Below are several questions which I would like answers to. They range from well-studied (but not by me), to knowable-in-due-time, to perhaps intrinsically unknowable.

How much did GOTV shift margins in swing states?

Which demographics swung toward Trump? Why?

Relative to the pre-pandemic years, real wages are up, and the gains have been concentrated in the bottom half of the income distribution. So at least one of the following must be true of swing voters:

Which one is it? And how can we find out?

Was the Harris campaign doomed from the start?

Can the right-wing radicalization machine be stopped? Can it be stopped without aggressive action by a government we don’t control?

Why don’t scandals matter anymore?

How do we force voters into better information environments? How do we avoid amplifying their worst impulses?

How do we build social instutions that are robust to a second Trump?

If emissions remain at current levels, or are cut too slowly, what are the most likely impacts of climate change? What are the long-tail scenarios? Which areas will remain (become?) pleasant, which will remain “habitable” but only just, and which will be destroyed?

What climate feedback loops are most worth worrying about?

How ideologically committed will the Trump administration be to mass deportation? What about making life harder for trans people? What about banning abortion?

If Republicans lose the 2028 election, will they concede defeat?

How does democratic backsliding usually proceed? How can it be stopped?

Which countries have succeeded in reversing it, and how far along were they?

What will happen next?

What is required of us?


A few weeks ago, I was trying to figure out how many states I’ve visited. “Visited” is somewhat ambiguous, so the total comes to:

(I’m calling DC a “state” for these purposes. Leave your pedantry in the comments, which do not exist yet.)

But then I came to the most expansive definition: airspace. This is hard. If I wanted to determine which states I’ve flown over, I would have to (1) make a list of every flight I’ve ever taken, (2) dig through old emails to figure out the dates and flight numbers, (3) pay an unreasonable amount of money for a flight data API that provides at least 14 years of historical flightpaths, (4) write some code to fetch/plot them, and (5) remember to cancel the API subscription before the start of the next billing period.

I’m not going to do any of that, so why not be a physicist about it and make the (bad and wrong) assumption that every flight path is a great circle—i.e. every plane takes the shortest possible route between two airports? That would still require me to write plotting code (and dig up airport coordinates, but it turns out Mathematica has an AirportData function for some reason), So I wondered: is there a map projection that turns great circles into straight lines? If so, I would be able to draw “flight paths” on the map and look to see which states they pass over.

Turns out there is! It’s called the gnomonic projection, and you can obtain it by projecting the globe onto a nearby plane, as if there were a light at its center. It’s also, conveniently, already implemented in Mathematica (stop reading my mind stephen).

sphere shining through a point

Assembling the plot took three lines of code, including the list of flights:

toEdge[x_] := Entity["Airport", x[[1]]]
  \[UndirectedEdge] Entity["Airport", x[[2]]];
tripList = {{"ABQ", "DEN"}, {"ABQ", "SAN"}, {"ATL", "BOI"}, ... };
GeoGraphPlot[toEdge/@tripList, GeoProjection -> "Gnomonic",
  GraphLayout -> "StraightLine", ImageSize -> Large]

The output:

map of the united states with lines drawn between airports

Turns out I’ve “been to” every state except Alaska, Hawaii, Louisiana, and Maine. Cool! Though Michigan and South Carolina are admittedly kind of marginal.

…It was at this point that I discovered that GeoGraphPlot takes a GraphLayout -> "Geodesic" option, so I could’ve done this with curved flightpaths the whole time.


All forecasts are listed with probabilities.

Let’s see how I do!


  1. Also some donors, but I think they’ve mostly been pacified. ↩︎

  2. I’m defining “scientific racism” as the belief that (1) cognitive ability differs across racial groups, (2) this difference is mostly genetic, and (3) these facts should be the basis for policy. For the purposes of my forecast, the website in question has to be very open about it. Unz, Takimag, HBD Chick, and Richard Hanania all count. Quillette does not, nor do mainstream Substack guys who make vague noises in the race-and-IQ direction. ↩︎

  3. This can be tricky to measure. I’ll default to Pew’s validated voter survey unless there’s a consensus that another source has better methodology. ↩︎


LGBT people tend tend to view self-identification as the ultimate arbiter of identity. That is, if you say you’re a lesbian, you are a lesbian, even if you’re occasionally attracted to men. If you say you’re asexual, you are asexual, even if you occasionally have sex. If you say you’re bi—well, you get the idea.

I used to think this was all just hippie bullshit, or at the very least, one of those things we all pretended was true to avoid getting yelled at on Tumblr. If you’re attracted to both men and women, aren’t you bisexual by definition? Why should you get to opt out of a purely descriptive label? Sure, maybe some of these categories are historically contingent, but that doesn’t mean you get to redefine them as you see fit.

This frustration is best summed up in a now-deleted ContraPoints tweet:

Gen Z queer people are hard to figure out, they’re like, “I’m an asexual slut who loves sex! You don’t have to be trans to be trans. Casual reminder that your heterosexuality doesn’t make your gayness any less valid!”

I changed my mind on this issue a few years ago, when I started thinking more about signaling (long story short, I was reading a lot of rationalist blogs at the time). If labels express what you want to communicate to other people—which might depend on other factors than raw attraction—then the self-ID view makes perfect sense.

Let’s say you’re a woman who’s a 5 on the Kinsey scale—i.e. mostly, but not exclusively, attracted to other women. Depending on your social milieu and personal preferences, it might be worth it to round that off to “lesbian” if the unwanted attention from men outweighs the loss in dating opportunities. Everybody wins here: you receive less attention from people you don’t want to date, straight and bi men can avoid wasting their time, and queer women get a clearer signal of potential interest (god knows they need it).

(If you do this, I think you also have an obligation to reject any man who asks you out, even if you like him back. Otherwise, a few straight men might get the idea that lesbians will occasionally say yes when guys hit on them, and that’s not good for anybody.)

Similarly, say you’re a Kinsey 3 man with homophobic parents, and in light of this, you’ve elected to only date women. As a bi man, I might even slightly prefer that you identify as straight, because I’d rather not get my hopes up if you happen to be my type. Though you’re still free to call yourself bi—“I have experienced homophobia and can speak with some authority on it” and “you can feel safe coming out to me” are worth signaling too.

I’ve found myself applying this logic to other things. “Social democrat” and “market socialist” are both reasonable descriptions of my politics, but if I call myself a socialist, people think I’m a DSA type, and I cannot stand those guys. So “social democrat” it is. By the same token, I call myself “atheist” instead of “agnostic” because a lot of self-described agnostics are vaguely spiritual people who take a “maybe it’s true, maybe it isn’t” approach to religion. While I’m not willing to rule out the existence of a god-like entity, I want people to know that I think their god is fake.

Is there a term for labeling yourself this way? I feel like there should be. “Denotation vs connotation” and “thick vs thin description” get most of the way there but don’t quite fit. If you know a word for this, please let me know!


The debate sucked.

You can blame it on Biden’s cold, or on his well-document stutter interacting with age and fatigue. Those are reasonable excuses for the silly gaffes like “we beat Medicare” (c’mon, it’s obvious what he meant). But then we come to the abortion answer:

Look, there’s so many young women who have been… Including a young woman who just was murdered, and he went to the funeral. The idea that she was murdered by an immigrant coming in, they talk about that, but here’s the deal. There’s a lot of young women who are being raped by their in-laws, by their spouses, brothers and sisters, by… It’s just ridiculous, and they can do nothing about it. And they try to arrest them when they cross state lines.

What was that? Why would Biden say it? Why would he pivot from a winning issue to a losing one? Did he have anything resembling a coherent thought process?

And assuming he still runs, can we justify voting for him?

Yes. And we should be excited about it.

Of course you should still vote for Biden. The reason is that most of a president’s job performance depends on things other than aptitude.1 It’s about priorities, delegation, policy goals, and who they decide to trust. Obviously I would prefer a president who’s at the top of their game, but if Joe Biden appoints a competent chief of staff and spends the next 4 years getting trotted around Weekend-at-Bernie’s style, that’s still almost as good! Biden is a mainstream Democrat, and the worst case scenario for a mainstream Democrat is that he rolls out a genuinely-pretty-great legislative agenda, appoints liberal judges, and possibly makes some foreign policy blunders that would’ve been even worse under a Republican.

Americans are bizarrely obsessed with the personal qualities of their leaders. 60 years ago, when the inter-party differences were much smaller than the intra-party ones, this might have made sense. Today, though, I’m ride-or-die for Democrats, and anyone with half a heart or half a brain should be too. The difference between the parties is so stark that we mostly know what a president’s policies will be, and the candidates themselves might as well be blunt objects.2

I didn’t always believe this. Four years ago, I was the sort of person who sneered at the “neoliberal” Dem establishment. But things changed. Democrats embraced social and infrastructure spending in a way they never did in the Obama years, leading to a fast recovery and the hottest labor market in two decades. Biden (who, remember, was supposedly from the corporate wing of the party) has been so pro-union that even liberal nonprofits are freaked out. But for Joe Manchin’s bizarre obsession with means-testing,3 we’d have an expanded child tax credit and vastly less child poverty. Solar panels are being installed at a jaw-dropping rate. Real wages are up. In 2020, the dominant narrative among progressives was that the rest of the party would knife us in the back at the first chance they got, and I don’t think we’ve reckoned with how wrong that turned out to be.

The Bolsheviks had a doctrine called “democratic centralism,” which required all dissent to be expressed internally, and all members to follow a decision in lockstep once the party had voted.4 If there’s one thing I believe in, it’s capital-D Democratic centralism. Support all the primary challengers you want, try to get your ideological allies onto your county’s Democratic committee,5 but as soon as the convention is over, fall the fuck in line.

This autumn, I’m going to go canvassing for the Democratic nominee, I’m going to donate to their campaign, and I’m going to start shamelessly propagandizing in their favor to anyone who’ll listen (our enemies, for all their faults, at least understand the value of propaganda—have you watched Fox News recently?).

And I refuse to care who it is. Shapiro? Hell yeah. Whitmer? Hell. Yeah. Newsom? Suddenly, I think “presidential hair” is the most important quality a candidate can have. Biden? Fuck you, 81 is young. Harris? I would fall out of a coconut tree for her. Like it or not, this is the coalition we’re part of, and it’s time to act like it.


  1. Competence can matter at the margin, of course. The main reason I’m so bullish on Whitmer is her proven record of passing ambitious bills with razor-thin legislative majorities. ↩︎

  2. This is one of the reasons I think Biden probably should drop out, even if he’d be a fine president. H/t to Eric Levitz’s Vox piece for convincing me of this. ↩︎

  3. It’s worth noting how weirdly ideological Manchin is about this. The Trump–Manchin swing voters in WV aren’t exactly deficit hawks. ↩︎

  4. Historically, “democratic centralism” mostly functioned as a flimsy excuse for the Soviet leadership to suppress dissent. But in the abstract, as a theory of effective partisan politics, I think it’s sound. ↩︎

  5. To those of you who complain about the party establishment: When was the last time you actually did something about it? I canvassed for a Democratic Town Committee election last March, and we defeated conservative democrats in 8 different races. Where were you? ↩︎