusing on not just the dignity of work and workers, but also more recent concerns that modern capitalism facilitates a “throwaway culture” that views people and things as, at best, cogs in the service of a greater machine.

“He wants to talk about the idea that our humanity is meaningful in and of itself and that work is part of that, even if AI systems are able to allow for more leisure and even if something like universal basic income were to be made available, people need to find to have work of some kind to have meaning in their lives,” Rober said.

The encyclical’s teachings can be broken up into three broad categories: regulations on how AI is developed and how individuals adopt it, the responses required to handle the economic effects of AI, and limits on AI’s usage in war. 

The practical recommendations and concerns Leo outlines include:

• The need for a “more active” democratic process for people to decide how AI will develop, “that is capable of slowing things down when everything is accelerating, and of protecting the opportunities for communities still to be able to participate and ask questions.”
• Regulation of how companies collect and use personal data, which “should not be treated as something to be sold off or entrusted to a select few.”
• Better education of adults, teachers, and young people for using AI in their daily lives, specifically to avoid sexual exploitation, blackmail, grooming, and disinformation.
• Environmental regulations, given AI infrastructure’s impact on the natural world.
• A duty for governments to protect access to, and the dignity of, work, to provide job training and professional help to workers affected by AI disruptions, and to redistribute the wealth and value created by AI to those it displaces.
• Flexibility from labor unions and organizations to “be open to new types of employment and the corresponding needs of workers, in order to represent and defend them.”
• New rules of war and accountability for AI usage in combat, given that “just war” theory is being made obsolete by the growing automation of warfare. “When a decision to strike becomes automated or opaque, the risk of abdicating responsibility increases,” the encyclical says. “For this reason, the chain of responsibility must be identifiable and verifiable; those who design, train, authorize and employ technology must be held accountable for their decisions.” 
• A new international compact on how AI should be used to avoid “the technological arms race and ensure robust protection for civilians and the infrastructures necessary for their survival.”

From an eagle-eye view, the document is fairly wonky and detailed: concerned with very practical matters and specific recommendations that could have come from academia, or a secular background — underscoring just how much Leo may hope it can provide guidance for leaders and individuals, as opposed to remaining siloed to the intellectual class. So as this technology continues to develop, the pope and the church want to help shape it. They want the faithful to be reminded that whatever AI offers is not reality, not personhood, and not God. It is a tool that should not dominate or determine the lives of its users. And it should not replace the role of the Church in teaching morality and ethics.

For the greater secular world, the Church wants to remind the public that they should have a say in how AI shapes their world; they should not allow business and tech leaders to define the terms of existence through their machines; and that they have a powerful ally in the Roman Catholic Church in the effort to preserve human dignity in the face of unprecedented technological change.

Shortly after brandishing his infamous chainsaw on a conservative conference stage last February, Elon Musk attended a Cabinet meeting where, giggling slyly, he admitted to having “accidentally canceled” Ebola prevention in his haste to obliterate the US Agency for International Development (USAID).

“We restored the Ebola prevention immediately,” he added coolly at the time, “and there was no interruption.” That claim has since proven to be disastrously, profoundly untrue. 

On May 17, the World Health Organization declared a rapidly spreading Ebola outbreak in the Democratic Republic of the Congo and Uganda a “public health emergency of international concern,” only the ninth-ever time the agency has made that designation. In the weeks since, at least 220 people have died of the highly fatal virus, and more than 900 suspected cases have been identified so far. It is already the third-largest Ebola outbreak on record.

And yet, that toll is likely a tremendous undercount because, as the New York Times reported from the ground this week, “only a trickle of tests are being processed every day” in the cities most affected by the outbreak. “The virus is far ahead of us,” Ahmed Mahat, a manager with International Medical Corps, told the Times. “And it’s spreading fast.”

In fact, publicly known cases are rising exponentially faster than in any prior outbreak, including the largest ever, West Africa’s catastrophic outbreak in 2014, and the second-largest in 2018. By the time this outbreak was declared, hundreds of people had already been infected.

When you stop looking, you can’t see

Why did this outbreak spread so quickly? Part of it was the virus itself, a rare Bundibugyo strain of Ebola, which is harder to diagnose and for which there are no vaccines or treatments. (At least, not yet.) Another reason is that this outbreak began in a remote province of eastern Congo, an active war zone, where what health systems exist have been ravaged by decades of armed conflict. 

As if the odds weren’t already stacked enough, however, this outbreak broke out under the heavy shadow of US foreign aid cuts that, among other calamities, gutted the world’s Ebola detection and response apparatus last year. Despite Musk’s earlier assurances, US-funded programs to detect new Ebola cases and dispatch a response were indeed frozen under the Trump administration, according to Stat. US cuts also indirectly contributed to the outbreak by weakening local health systems and stockpiles. 

Altogether, the US Department of Health and Human Services disbursed about $10 million to Congo last year, down from $33 million the year prior, Stat noted. USAID sent $693 million in aid to Congo last year, down from nearly $1.2 billion in 2024. 

Cuts to disease surveillance meant that this virus took longer to identify than it should have. And with cuts to local health systems, it’s now much harder to come by the tests, nurses, doctors, and protective equipment needed to stop the spread. 

“It’s so bad. It’s so bad,” Jean Kaseya, director-general of the Africa Centre for Disease Control and Prevention, told Devex. The Africa CDC’s role in quelling outbreaks has become even more important as wealthy countries have retreated from the global health stage, but it is impossible to fill all of the medical surveillance gaps left by the US withdrawal of support, he said. “No one can give you the magnitude of this outbreak.”

Bleeding out

The US has done some course correction since the outbreak began. Last week, the State Department pledged $23 million in emergency funding for Congo and Uganda, plus the deployment of a disaster response team and enhanced involvement from the CDC, which says it’s been actively coordinating with local health agencies. At least some lost funding should have also begun flowing back to both countries through their bilateral aid deals with the US. 

But when you lose a limb to a chainsaw — even a “chainsaw of bureaucracy” like the one Musk dragged across a stage — you can’t expect a bandaid to make up for the damage. Beyond the money, the US withdrawal from the WHO and other policy decisions have had a deeply destabilizing effect on global health systems, which no doubt helped bungle this outbreak response. In many cases, the disease experts and researchers who were once in charge are simply not there anymore. 

Given the outbreak’s virulence so far, things will probably get significantly worse before they get better. While the majority of cases have occurred in Congo so far, Robert Redfield, former head of the CDC, predicted last week that the virus could soon spread to neighboring countries like Tanzania and South Sudan. Researchers have rapidly begun development on a new vaccine for the deadly virus, but even in a very best-case scenario, it will take months to roll out. In the meantime, health workers will continue to play catch-up to a virus that now has a massive head start.

As Nicholas Enrich, the former top global health official for USAID, told the New York Times last week: “In a time when hours matter, we’re delayed by weeks.”

Justice Brett Kavanaugh is a Republican. He served in a Republican White House, typically votes with the Court’s other Republicans, and even sometimes sides with President Donald Trump in major cases that divide the Republican Party. He’s not the sort of person you’d expect to carry a torch for a liberal cause for nearly four full decades.

But, well, he did. In Kavanaugh’s majority opinion in Pitchford v. Cain, which was handed down on Thursday, the justice more or less implemented a proposal for how to prevent racism from infecting jury selection that he first proposed in a 1989 piece that he published when he was still a law student.

To be clear, Kavanaugh’s Pitchford opinion doesn’t really break much new ground. It involves a straightforward violation of Batson v. Kentucky (1986), the Supreme Court’s most important precedent governing race in jury selection, and rules in favor of the person on death row who brought this fairly clear-cut violation to the Supreme Court’s attention.

Still, Pitchford was a 5-4 decision, with four of Kavanaugh’s fellow Republicans joining a dissent by Justice Neil Gorsuch. So the decision could have easily come down the other way if one of the Republican justices hadn’t developed a liberal approach to Batson before he started his legal career. Sometimes, even Supreme Court justices — arguably the most highly vetted political appointees in the entire federal government — contain multitudes.

Again, Pitchford is a fairly easy case. In a less ideological Supreme Court, the incarcerated person at the heart of this case might have won unanimously. But the decision does suggest that left-leaning advocates can sometimes prevail in this Court by appealing to the idiosyncratic views of some of the Republican justices.

Kavanaugh’s long-standing approach to race in jury selection, explained

In 1989, Kavanaugh published a “note” in the Yale Law Journal. Notes are student-authored works of legal scholarship, which often examine an important recent legal development. High-achieving law students frequently choose to write these notes because it gives them a published exemplar of their own legal writing skills that they can share with potential employers.

The surprising twist is that in his 1989 note, Kavanaugh — who, of course, would go on to become one of the most powerful Republicans in the United States — chose to advocate for a cause that is ordinarily associated with liberals. Published three years after the Supreme Court handed down Batson, Kavanaugh’s note, which is titled “Defense Presence and Participation: A Procedural Minimum for Batson v. Kentucky Hearings,” argued that the Court’s recent decision protecting against racism in jury selection should be read to include certain procedural protections for criminal defendants.

In criminal trials, both the prosecution and the defense often get a limited number of “peremptory challenges,” which they can use to remove a potential juror from the jury pool for virtually any reason. These peremptory strikes may be used to remove a juror because the prosecutor doesn’t like the juror’s haircut, because the defense counsel thinks a juror looked at their client suspiciously, or because counsel doesn’t like having jurors whose name begins with the letter “M.” 

But the Constitution prohibits prosecutors from removing a juror because of that juror’s race. 

As Kavanaugh explains in his Pitchford opinion, Batson sets up a three-step process to determine whether prosecutors did, in fact, remove a juror for impermissible racial reasons. After the defense counsel objects to the removal of a particular juror or group of jurors (step one), the prosecutor typically must give a race-neutral explanation for why they wanted the juror removed (step two). At step three, Kavanaugh writes, “defense counsel has an opportunity to rebut the prosecutor’s race-neutral reason as pretextual,” and then the judge has to decide who is telling the truth.

Kavanaugh’s 1989 note argues that courts must ensure that this third step is complied with; he wrote at the time that “the defense should have an opportunity to rebut the prosecutor’s reasons before the trial judge decides whether to allow the prosecutor’s peremptories.” His opinion in Pitchford makes a very similar argument.

In Pitchford, prosecutors in a Mississippi murder case used their peremptory challenges to remove four of five potential Black jurors from defendant Terry Pitchford’s jury pool. Defense counsel objected on Batson grounds, and the prosecutor gave race-neutral explanations for targeting these jurors. (The prosecution claimed that one juror was removed because they arrived late to court, two because they had brothers convicted of violent offenses, and one because he, like the defendant, was a young father.) 

But the trial judge never gave defense counsel an opportunity to rebut these explanations. The judge simply deemed the prosecutor’s explanations acceptable and moved on.

This, Kavanaugh writes in Pitchford, is not allowed. In a sentence that mirrors the argument he made in 1989, the justice writes that “after a prosecutor asserts race-neutral reasons for a peremptory strike, the defense counsel must at least have an opportunity to argue that the asserted race-neutral reasons were not the actual reasons—that is, the reasons were pretextual.”

So how did this easy case produce a four-justice dissent?

To be clear, it’s not exactly a stretch for Kavanaugh to argue that, when Batson said that courts must use a three-step process to resolve jury discrimination claims, all three steps are mandatory. At most, Pitchford makes explicit something that was already implicit in US law.

But Pitchford was complicated by a federal law, the Antiterrorism and Effective Death Penalty Act of 1996 (AEDPA), that makes it difficult for convicted offenders to challenge their convictions or sentences in federal court if they were first tried in state court. To prevail in such a federal challenge, Pitchford must show that state courts handed down a decision that “was contrary to, or involved an unreasonable application of, clearly established Federal law, as determined by the Supreme Court of the United States” or “was based on an unreasonable determination of the facts in light of the evidence presented in the State court proceeding.” 

Given this high bar placed in front of people who wish to challenge state-level convictions or sentences, a federal judge who wants to leave the state court’s decision in place will almost always be able to find a way to do so. And Gorsuch’s opinion does just that. 

The dissent’s primary argument is that Pitchford waived his Batson argument because, while his lawyers raised it in the trial court, they did not provide enough detail about how, specifically, the trial judge violated Batson when they raised this objection. As a general rule, lawyers may not raise an argument on appeal unless they also raised that argument in the trial court.

That’s not a very good argument, because, as Kavanaugh explains, defense counsel raised their Batson argument multiple times at trial. And, after one of these objections, the trial judge “explicitly assured Pitchford’s counsel that the Batson objection was preserved.” So it would have been odd — and could have potentially antagonized the judge — if defense counsel had elaborated further on their Batson argument after the judge effectively told them to drop the issue and take it up in the appeals courts.

But the fact remains that Pitchford barely prevailed in the Supreme Court. And, if not for the fact that Kavanaugh appears to have developed the view that all three prongs of Batson’s process are mandatory in law school, this case would have likely come out the other way.

Liberal victories aren’t exactly common in this Court, but they also aren’t so rare that they are unimaginable. In this case, one of the justices appears to have formed an opinion on a politically contentious issue before he fully embraced the broader worldview that he needed to have in order to score political appointments in a Republican administration. And that means that, at least in cases involving jury discrimination, criminal defense lawyers will sometimes find a sympathetic bench in the Supreme Court.