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    The not-so secret language of fascist fashion

    Fascism is back in style. Forget the old symbols: swastikas, nooses, Confederate flags, skinheads’ shaved heads and combat boots. Extremism has a new look, and it is as fashionable as ever.Today’s extremist styles are more diverse and more subtle. Beyond T-shirts that advertise blatant racism, polo shirts with coded symbols create a shared in-group identity and signal support of violence to other believers. Tradwife-style prairie dresses and beauty regimens promote conservative visions of family. Clothing is a powerful tool to spread fascist ideas to promote authoritarianism and recruit new members to this cause.The far right’s weaponization of fashion to advance hateful ideas is not new. Fascist movements have long understood the power of aesthetics. In 1920s Italy, Benito Mussolini harnessed black shirts and the ancient Roman symbol of the fasces (a bundle of sticks with an axe, which stands for power and authority) to build his power and his brand. German clothier Hugo Boss, a card-carrying Nazi, produced the uniforms of the Schutzstaffel (SS) paramilitary and the Hitler Youth. Hate came with a slick, tailored look. In the US, the white robes of the Ku Klux Klan and burning crosses have long been trademarks of white supremacy. In the 1980s, the original fascists’ skinhead successors appropriated and repurposed bomber jackets, shaved heads and combat boots as their distinct form of military-ish chic.View image in fullscreenNow, welcome to fascist fashion 3.0. The aesthetics of modern-day extremists are far reaching and mainstream. Even more so since 2017 and the “Unite the Right” rally in Charlottesville, Virginia, fascist fashion – or fascion (an amalgam of “fashion” and “fascism”) – is now at your fingertips. Right-wing groups have their own labels, co-opt pre-existing fashion brands and hawk their wares online via TikTok and eBay.Much of this ideological apparel can evade notice – if you are not in the know. Instead of blunt hate-filled slogans, the far right uses language like “my favorite color is white” and “defending our culture” – vague messages that could be interpreted in different ways and offer plausible deniability (however tenuously, because who is the “we” and what “culture” is under siege and in need of protection? And nationalist rhetoric has long been a favorite tool of the right).Coded visual elements and references are instrumental to conveying the message, to those who know how to read it. Use of specific fonts associated with the Nazi regime or those that look faintly Germanic – with dark, peaked letters – help groups to embed their ideology in what seems like innocent slogans or visual cues.Sometimes, the references come from other cultures or subcultures; today’s reactionaries reference Nordic symbols and imagery of “Valhalla”, as a nod to an imaginary past of white, hypermasculine Europe (FBI director Kash Patel’s recent promise to see slain conservative activist Charlie Kirk in Valhalla raised eyebrows). Gaming memes such as “Pepe the Frog”, which the alt-right has appropriated to convey antisemitic sentiments, also find their way into clothing.Sometimes the messages are even more coded. A T-shirt at a Nationals game with the number 88 and the word “nationalist” above it might not draw attention, but the combination is a celebration of a neo-Nazi sentiment (88 is a well-known white supremacist numerical code for “Heil Hitler”; the letter “h” is the eighth letter of the English alphabet, and repeating it twice references the infamous salute).This new fashion no longer seeks to shock or to antagonize, but to appeal to a sense of identity and belonging, said Monica Sklar, associate professor of textiles, merchandising and interiors and curator of the Anne Barge Historic Clothing and Textiles Collection at the University of Georgia. “The idea is not being quite a subculture but to be embedded in the power structure. Instead of coding things to move away from the masses, this fashion is coding things to move into the masses,” and this is a purposeful shift.View image in fullscreenTake, for example, a black polo shirt with white stripes at the hems of the sleeves and collar from the activewear brand Will2Rise. It is sold under the name “3.0 Perry Polo”, a reference to the famous British brand Fred Perry, whose black and yellow design was “hijacked” by the far-right group Proud Boys since its founding in 2016. (In 2020, Fred Perry discontinued the model as a result). In the Will2Rise version, Fred Perry’s logo of golden laurels is replaced with a modern design of the white supremacist Patriot Front logo, which depicts an upright fasces surrounded by a circle.While valorization of masculine power and fitness is an important part of this new aesthetics, women – who are traditionally associated with fashion and adornment – also have a role in shaping the look. Adhering to traditional ideas of gender, the new Republican look of extreme plastic surgery and heavy makeup combines with tradwives’ 1950s dress silhouettes of cinched waists and flowery patterns to celebrate hyperfemininity.These styles not only allow their wearers to blend in, but they also play a role in normalizing an aesthetics of radicalism and violence. Sociologist and American University professor Cynthia Miller-Idriss, who studies extremism and polarization, has written that “it is simply much harder to recognize ideas as hateful when they come in an aesthetic package that doesn’t fit the image people hold in their heads about what white supremacists look like”. When the radical right looks like the mythical boy and girl next door, it’s hard to know who can be a threat.View image in fullscreenBut it is exactly this quality that enables extremist fashion to glide into the mainstream. Slogans like “White Life Matters” and other iconography found today on clothing and bumper stickers are reflecting sentiments that started much further to the right. Some of the symbols we see, like an image of a US flag where the stripes are made of machine guns, originated in the militia movement. By the time these items are circulating in the market, the message has been repackaged and toned down by a hair, but the ideas behind the symbols are the same.This is all part of the fashion cycle.To be sure, not every conservative or offensive outfit is fascist. Indeed, the lines between hate speech and hyperpatriotism can be blurry. As Sklar points out, “in the US, subcultural dress is much subdued, much more piecemeal,” and thus harder to define or recognize. Moreover, the wearer of these more mainstream, watered-down versions of fascist messages is not always aware of their extreme origins. However, sometimes, this fashionable choice is deliberate, and the decision of whether to expose it as such can entail great risks.To make things more complicated, as more extreme fashions migrate into the mainstream, we are becoming more desensitized to the ideas they represent. Fascism becomes a selling point with a commercial value. The Florida GOP is selling “Alligator Alcatraz” merch without fear of censure. If only a few years ago appealing to racist sentiments might have brought serious public backlash, today campaigns such as Sydney Sweeney’s American Eagle jeans promotion only bring more attention to the company. Even Charlie Kirk’s death became an opportunity; some companies are branding his assassin’s T-shirt as the “Charlie Kirk Land of the Free T-Shirt.”View image in fullscreenFashion is not static. It changes all the time. What used to be in the margins a few years ago are now on trend. Brand identity can also shift. While in 2020, a Maga hat or a tradwife aesthetics would not be registered as fascist, by 2025, with Trump’s actions and statements becoming increasingly more authoritarian, those styles gain new meaning.Moreover, the Trump administration’s adoption of not only the Maga styles but those of the far right, aids in the shifting of the brand. Pete Hegseth, the secretary of defense, wears tattoos that are associated with white supremacy. When Ice agents storm the streets of big cities with their ski masks, bullet-proof vests, and khakis, they often look more like the Patriot Front or the Three Percenters militia than representatives of the government.View image in fullscreenBut this new visibility also makes it easier to expose the fascism and contradictions behind all the freedom talk. Kristi Noem’s impeccable curly hair extensions and heavy makeup has earned the homeland security secretary the nickname “Ice Barbie”. Her appearance came to define the cruelty of the administration’s immigration policies. As more people associate certain fashions and symbols with actions and policies they oppose, the less appealing they become.Like we learned to recognize the more traditional fascist symbols, we are now learning to identify the new visual language of the right. In 1935, Sinclair Lewis warned in his novel, It Can’t Happen Here, that when fascism comes to the US it won’t look like the European brand. Instead, it would be wrapped in a flag and carrying a cross. In 2025, we also know that it wears a Maga hat and an Ice vest. More

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    ‘We’re fighting for you!’ Podcaster Ben Meiselas on taking on the Maga media – and winning the ratings battle

    Ben Meiselas is a very busy man. So busy, he has to break off halfway through our interview to conduct an interview of his own, for his next broadcast. It’s 7am Los Angeles time when we meet via video call, and Meiselas is already well into another 18-hour day of podcasting, planning, interviewing, meetings and more besides. His “pro-democracy” channel MeidasTouch, which he runs with his younger brothers Jordan and Brett, puts out 15 or more videos a day, most of them presented by Meiselas himself. “I was doing another video before this,” he says, “and so by now I’ve already released one video I did last night, which was my 4am, and now I just worked on my 7am – it’ll get released any minute now. And then I’ll have an 8.30, a 10, an 11.30 …”The prolific output is part of the reason The MeidasTouch has become one of the most listened-to podcasts in the US, routinely beating the mighty Joe Rogan in both video and audio, and even overtaking Fox News in YouTube views. Rogan and others in the right-leaning podcast manosphere are thought to have swung the 2024 election in Donald Trump’s favour, prompting much soul-searching on the American left about its media game, and why they need a Joe Rogan of their own; MeidasTouch seems to have stepped in to fill the void.That void extends far beyond just podcasting, in Meiselas’s view. He is appalled at how the US media has reacted since Trump came to power. “It’s a total capitulation,” he says. “They’re either corporate news – like cable news, [which is] just completely both-sides-ing the issues and intentionally ignoring critical, existential things – or they’re just outright state regime media à la North Korea and Russia: Fox News, OAN [One America News], Newsmax … All of these corporations are run by rightwing oligarchs; they are tools to ingratiate themselves with the regime for other benefits and other business interests.”The spectacle of CEOs and podcast bros alike “kissing the ring” at Trump’s inauguration cemented this impression early on. As counter-programming, Meiselas broadcast four hours of cute puppies and kittens, raising funds for the Humane Society.View image in fullscreenIf the left is looking for its Joe Rogan, though, Meiselas doesn’t quite fit the bill. Where Rogan is casual, rambling and often credulous of his guests’ outlandish claims, Meiselas is focused, well-informed and disdainful. And as you’d expect of a former trial lawyer, he speaks with an off-the-cuff fluency (“no scripts, no notes – that’s part of the connection I build with the audience”), and he brings receipts. If he has a catchphrase, it’s “play this clip” – as he illustrates yet another incidence of Republican duplicity/hypocrisy/incompetence/deception/authoritarianism with video, audio, graphs or data.He can be a level-headed interviewer – this week he has spoken to Democrat leaders Chuck Schumer and Hakeem Jeffries and newly elected congresswoman Adelita Grijalva. (He breaks off from our interview to talk to a former commissioner for the Federal Communications Commission about free speech and media monopolies.) But over the course of a typical episode – which could be a 20-minute solo broadcast or a 90-minute talk with his brothers – he often becomes audibly outraged at what’s going on.Put that all together, and tonally MeidasTouch is somewhere between wartime resistance broadcast and wrestling commentary. Meiselas is not above throwing out insults: the Republican house leader is consistently referred to as “Maga Mike Johnson”, for example, and he is as merciless about Trump’s health as the rightwing media was about Joe Biden’s. He doesn’t hesitate to speak his mind: “What the hell are these people even talking about?” “Stop making up things and defrauding the American people.” “These people are sick.” And MeidasTouch’s episode titles conform to the hyperbolic YouTube vernacular: “Trump is COLLAPSING under SHUTDOWN PRESSURE!!!”, “​​Trump LOOKS AWFUL as PRESSER Goes OFF THE RAILS”. One journalist described MeidasTouch’s commentary as “seemingly calculated to appeal to those for whom [MSNBC host] Rachel Maddow is too subtle.”Meiselas makes no apologies for his house style. “I don’t curse,” he says. “I try to still keep it as much as possible appropriate for everyone. But on the other hand, I think where you have characters who are cartoonishly evil, like Maga Mike Johnson or JD Vance, framing them for the WWE cosplay characters they’ve become is actually an accurate way of describing who they are … I’m just trying to reflect the language of, truthfully, what it is that I’m seeing, and I think the growth of the network is the audience responding: ‘Yes, that’s exactly how I see it.’” He is speaking from the same home office in which his 5.5 million subscribers see him every day; it’s somewhat uncanny – as if I’m watching my own personal episode of his podcast.In his view, it’s other media outlets that are not meeting the moment. “We’re beyond a constitutional crisis. America’s living in a dictatorship right now. And the question is, how will an opposition respond to a dictatorship?” he says. “This is not a time to be playing games. People are waking up every day feeling, and rightfully so, that this is really life or death for them. We’re not talking about abstract concepts. People are saying, ‘I may not be able to afford healthcare and I’m going to die.’ So they don’t want to be lectured about, ‘Well, on the one hand; on the other hand.’ They want to be told directly, ‘What are you going to do to fight for my life? What are you going to do to fight for my healthcare? My community is under attack right now. There are masked agents who are disappearing human beings right here.’ Or, ‘I’m a member of a marginalised group’ – whether it’s a gay person, LGBTQ – ‘and I matter. I’m a human being, damn it.’ I think where we come in, very unapologetically, is we say, ‘We’re fighting for you, and we don’t waver on our values.’”This is what separates his operation from the forces they’re opposing, he says, despite their superficial resemblances. “You have to unite people with empathy and love and community and shared values as a force against the hate.” He’s all for building connections: communally, politically and internationally – given the global rise of far-right politics. “That, to me, is more important than, ‘Am I beating Joe Rogan this week or that week?’”View image in fullscreenMeiselas, 40, didn’t set out to build a media empire, nor did he really have to. Until about 2020 he was a partner in a successful law firm and his career was flying. The legal profession was in his blood, you could say. His mother practised law for a spell; his father, Kenny, is a leading entertainment lawyer whose clients include Lady Gaga, the Weeknd, Nicki Minaj and formerly Sean “Diddy” Combs, who was recently sentenced to more than four years in prison for prostitution-related charges. Meiselas actually interned for Combs’ Bad Boy Records for a few summers in his late teens. A Variety profile from 2019 claimed that Combs “took Meiselas under his wing, resulting in a precocious and priceless apprenticeship”, but he was not part of Diddy’s entourage or witness to any of wrongdoing, he stresses: “I was very low on the totem pole.” He was actually working on Diddy’s Citizen Change initiative, which was about voter registration for young people.He grew up on Long Island, New York, with his two brothers: Brett, who is five years younger, and Jordan, eight years younger. “We always did things together as brothers,” he says. “Like, we made videos, even in the early days of Adobe editing. We would do comedy skits together in the back yard for fun, and we would make movies together for our school projects.” Then, as now, Ben was the leader, it seems. A confident public speaker, he was president of his student government in middle school and high school, and of various undergraduate clubs. In his early 20s he interned on Capitol Hill, for New York Democrat Steve Israel, then for Hillary Clinton when she was a senator. “I would hand her the speeches before she spoke, answer constituent mail, give tours of the Capitol building – which was my favourite part about it.”He was one of the youngest students at law school, in Georgetown, Washington DC, but he only really became enthused when he began studying civil rights law. He was recruited out of college to a small law California firm and “thrown into the fire”, he says. Within three years, still in his mid-20s, he was in court handling significant cases of brutality and wrongful death at the hands of the police (he assisted the Guardian’s reporting on these issues in 2015), and invariably winning them. That led to representing Colin Kaepernick when the San Francisco 49ers quarterback sued the NFL for excluding him for taking a knee, in what seems like a different era (they reached a confidential settlement). He went on to become a business partner with Kaepernick and they remain good friends.View image in fullscreenIn retrospect, it could look as if Meiselas was destined for a career in politics, but it never really appealed. “When I became a civil rights lawyer, I actually started to not like politics, because politicians would start calling me up for money,” he says. “I still, and I say this all the time on the show, don’t like politics. To me, politics distorts from what the human issues really are.” He doesn’t quite rule it out for the future, though. “I can’t imagine it ever happening. I know it sounds like a political answer to say that, but I really have no desire at all.”skip past newsletter promotionafter newsletter promotionIt was during the Covid pandemic in 2020 that Meiselas felt the need to get more politically engaged. Again, he doesn’t mince words. “I thought that Trump was killing people,” he says. “He would do these Covid press conferences, and it would be spewing a bunch of nonsense and disinformation. And me and my brothers were like, ‘Are you watching this? What the hell is going on? We need to do something to call this out.’”At the time Brett was a digital editor for Ellen DeGeneres’ TV show, and Jordan worked in marketing. The brothers began producing anti-Trump videos that started to go viral. One of them, with a #CreepyTrump hashtag, superimposed GOP insider Kellyanne Conway’s comments about Joe Biden being “creepy” over clips of Trump’s inappropriate comments about young women, including his daughter Ivanka. They formed a political action committee, to raise funds for Joe Biden’s campaign, but found simply placing TV attack ads to be unsatisfactory – “You’re renting space on their network, and they’re undermining your message with their both-sides-ism.”Then the January 6 attacks happened, and the brothers decided to start their own podcast in earnest. “We just said, ‘Let’s just put out our own show together, from our living rooms,” Meiselas says. “The quality wasn’t great, but the first podcast we put out, there was a decent-size audience and the feedback was great. And so we’re like, ‘There’s something there.’”Meiselas began phasing out his legal work, and fully quit the day job in 2023. As well as him and his brothers, MeidasTouch now has a whole stable of hosts, including Michael Cohen, Trump’s former lawyer; it produces shows not just on politics but on legal and economic matters. And it is expanding internationally: in September it launched a Canada podcast. “For us, the strategy is just to try to be everywhere,” he says. And not just in the interests of expanding the brand: “It may be important in the future to have international hubs getting out the message, in the event that there’s additional kind of clampdowns here.”There is no shortage of material for anti-Maga podcasting at the moment, but will the world still need such granular focus on day-to-day politics once the Trump era comes to an end in 2028 (assuming it actually does)? Even the podcast bros who supported Trump, including Rogan and Theo Von, are now turning against him over issues such as the Jeffrey Epstein saga and his brutal immigration policies. “I don’t think anybody would have signed up for [this],” Rogan said in July.“I think there’s always going to be a Trump worldview,” says Meiselas, “whether that’s embodied in Trump, or a Maga perspective, or the next generation that’s going to push these ideas. And while we’re often framed as anti-Trump or liberal or left, I don’t see it like that at all. Because to me, it’s what Trump represents, and what he does, that I’m against. It’s that he’s laundering a set of ideas that permeate internationally, that impact you in the UK, in Europe, in South and Central America, in Russia. He is a vehicle and a vessel for these concepts that I think bring us back to the dark ages.”Either way, Meiselas’s 18-hour shifts aren’t going to end any time soon – but he is fine with that, he says. At least he gets to work from home. “When I was a lawyer and I would have trials across the country, I’d be travelling for weeks and months, and I’d be in Utah or New York or San Francisco or wherever,” he says.He married last year and has a baby daughter. “She just turned one, so I’m able to do some videos, I get to walk my little girl up the block, we walk back, I do another video, we have lunch together, I do another video. So for me, it’s actually a blessing.” But he laughs as he admits that he’s never really not working. “Even when I’m doing the walks, I’m always thinking a little bit about what’s next. I’m always trying to make the connections in my mind.”But it doesn’t really feel like work, he says. “I don’t wake up and I’m like, ‘Another day at work …’ I feel a broader sense of this historical moment and where the network fits into it. I feel every day is like, ‘This is what I was meant to do.’” More

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    Mocktails for Maga: why the US right is turning sober

    Butterworth’s, an eclectically decorated restaurant in Washington DC, is an unofficial lounge of the Maga elite. A nameplate on one table declares it the official “nook” of Raheem Kassam, the former adviser to the rightwing British politician Nigel Farage and a co-owner of the restaurant. Steve Bannon is also frequently sighted holding court over Carolina gold rice – though the signature dish is bone-marrow escargot, which some young Maga politicos swear is good for your collagen.When he opened the farm-to-table brasserie in 2024, Bart Hutchins, Butterworth’s chef and one of its partners, was determined to resist what he sees as “the new puritanism” of wellness and sobriety culture. Hutchins finds non-alcoholic “mocktails” annoying on principle. “I did this edict, where I was like, ‘I’m not stocking that stuff,’” he said. “If you want to drink a glass of juice, just ask for a glass of juice; I’m not gonna pretend it’s a cocktail.”Hutchins has never felt teetotalism’s temptation, he told me, and his memory of drinks marketed as alcohol alternatives, like the near-beer O’Doul’s, was that they were “terrible”. But lately, as more Republican staffers, pundits and politicians patronize Butterworth’s antler-bedecked environs, a fifth column of non-drinkers has quietly undermined his anti-mocktail edict.It’s not just at Butterworth’s where rightwingers are drinking less. A Gallup poll in August found that the share of Americans of any political stripe who say they consume alcohol is at its lowest in nearly 90 years – though by only one percentage point. More strikingly, Republicans are the group, of the many demographic cohorts measured, that has turned most aggressively to sobriety.Gallup, which has asked Americans about their alcohol use since the 1930s, found in 2023 that 65% of Republicans said they drink alcohol – about the same as Democrats and independents. Just two years later, in 2025, that number has plunged a staggering 19 points to 46%. Democrats and independents also report drinking less, but each only by single digits. (All the results are self-reported; Gallup took participants at their word.)The decline is surprising and “statistically significant”, Lydia Saad, the director of US social research at Gallup, told me – though she has “no real hypothesis” for the sudden rise of Republican teetotalism.View image in fullscreenLaurence Whyatt, an analyst at Barclays who covers the beverage industry, “can’t explain it” either. He suspects the broader US decline in drinking may have to do with pandemic-era inflation and belt-tightening and may not last. “But there’s no obvious reason why Republicans would be drinking less,” he said. “Of course, I’m aware that some prominent Republicans don’t drink. Could that be the reason?”Yet theories abound. Perhaps this is another manifestation of the cult of personality around Donald Trump, a Diet Coke enthusiast. Maybe the rising tide of Christian nationalism has revived an old-fashioned Protestant temperance. Or perhaps red-blooded rightwingers, eager to “Make America healthy again”, are eschewing beer, barbecues and bourbon to become the sort of smoothie-drinking health nuts they might once have mocked.Prominent rightwing or right-adjacent abstainers include Trump himself, whose older brother died of alcoholism-related heart attack; Robert F Kennedy Jr (who has spoken about his own substance problems); Tucker Carlson (a recovering alcoholic); and the activist Charlie Kirk (for health reasons). JD Vance drinks, but his predecessor Mike Pence, a devout born-again Christian, did not. Joe Rogan, the podcaster and gym-bro whisperer who endorsed Trump in 2024, quit drinking this year for health reasons.“None of my core team [of colleagues] under 30 drinks,” Bannon, who hosts the podcast War Room, said in a text message.The War Room’s 24-year-old White House correspondent, Natalie Winters, does not drink for health reasons – nor wear perfume, consume seed oils or drink fluoridated tap water. Earlier this year a friend of hers told the Times of London that elective sobriety had become common and accepted in rightwing political circles. “Here you don’t second-guess,” the friend said. “In London if someone isn’t drinking, you think they have an alcohol problem. Here it’s either that, or they’re Mormon, or because they’re focused on health.”Carlson, speaking to me by phone as he returned from grouse hunting with his dogs, said he had noticed that young conservatives, particularly men, were far more health-conscious than they once were. When he came up as a journalist, he said, the milieu was awash in booze and cigarette smoke. “I’m just from a different world. When I was 25, the health question was ‘filter or non-filter?’” he said. “And I always went with non-filter.”Carlson quit drinking in 2002, after a spiral whose nadir saw him having two double screwdrivers for breakfast. He said he was surprised – but happy – to see people today, even those who are not problem drinkers, quitting or moderating their consumption. The Athletic Brewing Company’s alcohol-free beers are popular, he has noticed, and not just among “sad rehab cases like me. I think it’s normal young people.”Carlson – who has recently offered a range of unorthodox health advice including using nicotine to improve focus and testicle tanning to improve testosterone levels – says political professionals and journalists today also inhabit a 24/7 news cycle in which “there’s just, substantively, a lot more going on; the world is reshaping in front of our eyes,” he said. “I think there’s an incentive to pay attention in a way that there wasn’t before. It’s just kind of hard to imagine spending three hours away from your phone – or three hours, like, getting loaded midday.”View image in fullscreenHutchins, Butterworth’s chef, noticed when diners, including those he considered “reasonable people, and not insufferable”, kept asking for non-alcoholic options. The restaurant was gradually “brought over to the dark side”, he said, ruefully. He tested a few zero-proof drinks that he deemed respectable enough to serve beside marrow without shame.Many patrons still drink enthusiastically, and by 10pm most nights the atmosphere is “pretty bacchanalian”, he said. But Butterworth’s now offers a pre-packaged alcohol-free Negroni, verjus (a wine alternative made from unripe grapes) and non-alcoholic Guinness (“super popular”, Hutchins said).Changing health attitudes are probably a factor in the broader decline in US alcohol consumption. Recent research has cast doubt on the idea that even moderate drinking is an acceptable health risk. In January, the US surgeon general suggested that alcohol bottles should carry warnings that drinking can contribute to cancer.Malcolm Purinton, a beer historian at Northeastern University, noted that many young people learned adult socialization during Covid lockdowns, meaning their relationship with alcohol may differ from that of their parents or older siblings. People turning 21, the legal drinking age, do not necessarily see drinking as cool.“There’s always some form of rebellion between generations,” he said. Thanks to the cruel march of time, for instance, craft beer – which millennials once embraced as a sophisticated alternative to their fathers’ Miller Lites – is now itself a “dad drink”.Yet none of this explains the dramatic shift among Republicans. Nor does it explain another odd anomaly: the same Gallup poll found that Republicans, despite reporting drinking less than other groups, were less likely than Democrats or independents to say they viewed moderate drinking as dangerous.Some observers suggest the shift may have more to do with who now identifies as Republican. “Republicans made a big push in toss-up states such as Arizona and Pennsylvania in 2024 to register more Republicans, especially among far-right Christians, Mormons and Amish,” Mark Will-Weber, the author of a book on US presidents’ drinking habits, told the Financial Times in August. “These religious groups abstain from alcohol.”Saad is not sure. Republican respondents report drinking less regardless of other factors such as religiosity, she noted. “We’re not seeing anything that would tell us, you know, ‘It’s religious Republicans,’ ‘It’s pro-Trump Republicans,’ ‘It’s Republicans paying attention to the news.’ It’s really across the board.”It’s also difficult to determine the ideological correlation with sobriety. Although rightwing parties have gained ground in many other countries in recent years, Whyatt said, those places have not typically seen the same “aggressive decline in consumption”. The phenomenon seems specific to conservative Americans.The best guess may be that Republicans have turned against alcohol for the same economic and health reasons that Americans in general have – but amplified by “Make America healthy again” politics (with its hostility to vaccines and chemicals, and its faint granola paranoia) and a self-help podcast culture popular on the right that extols wellness, discipline, and treating your body like a temple.Months before his death, Charlie Kirk spoke on his podcast about the reasons he had quit drinking. He said he had done so “four or five” years earlier to improve his sleep and general health. Sobriety was “becoming trendier”, he argued, listing Trump, Carlson, Elon Musk and the Christian pundit Dennis Prager among prominent conservatives who don’t drink – or, in Musk’s case, don’t often.“The top-performing people I’ve ever been around,” Kirk said, “are very against alcohol, against substances. They’ll tell you they perform better, think clearer, have better memory, better recall, more energy, more pace. And I [also] find that some of the people who drink the most, they’re hiding something, they’re masking something.”Most experts acknowledged that it is too soon to tell whether this new sobriety will stick. “You can tie yourself in knots trying to solve those puzzles,” said Saad, the Gallup pollster. “We’re going to just have to wait and see if this holds up next year … maybe by then we’ll see other groups catch up.”Hutchins said Butterworth’s will continue to cater to drinkers and non-drinkers, just as it caters to diners of all political persuasions. But one group of patrons, he added, seems particularly unsettled by the sight of conservatives – or anyone – succumbing to the vice of sobriety.“We have a lot of British clientele, for some reason,” he said. “As soon as some new [British] journalist or diplomat type moves to DC, they come here. And they all say: ‘Nobody drinks here. Nobody even has martinis at lunch. What is happening in this country?’” More

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    Why is the Trump administration obsessed with autism? – podcast

    Archive: Good Morning America, NPR, NBC News, WHAS11, BBC News, CBS News, Jimmy Kimmel Live, LiveNowFox
    Listen to Science Weekly’s episode factchecking Trump’s claims about paracetamol
    Buy Carter Sherman’s book, The Second Coming: Sex and the Next Generation’s Fight Over its Future, here
    Buy Jonathan Freedland’s new book, The Traitor’s Circle, here
    Buy John Harris’ book, Maybe I’m Amazed, about connecting with his son James, diagnosed with autism as a child, through music
    Send your questions and feedback to politicsweeklyamerica@theguardian.com
    Support the Guardian. Go to theguardian.com/politicspodus More

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    Daylight savings haters rejoice: scientists confirm it’s bad for health

    Daylight savings time is not just a hassle – it can also be bad for your health.The twice-yearly “spring forward, fall back” routine rattles our bodies’ daily cycles, known as circadian rhythms, with potentially harmful consequences. And a new study supports what many sleep experts have long argued: the solution is getting rid of daylight savings for good.That will not be easy. While there is plenty of support for eliminating the time change itself, Donald Trump and some in Congress have called for the opposite: making daylight savings permanent. And it may prove unpopular with those of us who enjoy an extra hour of light on a summer’s evening.Researchers at Stanford University found that keeping our clocks on standard time year round, instead of just in the autumn and winter (as in most US states as well as the UK), would reduce the prevalence of obesity and strokes. The study, published in the Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences, stands apart from much other research thanks to its breadth. Instead of simply looking at what happens when the clocks change, the researchers compared three scenarios: permanent standard time, permanent daylight savings time, and the current switching system, which applies in most US states.Dr Jamie Zeitzer, a professor of psychiatry and behavioral sciences, and Lara Weed, a PhD candidate in bioengineering, modeled sunlight exposure across every county in the 48 contiguous states, and compared that information with federal health data. The goal, Zeitzer says, was to use an existing mathematical model to discover the “circadian burden” of the three daylight scenarios – in other words, “how much stress are we putting on the circadian system?” That stress is associated with a variety of disorders, including obesity and stroke. The result suggested that, at least in circadian terms, permanent standard time is the least burdensome on our health.“This goes along with what we’ve been saying since about 2019,” says Dr Karin Johnson, a neurology professor at the University of Massachusetts Chan school of medicine and a member of the American Academy of Sleep Medicine’s advocacy committee. Johnson testified in favor of permanent standard time in front of a US Senate committee in April, telling lawmakers it would create “a more natural alignment between our social schedules and the sun’s cycle every day of the year”.“Our body rhythms basically get set by the sun,” she says. But because our natural cycle is slightly longer than 24 hours, “we need to get cues every day to stay on track. Otherwise, our rhythms get delayed.” That results in problems ranging from trouble sleeping and waking up to digestive issues. “The more we can stay aligned with the sun time,” she says, “the healthier it is for our body, the better our brain functions, the better our sleep.” The American Academy of Sleep Medicine (AASM), American Academy of Neurology and the health and safety-focused non-profit National Safety Council agree.But that argument runs counter to a repeated effort in Congress to pass the Sunshine Protection Act, which would change the system to make daylight savings permanent. Unlike virtually everything else Congress grapples with, it does not seem to be a highly partisan matter; Ted Cruz, for instance, has heard “serious arguments on both sides” and even Trump has acknowledged it’s a “50-50 issue”.Permanent daylight savings may sound appealing, since skipping an hour in the spring results in long, sunlit evenings, but Johnson says that view is misleading. “It’s really summer people are loving but they connect it in their mind to daylight savings time,” she says. Even under standard time, she notes, summer nights would be long. Permanent daylight savings, on the other hand, would cost us essential light during winter mornings – though of course, late-rising Americans may prefer to have that light in the evening.A Gallup poll this year found declining support for daylight savings time overall, with 48% of Americans supporting permanent standard time, 24% backing permanent daylight savings, and 19% wanting to stick with the current system. In 2023, however, a YouGov poll found that among those who wanted to stop switching the clocks, 50% supported permanent daylight savings and 31% supported permanent standard time.As for Zeitzer, while his latest research argues in favor of permanent standard time, he cautions that circadian rhythms are just a “piece of the puzzle”. “Do people exercise more if there’s more light in the morning? Are fewer kids biking to school because it’s too dark in the morning? Are there better economic outputs that are going to help economically marginalized individuals?” he asks. “There are lots of things that could happen if you move where that hour of light is happening, and frankly, it might be very different in different parts of the country.”Advocates of permanent daylight savings have suggested it could, for instance, help fight seasonal depression, save energy and reduce vehicle crashes. (And while the AASM ranks permanent daylight savings as the worst of the three options, Zeitzer’s study asserts it’s better than the constant switching.)But to Johnson, the answer is clear. “It’s a long, slow process but I think getting the word out with studies like this can hopefully shift that needle” toward permanent standard time, she says. “Because people are desperate to end the time change.” More

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    Six great reads: rebels in Nazi Germany, how creativity works and Europe’s biggest pornography conference

    1. The astonishing story of the aristocrat who hid her Jewish lover in a sofa bed – and other German rebels who defied the NazisView image in fullscreenFrom a diplomat who embraced the exiled Albert Einstein to a schoolteacher who helped “non-Aryan” students flee, these remarkable individuals refused to bend the knee to Hitler – only to be dramatically betrayed. What, asked Jonathan Freedland, in this extract from his new book, The Traitors Circle, made them risk it all?Read more2. The unconscious process that leads to creativity: how ‘incubation’ worksView image in fullscreen“One of the most marvellous properties of the brain,” wrote Dutch psychologist Ap Dijksterhuis in this fascinating piece from Well Actually, is its ability to continue working unconsciously when the conscious mind has moved on to something else.Read more3. Disgruntled NYT journalist to ‘anti-woke’ power grab: how far can Bari Weiss go?View image in fullscreenAfter leaving the New York Times, Weiss turned her Substack into an unshakable pro-Israel voice. Now as Paramount eyes acquisition of her company, David Klion profiled a writer who is poised to become Trump’s ally among media elites.Read more4. Israel is forcing us to leave Gaza City. We know they may never let us returnView image in fullscreenIn this deeply personal piece, Gaza reporter Malak A Tantesh wrote about her family’s decision to leave northern Gaza, the area they call home, for the tents of the south where they had also endured last year’s winter. The family has stayed in 10 locations since they were first forced out of their prewar home in Beit Lahia.Read more5. Boom times and total burnout: three days at Europe’s biggest pornography conferenceView image in fullscreenIn this powerful feature, Amelia Gentleman, alongside photographer Judith Jockel, reported from the biggest pornography conference in Europe, where she spoke to entrepreneurs who were excited about AI and soaring profits, and creators who were battling burnout and chronic illness due to the industry’s gig-economy structure.Read more6. ‘I wasn’t terrified of dying, but I didn’t want to leave my kids’: Davina McCall on addiction, reality TV and the brain tumour that nearly killed herView image in fullscreenWhen the TV presenter was offered a free health screening, she thought it was pointless: she was “the healthiest woman you’ve ever met”. But then came the shocking diagnosis. Now fully recovered, she told Simon Hattenstone, she’s re‑evaluating everything.Read more More

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    The cat mayoral race: meet 11 runners and riders in the US’s most furious – and furriest – election

    In Somerville, Massachusetts, a community bike path has, in recent months, become a hotly contested political constituency. A cat with a distinctive black smudge on her nose, Berry, had been sighted on the path by a number of concerned neighbours, who reported her missing. But she wasn’t actually anywhere she shouldn’t have been – Berry is an outdoor cat who lives in the area – so her family put up a poster dubbing her the bike path’s “mayor” to let neighbours know not to worry. It wasn’t long though before things got out of hand. How come Berry got to be mayor, asked other pet owners?A heated election is now under way. There have been dirty tactics (at one point, Berry’s campaign sign was stolen), scandal (candidates were outraged when a local vet claimed to be “sponsoring” the race), and even death: Pirate, the candidate whose family took it upon themselves to set up the online ballot, died unexpectedly, mid-race. Voting (for Somerville locals only) ends on 5 September – and with 73 pets currently in the running, there’s plenty of choice. So who are the runners and riders?The incumbent: BerryView image in fullscreen“Make cats outside again,” reads Berry’s sign campaigning for re-election. The current mayor is a three-year-old black and white cat who can be found on the bike path “daily, when I’m not visiting my humans”, the literature says. She has a dedicated team of humans around her: seven-year-old chief of staff Amias and five-year-old chief canvasser Emmeline; as well as campaign manager Mallory, a 39-year-old scientist. Her team claims she has improved community morale and should she be elected, will “unite the community under cat supremacy”.The challenger: Orange CatView image in fullscreenOrange Cat is a seven-year-old ginger tom, whose owner, 42-year-old comedian Janet, says he is “pro-democracy and pro-free and fair elections” and is also “against rats”. His solution to Somerville’s rat problem is simple: he will “eat them”.The fan favourite: MinervaView image in fullscreenThe simplest – and most intriguing – sign to have appeared along the bike path features a one-word slogan: “CRIME”. This provocative message has won nine-year-old Minerva many supporters online – despite the fact that, as an indoor cat, she has never been seen on the bike path. “Her minions monitor the path for her,” say her owners. “CRIME” remains her sole policy.The bike-hater: CartwheelView image in fullscreenPerhaps controversially for a cat who wishes to be in charge of a cycle lane, six-year-old Cartwheel’s campaign has decreed that, “like all things starting with ‘B’ (buses, basketballs, brooms), bikes are scary, and there should be fewer of them on the bike path”. Cartwheel’s owner, 15-year-old Susan, says he is an advocate of “safe outside time for all cats”, and wears a harness and lead to venture out. In fact, he runs a harness lending library for other local cats and can also do tricks, such as using buttons to demand things from his humans.The duo: Clementine and NixView image in fullscreenTwo-year-old siblings Clementine and Nix are running for mayor and vice-mayor respectively. Their owner Lily, 11, says the pair’s goals are lengthy: “Catnip will be planted along the bike path”, “If a cat is napping they must not be disturbed” and “No one is allowed to pet a cat without the cat’s permission” are just some of the rules the pair would like to implement, should they be elected.The baby: ErnieView image in fullscreenAt just four months old, black kitten Ernie is the youngest candidate in the race. Though he hasn’t yet visited the bike path, his owners say his policies include “adopt, don’t shop”, “free kibble” and “universal pet health insurance”.The climate activist: HugoView image in fullscreenHugo, who was taken in by 61-year-old retiree Jenny, in January, is probably “about a year” old – but as a rescue cat, even he can’t be sure. Jenny says he has “a huge brain” and is “constantly trying to understand how things work” and would apply this to addressing the climate crisis so it’s never too hot for him and other cats to go outside.The one who is not a cat: PicositaView image in fullscreenAlthough the majority of mayoral candidates are cats, it wasn’t long before dogs began planting campaign signs, too. If elected, three-year-old chihuahua Picosita, who lives along the bike path, “will fight for bunnies, birds, and all the small neighbours who can’t bark for themselves”, her owner, 31-year-old data analyst Valerie, says. “Tired of fat cat politicians?” reads her poster. “I’m all ears.”The one who is not a cat or a dog: NagiView image in fullscreenSeven-year-old Nagi is the only tortoise on the ballot: His owner, 24-year-old Trader Joe’s crew member, Shay routinely travels along the bike path with Nagi in his pocket. Nagi’s policies, says Shay, are “centred on waste management” because he has “accidentally nibbled on some trash before.”The nepo-baby: KorbenView image in fullscreenPolitics runs in the family of five-year-old Korben Dallas, whose owner, Jake Wilson, is in the running to be Somerville’s human mayor. Wilson and Dallas have matching campaign posters: while Wilson runs on “Leadership. Values. Action”, Dallas’s slogan is: “Naps. Tuna. Pets”. Dallas’s owners, 14-year-old Ingrid and 11-year-old Margot, regularly use the bike path and report back to him (as he is an indoor cat) and say he is keen to put a speed limit on the community path, enforce the state-wide ban on motorised vehicles on bikeways and to deal with the rodent problems.The one who isn’t actually running for mayor: WasilView image in fullscreenFive-year-old Wasil doesn’t venture outside himself, but lives in an apartment overlooking the bike path – so runs “a 9-to-5 surveillance operation” from his window perch, according to his owners. He is not actually running for mayor, but has put himself forward for a newly created position: attorney general. Here, his focus would be on “keeping the streets safe “ as he has an excellent vantage point “for spotting both birds and wrongdoing”. His owners say he also wants to put an end to “body-shaming” as everyone who walks past his window says “Whoa, he’s so big!” More

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    Why are we so fascinated by the Coldplay couple? | Jessica Ciencin Henriquez

    It wasn’t just that a man got caught cheating on his wife. It was that he did it in public. With the whole stadium watching. With Chris Martin, unknowingly, teeing it up. With a camera zooming in at the exact wrong – or maybe karmically perfect – moment. The CEO. The HR director. The affair. The panic. The humiliation. All of it caught, dissected and shared a million times over.We didn’t watch that video because we love Coldplay (though, don’t we?). We didn’t watch just for the scandal. We watched because – despite our small steps toward enlightenment – we’re all starving for the satisfaction of seeing someone finally get what they deserve.That’s the part we need to talk about.According to a 2023 study in Computers in Human Behavior Reports, the satisfaction we feel during public shaming isn’t just about justice – it’s about pleasure. Their research found that people experience schadenfreude not only because they believe the person deserved it, but because it simply feels good to watch someone face consequences. We’re not just looking for moral clarity. We’re chasing the emotional high that comes with it. We don’t just want closure, we want content. And cheating, exposed in public, has become the most satisfying genre of all.We as a culture are obsessed with catching cheaters – not just for the drama, but for the justice. We want to see betrayal punished. We want the liar exposed, the philanderer humiliated, the partner who was faithful and trusting to be vindicated. And if we can’t get that in our own lives, we’ll take it from strangers.This hunger has only grown over the years as the morally hollow have made careers out of turning scandal into spectacle and walking away untouched. But when the deception is undeniable, and the exposure unfiltered, it gives us something we rarely get: visible accountability.Within hours of that five-second clip surfacing, the internet did what it does best: turned a private moment into public symbolism. Their names were revealed along with their titles. Until the camera found them, they looked unbothered, cozy. Then her hand flew to cover her face. He ducked and waddled behind the seats. Then the entire internet gasped, and reached for their popcorn and pitchforks.You could feel the collective applause ripple through the comments section. We all know the feeling of being deceived. We know the sharp loneliness of loving someone who’s looking elsewhere, of having suspicions but not proof, accusations returned with a side of gaslighting. So when someone gets caught in 4K, we devour the moment. The visuals were almost too perfect: the Coldplay ballad, the cheering crowd turning confused, the abrupt shift from smug to stunned.Don’t we all wish we had that experience? A camera that didn’t look away. A crowd that said: “We see it, too.” Because in our own lives, we confront; they deflect. We cry; they move on. And there’s no applause, no witness. Just you and an unrelenting ache, their version of what happened and the truth.The CEO and the HR director are merely serving as stand-ins for the guy who ghosted you after two years, the woman who swore nothing was going on with her co-worker, the husband who moved on so fast you wondered if you hallucinated your entire marriage. Watching those two squirm on screen is a kind of spiritual revenge. We tell ourselves it’s about ethics, boundaries, accountability. But at the end of the day, don’t we just want someone to answer for the betrayal we never got closure for?Of course, pain is not performance. And justice is not the same as humiliation. Public shaming feels like accountability – but it rarely is accountability. As Jon Ronson warns in his book So You’ve Been Publicly Shamed: “An instant digital mob justice can devastate without offering redemption.” Watching strangers get exposed might feel good temporarily. We nod at the cosmic slap, but it doesn’t fix the trust broken in a marriage or the respect damaged in a workplace. It doesn’t change who they were when no one was watching.There’s a flip side to witnessing this embarrassment that flickers just below the surface. We might laugh, but something in us recoils as we imagine the real cost to those involved: lost jobs, fractured marriages, psychological fallout for their children. A hyperlink trail that will follow them to the grave.As Evan Nierman, author of The Cancel Culture Curse and CEO of the crisis PR firm Red Banyan, puts it: “The internet has a way of locking people into their worst moment. When a misstep goes viral, the court of public opinion rarely allows space for explanation, nuance, or repair.”And once the pile-on begins, it escalates fast. “Digital shame operates at a scale and speed our psychology isn’t built for,” he warns. “What starts as a laugh can quickly spiral into character assassination, with consequences that long outlast a viral moment.”Yet this moment – our collective gasp at betrayal made universal – revealed something crucial: we’re craving truth, acknowledgment. We’re craving slow, messy, quiet reckoning with accountability that extends beyond the tap-and-scroll. But in a world where real accountability is rare, a viral headline like this feels close enough – as though love, loyalty and truth might still mean something, even if only for a moment on the Jumbotron.

    Jessica Ciencin Henriquez is a writer in Ojai, California, and the author of the forthcoming essay collection, If You Loved Me, You Would Know. You can find her on social media @TheWriterJess More