Iranians gathered to mourn the death of President Ebrahim Raisi and Foreign Minister Hossein Amir-Abdollahian in a helicopter crash the previous day, at Valiasr Square, on May 20, 2024 in Tehran, Iran | Majid Saeedi/Getty Images The Iranian regime is unlikely to change course in the near term, but Ebrahim Raisi’s death could affect crucial succession plans. Iranian President Ebrahim Raisi died Sunday in a helicopter crash, a shocking turn of events that immediately raised questions about the Islamic Republic’s future. In the short term, Raisi’s passing is unlikely to alter the direction of Iran’s politics. But it does remove one possible successor to 85-year-old Supreme Leader Ayatollah Ali Khamenei. In the long term, Raisi’s unexpected death may prove more consequential. The question of Khamenei’s succession is increasingly urgent because of his advanced age. Though Iran’s president can be influential in setting policy, the Supreme Leader is the real seat of power, controlling the judiciary, foreign policy, and elections. Raisi and Foreign Minister Hossein Amirabdollahian’s helicopter made a hard landing sometime on Sunday in Iran’s mountainous northwest, where weather conditions made travel difficult and dangerous. Iranian state media announced the deaths of the two politicians and six others onboard, including three crew members, on Monday after rescue teams finally reached the crash site. The deaths of both Raisi and Amirabdollahian come at a time of internal and external challenges for the Iranian regime. A harsh crackdown after the widespread protests of 2022 and significant economic problems domestically have eroded the regime’s credibility with the Iranian people. Internationally, Iran is embroiled in a bitter regional conflict with Israel as well as a protracted fight with the US over its nuclear program. In the near term, the first vice president, Mohammad Mokhber, will be the acting president as the country prepares to hold elections within the next 50 days as dictated by its constitution. (The Iranian government includes vice presidencies overseeing different government agencies, similar to US Cabinet-level secretaries; the first vice president is roughly equivalent to the US vice president.) Raisi was considered a potential successor to Khamenei, having already been vetted by the ruling clerics during his 2021 presidential run and having been committed to the regime’s conservative policies. With his death, amid one of the regime’s most challenging periods, Iran’s long-term future is a little less certain. Within Iran, succession is the biggest question A hardline conservative cleric, Raisi always wore a black turban symbolizing his descent from the prophet Muhammad. His close relationship with the powerful Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps (IRGC) fueled speculation that he could succeed Khamenei. The paramilitary force exerts significant sway over internal politics and also wields influence throughout the broader region through aligned groups and proxy forces in Iraq and Syria, as well as Hezbollah in Lebanon, the Houthis in Yemen, and Hamas in Gaza. Raisi was initially elected in 2021 with 62 percent of the vote, though turnout was only 49 percent — the lowest ever in the history of the Islamic Republic, evidence of the crisis of legitimacy in which the government increasingly finds itself. “People don’t want to legitimate the government by participating in what they consider either fraudulent or just non-representative political outcomes,” Firoozeh Kashani-Sabet, Walter H. Annenberg professor of history at the University of Pennsylvania, told Vox. Throughout his judicial career, Raisi is alleged to be responsible for or implicated in some of the government’s most brutal repression and human rights abuses since the 1979 revolution, including serving on the so-called Death Committee, which was tasked with carrying out thousands of extrajudicial executions of political prisoners in the 1980s. During and after the Iran-Iraq war, there were a number of groups opposed to the regime, as well as supporters of the Iraqi position and even an attempt to attack Iran from Iraq. In order to preserve the Islamic Republic’s legitimacy, Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini ordered a sweeping purge of the opposition; many of the dissidents who were arrested were chosen for execution arbitrarily. Following the disputed 2009 election — which birthed the Green Movement, the most significant threat to the regime in decades — Raisi, then a high-level member of the judiciary, called for the punishment and even execution of people involved in the movement. And as president, he helped oversee the violent backlash to the Woman, Life, Freedom movement that erupted following the death in police custody of Mahsa Amini, a 22-year-old Kurdish woman arrested by the morality police for allegedly wearing her hijab improperly. Raisi’s unpopularity due to his repressive past and worsening living standards for ordinary Iranians had helped further erode the government’s legitimacy, which may affect the upcoming presidential contest. “On the one hand, bringing people to the ballot boxes is going to be difficult,” Ali Vaez, director of the Iran program at the International Crisis Group, told Vox. “On the other, I think [the Council of Guardians, which oversees elections in Iran] also don’t want, necessarily, the people to come to the ballot boxes. And they also don’t want to have an open election, because the entire focus of the leadership right now is on ideological conformity at the top, they don’t really care about legitimacy from below.” That will mean a highly manicured list of candidates in the upcoming election. Though there are possibilities for some marginal change, Negar Mortazavi, a journalist and senior fellow at the Center for International Policy, said during a panel discussion Monday that there will be little room for any significant shift. “[Raisi] could potentially be replaced by someone like Mohammad Bagher Ghalibaf,” the current speaker of the Parliament, who is not a cleric and may be less socially conservative, Mortazavi said. “So I see a little bit of openings in the enforcement of, for example, mandatory hijab, the lifestyle policing of young Iranians. That’s the one area that we could potentially see any policy change direction or enforcement of existing laws and regulations.” But the next president, whoever it is, will likely be a caretaker and not the successor to Khamenei. That person — potentially Khamenei’s own son, Mojtaba — will be the conduit for power and policy in Iran over the coming decades. Iran’s political future will also be dictated by the IRGC, which has grown its power, visibility, and centrality in recent years. “What the [Iranian] deep state wants is a leader who’s no longer supreme, and is basically a frontman for the current office and the Revolutionary Guards to be able to preserve their vested economic and political interest in the system,” Vaez said. “There are clerics who would fit that profile — either Ayatollahs who are too old to be able to actually run their own affairs, and they certainly would not be able to run the country, or are too young and too inexperienced and lack constituency of their own.” Iran’s international precariousness, explained Raisi’s death comes as Iran is engaged in a deepening proxy war with Israel as the Jewish state fights Hamas in Gaza, particularly through Iran’s affiliated group in Lebanon, Hezbollah. Its allies in Yemen, the Houthis, have traded fire with US forces in the Red Sea, and Syrian and Iraqi militias have attacked US anti-terror installations in those countries. In April, Iran launched hundreds of drones and missiles in retaliation for Israel’s assassination of an Iranian military official in Damascus, Syria earlier that month. It was the first time Iran had launched such an attack on Israeli territory from its own, and prompted further retaliation from Israel in the form of its own missile and drone attack. Iran’s conflict with Israel usually comes through allied non-state groups in its “axis of resistance” across the Middle East, like the militias in Syria and Iraq that attack American positions or Hezbollah in southern Lebanon, which trades rocket fire with the Israeli military over the southern Lebanese border. Those international efforts are not likely to change significantly in the near future following Raisi’s death. Amirabdollahian was close to the IRGC command, the Associated Press reported Monday, and they are likely to maintain significant sway over Iran’s internal and external affairs. Deputy Foreign Minister Ali Bagheri Kani will take over as acting foreign minister until a new government is formed. His portfolio includes negotiation over Iran’s nuclear program, which will continue to be a critical part of its foreign policy agenda. Some experts fear that any uncertainty about Iran’s internal politics, given the nuclear stakes, elevates the risk of direct conflict between Iran and the US or Israel. “Iran is already a nuclear weapons threshold state, and regional tensions are high,” Kelsey Davenport, director for nonproliferation policy at the Arms Control Association, said in a panel discussion Monday. “We’ve seen this uptick in Iranian statements about weaponization potential. So the risk of the United States or Israel miscalculating Iran’s nuclear intentions was already quite high, and any injection of domestic political turmoil increases the risk of misinterpreting Iranian actions. I think that the risk of miscalculation will remain.” On the other hand, this period of turnover, during which the Iranian government’s priority will likely be to mitigate any risk of major change or upheaval, could present an opportunity for the international community and the Biden administration to de-escalate relations with Iran, particularly concerning its nuclear projects, Davenport said. “I think the Biden administration should be prepared to try to put a package on the table that incentivizes Iran to take some short-term steps that reduce proliferation risk,” she added. Real change in Iran will not come through a single person, but through systemic change, Kashani-Sabet told Vox. “Iran needs a new political framework; we need a new constitutional framework,” she said. “I think this is really the only way out for Iran — a constitutional framework that helps to forge a more participatory and inclusive political culture.”

It’s about more than just the blue light. We’ve all heard that using our phones before bed is bad for us, but do we actually know why? One of the most commonly cited reasons is that our phone’s blue light is disrupting our ability to fall asleep — but study after study has shown that just changing the color of light, or turning on night mode or night shift, isn’t enough to counteract the effects of our screens. The truth is that color temperature is just one aspect of how our phone light is stimulating our brains. Sleep science suggests that the key to getting good rest is much more complex. So if using night mode on our phones is not the only solution, and we know we’re likely going to keep scrolling before bed, is there a better way to use our phone at night, without disrupting our sleep? To find out more, check out Vox Video’s latest.This video is presented by Brilliant. Head to https://brilliant.org/vox/ for a 30-day free trial and 20% off your annual subscription. Brilliant doesn’t have a say in our editorial decisions, but they make videos like this possible.

US Secretary of State Antony Blinken performs “Rockin’ in the Free World” with members of The 1999 band at the Barman Dictat bar in Kyiv on May 14, 2024. | Brendan Smialowski/Pool/AFP via Getty Images Still rockin’ in the free world? When Secretary of State Antony Blinken strapped on a guitar and took the stage at a Kyiv rock club last week to sing Neil Young’s “Rockin’ in the Free World,” he didn’t amuse many of the Biden administration’s critics, who questioned whether the jam session was in good taste at a time when children are starving in Gaza and when Russian forces are making rapid gains in eastern Ukraine, partly due to the long delay in delivering US weapons to the front. But the song’s eponymous chorus (Blinken skipped the far more caustic verses, which make it clear that Young was being ironic) is a good representation of how the Biden administration would like its foreign policy to be viewed, particularly when it comes to support for Ukraine. As Blinken told the crowd, Ukraine’s forces “are fighting not just for a free Ukraine but for the free world — and the free world is with you too.” Almost from the beginning, President Joe Biden has defined his administration as locked in a struggle to push back against the global erosion of democracy and “win the 21st century” against authoritarian powers like China and Russia. He has often described this struggle as guiding not just America’s foreign policy but its domestic priorities, saying America must prove that democracy “still works” to deliver economic growth and prosperity. This type of rhetoric only intensified after Russia’s invasion of Ukraine, which Biden has framed as a test of the democratic world’s resolve. The democracy versus autocracy framing drew a stark contrast with Donald Trump, who as president took a narrowly transactional view of foreign policy, had chummy relationships with leaders like Vladimir Putin, Kim Jong Un, and the Saudi royal family, and undermined democratic norms at home. It also drew a more subtle contrast with Barack Obama, whose signature foreign policy achievements — the Iran nuclear deal, the diplomatic opening to Cuba, breakthrough climate change diplomacy with China — often involved doing business with some of the world’s most repressive governments. “I believe that — every ounce of my being — that democracy will and must prevail,” Biden told the Munich Security Conference a few weeks after taking office. Putting that belief into practice has been more difficult. What’s the US actually doing in the world? In practice, the Biden administration’s foreign policy has been more conventional than the rhetoric suggests: “Realpolitik from top to bottom,” as international relations scholar Paul Poast put it earlier this year. The goal has not so much been to defeat authoritarianism writ large as to compete with and contain particular authoritarian powers: China, Russia, and Iran. Sometimes, as in US support for Ukraine’s war effort and military aid to Taiwan, this can fairly be described as standing up for a beleaguered democracy. Sometimes, as in the upgrading of relations between the US and Vietnam that came during Biden’s visit to the country last year, it’s hard to see it that way. Conveniently for the US, Vietnam — a major American trade partner — is increasingly wary about China’s territorial aims in the South China Sea, but the two countries have very similar political systems: single-party Communist regimes without national elections. When the US convened a virtual “summit of democracies” in 2021, a good portion of the coverage and commentary focused not on the meetings themselves, but on the guest list. For instance, Hungary, a country whose government was backsliding on democracy and the rule of law and becoming increasingly friendly to Russia, was excluded. Poland, a country whose government was (at the time) backsliding on democracy and the rule of law, but was staunchly anti-Russian, was not. In 2022, the US hosted the Summit of the Americas — a periodic gathering of Western Hemisphere leaders — but excluded Venezuela, Cuba, and Nicaragua, all authoritarian governments subject to US sanctions. The administration’s principled pro-democracy stance was undercut somewhat by the fact that the White House was simultaneously planning a presidential trip to Saudi Arabia. The Saudis, as they have from numerous previous administrations, evidently get a pass when it comes to Biden’s freedom agenda. The president famously promised on the campaign trail to make Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman, the kingdom’s de facto ruler, a “pariah” over his role in the killing of journalist and US resident Jamal Khashoggi. In 2022, with the war in Ukraine putting pressure on global oil markets, Biden and “MBS” shared an awkward fist bump in Riyadh. More recently, the administration has been pushing an ambitious deal under which Saudi Arabia would formally recognize Israel in exchange for concessions from Israel on Palestinian statehood and formal security guarantees from the US. The US hasn’t agreed to a pact like this with any country since Japan in 1960. Then there’s India, where nearly a billion voters are going to the polls this month, but where moves by Prime Minister Narendra Modi’s Hindu nationalist government to sideline its opponents and crack down on the media have raised questions about how much longer the “world’s largest democracy” will live up to that title. The administration has been conspicuously quiet about the democratic backsliding in a country it considers a vital bulwark against Chinese power. This soft touch has continued even in the face of compelling evidence of plans by India’s intelligence services to kill the government’s critics on US soil. And finally, there’s Israel’s war on Gaza. The administration’s arguments that countries in the Global South should be doing more to back Ukraine and punish Russia in the name of the rules-based international order fall a little flat when the US continues to provide weapons to a country that even the State Department concludes is likely violating the laws of war. This administration is hardly the first to fall short of its own rhetoric when it comes to democracy and human rights. And it’s not as if Trump would do more to advance democracy or human rights if elected instead — not when it comes to Israel, or Saudi Arabia, or any other country. But the sweep and ambition of this president and his team’s rhetoric make it hard not to note the inconsistencies as they rock on in an increasingly unfree world. This story originally appeared in Today, Explained, Vox’s flagship daily newsletter. Sign up here for future editions.

Getty Images Maybe you actually smell fine. Whole-body deodorants are upon us. They’re not an entirely new concept: Axe Body Spray, Unilever’s fusion of fragrance and deodorant, has been singeing nostrils since 1983, and in 2018, Lumé, created by an OB/GYN, came on the scene for “pits, privates, and beyond.” This spring, legacy brands jumped on board en masse: Since the start of 2024 alone, Secret, Dove, Old Spice, and Native launched whole-body products consumers can apply as sticks, sprays, and creams. What the funk is going on? “It is either, at best, an absurd, comical money grab — and at worst, a concerning phenomenon for your health,” says Sarah Everts, author of The Joy of Sweat. Sweating is a human superpower, she says; few other species can use sweat to avoid overheating. To Everts and other critics, the existence of whole-body deodorants should raise our curiosity about why we feel the need to smell a certain way — or not. They should also make us wonder who stands to profit by changing social norms about sweat, hygiene, and odor. Sweat and the strategies for managing it might seem relatively simple, but they’re not. The market for deodorants, especially the kind intended for application everywhere, rests on a foundation of collective confusion about how these products and our bodies actually work. Different parts of the body make different kinds of sweat — and different kinds of smells Not all sweat is created equal: Human bodies have two kinds of sweat glands, and their products are not exactly the same. Apocrine sweat glands are typically concentrated in the places where hair grows during puberty — the armpits, the groin, and the butt. These glands make a waxy substance that certain bacteria love to eat, and it’s the byproducts of that microbial banquet that create the musky aromas most commonly associated with body odor. “The sweat in our armpits is different — quite different — from the sweat that covers your body,” says Andrew Best, a biological anthropologist who studies sweat at the Massachusetts College of Liberal Arts. That’s because the rest of your body is covered with eccrine sweat glands, whose product is a more watery, salty liquid that’s less appealing to bacteria but does a bang-up job of keeping us cool. Eccrine sweat is what covers most of our body during exercise. It might occasionally evoke recently ingested food and drink, with particularly piquant notes after a garlic bread binge or a very boozy night. Still, because it’s not well-suited for bacterial consumption, eccrine sweat just doesn’t usually generate the odors that apocrine sweat does. There is such a thing as dysfunctional sweating: About 10 million Americans produce way more sweat than their body’s temperature-regulating needs, either as a consequence of certain medical conditions or medications, or just because it’s the way they’re wired — a condition called hyperhidrosis. Other, less common medical conditions produce particularly pungent sweat. But most of the sweat most people produce serves a positive biological function: “Sweating is almost always good,” says Best. Deodorants and antiperspirants aren’t the same The over-the-counter products available to combat sweat typically do one of two things: They either prevent sweat glands from producing sweat to begin with (antiperspirants), or they change the smell of the sweat (deodorants). Antiperspirants block sweat pores using one of several aluminum-containing compounds. In the Food and Drug Administration’s book, the fact that antiperspirants change the way a body part functions — in this case, a sweat gland — makes them over-the-counter drugs. That classification means companies face more restrictions if they want to include these aluminum compounds in products. (A rumor literally spread by an email chain letter in the 1990s and a long-abandoned 1960s-era hypothesis have led many people to avoid using aluminum-based odor control products due to fears about breast cancer and Alzheimer’s disease, respectively; heaps of science have since shown these fears are unfounded.) Although many products intended for underarm application combine an antiperspirant with a deodorant in one, products labeled as deodorants alone aren’t supposed to contain these aluminum compounds. They’re not intended to block your sweat pores; rather, they aim to change the odors that result from the sweat once it’s already on your skin. Distinguishing between antiperspirants and deodorants is important because sweat actually plays a huge role in keeping us cool when we’re overheating, and blocking too much of it could threaten a person’s ability to regulate their temperature. In part for that reason, antiperspirants are typically labeled for use only under the arms (conveniently, the origins of most of the smells people using these products are trying to control). Deodorants, on the other hand, can use a range of approaches to reduce the smell of sweat all over the body without interfering with its cooling function, says Kelly Dobos, a cosmetic chemist in Cincinnati. (Dobos has never worked for any of the companies now marketing full-body deodorants, although she has in the past done non-deodorant-related work for the parent company of Ban, which now makes a deodorizing lotion for private parts.) Dobos reviewed the ingredient lists of a range of whole-body deodorants, including legacy brands and newer brands. The spray products typically contained little more than alcohol and fragrance — they’re basically perfumes, she says, and the alcohol concentration in these products probably isn’t high enough to kill the good bacteria living on your skin, which have a staggering range of protective functions. Meanwhile, several of the creams contained lactic or mandelic acids, whose low pH creates an environment that favors the growth of those good, non-stinky bacteria, crowding out odor-causing germs. A handful of sticks and creams contained starch, aimed at absorbing wetness. Some brands’ entire ranges contained zinc compounds known to neutralize stinky molecules; other active ingredients include compounds called cyclodextrins intended to absorb odor, and enzymes called microbial ferments that purportedly degrade odor-causing molecules. Many of these ingredients also turn up in standalone deodorants intended for underarm application. One product, a Lumé “sweat control” deodorant cream, contained an aluminum compound that’s actually an antiperspirant, which raises concerns about a problem with the product’s labeling, says Dobos. “​​I have a feeling the FDA will give them a call.” Do most people actually need full-body deodorant? With the exception of improperly labeled products, most whole-body deodorants can do …whatever it is they do without hijacking the body’s cooling system. Still, before people decide to fork over the money for yet another cosmetic product, it’s worth thinking about whether sweat from behind your knees, your skin folds, or even your nether regions is actually a problem in need of a solution. After all, these products are not meant to target odors from underarm sweat. Rather, they take aim at odors due to apocrine sweat in the groin — not something casual contacts typically perceive because groins are (usually) under a few layers of fabric and a few feet away from others’ noses — and eccrine sweat elsewhere on the body, which is largely inoffensive to most noses, even when there’s a lot of it. “Just bathing should take care of whatever quote-unquote ‘problem’ you think you have. And if you need to be throwing more at your microbiome than a simple daily shower,” Best says, “it’s probably your perceptions of your smell that are the problem, not actually the smell.” “Nobody’s being fooled into thinking that you’re a citrus fruit,” added Everts. Because deodorants qualify as cosmetics and not as drugs, the companies that produce them don’t have to do safety or effectiveness testing before selling them to the public. That means products that could cause skin irritation or allergic reactions — especially in the more sensitive skin of the groin — can still be freely marketed for whole-body use. “It is the Wild West,” says Adam Friedman, a dermatologist at George Washington University who is also a faculty member of the International Hyperhidrosis Society. Sweat itself can irritate the skin, and for people with pathologic sweating such as those with hyperhidrosis, whole-body deodorants are likely to disappoint because they don’t actually reduce sweat output. “[They’ll] have no effect on excessive sweating and may even cause harm,” says Friedman — but because people with these conditions are so desperate for help, it’s a marketing no-brainer to try to sell them solutions. When it comes to skin conditions, he says, it’s “very easy to take advantage of those suffering.” If you try a whole-body deodorant, avoid applying it to mucous membranes (the wet surfaces beyond labial folds and anuses) and use it only on select portions of intact, non-irritated skin to lower the chances the product causes more problems than it solves. Dobos noted the ingredients in most whole-body deodorants are largely benign and probably won’t disrupt your skin’s microbiome too much if used in moderation. In her view, these products are unlikely to be biologically problematic. “But they’re probably still culturally problematic [in that they set] the wrong expectations for young people regarding how their body should smell,” says Best. Hygiene norms can be manipulated to make money (off of you) Body odor exists on a spectrum, and one end of that spectrum includes smells that are globally recognized as gnarly, much as there’s broad human consensus that sewage and dead animals have offensive aromas. So yes, human sweat can smell quite bad. As early as the first century BCE, the Roman poet Catullus dissed a male contemporary for the “grim goat” housed in his armpits, saying (poetically) it was the reason he never got laid. But it’s also true that a lot of American norms around body odor originated with people who had a financial stake in creating them. The inventors of the first modern antiperspirant couldn’t get people to buy it for the first decade after they developed it; sales only took off after a 1919 ad in Ladies’ Home Journal hinted that women with insufficiently “dainty and sweet” underarms would never land a husband. Americans may be particularly easy marks for advertising campaigns that promise conspicuous hygiene. The nation’s peculiar association between cleanliness and godliness, imported by Puritans and Quakers centuries ago, helped personal odor become a particularly strong signifier of moral, physical, and racial purity in the US early in the nation’s history, writes anthropologist Marybeth MacPhee. These ideas led to olfactory discrimination against Black Americans, creating a particularly strong incentive to “smell clean” as a strategy for acceptance into (or protection from) white society; they have also been used to disparage immigrants with different diets and fragrance norms as diseased or low status over the years. Such concepts clearly have commercial utility, as well: They’ve helped create a lucrative market for dubiously necessary hygiene products in the US — especially among women and sometimes to their detriment, as in the cases of douching and talcum powder. If you have a problem with smells coming from your groin, “you need to be going to a doctor, not a store,” says Everts. But with whole-body deodorants, companies are urging consumers to sanitize all body aromas — not just the goat-y ones. Among the experts I spoke to, there was strong consensus that whole-body deodorants exist largely to make money for the companies that sell them. Deodorant and antiperspirant sales have been pretty steady for the past few years, says Dobos; adding a new product with new uses potentially increases the amount of money both manufacturers and retailers can make. “They’ve manufactured a problem so they can sell us a product to fix it,” says Best. Whether you’re buying or not, it’s worth thinking about what it means to reject all of your body’s natural smells, not just its most offensive ones. The fundamental odor unique to each of us — not the stuff coming out of our armpits, but the rest of the aromas our bodies make — is part of our identity, says Everts. “It’s a symphony of subtle smells that make you who you are and help the people who love you and spend time with you identify you,” she says. “Why would you mess with that?”

Paige Vickers/Vox; Joan Wong for Vox; Photo by Mark Peterson/Associated Press The guardrails of democracy reined him in last time. But they’re weakening. Seven days after being sworn in as president, Donald Trump threw the nation into crisis. The country had wondered whether the new president would follow through on the extreme and authoritarian proposals he’d put forward in his campaign. On January 27, 2017, by executive order, Trump imposed an extreme version of his “Muslim ban” — barring people from seven mostly-Muslim countries from entering the United States. Even people already approved as lawful permanent residents — people with green cards, who had been legally living and working in the US, often for years — could all of a sudden be turned away, refused entry to their adopted home. Chaos unfolded at airports, nationwide protests erupted, and to many, it felt like something new and genuinely frightening was taking place: a slide into an oppressive regime. But then the crisis ebbed. Just two days after the ban was imposed, widespread criticism pushed the administration to water down the policy — “clarifying” green card holders were exempt. Five days after that, a judge blocked the rest of the order from going into effect. The guardrails protecting democracy had, it seemed, held. This pattern recurred during Trump’s presidency. The president ordered or considered something outrageous. He faced pushback in response. And he usually, ultimately, ended up constrained. Sometimes Trump would eventually end up with a scaled-back version of what he wanted: a retooled travel ban, made less blatantly discriminatory, did eventually get court approval. Sometimes he’d manage to go quite far — as in his attempt to steal the 2020 election — before being thwarted. But often he’d fail entirely. All this has led to a sort of complacency among many Americans about what a second Trump term would bring. There’s a mentality of: “It won’t be that bad — we got through it last time, right?” We did get through it last time. But that wasn’t for lack of Trump’s trying. It was because of the guardrails: those features of the political system, both formal and informal, that so often prevented Trump from actually doing the undemocratic things he tried to do. So to assess the peril a second Trump term poses for American democracy, we need to assess the condition of the guardrails. Worryingly, most of them have weakened since Trump first came to power; some have weakened very significantly. None appear to have gotten stronger. We’re still a very long way from a system where the president can truly rule without any checks on his power. We can’t know right now exactly how often the guardrails would still hold Trump back, or how future crises would play out. But it’s easy to see how a more determined and radicalized Trump, in a system with significantly weaker guardrails, could lead American democracy to even more dangerous places. The guardrails: What they are To understand what exactly the guardrails protecting American democracy are, think about how Trump’s corrupt ambitions were so often frustrated during his first term. When he fired FBI Director James Comey, he ended up with special counsel Robert Mueller. When he wanted Mueller fired, it didn’t happen. When Trump urged prosecutors to charge his political enemies, they largely didn’t. He tried to punish CNN for negative coverage by blocking their parent company’s sale to AT&T; the sale went through. He tried to get Ukraine’s president to dig up dirt on the Biden family, but that effort blew up in his face and got him impeached. He never went through with other things he mused about — like delaying the 2020 election due to the pandemic or using the military to crack down on racial justice unrest. And though his attempt to overturn Biden’s election win went further than almost anyone expected, it ultimately failed too. In all these instances, there was pushback from part of the political system — often multiple parts — that either convinced or impelled Trump to back down. We can think of the forces constraining Trump in two categories. First, there are all the other government officials, among whom power in the system is dispersed. These include: Executive branch appointees, many of whom often refused to carry out Trump’s orders even though Trump himself appointed them The career civil service — the permanent government employees who can’t be fired Members of Congress, who pass or block laws, confirm nominees, and raise a stink when the administration does something they don’t like The courts, charged with enforcing the law, who often ruled against Trump State and local officials, such as the election administrators who certified Biden’s swing state wins in 2020 Second, there are the informal constraints. These include: The Republican Party, which, broadly defined, includes politicians, party officials, and interest groups Trump wants to keep on his side The press, which can unearth damaging news and hammer a president with critical coverage The public, who, when roused, can speak out, take to the streets, or vote politicians out of office To be truly successful, a would-be authoritarian would need to coopt, weaken, or smash many of these rival power centers. Some of Trump’s second-term agenda is designed to do just that. The executive branch: Can the “deep state” protect democracy? The president is, in theory, in charge of the executive branch. In practice, things are more complicated. The chief executive’s instructions have to be carried out by people — people who can refuse to go along. About 2.2 million civil servants work across the federal government in career posts, in addition to 1.3 million active duty military personnel. They cannot be fired at the president’s say-so. In his book American Resistance, David Rothkopf argues that many such officials across different ages acted “in an informal alliance” during Trump’s first term to keep him “from doing irreparable damage to the United States.” At the top of these federal agencies are the political appointees Trump actually gets to pick. They number about 4,000, of which around 1,200 require Senate confirmation. But these hand-picked appointees also often slow-walked, argued against, or refused to carry out President Trump’s orders. This is an interesting phenomenon, and it’s worth thinking about why it happened. One reason may be that Trump often appointed “the wrong people” — that is, GOP establishment or nonpartisan figures rather than cronies and personal loyalists. But another reason could be that top government posts themselves have a sort of pragmatizing effect to many who hold them. Once sworn in, appointees have to deal with the reality of their agencies’ capabilities, as well as with the practical and legal perils of putting Trump’s more extreme ideas into effect. This dynamic was demonstrated most dramatically during the election crisis, when officials in the Justice Department, the White House Counsel’s Office, the Department of Homeland Security, the military, and other agencies declined to aid Trump’s schemes, as did Vice President Mike Pence. Not everyone balked, though. Jeffrey Clark, a Justice Department official, made clear he would happily denounce swing state election results as fraudulent if Trump put him in charge of DOJ. Warned that riots would break out across the country if Trump illegally stayed in power, Clark answered, “That’s why there’s an Insurrection Act” — suggesting Trump could use the military to suppress protests of his power grab. (Trump nearly named Clark acting attorney general, but backed down after other DOJ officials made it clear they’d resign if he did.) Clark shows there’s nothing guaranteed or automatic about the phenomenon where top officials constrain Trump’s worst impulses. Clark did end up facing serious consequences — he is being criminally prosecuted alongside Trump in Fani Willis’s Georgia case and may be disbarred too, but he was willing to take that risk. So if Trump could reliably identify and appoint many more Jeffrey Clarks to top posts, he’d be far better equipped to corrupt the executive branch. And what if he could turn thousands of career civil servants into mini Jeffrey Clarks, too? Trump’s team has a plan for that. They say Trump will use his executive authority to reclassify tens of thousands of high-level career posts as political jobs, and then fire many of the people currently in those jobs, replacing them with prescreened MAGA loyalists. Despite the big talk, there’s a question of whether Trump’s team really can pull this off. “A lot will depend on the efficiency and effectiveness of his team,” Rothkopf told Vox. “As we’ve seen in the past he doesn’t always attract the A-Team. They’re not always good at this kind of thing.” If they can make it happen, though, the result could be a federal government that, at every level, is far more corrupt and willing to be weaponized against the president’s enemies. Congress and the Republican Party: two weakened guardrails Congress has a long history of frustrating and checking the ambitions of presidents, whose bold legislative agendas typically get dramatically downsized. In Trump’s first term, he adopted House Speaker Paul Ryan’s legislative agenda of repealing Obamacare and cutting taxes, shelving his own hopes for an infrastructure bill due to lack of GOP support. Then, centrist Republican senators thwarted the Obamacare repeal bill. And in the midterms, the GOP lost the House, sharply constraining Trump’s legislative ambitions for his next two years. So far, so normal. But the modern Congress is a deeply partisan institution, and in recent years, the Republican Party has changed. At first, Trump was to a large extent coopted by the GOP, but since then, he has flipped the power dynamic. He has used his influence over the party’s base to make clear that if you refuse to defend his corrupt conduct, he’ll brand you an enemy — and your future in the party will be short. This transformation has been particularly evident in the House of Representatives. Despite perennial drama among the chamber’s conservatives, House Republicans have become increasingly sycophantic supporters of Trump — often because, they believe, this is what their voters want. More than half of the House GOP voted to overturn Biden’s wins in swing states. Vocal Trump critics keep losing primaries or quitting the party, while the speakers keep going to Mar-a-Lago to bend the knee. A GOP House would be far less likely to constrain Trump next time around. The most obvious way Congress can strike back against a corrupt president is by impeaching and removing him from office. But even after Trump’s attempt to steal the election and the January 6 attack on the Capitol, a mere 10 House Republicans voted to impeach him. Only two of them still remain in Congress. Partisanship has defanged the threat of impeachment. Any resistance would likely be concentrated in the Senate. The current Democratic majority will very likely flip to the GOP if Trump wins, but still, senators have six-year terms that insulate most from imminent primary pressure. The chamber was frequently a thorn in Trump’s side in his first term, and it has never been a MAGA power base; only eight senators were hardcore MAGA enough to vote for throwing out Biden’s swing state wins in 2020. Yet the Senate has gotten more Trumpist. Only three of ten GOP senators who voted to convict Trump at his second impeachment trial (Susan Collins, Lisa Murkowski, and Bill Cassidy) will still be in office in 2025. Mitch McConnell, who’d bitterly feuded with Trump, is stepping down from his leadership post later this year. And a favorable map gives the party an opportunity to make big Senate gains. The bigger a majority that Republicans win, the less Collins’s and Murkowski’s opinions will matter. Nominations would be the first test to see if the Senate would still constrain Trump — swing senators could withhold their votes from nominees they believe to be extreme or unqualified. But there would likely be immense party pressure on senators to back Trump’s picks if he wins. And if the Senate blocks some, Trump may well try to slot them in anyway, by naming them “acting” appointees, and betting they’ll roll over and accept it. The fate of the filibuster, which in practice requires 60 Senate votes for all bills except the limited category of “budget reconciliation,” will also matter hugely. A new Republican Senate majority could change its rules to kill the filibuster. If the filibuster stays, Trump’s legislative ambitions will be sharply constrained; he will need Democratic votes to pass almost anything. If it goes, the sky’s the limit. Currently, key Senate Republicans are saying they want to keep the filibuster. Would they stick to that or cave to Trump’s demands to get rid of it? In the end, the Senate’s effectiveness in constraining Trump will come down to the fortitude of a few key Republicans in the chamber. The courts, the rule of law, and the Constitution One of Trump’s most consistently expressed opinions is that he would like his political enemies — a broadly defined group that stretches from Joe Biden to his own former appointees John Kelly and Bill Barr — to be prosecuted. Having largely failed to make that happen in his first term, in his second, Trump wants to tear down the wall separating Justice Department prosecution decisions from the White House. Yet that effort would face another important obstacle: the courts. Judges throughout the federal court system can throw out baseless prosecutions. They can also block Trump’s executive branch actions or strike down new laws passed by Congress. With lifetime appointments, judges are theoretically immune from political pressure and free to uphold the rule of law and the Bill of Rights against authoritarian threats. And judges frequently frustrated Trump during his first term — even, importantly, conservative judges, and judges Trump himself appointed. From the Supreme Court downwards, many of his judicial nominations were Federalist Society die-hards rather than MAGA die-hards, meaning they were often hard right but also willing to rule against Trump on various issues. The Supreme Court also refused to help his effort to steal the 2020 election, to Trump’s great annoyance — he has reportedly said that following the Federalist Society’s advice on appointees was one of his greatest mistakes. (Though, if he tried to make his own loyalist picks, he might have had difficulty getting them confirmed.) But there are some judges who do seem to be fully in the tank for the former president, like Aileen Cannon, who is overseeing Trump’s prosecution over classified documents in Florida, making rulings slanted in the former president’s favor and proceeding at a pace that rules out a trial before the election. The Supreme Court, too, could well do Trump a favor with a ruling that effectively delays his most important trial until after November — meaning, if Trump wins, it likely wouldn’t happen at all. There’s also the prospect that a more emboldened Trump could choose to simply defy the courts. It is far from clear how much any Supreme Court would be able to constrain a president truly bent on defying them. In 2021, while running for office, now-Sen. J.D. Vance (R-OH) urged a confrontation here. Vance said that Trump should fire thousands of civil servants, and “when the courts stop you, stand before the country, and say ‘The chief justice has made his ruling. Now let him enforce it.’” Still, the US Constitution and the courts upholding it present various other problems for a budding authoritarian. Strongmen rising to power in other democracies often change their countries’ constitutions. But the threshold for changing the US Constitution — two-thirds of both houses of Congress plus three-quarters of state legislatures — is so absurdly high that it’s functionally impossible to meet on any polarized topic. Effectively, that means the two-term limit that prevents Trump from running again can’t be revoked, except in the event of a total collapse of constitutional government. State and local governments: bulwarks of resistance? Another major obstacle for would-be American authoritarians is the dispersed nature of governmental power under federalism. States and cities elect their own governments and run their own elections. So under a Trump second term, like in his first, blue states and cities would surely continue to resist his agenda, filing lawsuits, refusing to cooperate with federal law enforcement on certain topics, and so on. But Trump’s team has been making plans about how to “enforce order” in blue America with the military. Some on Trump’s team have long been drawn to the idea of crushing demonstrations or riots via an old statute known as the Insurrection Act. Last year, the Washington Post reported that Trump’s team had drafted a second-term plan to invoke the act on his first day in office so he could “deploy the military against civil demonstrations.” What would happen next would be anyone’s guess. But a president using the power of the military to quell domestic dissent may be a first step down a path leading to further repression. Another area of confrontation could be elections. Trump has already set the precedent for how Republicans can deny any Democratic wins: just make baseless claims of rampant voter fraud in cities, evidence be damned. And one scary part of the 2020 election crisis is that it actually wouldn’t have been that difficult, if Republican officials in key states were sufficiently corrupt, to throw out Biden’s wins or at least stall the process of certifying the outcome. And yet, despite Trump’s pressure, key Republican governors, legislators, and election officials refused to steal the election in 2020. Since then, Congress approved changes to the Electoral Count Act to make any such attempts more difficult to pull off. And in 2022, importantly, “election denier” Republicans running for roles with oversight over elections in key swing states lost. The guardrails around elections still look to be in decent shape, but in the end, the system will only work if enough people in key posts agree to let it. The press and the public: Condition unclear Finally, beyond the government itself, both the press and the public can challenge and effectively constrain a would-be strongman leader. In Trump’s first term, if a government official got wind of a crazy or corrupt thing Trump wanted to do, the response was often to leak it to the press. Critical coverage and damning reporting about Trump was everywhere during his first term, and the mainstream media made it very clear that his claims of widespread voter fraud in 2020 were baseless. Nowadays, Trump is still being covered negatively. But the mainstream media as a whole seems less influential and important, than it was during Trump’s term, a time of soaring subscriptions, ratings, and web traffic. The audience is increasingly fractured, with conservatives inhabiting their own media ecosystem and young people looking at TikTok. Business models are shot, with widespread layoffs and even collapses of publications. Still, that pesky First Amendment means Trump doesn’t have many great options to shut up the press. During a second Trump administration, leaks would continue and critical reporting would be in ample supply. The real question is: Will the public care? Currently, Trump is doing better in the polls than at any point in his previous two presidential campaigns. Per polling, he is the favorite to win. So in one sense, the public is more in his corner than ever before. But there are other signs that the intensity of Trump’s support is down. His small-dollar donations have declined. Traffic to conservative media outlets is plunging. There have been no sequels to the January 6 violence yet. All this is likely stemming from a broader, bipartisan trend toward reduced engagement in politics. Political drama was omnipresent during the Trump years, but during Biden, the public has increasingly tuned out. (Hence those declining ratings and web traffic numbers.) On the left, the main issue spurring activist energy isn’t defeating Trump — it’s protesting Israel’s war in Gaza, including Biden’s support of it. If Trump wins, would left-of-center society mobilize to check him like they did during the travel ban rollout, and at other points in his first term? Or are too many people now too burned out and disillusioned to care? The silver lining is that the far right doesn’t seem to have mass support and enthusiasm throughout society as demonstrated by the rising fascist dictators of the past. But authoritarianism can rise due to apathy, too, if people don’t care enough to stop it. Has Trump lost his sense of self-restraint? In part, it’s reassuring that there are so many guardrails in the American political system. And yet none of these are automatic or, necessarily, permanent. Yes, we have a system with laws and norms and institutions. But in the end, whether this system continues to function depends on the choices of the individual people in these institutional roles. “There are a lot of people right now who are thinking, ‘What legal steps do I have to constrain a wannabe autocrat?’ and are preparing for those battles,” said Rothkopf. Democracy’s future would also depend on Trump’s own choices and capabilities. One question is about Trump’s competence. Some believe that, even if Trump in his heart of hearts would like to impose an authoritarian agenda, he simply lacks the competence, focus, and discipline to make it happen. Others worry that his loyalists have already gotten far more experience in how to get their way in government, and that they’ve had four years to stew over why they failed so often last time and plan about how to do things differently next time. But even an effort as shambolic as Trump’s effort to steal the 2020 election can still be quite dangerous, as the violence of January 6 showed. A second question is about Trump’s own willingness to restrain himself. Often, during his first term, it was the president himself who chose to back down from some provocative action. He had a sense of political self-preservation that often spurred him to step back from the brink — calculating this firing or that action would be too far. This self-control badly weakened as he tried to overturn Biden’s win. Pundits and top Republicans initially assured us that there would be nothing to worry about. “It’s not like he’s plotting how to prevent Joe Biden from taking power,” one anonymous GOP official told the Washington Post that November. They thought they had Trump figured out, but the president stopped listening to the advisers counseling restraint, instead escalating the crisis more and more, leading to the chaos on January 6. Still, even during that crisis, Trump could have gone further. For instance, he could have installed Jeffrey Clark at the top of the Justice Department, if he really wanted to. But that political self-preservation instinct meant he still feared the fallout from other top DOJ officials resigning in protest. Trump, if he returns to power, will have no future reelection to make him worry about voters this time. And his rhetoric during his years out of office has grown far more extreme. If Trump has lost any inclination toward restraint, and he really wants to drive headlong into the guardrails, he could do it. And then we’ll really see how strong they still are.