Abortion has blasted its way back to the forefront of American politics, catapulted by a single conservative judge in Texas. In response to complaints from anti-abortion groups questioning the safety of the abortion pill mifepristone, he issued a preliminary ruling that invalidated the Food and Drug Administration’s approval of the drug 23 years ago. An hour later, a liberal judge in Washington state ordered the FDA to keep the pill available.

These duelling decisions have set off a tangle of legal pathways expected to end at the US Supreme Court – which eliminated a federal guarantee to abortion last year, in a case that overturned Roe v Wade after 49 years. They left abortion policy to the individual states.

Polls show that a growing majority of Americans favour abortion rights

On the face of it, the same six conservative justices who struck down Roe would appear to favour the Texas judge. But maybe not. The abortion pill case has huge consequences, and not just for the millions of women who have used the pill. It also holds enormous implications for the American pharmaceutical industry, by raising the question of whether FDA protocols for approving other drugs, long held as the gold standard worldwide, could be questioned.

There is additional uncertainty over how drug companies would continue developing treatments for other conditions if FDA approvals can be challenged by non-scientific bodies. Beyond all that, polls show that a growing majority of Americans (about two thirds) favour abortion rights, despite a close-to-even split between states with strong prohibitions, or outright bans, and others with less restrictive policies. These include allowing legal abortions later in pregnancy and keeping in place exceptions for pregnancies caused by rape, incest or threats to the life of the mother.

A prime example of the shifting national sentiment came last month in Wisconsin, a key presidential battleground state that Joe Biden won in 2020 by less than one percentage point. Vying for an open seat on the Wisconsin Supreme Court, Janet Protasiewicz, a liberal county judge in Milwaukee, defeated a conservative, anti-abortion candidate by eleven points. That gave Democrats a 4-3 majority on the court for the first time in fifteen years and put in jeopardy the state’s abortion ban passed in 1849.

While Democrats celebrated her victory, it spotlighted a difficult choice for Republicans nationwide: continue to fight for the national ban that many anti-abortion groups and conservative lawmakers want, or moderate their stance in the face of public opinion. Whatever they decide, along with a pending Supreme Court ruling on the pill, will have a huge bearing on elections next year.

As the legal arguments play out, states led by Democrats have been stockpiling mifepristone while those led by Republicans are narrowing abortion access. The latest moves came in Florida and North Dakota. Both enacted a ban against any abortion beyond six weeks of conception, a time many women don’t even know they are pregnant. In North Dakota, exceptions were made for rape, incest and medical emergency.

A fall and rise in Tennessee
Several days after three children and three staff members were shot dead at a private Christian school in Nashville – just another in the endless stream of mass shootings in America – three Democrat Tennessee lawmakers, two black men and one white woman, staged a protest in the House chamber to press for action against gun violence. When their microphone was intentionally turned off, one of them used a bullhorn.

Their actions clearly breached House etiquette rules, angering Republicans who hold a 3 to 1 majority. But rather than invoke a light punishment, like censure, Republicans voted to expel them. The two blacks were ousted; their white colleague survived by a single vote. With a packed gallery erupting in cries of “shame” and “fascists,” the newly-named “Tennessee Three” charged Republicans with trampling democracy by stifling peaceful dissent. Asked by reporters why she eluded expulsion, Representative Gloria Johnson of Knoxville said: “It may have something to do with the colour of our skin.”

Within a few days, local officials voted to return the two black lawmakers, Justin Jones of Nashville, 27, and Justin Pearson of Memphis, 28, to their seats – but not as chastened representatives. Instead, the episode became the latest example of a party in power trampling the minority – in this case, with racial overtones. As stories of their treatment went viral, the Justins took their vacated seats as national figures, avatars of a new wave of young activists focused on such issues as climate change, the proliferation of guns and the narrowing of abortion rights. With passionate speeches and fists raised upon their return, they reminded older politicians of black civil rights leaders of the 1950s and 1960s.

It’s not surprising Republicans acted against them, and Democrats in the same position have done the same. One-party rule has grown among the states, largely due to “gerrymandering”, the once-a-decade redrawing of state and national districts to advantage the majority party. Currently, it has given Republicans total legislative control in 28 states, Democrats 18. The others share power.

Vice President Kamala Harris made a surprise visit to Nashville and praised the three for showing “courage in the face of an extreme tragedy”. President Biden spoke to them by phone and invited them to the White House. “Our country needs to take action on gun violence,” Biden said on Twitter. “To do that, we need more voices like theirs speaking out.”

While polls show that a majority of Americans wants gun control measures, lawmakers don’t pass them

Rally ’round the polls?
Projections that Hillary Clinton would easily defeat Donald Trump for president in 2016 were all we needed to amplify scepticism over polls. Now we have two other head-scratchers.

Dominic Cummings, erstwhile aide to Boris Johnson and architect of Brexit, wrote on Substack last month that “a small team” examined 2024 US election possibilities using “many times more data than normal polls,” including AI-generated “synthetic” voters. The result: Donald Trump will defeat President Biden. He discusses methodology and refers readers to “some data and a little analysis below.” There is some analysis, but no data. “I can’t explain why I did this,” he wrote, “nor will I publish everything or the underlying data.”

Hardly confidence building, which leaves open the question of whether AI voters are as reliable as real ones. Anyway, with eighteen months before the election and Trump’s legal status very much uncertain, US-based polls generally show the race too close to call. But if Trump beats Biden next year, remember where you heard it first.

Next is a recent Gallup poll that shows a surprising turn among US voters. It found that almost twice as many, 49 per cent, identified as independent, rather than Republican or Democrat, 25 per cent each. Gallup has been asking the same question for almost twenty years, always based on phone calls to a minimum of 10,000 people, and only once before in that period did more people identify as independent, 50 per cent in January 2021, just at the start of the Biden administration. It came down nine points the following month, returning the more usual low 40s.

The question is, why the uptick now? It could be an anomaly, or it could be that voters are finally fed up with the extremism that makes agreement on anything almost impossible. Two obvious examples: while polls show that a majority of Americans wants sensible gun control measures, lawmakers don’t pass them. Despite plentiful evidence of planet warming, Americans have resisted more aggressive tactics to end reliance on fossil fuels.

Jeff Jones, a Gallup analyst, says the poll reflects attitudes of younger voters. “It was never unusual for younger adults to have higher percentages of independents than older adults,” he told Axios. “What is unusual is that as Gen X and millennials get older, they are staying independent rather than picking a party, as older generations tended to do.” He also noted a larger trend, “the disillusionment with the political system, US institutions and the two parties, which are seen as ineffectual, too political and too extreme.”

A royal vacuum
A mea culpa on the occasion of King Charles’ coronation: I don’t follow the royals much, nor do I know of many friends who do. I know Queen Elizabeth died last September and I joined other Americans in honouring her remarkable life. I knew about the new king although I did have to ask my wife, “He’s Elizabeth’s son, right?”

I am also aware that royals squabble a bit; what family doesn’t. But I get mixed up over who’s who, how they’re related and what the divisive issues are, apart from nobody seems to like Meghan. I gather she and Harry (right?) have kids, but I don’t know their names.

So, what accounts for my ignorance about the British royal family? I’d have to say, it’s the competition. Americans have always had our own monarchal families – Kennedys, Bushes, Trumps, Kardashians, Murdochs, the Real Housewives of Beverly Hills. Even fictional families seize our attention, like The Sopranos, the Roys on Succession and the ersatz royals on The Crown.

Granted, millions watch major (real) royal events on television like a wedding, Diana’s funeral all those years ago and Charles taking the throne. But those are one-offs and don’t sustain our interest the way the rich and powerful do here as constant figures from our politics and HBO.

The best example, of course, is the Trump family: a thrice-married patriarch, father of five and former president, now under criminal indictment. Trumps are in the news almost daily. The Kardashians, whose father represented OJ Simpson in his murder trial, have built enormous wealth and fame through reality television and business. OK, the Beverly Hills housewives aren’t really a family, but they do appear rich enough to keep lots of Americans paying attention.

The thing is, we Americans are riveted by wealth and fame. I’ve always thought that Trump’s long-running reality show, The Apprentice, accounted for his gravitational pull on so many who saw him as aspirational, the epitome of class and success.

So, my apologies, King Charles III. Congratulations and Godspeed. But I just don’t have the bandwidth to keep an eye on you.

Michael Janofsky is a writer and editor in Los Angeles. He previously spent 24 years as a correspondent for The New York Times