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The president wants a 50% increase over last year’s Pentagon budget, to $1.5 trillion; a wiser policy would be to rethink how the US is to co-exist with other nations in what is emerging as a multipolar world.
The US empire is in decline. Compare it today to where it was only 30 years ago, following the collapse of the Soviet Union. It was a “hyperpower,” then, almost inconceivably dominant with no challengers on Earth.
Since then, China has surpassed the US economically. Russia is rated No.1 militarily. The US has to borrow close to $2+ trillion per year (the annual federal budget deficit) just to keep the lights on. Its government based on checks and balances is under assault by a sleazy felon who wants to be king. It is wracked by social divisions that presage civil war.
President Donald Trump’s proposed solution to these problems is to shoot our way out. He wants a 50% increase over last year’s Pentagon budget, to $1.5 trillion. It is stupid in the measure to which it is excessive. It is suicidal to the extent it will degrade our security and our chances of improving national prosperity.
A wiser policy would be to rethink how the US is to co-exist with other nations in what is emerging as a multipolar world. That’s a big rethink. There’s another rethink coming as well: how we run the economy and what it is that actually accounts for national well-being.
The era when the US could dominate, intimidate, and expropriate the rest of the world is over. If it continues to push military power as its primary path forward it will continue to produce catastrophe.
Neither of these “rethinkings”—neither security nor the economy—will be easy. Both will go against existing failed doctrines and the powerful interests that back them. But, without doing this, we face the certainty of continuing national decline.
The highest-level rationale for rejecting a 50% increase in the Pentagon’s budget is that the military simply doesn’t win wars. Sure, it can knock off defenseless, pipsqueak principalities like Grenada, or Serbia, or Libya. But whenever it goes up against a committed adversary, especially one that fights back, it loses.
It lost in Vietnam to a nation of rice farmers that hadn’t even entered the industrial age. It killed more than 3 million Vietnamese, 4 million Southeast Asians when you count Laos and Cambodia. Yet, it lost.
It lost in Iraq, despite Iraq having been bombed for the prior decade, since the first Gulf War in 1991. Even in losing, the US killed more than a million Iraqis and spawned ISIS, one of the most virulent terrorist organizations ever let loose on the world.
It lost in Afghanistan, despite 20 years of trying to win. Afghanistan was a fourth-world country, with the Taliban literally living in caves. The Taliban had only hand-held firearms. No air force. No artillery. No satellite intelligence. The US still managed to lose.
Ukraine isn’t over, yet, but it is lost. Russia has crushed every one of the fabled “wonder weapons” the US has thrown at it. Remember when Trump was going to end the Ukraine war “on Day One”? We’re now past Day 500. It hasn’t ended because Trump is too weak to take the Loss on his watch. But it is lost.
Iran is the most recent—and damaging—case of catastrophic US military failure. It has a military budget one-one hundredth that of the US. Yet, Iran has “humiliated” the US, at least in the words of German Chancellor, Friedrich Merz. Neocon heavyweight Robert Kagan recently wrote, “It’s hard to think of a time when the United States suffered a total defeat in a conflict, a setback so decisive that the strategic loss could be neither repaired nor ignored.”
None of these outcomes are equivocal. None are ambiguous. Is that the kind of outfit we want to give a 50% raise to when it can never come close to accomplishing its essential mission? And when it never learns from its repeated failures?
This is one of the major rethinks that will have to be conducted before any thought can be given to giving even one extra dollar to the Pentagon. We need to hear from the leadership what, exactly, is going to change. And we don’t mean fiddling at the margins. We mean at the core of the institution. For example…
US weapons systems are not made to be able to win in battle. They are made to deliver maximum profits to the weapons makers. Consider…
The Patriot missile system is easily baited with low-cost drones into giving away its location and radar signature. “Here I am! Here I am!” It is then a sitting duck for cruise missiles, hypersonic missiles, even swarms of the same low-cost drones.
The HIMARS rocket launcher uses common GPS as part of its guidance system. This is easily jammed resulting in missiles sometimes landing kilometers away from their intended targets. Its greatest value might be that every battery reliably drains $20 million from US taxpayers.
The M-1 Abrams tank wears a gigantic “shoot me” sign as soon as it’s spotted by one of the Russian drones that saturate the skies over Ukraine. The phrase “Fish in a barrel” comes to mind.
The bigger problem—bigger than weapons that don’t work—is that the US economy is not set up to support sustained, high intensity warfare. It gave up that capability decades ago, when it decided to de-industrialize so its companies could make more money building their stuff in China.
This is one of the reasons the US, via its proxy, Ukraine, has not been able to defeat Russia: it simply cannot supply the amount of ammunition Ukraine would need to prevail. Russia is firing 5-10 times the amount of artillery Ukraine is, and there’s literally nothing the US can do about it.
It would take decades to rebuild the weapons-focused industrial capacity the US possessed in the 1960s. Given the failure of the larger military enterprise in the US, there is no certainty that, once delivered, it would not be ill-conceived, misdirected, or already obsolete. In fact, given the Pentagon’s track record, the likelihood is that it would be all three.
The deepest problem for the US in grappling with increased Pentagon funding is rooted in its world view.
That was formed in the aftermath of World War II and reinforced following the collapse of the Soviet Union, in 1991. After both events, the US stood astride the world like a colossus, unchallenged in its ability to destroy any other country. Heady stuff but the world doesn’t sit still.
Countries do not acquiesce in their own destruction. They organize themselves to fight back; they collaborate with other countries for collective self-defense; and they employ asymmetric strategies to defeat predators, as Vietnam and Afghanistan did, and as Iran has just done. The US military hasn’t gotten the memo.
The unprovoked Iran debacle has boosted the fortunes of Russia and China, the US’ principal rivals. It has elevated Iran to being the hegemon in the Persian Gulf. That rise is abetted by a quartet of Islamic powers that are tired of US and Israeli bullying: Pakistan, Turkey, Egypt, and Saudi Arabia. They are forming an “Islamic NATO” to keep the US and Israel out of the Gulf. This is super important.
Since World War II, the Middle East has been one of the most important regions in the world because of its vast oil wealth. A 1945 US State Department memo stated that “Arab oil resources constitute a stupendous source of strategic power and one of the greatest material prizes in world history.”
It is the Trump Pentagon, the Pete Hegseth Pentagon, that has destroyed the US’ control of that “greatest material prize in world history.” Actually, it’s even worse than that. By forcing 50% higher oil prices on the rest of the world, the US is draining wealth from every country on Earth. Many of those countries were already economically tenuous. There’s not a one that doesn’t despise the US for the extortion.
Is that an organization to which we want to grant an additional half a trillion dollars a year? Every year? So it can wreak more destruction on US fortunes? Before it rethinks itself and how it can contribute responsibly to US well-being in the world? It’s not even fatuous. It’s insane.
So, if a $1.5 trillion budget for the military is not the solution to the US woes, what is?
The US could more plausibly revive its fortunes in the world by investing the would-be increase in Pentagon spending into the civilian economy, instead.
It should invest in the nation’s people—education—so as to improve the economy’s productivity. It should invest in the nation’s infrastructure to increase the economy’s efficiency. It should invest in scientific research and development to boost innovation. And, it should re-invest in alternative energy to build resilience.
Productivity. Efficiency. Innovation. Resilience. Those are what built the US in the 20th century. They are the real foundations of national well-being. None of them are mysteries as far as how they lead to a better economy and a stronger state. None are conceptually hard to carry out.
Donald Trump is doing exactly the opposite.
He is gutting education, rescinding major infrastructure projects, savaging scientific research, and in all ways possible dismantling alternative energy. Those avenues all go against the essence of Trumpism, which is looting, shifting national resources and wealth to the already wealthy—Trump’s base.
Looting is what Trump’s proposed increase in the Pentagon budget is really all about. It is the Mother of All Trump Grifts. It is 277 times larger than his laughable $1.8 billion Slush Fund. It wants to hide the grift under the quasi-sacrosanct cover of military spending.
But it doesn’t begin to even acknowledge, to say nothing of fix, the deep failings in the military. It actively damages the economy by diverting scarce resources to parasitic looting that inflicts more harm than it heals.
Trump’s proposal improves the fortunes of the already very wealthy, as all things from Trump do. It lards them with $500 billion of unaccountable giveaways every year. It is a payoff to his rich backers and to the military Trump thinks he’s going to need to finish his overthrow of the government when the time comes, in 2028.
The era when the US could dominate, intimidate, and expropriate the rest of the world is over. If it continues to push military power as its primary path forward it will continue to produce catastrophes like Vietnam, Iraq, Afghanistan, Ukraine, and Iran, all of which have degraded US power, influence, and standing in the world.
Alternatively, it can invest in the economy, in the American people, to create higher growth, income, equality, resilience, and prosperity. Instead of trying to shoot our way out of our self-inflicted decline, we can try to think our way out, earn our way out, work our way out. It’s not certain. Nothing ever is. But it has so much more dignity and likelihood of success about it.
A country is not secure simply because it can strike targets, protect bases, or surge forces across oceans. It is secure when its people can see a future worth defending.
Washington usually measures American decline in external terms: China’s rise, Russia’s revisionism, strained alliances, and military crises in the Middle East. But one of the clearest warnings is coming from inside the United States. In 2025, only 43% of Americans ages 15 to 34 said it was a good time to find a job where they lived, 21 points below Americans 55 and older. In no other surveyed country was the generational gap this wide.
That finding should unsettle a country that is still speaking the language of primacy. Young Americans are not turning gloomy because they have forgotten how to be optimistic. They are reading the economy in front of them. Youth unemployment stood at 9.5% in April. Renter cost burdens hit a record 22.7 million households in 2024. The share of first-time home buyers fell to a record-low 21%, while the median first-time buyer’s age rose to 40. For a generation told that education, discipline, and work would translate into stability, the bargain looks broken.
This is not only a domestic story. It is also a foreign policy failure, because budgets reveal what a government treats as urgent. The Defense Department’s 2026 request totaled $961 billion, among the largest inflation-adjusted requests of the past half century. Additional military-related funding has pushed “national defense” spending beyond $1 trillion. The point is not that every dollar spent on the Pentagon could be mechanically converted into a job, an apartment, or a mortgage. The point is that Washington still knows how to mobilize at scale—but most reliably when the beneficiaries are weapons programs, contractors, and permanent military infrastructure.
The war with Iran has made that imbalance harder to ignore. By May, the US campaign had cost an estimated $29 billion, including operations and equipment repair or replacement. The conflict has also disrupted energy flows through one of the world’s most important corridors, raising the risk that households already squeezed by rent, debt, insurance, and food costs will face still more pressure. For young workers, “foreign policy” is not abstract when it comes back as higher prices, lower confidence, and another delay in leaving home.
If Washington continues to protect an empire more energetically than it protects the next generation’s prospects, the damage will not remain hidden in surveys.
Washington often treats these costs as unfortunate side effects of leadership. They are better understood as evidence of an outdated model of security. A country is not secure simply because it can strike targets, protect bases, or surge forces across oceans. It is secure when its people can see a future worth defending. A state that can finance escalation faster than housing, debt relief, or public investment teaches its younger citizens a bleak lesson: Their insecurity is manageable, but imperial credibility is an emergency.
A serious foreign policy would start from that recognition. It would pursue diplomacy with Iran rather than convert each crisis into a test of dominance. It would restore the congressional role in decisions of war and peace. It would subject military spending to the same moral and fiscal scrutiny imposed on social programs. And it would treat economic security at home as part of national security, not as an afterthought to be discussed after the next supplemental defense bill.
This is not a call for withdrawal from the world. It is a call to abandon the habit of confusing militarization with responsibility. The United States can cooperate, mediate, trade, provide humanitarian assistance, and support climate resilience without treating armed escalation as the default proof of seriousness. In fact, a foreign policy built around restraint would be more credible abroad precisely because it would be more defensible at home.
The warning from young Americans is not just that the job market feels weak. It is that the future feels rationed. If Washington continues to protect an empire more energetically than it protects the next generation’s prospects, the damage will not remain hidden in surveys. It will appear in politics, institutions, and the country’s declining ability to persuade anyone—including its own citizens—that American power still serves a public purpose. The real measure of decline is not only what rivals do to the United States. It is what the United States keeps choosing to do to itself.
Having hijacked American democracy, Trump and his cronies are under the impression that they are flying ever upward, but they have not been blessed with a good sense of direction.
Ever since North Korea suffered through the death of its first leader in 1994, a loss magnified by an economic collapse and a devastating famine, outside observers have likened the country to an airplane experiencing a serious malfunction. The major question they posed: In the end, would North Korea experience a soft landing or a catastrophic crash?
Perhaps a reformer would come along—say, a North Korean version of Soviet leader Mikhail Gorbachev—who could right the airship of state and guide it toward the runway of reunification with South Korea.
More direly, the North Korean regime could collapse all of a sudden, like the Communist governments in Eastern Europe in 1989. Those were relatively peaceful affairs, but North Korea’s worst-case scenarios might involve violent power struggles, the return of famine, and a free-for-all scramble for the country’s loose nukes. US analysts have gamed out the consequences of just such a hard landing—and so has the Pentagon with its OPLAN 5029—and they all add up to a tragedy not only for North Koreans and the region, but also potentially for the United States and the rest of the world.
The North Korean government has, however, defied such scenarios by somehow surviving, while rejecting reunification with the South and turning up its nose at conventional versions of reform. Despite additional challenges—a sustained Covid-19 quarantine, several distinctly hostile governments in South Korea, and a flatlining economy—the regime has so far avoided collapse and, if anything, tightened its control over its population. For the time being at least, the North Korean plane evidently has no intention of landing, much less crashing.
Given the state of the airplane—a malfunctioning altimeter, compromised landing gear—it might not matter who the pilot is anymore. Air America may well be heading for a crash landing regardless of who’s in charge.
Today, in an improbable plot twist, however, Donald Trump’s United States is starting to seem ever more like an aircraft in distress.
After all, the present pilot of Air America, exhibiting signs of psychosis or perhaps dementia, has begun to dismantle the cockpit under the delusion that it’s his to transform into a ballroom. The crew—and indeed much of the supporting infrastructure on the ground below—has been decimated by budget cuts. The airline itself is fast taking on debt. Many of the passengers are praying for a soft landing and hoping that, if the plane does touch down for a risky layover, they will get a new pilot.
But another fear lurks in the background. Given the state of the airplane—a malfunctioning altimeter, compromised landing gear—it might not matter who the pilot is anymore. Air America may well be heading for a crash landing regardless of who’s in charge.
Those of us on board, gripping our armrests in terror, are asking ourselves one question above all else: Is it too late to avert catastrophe?
North Korea has come closer than any country in the modern era to building a totalitarian state. Beginning with the country’s founder, Kim Il Sung, its leadership has eliminated all oppositional politics; suppressed virtually all signs of civil society; and tolerated no freedom of the press, speech, or assembly. Nor is there any freedom of religion, unless you count the personality cult attached to the Kim family leadership, which is now in its third generation.
But all totalitarianism is aspirational. The Soviet Union had its dissidents and underground samizdat literature. The Confessing Church movement attempted faith-based resistance to the Nazis. Likewise, the North Korean government’s control over the population is not total, as can be measured by rising levels of private enterprise and covert enthusiasm for South Korean culture.
Really, the only way to explain such an attraction of opposites—an elected US leader and the North Korean dictator—is to point out that the two distinctly have something in common: their desire for total control.
So, too, are Donald Trump’s totalitarian tendencies aspirational. He would like to achieve total control, but he’s hemmed in by institutional limits. Still, he prefers to bypass Congress with rule by executive decree. He has attempted to control the media, rein in the power of universities, and tilt the electoral playing field to benefit his party. He has aligned himself internationally not with democrats but with autocrats. He has had a particular fondness for authoritarian leaders like Benjamin Netanyahu of Israel and Javier Milei of Argentina who consolidated their power within democracies. But he has also gotten cozy with the likes of Saudi Arabia’s Mohammed bin Salman, who doesn’t bother at all with elections.
The most inexplicable friendship Trump developed while in office is certainly with North Korea’s Kim Jong Un, the founder’s grandson. Having traded escalating threats during part of Trump’s first term in office, the two leaders grew closer after several in-person meetings and a raft of exchanged letters. “I was really being tough,” Trump explained in 2018. “And so was he. And we’d go back and forth. And then we fell in love. OK? No, really.”
Really, the only way to explain such an attraction of opposites—an elected US leader and the North Korean dictator—is to point out that the two distinctly have something in common: their desire for total control. Whether intentionally or not, Trump has applied some of the features of the Kim family playbook to his own governing style. In doing so, he has also damaged, perhaps irreparably, the very idea of America.
One of the key elements of North Korean politics is the personality cult of the Kim family, which casts a long shadow over the country’s culture. Drawn in part from northern Korea’s earlier Christian heritage—through the development of a trinity of founding figures, the 10 commandments of Kimilsungism, and pervasive themes of sacrifice and redemption—that personality cult has generated so much fervor among many North Koreans that even defectors have spoken of their pride in founder Kim Il Sung and his ideology.
Trump, too, has tried to construct such a personality cult—by placing his name on public buildings (the Kennedy Center), putting his face on US coins (the semiquincentennial dollar), inserting his image in future passports, and planning a golden statue of himself at his presidential library that resembles one of Kim Il Sung in Pyongyang. So far, however, outside of the MAGA faithful, his cult seems to have generated little more than ridicule.
Another aspect of Pyongyang’s governance that probably attracts Trump is its overemphasis on the military. North Korea devotes 34% of its gross domestic product to military spending (compared to Russia at 6% and the United States at under 4%). Although it hasn’t launched any wars of its own for more than 75 years, Pyongyang has dispatched thousands of troops to help fight Russia’s war in Ukraine. Since the 1990s, the government has spoken of a songun—military first—doctrine to justify the sacrifices made to maintain a huge standing army, a range of missiles, and a small but significant nuclear arsenal.
Trump is guiding the United States toward the kind of triple whammy that hit North Korea in the 1990s, when environmental disasters and political criminality combined with rising energy prices to bring its manufacturing and agricultural sectors to a virtual halt, while killing an estimated 1 million people.
Similarly, the prevailing theme of Trump’s second term has been war and military spending. Despite his once-upon-a-time promises not to become involved in “forever wars,” particularly in the Middle East, Trump joined Israel this year in an attack on Iran, a conflict that cost over $11 billion in its first week alone. He has proposed an astonishing $1.5 trillion military budget, an increase of 50% over last year’s already bloated total, and that sum doesn’t even include the costs of the Iran War.
Then there’s Trump’s economic thinking, if you can call it that. He has repudiated the free market orthodoxy of his fellow Republicans to embrace a form of economic nationalism: high tariff walls to reduce trade imbalances, a focus on rebuilding American manufacturing, and the repudiation of international rules of the road (like the United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea) in order to drive a dagger into economic globalization. In such respects, Trump’s approach resembles North Korea’s path of import substitution and defiance of the international rule of law.
In North Korea’s case, such an economic strategy has been partly born of necessity, given the economic embargo imposed on it after the Korean War of the early 1950s. Trump, however, is steering the US economy into a tailspin without provocation. If you add together the costs associated with his kamikaze tariffs, the follow-on effects of the Iran War and boosts in military spending, the gutting of government programs investing in the economy, the watering down of environmental regulations, and reductions in government revenue because of tax cuts, Trump is guiding the United States toward the kind of triple whammy that hit North Korea in the 1990s, when environmental disasters and political criminality combined with rising energy prices to bring its manufacturing and agricultural sectors to a virtual halt, while killing an estimated 1 million people.
But, you might point out, Wall Street is still on an upward ascent. The US economy is still growing, however modestly, and, while US food insecurity is rising, famine isn’t on the horizon. To return to the airplane analogy, the in-flight experience has become more uncomfortable for those who can’t afford business class, but that doesn’t mean a crash is imminent.
Or does it?
Whether he is consciously modeling his efforts on North Korea or not, Donald Trump wants to make an indelible imprint on the United States. He aspires to fundamentally change the demographics of the country, the structure of the economy, and the nature of its politics. To do that, he aims to ensure that his MAGA personality cult, his anti-government crusade, and his self-defeating economic policies outlive his own tenure in office. That will certainly require a substantial dismantling of democratic safeguards given that such policies don’t attract majority support.
In other words, much as Kim Il Sung destroyed anything that could have challenged his authority—the church, the intelligentsia, landowners, rival political factions—Trump has now launched a scorched-earth policy to ensure that his successors can’t undo his damage. If the Democrats regain Congress in November and even the White House in 2028, they will inherit an enormous bill for Trump-era damages (and count on a chorus of Republican voices improbably blaming them for the disaster).
Any incoming reformers will face an uphill battle to convince the public to restore funding for infrastructure, whether green or otherwise. And they will have to deal with a terrifying erosion of faith in government, resulting from the incompetence, lies, and malpractice of the Trump administration. At the international level, US allies will think twice about concluding any deals with this country, given the possibility of another political swing in subsequent elections.
If Trumpism can be likened to a devastating depression (which it could still precipitate), the obvious recourse for any successor would be to embark on an immediate course correction comparable to President Franklin D. Roosevelt’s New Deal.
Trump’s tactics, in other words, are designed to make a soft landing ever more difficult. An inveterate gambler, he is betting that his extreme approach will enable Air America to climb into the very stratosphere, even if he is far more likely to force an emergency landing.
Nightmare scenarios have long haunted American consciousness. The sheer size of the US debt—at nearly $40 trillion, it’s the highest absolute amount in the world—could put the country into receivership if the dollar slips from its status as the global currency. Default could tear apart an already polarized society. Such a hard landing could look like what analysts of North Korea have often predicted for that country.
But North Korea hasn’t collapsed. With its considerable resources, surely the United States, too, can avoid such a scenario.
True, no one is going to make any money at Polymarket predicting the imminent fall of the Kim regime. But North Korea is not exactly following a recipe for long-term success either. Even if it limps along for another decade or two, with leadership passing to Kim Jong Un’s teenage daughter, any country that follows its policies of personality cult, autarkic economic policies, massive corruption, military-first approaches, and ruthless suppression of dissent is not likely to prosper over the long term. Just look at how Vladimir Putin has steered Russia into a terrifying nosedive.
Substantial reform could head off such a scenario for the United States. If Trumpism can be likened to a devastating depression (which it could still precipitate), the obvious recourse for any successor would be to embark on an immediate course correction comparable to President Franklin D. Roosevelt’s New Deal. Whatever it’s called—not a Green New Deal, given the irrational resistance of a large section of the US electorate to anything “green” except greenbacks—such an American renewal plan would need to restructure the US economy to favor the bulk of American workers rather than the current generation of robber barons. Implemented with a much better promotional campaign—led perhaps by future Chief of Reconstruction (and now New York Mayor) Zohran Mamdani—it would link concrete benefits to identifiable government programs and services. It would offer a striking real-life illustration of your tax dollars at work.
Such a reform plan would have to restore trust in government by punishing corruption, enlisting the public as watchdogs, and taxing the super-wealthy into semi-submission. By shifting away from war and aggressive military spending, such a project of renewal would also have to work with partners overseas to promote policies of cooperative prosperity and sustainability in order to restore a measure of trust in US actions globally. Soft landings require soft power, leaving hard power to those determined to crash and burn.
The North Korean case is a reminder that awful policies may not themselves precipitate collapse. Trumpism will not go away simply because it is on the verge of winning multiple Darwin Awards for its counter-evolutionary policies. Having hijacked American democracy, Trump and his cronies are under the impression that they are flying ever upward, but they have not been blessed with a good sense of direction. Sheer inertia could keep Air America in the air—though with steadily deteriorating conditions on board (as in North Korea). Such a “MAGA ‘til we drop” option would not be much of an improvement over a hard landing.
In 2016, arch-conservative Michael Anton published a piece in the Claremont Review of Books arguing that it was Hillary Clinton and the Democrats who had hijacked America. In “The Flight 93 Election,” Anton imagined that Trump, aided by an energized electorate, could rush the cockpit—just like the passengers on Flight 93, hijacked on September 11, 2001— and save the country. (It was certainly an infelicitous analogy, given that Flight 93 crashed into a field in Pennsylvania.) Trump’s 2016 victory, however, turned Anton into a dark prophet and vaulted him into the subsequent administration, despite (or because of) the absurdities of his arguments.
In yet another stomach-churning reversal, Anton’s analogy has now finally become all too applicable. Trump has gained the cockpit not once but twice. Having failed to crash Air America the first time around, he seems determined to put his Flight 93 doctrine of heroic self-destruction into practice today. There is no guarantee that a hard landing can be avoided either now or after his departure from office. But this country, its egalitarian ideals, and its democratic traditions (if not much of its dismal history) are certainly worth fighting for.
We’re losing altitude fast. Elections approach.
Let’s roll.
Given that oil is a depleting, polluting, non-renewable resource, industrial society is due for a reckoning at some point. Will Trump's Iran War finally force us to look down?
Pop culture has long memorialized the Warner Brothers cartoon gag in which Wile E. Coyote, lured by his nemesis the Roadrunner, races off a cliff. Instead of immediately falling, Coyote keeps running, then looks down and realizes there’s nothing beneath him but empty space. His expression turns from anger to panic, whereupon he plummets. Coyote’s belated moment of realization is a trendy metaphor for our response to inevitable, though not yet fully realized, consequences of foolish behavior.
For the past couple of decades, we at Post Carbon Institute have been pointing out that energy is the basis of the economy, that oil is our foremost energy source, and that a transition to alternative energy sources will necessarily be slow and incomplete. Given that oil is a depleting, polluting, non-renewable resource, industrial society is due for a reckoning at some point. We are all in an extended Wile E. Coyote moment.
But now, as the United States’ war on Iran has set off a global energy crisis, humanity has arrived at a more immediate and critical Coyote moment. The International Monetary Fund (IMF) has issued a report suggesting that continued oil shortages could reduce global economic growth by 2% and raise inflation by 2.3%. Some analysts say the IMF warning is far too weak and that the crisis could trigger a global recession or worse.
Oil is a key ingredient in most consumer products and their packaging; expensive oil therefore translates to price hikes for toys, car parts, electronics, clothing, and more. It powers or is a critical input into essential elements of industrial society, including the food system. And oil moves everything: Global supply chains depend on transportation by truck, rail, ship, and air, and over 90% of transport energy is oil based. That means an extended crisis would likely lead to stagflation, in which the economy is hobbled simultaneously by inflation and slow growth or economic contraction. When prices for food and medicines are eventually impacted, no one will remain unaffected.
America’s status as oil-production king and its cushion of reserves have indeed helped it weather the early stages of the crisis. But the nation won’t be insulated from serious economic damage for long.
However, for the moment, the stock market is hardly signaling imminent economic peril; instead, the Dow Jones is near peak levels. Further, the US, which started the war, seems somewhat spared from its consequences, when compared with many other countries. And oil prices, while higher than before the hostilities, are nowhere near inflation-adjusted historic peaks.
What’s keeping Coyote airborne?
Myanmar, Bangladesh, Slovenia, Sri Lanka, Cambodia, and Vietnam are rationing or restricting the purchasing of fuel. Germany’s Lufthansa airline has cut 20,000 summer flights due to rising fuel costs. The examples could be multiplied: Countries in Asia, Europe, and Africa are already experiencing symptoms of energy scarcity, while Australia faces dire impacts to its agriculture.
But in America, the worst fallout so far is expensive gasoline. Before the first attacks on Tehran in late February, the average price of gas in the US was $2.98 a gallon. It’s now above $4—a political worry for the president and other Republicans, but a price that’s not quite as high as ones motorists faced in the 1970s. US airlines have raised their checked baggage fees in response to higher fuel costs. Yet, otherwise, business hums along more or less as usual. Why have Americans seen so few repercussions?
Two reasons are widely cited. The first is that the US is currently the world’s biggest oil producer and is therefore far less vulnerable to shortages than nations that import most, or all, of their fuel. The second is that the US has the world’s second-largest strategic petroleum reserve (after China), which, in an emergency, can be brought to market to lower prices and avert scarcity.
However, these two pillars of US energy resilience are shaky. First: Even though the United States produces over 13 million barrels of oil per day, it uses almost 20 million barrels. Further, the kinds of oil extracted from American wells are not always the kinds that the nation’s refineries are set up to use. So, oil companies export light crude and import heavier crude to produce the blends of gasoline, diesel, and jet fuel that the US market demands. The result: America is the world’s second-largest oil importer, even though its politicians love to brag about “energy independence.”
Second: Strategic petroleum reserves are only meant to last a relatively brief time. Currently, the US has about 400 million barrels of oil stored in four underground salt caverns along the Gulf of Mexico. That’s 20 days’ worth of total American consumption at current rates. Therefore, the government has limited ability to influence oil prices during a months-long supply crunch.
America’s status as oil-production king and its cushion of reserves have indeed helped it weather the early stages of the crisis. But the nation won’t be insulated from serious economic damage for long.
Oil has been trading at roughly $100 a barrel since the start of hostilities, a price somewhat lower than ones seen in June and July 2022 when Russia invaded Ukraine. The closure of the Strait of Hormuz would intuitively seem a much graver threat to world oil supplies. Given that a fifth of the world’s petroleum flow is now unavailable, why haven’t prices shot even higher?

One factor is the so-called TACO trade. US President Donald Trump has repeatedly shown the tendency to make threats and then back away; hence the meme “Trump Always Chickens Out” (TACO). The term “TACO trade” gained currency during 2025, when the president announced steep tariffs, then canceled or moderated them, ostensibly to leave time for negotiations but also perhaps in response to negative impacts those announcements had on stock prices (stock market activity appears to influence Donald Trump’s behavior more than most other factors). Savvy stock traders learned that if, instead of taking Trump’s most belligerent threats seriously, they bet against price dips, they could make more money.
We’re all dancing somewhere off the end of history’s biggest cliff, sensing that something isn’t quite right but blaming that sensation on people whose politics we disagree with.
The TACO trade has also followed Trump’s recent statements about the Iran War. When he said, in a late-night Truth Social post, that “a whole civilization will die tonight, never to be brought back again” if a deal to reopen the Strait of Hormuz was not immediately reached, many oil traders sat tight, assuming Trump would renege on his threat. He did. If Trump’s backdowns happen on a Tuesday, as on April 21, the internet explodes with “TACO Tuesday” comments.
However, the longer the crisis drags on, the harder real shortages will bite oil-importing economies worldwide. And there are reasons to expect the impasse between the US and Iran to continue. Trump’s instinct is to bully and bluster, but every time he attacks Iran or threatens to do so, oil prices rise (despite the muting effect of the TACO trade) and the stock market dips. Both trends are political kryptonite. However, it would be even worse politically for Trump if he were to accede to a long-term Iranian peace deal that looks like a defeat for America. So, the standoff persists, with the Strait of Hormuz blocked, 20% of world oil supplies offline, and the global economy held hostage.
The strait has been closed for over two months. Analysts say that if it remains shut to tanker traffic for months longer, oil prices could soar to $200, which would almost surely send the global economy into contraction.
An acute Wile E. Coyote moment is also happening in global stock markets. Many people (including most investors) tend to think of stock prices as a barometer of the overall soundness of the economy. Others disagree, pointing out that stock prices just measure future profit expectations of listed companies, not current employment or wages, much less the health of the biosphere. Further, stock ownership is highly concentrated, so market booms often benefit only the wealthy. Nevertheless, the opinions of the rich tend to be amplified throughout society, so even many non-investors watch the Dow Jones and S&P 500. And, despite the Iran war and resulting higher oil prices, and despite warnings from experts about rising fertilizer costs and the possibility of global food shortages, the Dow seems to be doing just fine. The major market indexes dipped significantly between late February and late March but have recovered since then and are once again near record highs.
The market’s resilience is puzzling for another reason as well. Most investment action during the past couple of years has centered on artificial intelligence (AI). Nvidia, which makes computer chips for AI, is now the world’s most valuable company by market capitalization, even though the AI industry is struggling to be profitable. Many analysts say that AI is a classic financial bubble—and a historically big one.
So, are investors stupid, or what? A more nuanced take might be that they exhibit herd mentality, and that they tend to chase short-term profits, hoping to sell shares just before prices plunge.
Here’s another factor. According to some analysts, the markets are simply high on cash. Governments created enormous amounts of money to stanch problems created by the Global Financial Crisis of 2008 and the Covid-19 epidemic, and much of that money eventually found its way to investors. When the US federal government racks up giant fiscal deficits, it is creating new money, much of which winds up inflating bubbles.
In short, the market runs on investor sentiment, which is now detached from both consumer sentiment and business prospects—as well as from long-term biophysical reality.
But sooner or later, reality imposes itself.

In the cartoon, it’s not until Coyote looks down that he realizes his predicament. This sudden awareness triggers his fall.
Of course, in the real world, temporary ignorance can’t cancel gravity. Actual coyotes don’t hover until they glance groundward. However, the human economy can do something like that—because it’s a hybrid of a real-world component comprised of energy and material flows (which ultimately depend on nature), and an imaginary-world component comprised of money, prices, hype, and speculation. This hybrid semi-reality can run up ecological deficits and undermine the conditions of life for future generations while still maintaining affluence and entertainment for hundreds of millions of mostly clueless people. For now.
It’s our bigger, longer-playing Coyote moments to which we should be paying most attention—climate change, resource depletion, chemical pollution, and the disappearance of wild nature. Markets and prices are of little help in shifting our awareness in that direction: Cutting down an old-growth forest for timber can result in corporate profits and a bump in GDP, but the human and environmental impacts that will linger for generations don’t figure into this quarter’s P&L reports. We’re all dancing somewhere off the end of history’s biggest cliff, sensing that something isn’t quite right but blaming that sensation on people whose politics we disagree with. We do anything we can to avoid looking down.
Returning to the main subject of this article: Will oil prices skyrocket? Will Trump continue to TACO? Will the economy crater? Or will the US and Iran reach a deal and open the strait, so that normalcy can resume? Your guess is as good as anyone’s. But if you’re starting to have nagging worries, you’re not crazy and you’re not alone. Do something. Plant a vegetable garden. Talk to your neighbors about sharing tools and skills. Examine your oil dependency and see how you can reduce it. Imagine how your life might look if the economy were smaller, not bigger, and start making adjustments. Most of all, focus on building community with those around you.
The labor that sustains human life gets pushed to the margins, while the labor that scales software gets paraded on magazine covers.
A few days ago, I stared at a federal bar chart on my laptop and felt my stomach drop. I started asking people a party-trick question: What’s the biggest occupation in America? Almost everyone guessed something visible: teachers, retail, fast food, office work. That’s what our culture trains us to notice.
Then I pulled up the Bureau of Labor Statistics’ (BLS) “largest occupations” data, and the answer was sitting there in plain English: Home Health and Personal Care Aides, 3,988,140 people.
I’m not reading that as an abstract statistic but something I see daily through my work in running CareYaya, a social enterprise that helps families find affordable in-home care support. I hear the voices behind those numbers every day: the exhausted daughter trying to keep her job, the older man determined to stay in his own house, the care aide who shows up anyway even when her own life is fraying.
What hit me wasn’t just the size of the workforce, but the silence with which society treats caregivers.
Care work sits at the intersection of everything America avoids looking at directly: aging, disability, dependence, death, and the truth that every “independent” adult is one accident, cancer, or dementia diagnosis away from needing help.
In a country that can’t stop talking about “the economy,” I rarely see the economy described the way it actually functions at street level. I see caregivers keeping older adults safe so that family members can work, so the bills get paid, so other industries keep humming. I see care work acting like the hidden scaffolding under everything else.
And, I see how quickly that scaffolding gets treated as disposable labor.
When I talk to families, they often whisper about their difficulties getting care support almost like they’re confessing a moral failure. “We’re trying,” they tell me, as if the need for help is some private weakness instead of a predictable part of aging or serious illness. When I talk to care aides, they talk about the stress from the care work. They talk about rushing between clients. They talk about loving the work and sometimes still not being able to make rent.
PHI’s snapshot of the direct care workforce puts numbers to what I keep hearing, that median annual earnings for direct care workers were just $25,015. I read that figure and think about what it really means in 2026 America: The largest job category in the nation is, effectively, a low-wage backbone.
I also think about who gets stuck holding the bag. Care work is still treated as “women’s work” in the cultural imagination, and that bias leaks into policy, pay, and prestige. I watch the same pattern repeat: The labor that sustains human life gets pushed to the margins, while the labor that scales software gets paraded on magazine covers.
What makes me angrier is that this isn’t a small sector we can ignore until later. The BLS projects 17% growth from 2024 to 2034 for home health and personal care aides, with about 765,800 openings each year on average. This is not a “future” problem but rather a present problem that is going to grow much worse, faster.
And yet I keep watching public conversations drift toward fantasy. I hear endless speculation about AI replacing workers, while the largest workforce in America can’t even get a stable ladder, a living wage, or basic respect. I hear investors pitch “aging tech” like it’s a consumer gadget category, while the core issue is whether a real human being can afford to do this work and stay in it.
I don’t think this is an accident, but rather, a choice embedded in our system.
Care work sits at the intersection of everything America avoids looking at directly: aging, disability, dependence, death, and the truth that every “independent” adult is one accident, cancer, or dementia diagnosis away from needing help. So we do what societies often do with uncomfortable truths. We outsource them, we underpay them, and we call them “personal responsibility.”
Even the funding structure says it all. Medicaid is the main payer of long-term services and supports in the US, and a recent Centers for Medicaid and Medicare Services brief says so plainly: “Medicaid is the largest payer for long-term services and supports (LTSS) in the United States.” I read that line and think about the whiplash families face when they confront a vast public health need paired with political rhetoric that treats caregivers and recipients like line items to be squeezed.
So when I’m asked what to do, I start with a moral stance and then I get practical.
I want a country that pays the people who keep elders safe, like they truly matter. I want Medicaid rates and payment models that stop forcing providers into churn, and stop forcing workers into poverty. I want training and advancement pathways for care workers, and I want the caregiving workforce to have real power: bargaining power, scheduling power, and dignity at work.
I also want us to stop acting surprised when the care workforce pipeline breaks. If the biggest job in America is care, then the “care crisis” isn’t a niche issue, but a core labor rights issue; a public investment issue; and an economic issue that’s as critical as housing, wages, and healthcare.
When I look back at that BLS bar chart, I don’t see a pop-quiz type question anymore. I see millions of workers holding up millions of families. I see the work that makes the rest of American life possible.
And I can’t unsee the insult of how little we talk about it.
If I want anything from readers, it’s this: I want you to say the name of the job out loud, and then demand that we build an economy that treats it as essential, because it is.
If he doesn’t believe he’s my president, why should I treat him as my president and watch his State of the Union?
I’m not going to watch the State of the Union address Tuesday night. I urge you not to, either.
I hope Nielsen (or whoever makes such estimates these days) will find that far fewer Americans watched President Donald Trump’s State of the Union than have watched any other State of the Union in recent memory. It will drive Trump nuts.
There are plenty of other reasons for not watching.
First, he doesn’t deserve our attention. He’s abused and defiled the American presidency, even worse than he did in his first term.
I already know the real state of the union. It sucks.
He’s openly taken bribes. He’s blatantly usurped the powers of Congress. He has overtly used the Justice Department to punish people he considers his enemies and pardon people loyal to him. He has willfully rejected the rule of law, broken treaties, literally destroyed part of the White House, thumbed his nose at our allies (including our closest and heretofore loyal neighbors), and utterly failed his constitutional duty to take care that the laws are faithfully executed. He lies like most people breathe. He’s a fraud and a traitor.
Second, we already know what he’s going to say because he’s already stated and restated his lies every chance he gets. He says the economy is in wonderful shape, that he’s settled six wars, that he’s brought peace to the Middle East, that he’s made America safer and more secure, that the 2020 election was stolen from him, ad nauseam.
He assumes that if he repeats these lies often enough, people will believe them. Why should we give him more of an audience for his lies?
Third, he refuses to be president of the United States but only of the people who voted for him in 2024.
He talks in glowing terms about “my” people while denigrating “them”—those of us who didn’t vote for him, who still disapprove of him, or who refuse to give him whatever he wants.
He won’t even fund so-called blue states. So far this year he’s axed over $1.5 billion in blue-state grants, contrary to the wishes of Congress.
If he doesn’t believe he’s my president, why should I treat him as my president and watch his State of the Union?
Fourth and finally, I already know the real state of the union. It sucks.
The economy has been good for big business and wealthy Americans but shitty for small businesses and average working Americans.
Although Trump repeatedly promised that his tariffs would reduce US imports, shrink the trade deficit, and lead to a revival in American manufacturing, the opposite has happened. The annual trade deficit in goods last year hit a record high. And US manufacturers cut 108,000 jobs.
In the 2024 election, Trump also promised to bring down prices, but inflation is still steaming ahead. Prices grew at an annual rate of 3% in December. He’s so out of touch with what most Americans are enduring that he calls the crisis of affordability “fake news.”
He promised to control immigration, but 6 out of 10 Americans think he’s gone “too far” by sending federal agents into American cities who have caused mayhem and murder.
He promised to avoid foreign entanglements, but he abducted the president of Venezuela, killed more than 150 Venezuelans, and is now planning to attack Iran.
His menacing the Middle East has created another inflation risk: The possibility that a key oil export route will be disrupted has caused the price of Brent crude to soar.
For all these reasons, I’m not going to watch Trump’s State of the Union. I recommend that you don’t, either.
Your senators and representatives in Congress should boycott it, too. You might call their offices to suggest this. (Some Democrats are already planning to skip it, opting instead for a counter-programming event on the National Mall dubbed “The People’s State of the Union.” Good!)
And why the hell should justices of the Supreme Court show up, especially after he says he’s “ashamed” of the six who decided his tariffs exceeded his authority—calling the three Democratic appointees a “disgrace to our nation” and the three conservatives who voted against him “fools and lapdogs for the RINOs and the radical left Democrats,” “very unpatriotic and disloyal to our Constitution,” “swayed by foreign interests,” and “an embarrassment to their families”?
Boycott the State of the Union. It’s the least we can do.
"The Fed's continued high interest rates saddle people with debt, lock them out of the housing market, and threaten their jobs," said Rakeen Mabud of the Groundwork Collaborative.
The top economist at a progressive watchdog organization said Wednesday that the Federal Reserve has supplanted inflation as the greatest danger to the U.S. economy after new data from the Bureau of Labor Statistics showed that the Consumer Price Index fell below 3% last month—the first time it has done so since 2021.
"Inflation is no longer the biggest threat to the economy, the Fed is," said Groundwork Collaborative chief economist Rakeen Mabud, citing the central bank's persistent refusal to cut interest rates in the face of glaring warning signs throughout the U.S. economy, from the worsening housing crisis to slowing job growth. Housing costs accounted for "nearly 90% of the monthly increase" in consumer prices, according to the Bureau of Labor Statistics.
"The Fed's continued high interest rates saddle people with debt, lock them out of the housing market, and threaten their jobs," Mabud said Wednesday. "The Federal Reserve should hold an emergency meeting and cut rates immediately."
The Fed's current target interest rate range is at a 23-year high of 5.25% to 5.5%, where it has been kept for the past 12 months despite mounting calls for rate cuts from progressive lawmakers and economists as inflation continues to decline from its peak of 9.1% in June 2022.
"The Federal Reserve made a massive mistake in not cutting rates in July."
Rep. Brendan Boyle (D-Pa.), the ranking member of the House Budget Committee, said in a statement Wednesday that "the evidence is clear: Inflation is falling and wages are rising."
"It's past time for the Fed to secure this progress and begin lowering interest rates," Boyle added.
The next official two-day meeting of the Fed's policy-setting panel, the Federal Open Market Committee (FOMC), is scheduled for September 17-18. After Wednesday's inflation reading, the central bank is widely expected to enact a small rate cut at its September meeting, which will be held less than two months before the presidential election.
Donald Trump, the Republican nominee, has openly warned Powell against cutting rates prior to the election, apparently fearing the move would help Democrats.
Democratic lawmakers, for their part, have argued that a failure to cut rates "would indicate that the Fed is giving in to bullying" and "succumbing to political threats," as Sens. Elizabeth Warren (D-Mass.), John Hickenlooper (D-Colo.), and Sheldon Whitehouse (D-R.I.) put it in a
letter to Powell last month.
In an op-ed for Common Dreams last week, Mabud of the Groundwork Collaborative wrote that "the Federal Reserve made a massive mistake in not cutting rates in July."
"Powell himself has admitted that interest rate hikes can't tackle the supply-side issues at the root of today's inflation," Mabud wrote. "And now the data are clear that he is taking the economy to the brink, despite low inflation and rising unemployment."
"Making people walk an economic tightrope is not the path forward to a healthy economy," she added. "The Fed has a dual mandate to maintain stable prices and full employment. It's time for the Fed to take that mandate seriously and make a large and immediate emergency rate cut."
Democrats have handled the economy better than Republicans since at least 1949.
A study published by the Economic Policy Institute on Tuesday finds that the U.S. economy does better when a Democrat is in the White House than when a Republican is in charge.
The study looked at GDP growth, job growth, inflation-adjusted wage growth, the unemployment rate, and more. It found that Democrats have had an economic advantage since at least 1949.
"This Democratic advantage is across the board in all variables we measure but strongest in private-sector outcomes—notably, business investment, job growth, and the growth of market-based incomes," it says.
The US economy performs much better during Democratic presidential administrations than during Republican ones, according to a new report from EPI's @joshbivens_DC https://t.co/LN0cnSjKwI pic.twitter.com/29zEcZXrKD
— Economic Policy Institute (@EconomicPolicy) April 2, 2024
The study shows there is a "pronounced Democratic advantage in nearly every measure of macroeconomic performance." Despite this, the study notes that Republicans are typically seen as better at managing the economy in opinion polls.
"It is difficult to tell what respondents to opinion polls have in mind when they are asked about 'the economy.' For example, respondents often rate the Republican party higher as economic managers yet rate the Democratic party more highly on issues related to healthcare," the study says. "But healthcare is, by far, the single largest sector of the U.S. economy, affecting economic outcomes of households, businesses, and governments in significant ways."
The study also found that economic gains are "distributed substantially more equally" when a Democrat is in the White House.
The study notes that not all of the economic figures can be attributed to policy, as some of it is simply luck, but the trend appears to be that the economy does better overall when a Democrat is president.
"One would expect that the large role of chance would (almost by definition) cut uniformly across the partisan composition of presidential administrations. And yet the Democratic advantage in economic performance by partisan control of the presidency is striking," the study says.
The increased frequency of natural disasters caused by climate change is having major economic effects, according to reinsurance company Swiss Re.
The climate crisis is already having a major impact on the U.S. economy, and the damages are only going to increase.
A new report from the reinsurance company Swiss Re estimates climate change is currently costing the U.S. roughly $97 billion per year. This cost comes from the increased frequency of natural disasters that are connected to climate change, which is driven by the burning of fossil fuels.
"Climate change is leading to more severe weather events, resulting in increasing impact on economies," said the Swiss Re group's chief economist Jerome Jean Haegeli. "Therefore, it becomes even more crucial to take adaptation measures."
Swiss Re looked at data from 2022 and analyzed the impact of natural disasters on the GDP of 36 countries, including the U.S., to establish its findings. The report focused on the effects of floods, tropical cyclones, winter storms, and severe thunderstorms.
While the effects of climate change on the U.S. economy were significant, the country that was most affected by it was the Philippines. The report says climate change impacted 3% of the country's GDP. The U.S. saw a 0.4% impact on its yearly economic output.
The report states that all countries must do whatever possible to reduce greenhouse gas emissions to help lessen the potential economic costs of climate change-related natural disasters. It says countries must also better prepare for the effects of climate change to reduce these costs.
One effect of climate change, increased heatwaves, was not factored into this report. A study from 2022 found that human-caused increases in heatwaves potentially cost the global economy over $29 trillion between 1992 and 2013.
Some experts have suggested the effects of climate change are actually costing the U.S. over $120 billion per year. While there's no universally agreed upon number, it's clear that the costs of the climate crisis are high, and they'll only increase as it gets worse. Decarbonizing the economy isn't a cheap endeavor, but letting climate change spiral out of control would have much more dire economic effects.
"They don't care about breaking the institutions, breaking the economy," said Rep. Ro Khanna.
Democratic Rep. Ro Khanna of California said Tuesday that House Republicans are threatening to "hijack the entire U.S. economy" and "subject it to collapse" in pursuit of cuts to Social Security and other right-wing policy goals, a warning that came as the Treasury Department prepared to take emergency measures to prevent the U.S. from breaching the debt ceiling.
"This is what the House Freedom Caucus wants," Khanna said in an appearance on Democracy Now!, referring to the far-right faction of House Republicans pushing to use the debt ceiling as leverage to enact deep cuts to federal spending—a strategy that Speaker Kevin McCarthy (R-Calif.) has embraced.
"The consequence of that is also a massive default of the U.S. economy and higher interest rates, probably a severe recession, and jolting the global economy," added Khanna, who stressed his support for expanding rather than cutting Social Security. "But they don't care. They don't care about breaking the institutions, breaking the economy."
Watch:
Khanna's remarks came days after Treasury Secretary Janet Yellen announced her agency will begin taking certain "extraordinary measures" this week to prevent the U.S. from breaking through the debt ceiling, an arbitrary—and arguably unconstitutional—borrowing limit set by Congress that dictates how much the federal government can borrow to meet its obligations, which include Social Security and Medicare benefits.
If lawmakers fail to raise the borrowing limit due to GOP obstruction and the Biden administration refuses to take unilateral action, the U.S. could default on its debt, an unprecedented outcome that would carry far-reaching and devastating economic consequences such as the potential loss of millions of jobs.
The Washington Post reported Friday that House Republicans—who have repeatedly pledged to exploit a coming debt ceiling fight to secure Social Security cuts—are already "preparing a plan telling the Treasury Department what to do if Congress and the White House don't agree to lift the nation's debt limit later this year."
"The plan, which was previously unreported, was part of the private deal reached this month to resolve the standoff between House conservatives and Rep. Kevin McCarthy (R-Calif.) over the election of a House speaker," the newspaper continued. "Rep. Chip Roy (R-Texas), a leading conservative who helped broker the deal, told The Washington Post that McCarthy agreed to pass a payment prioritization plan by the end of the first quarter of the year."
"The emerging contingency plan shows how Republicans are preparing to threaten to not lift the nation’s debt ceiling without major spending cuts from the Biden administration," the Post added. "Congress must pass a law raising the current limit of $31.4 trillion or the Treasury Department can't borrow anymore, even to pay for spending lawmakers have already authorized."
In a blog post on Tuesday, former U.S. Labor Secretary Robert Reich argued that the GOP agreement outlined by the Post "could be the most economically irresponsible backroom deal in Republican history (even conservative economists are warning that the consequences could include a stock-market spiral and significant job losses)."
"Congress could defuse this bomb by simply raising the debt limit, as it has dozens of times under presidents of both parties for decades," Reich wrote. "But the MAGA radicals now in control of the House of Representatives are refusing to raise the debt ceiling unless President Biden agrees to devastating cuts to Social Security, Medicare, and other key programs."
President Joe Biden has said he would not accept any cuts to Social Security or Medicare, a promise the White House reiterated on Friday.
"This should be done without conditions," White House Press Secretary Karine Jean-Pierre said of lifting the debt ceiling—something Republicans readily did when Donald Trump was president.
"There's going to be no negotiation over it," Jean-Pierre added. "This is something that must get done."
Biden previously indicated that he—unlike Yellen—would not support a complete elimination of the debt ceiling, raising questions about what executive steps the White House would be willing to take in the case of a perilous impasse in Congress.
The American Prospect's Robert Kuttner wrote in a column Tuesday that it is time for the White House to "call a halt to this whole game."
"As a number of legal scholars, led by Garrett Epps, have pointed out, the 14th Amendment explicitly dispenses with the need for a separate vote on increasing the debt. Section 4 provides that 'the validity of the public debt of the United States... shall not be questioned,'" Kuttner noted. "Biden could announce that he is not going to play the Republicans' game and relitigate spending that has already been approved by Congress. The Republicans would contend that this breaching of the legislated debt ceiling is illegal, and appeal it to the high court."
"By refusing to play," Kuttner added. "Biden would signal that if Kevin McCarthy wants to tank the world economy by allowing the U.S. to default on Treasury bonds, that's on him."
While acknowledging that such a "hardball" strategy would come with risks, Kuttner argued that "allowing McCarthy to call the tune, forcing disabling budget cuts and humiliating Biden's presidency, has even greater risks."