Florida Governor Ron DeSantis has shown himself uniquely skilled at attracting attention beyond the borders of his home state.  Just this month, DeSantis blocked state funds for the Tampa Bay Rays stadium after players voiced support for gun control in the wake of the mass shooting in Uvalde, Texas.  He’s also continuing a fight to punish the Disney Corporation for criticizing Florida’s so-called Don’t Say Gay law.  An Ivy League-educated anti-élitist firebrand, he is willing to pick a fight with anyone—reporters, health officials, teachers, Mickey Mouse—to grab a headline. DeSantis “practically radiates ambition,” the staff writer Dexter Filkins tells David Remnick. “He sounds like Trump, except that he speaks in complete sentences. … He’s very good at staking out a position and pounding the table and saying, I’m not giving in to the liberals in the Northeast.” Yet despite having been anointed by Donald Trump in his primary election, DeSantis has refused to “kiss the ring,” and many see DeSantis as a possible opponent to Trump in a 2024 Republican primary.

Michael R. Jackson’s Tony and Pulitzer Prize-winning musical “A Strange Loop” features a Black queer writer named Usher, who works as an usher, struggling to write a musical about a Black queer writer. Jackson’s work tackles the terror of the blank page alongside the terrors of the dating scene, and it speaks in frank and heartbreaking terms about Usher’s attempt to navigate gay life among Black and white partners. Hilton Als talked with Jackson about how he found inspiration in his own experience seeking identity and community. “I started writing the original monologue—building a sort of life raft for myself—to understand myself,” Jackson said. “It wasn’t until I got to a place of understanding that in my life I was caught up in a loop of self-hatred, that I could see what Usher’s problem was, and therefore what the structure of the piece was that would lead him out of that and into a better place.”

“A Strange Loop” is playing now at the Lyceum Theatre, on Broadway.

Ian Frazier, who has chronicled American life for The New Yorker for more than forty years, travelled to a house in Fort Collins, Colorado, where three roommates build, fly, and race drones. Jordan Temkin, Zachry Thayer, and Travis McIntyre were among the early professional drone racers in the sport, piloting the tiny devices through complex courses at upward of eighty miles an hour. Drones have had an enormous impact on military strategy, and the commercial applications seem limitless, but to these pilots drones exist in the strange overlap between pure adrenaline and big money that defines pro sports.

This piece originally aired on February 9, 2018.

The Korey Stringer Institute, at the University of Connecticut, is named after an N.F.L. player who died of exertional heatstroke. The lab’s main research subjects have been athletes, members of the military, and laborers. But, with the extreme heat wrought by climate change, even mild exertion will put more and more of us in harm’s way; in many parts of the United States, a combined heat wave and power outage could cause staggering fatalities. Dhruv Khullar, a New Yorker contributor, practicing physician, and professor of health policy, visited the Stringer Institute to undergo a heat test—walking uphill, for ninety minutes, in a hundred-and-four-degree heat—to better understand what’s happening. “I just feel extremely puffy everywhere,” Khullar sighed. “You’d have to cut my finger off just to get my wedding ring off.” By the end of the test, he spoke of experiencing cramps, dizziness, and a headache. Khullar discussed the dangers of heatstroke with Douglas Casa, the lab’s head, who nearly died of the condition as a young athlete. “Climate change has taken this into the everyday world for the everyday American citizen. You don’t have to be a laborer working for twelve hours; you don’t have to be a soldier in training,” Casa tells him. “This is making it affect so many people, even just during daily living.” Although the treatment for heat-related illness is straightforward, Casa says that implementation of simple preventive measures remains challenging—and that there is much we need to do to better prepare for the global rise in temperatures.

This segment originally aired on August 25, 2023.

Donald Trump is the most tech-friendly President in American history. He enlisted social media to win office; he became a promoter—and beneficiary—of cryptocurrency, breaking long-standing norms around conflicts of interest; and, in his second term, he brought Elon Musk, the world’s wealthiest tech baron, to the White House, to disrupt the federal government in the manner of a Silicon Valley startup. While Musk was eventually ousted— or “flamed out,” as Katie Drummond puts it, for being “loud”—the influence of DOGE continues to reshape our lives in ways we have barely begun to understand.

Drummond is the global editorial director of Wired, and in this episode she talks with the New Yorker Washington correspondent Evan Osnos about the unique intersection of technology and politics, which Wired has tracked assiduously. Tech companies and A.I., Osnos notes, are driving the agenda in the Trump Administration. “If they’ve learned anything from what Elon Musk was able to accomplish,” Drummond says, “it’s that this is open season.” Drummond also sounds a cautionary note about some of the doomsday framing of the A.I. revolution. Corporate leaders “want this technology to sound as big and daunting and powerful and impressive and scary as they possibly can,” she explains. In some cases, “that hyperbole masks the fact that these individuals have a stake in exactly the scenarios that they are outlining.”

This segment originally aired on The Political Scene on July 26, 2025.

Mohammed R. Mhawish was living in Gaza City during Israel’s invasion, in the immediate aftermath of the October 7th attack. He witnessed the invasion for months and reported on its devastating consequences for Al Jazeera, The Nation, and other outlets. After his home was targeted in an Israeli strike, which nearly killed him, he fled Gaza. In The New Yorker, [he’s written](https://www.newyorker.com/news/the-lede/treating-gazas-collective-trauma) about mental-health workers who are trying to treat a deeply traumatized population, while themselves suffering from starvation, the loss of loved ones, their own injuries—and the constant, remorseless death toll around them. “They were telling me, ‘We cannot wait for the war to stop to start healing—or for ourselves to heal—to start healing others,’” Mhawish relates to David Remnick. “I understood they were trying to heal by helping others heal.”

Spike Lee and Denzel Washington first worked together on “Mo’ Better Blues,” released in 1990. Washington starred as a trumpet player trying to make a living in jazz clubs; Lee, who directed the film, also played the musician’s hapless manager. They later worked together on “Malcolm X” and other films, but it has been nearly twenty years since their last collaboration, the hugely successful “Inside Man.” So the new film “Highest 2 Lowest” is something of a reunion. “I’ve become a better director, working with Mr. Denzel Washington,” Lee tells David Remnick. “It’s not about just what’s on the script. It has to be deeper than that.” “Highest 2 Lowest” is an adaptation of a 1963 movie by Akira Kurosawa, who has been a major influence on Lee. “The script came to me first,” Washington explains. “I hoped that Spike would be interested in it, so I called him up. He said, ‘Send it to me.’ He read it. He said, ‘Let’s make it,’ and here we are.” Washington plays a music mogul targeted in a ransom plot; the feature is a crime drama with a message. “This film is about morals, and what someone will do and won’t do,” Lee says. The audience “will ask themselves, ‘If you’re in this situation, would you pay the ransom?’ ”

With seven decades in film and television, Clint Eastwood is undeniably a Hollywood institution. Emerging first as a star in Westerns, then as the embattled cop in the Dirty Harry films, the ninety-five-year-old filmmaker has directed forty features and appeared in more than sixty. The film critic Richard Brody just reviewed a new biography of Eastwood. “What fascinated me above all are the origins of Clint Eastwood-ness—the way he had an aura that preceded him before his career in movies.” Brody joins David Remnick to pick three of the films that set Eastwood apart as an artist: “Play Misty for Me,” his 1971 directorial début; “Bird,” his bio-pic about Charlie Parker; and “Sully,” starring Tom Hanks as the heroic pilot Chesley Sullenberger.