Last Updated on January 9, 2026 by Chicago Policy Review Staff

For decades, the National Collegiate Athletic Association (NCAA) prohibited student-athletes from profiting off their name, image, and likeness (NIL). That changed in 2021 when the Supreme Court, in NCAA v. Alston, held that the NCAA could not restrict education-related benefits for athletes. Although the ruling did not mandate NIL rights directly, it signaled that the NCAA’s amateurism model was legally vulnerable and opened the door for the organization to lift its ban on athlete compensation. Within months, the NCAA issued an interim policy allowing student-athletes to earn from endorsements, sponsorships, and entrepreneurial ventures. This decision unleashed a new marketplace projected to surpass $1.5 billion by 2025. Yet four years into the NIL era, that market operates with no federal oversight, leaving athletes to navigate a patchwork of state laws, conflicting disclosure rules, and inconsistent protections.

The NCAA’s NIL database shows that the average student-athlete earns about $21,000, while the median athlete earns under $500, illustrating a vast gap between top earners and the majority of players. Power Five, which consists of the Atlantic Coast Conference (ACC), Big Ten Conference, Big 12 Conference, Pac-2 Conference, and Southeastern Conference (SEC), athletes benefit from multimillion-dollar collective deals and brand partnerships, while athletes at smaller institutions rarely see meaningful returns. According to HOK’s NIL’s Impact on College Sports report, NIL earnings currently stem from three main sources: collectives, brand partnerships, and athlete-led entrepreneurial ventures, with a fourth revenue stream expected in 2025 that will allow universities to share roughly $20 million per school with players. This projection comes from anticipation that once schools begin distributing a share of broadcast, sponsorship, and postseason revenue directly to athletes. Power Five programs are projected to have the financial capacity to contribute amounts around $20 million. This shift is not federal legislation; rather, it is market-driven, shaped by recent settlements and ongoing antitrust pressure. As larger programs generate the bulk of media and game-day revenue, they will also be the ones able to distribute the greatest per-athlete share. This change will likely deepen the divide between major programs and smaller schools, concentrating NIL wealth in football and basketball because those two sports dominate television contracts, drive ticket sales, and anchor university sponsorship agreements. As a result, collectives and brands invest disproportionately in athletes from those sports, reinforcing the existing resource gap.

This economic imbalance mirrors the regulatory one. States have raced to pass NIL laws to attract talent and protect local universities, in the process producing widely divergent standards. Some states mandate detailed reporting of NIL contracts, while others explicitly bar disclosure. Twenty states currently compel athletes to share NIL deal data, while six states classify that information as confidential. The result is a fragmented system where an athlete’s rights depend more on location than on fair and consistent policy.

The NCAA’s 2024 transparency rule was meant to address this inconsistency by requiring disclosure of any NIL agreement exceeding $600. Under this rule, schools must collect contract terms and compensation data and then share de-identified summaries with the NCAA. In theory, this would create a centralized NIL database that will allow athletes to understand market rates and avoid exploitative contracts. But enforcement remains uncertain. Legal challenges, such as the 2024 federal injunction in Tennessee blocking limits on NIL contracts, have delayed the rule’s rollout. Without sustained implementation, NIL data remains largely inaccessible, leaving athletes vulnerable to manipulation by agents, boosters, and collectives.

Transparency is not just an economic issue but one of equity. Georgetown Law’s Technology Review notes that the lack of verified NIL data perpetuates gender and racial disparities by obscuring how deals are distributed across different groups of athletes. Male athletes in revenue-generating sports capture most NIL income because they receive the majority of national broadcasts, donor attention, and collective funding. At the same time, Black athletes are overrepresented in those revenue sports yet remain disproportionately vulnerable to predatory contracts and inconsistent state protections. Women’s teams and athletes from smaller programs struggle for visibility and bargaining power. Without a federal mandate for consistent disclosure, Title IX enforcement mechanisms cannot accurately assess whether schools distribute NIL opportunities equitably.

Despite bipartisan recognition of the problem, Congress has failed to enact NIL legislation. Scholars at the Houston Law Review point to several causes: state-level self-interest, university resistance to oversight, and the NCAA’s desire to retain authority without assuming legal responsibility. This deadlock allows wealthier programs to continue benefiting from a weak regulatory structure.

Market incentives also discourage reform. HOK’s analysts estimate that Power Five programs will soon share tens of millions in direct revenue with athletes because their media contracts, donor networks, and postseason payouts far exceed those of smaller institutions. Georgetown Law’s Technology Review observes that these programs already attract the majority of collective funding, brand deals, and national exposure, creating little incentive for them to support uniform federal standards that might narrow their advantages. Scholars writing in the Houston Law Review similarly argue that wealthier universities view federal oversight as a potential threat to the competitive edge they gain from operating under favorable state laws. The existing policy vacuum persists because it allows those already benefiting from the system to maintain dominance without the scrutiny or obligations a federal framework would impose.

The consequences extend beyond sports. The absence of coherent policy undermines public confidence in higher education governance, exposes universities to antitrust risks, and intensifies the perception that NIL is an unregulated labor market. The longer Congress delays action, the more NIL diverges from its educational purpose. The NCAA introduced NIL to allow athletes to benefit from their own publicity rights while still participating in an education-centered system, not to create an opaque marketplace where compensation depends on donor politics and inconsistent state rules.

Congress should also create an independent NIL oversight body with authority to audit data, enforce compliance, and issue guidance similar to how the Consumer Financial Protection Bureau governs financial practices. Such an entity could harmonize state and NCAA standards while preserving athlete privacy and institutional autonomy.

The NIL era has transformed college athletics into a multibillion-dollar enterprise but continues to operate without coherent oversight. The absence of federal policy has produced an inequitable system defined by opacity and privilege. A federal NIL framework grounded in transparency, fairness, and accountability is essential to restore balance. Student-athletes deserve consistent protections no matter where they play, and the future of college sports depends on establishing those protections now.

Last Updated on January 8, 2026 by Chicago Policy Review Staff

At 4:21 a.m. EST on January 3, a message appeared on the White House’s official X account that shook the international community. The message stated: “The United States of America has successfully carried out a large-scale strike against Venezuela,” adding that President Nicolás Maduro, “along with his wife,” had been “captured and flown out of the Country.” Within minutes, the announcement spread across diplomatic channels, newsrooms, and social media feeds around the world.

If accurate, the operation appeared to signal the beginning of the end of the Chavez-Maduro dictatorship, an outcome considered unattainable through elections or institutional means. The immediate reaction, however, was not limited to relief. It was accompanied by unease over the legality of the operation itself. Within hours, the United Nations warned that the action could constitute a “dangerous precedent” and expressed that it was “deeply concerned that the rules of international law have not been respected,” emphasizing the need for “full respect — by all — of international law, including the UN Charter.” 

These concerns are based mainly on Article 2(4) of the UN Charter  which requires states to “refrain in their international relations from the threat or use of force against the territorial integrity or political independence of any state.” It must be noted that the exceptions to this rule are narrow: Security Council authorization or self-defense in response to an armed attack. Neither appears clearly applicable here. The operation was not authorized by the Security Council, and U.S. claims of self-defense, framed as a response to transnational criminal threats, have raised questions toward satisfying the requirement of an armed attack attributable to Venezuela as a state in order to argue self-defense. 

While the operation raises potential issues under international law, its ultimate legality is a matter for international legal institutions and tribunals. The more immediate question is whether focusing only on legality overlooks the fact that Maduro’s rule had already lost political and moral legitimacy, making the operation at least arguably legitimate. Recognizing legitimacy in such exceptional cases does not mean endorsing regime change as a general policy tool. Rather, it means acknowledging that extreme failures of political authority can outpace the law’s ability to respond.

The distinction between legality and legitimacy in cases of external intervention is not new. Marko Milanović, when discussing scenarios of external intervention back in 2017 argued that “the position that an intervention is legally prohibited but that it can nonetheless be politically legitimate or morally justified in exceptional circumstances is conceptually perfectly coherent.” In that rationale, he added that “something that is lawful is not necessarily just” and, in that sense, “we can choose to break the law for higher-order considerations, morality and justice, if we are “willing to pay the price of non-compliance.”  Nonetheless, he cautioned that breaking the law on such grounds “should not be done lightly,” as it risks undermining the authority of the law. 

Venezuela presents precisely such an exceptional case. Maduro’s continued hold on power rested on elections held in 2024 that allegedly granted him victory, despite well documented irregularities. In fact, more than 50 countries publicly refused to recognize the results. The Secretary General of the Organization of American States (OAS) warned that taking the results as valid was “validating electoral fraud” and would mean “turning one’s back on the Venezuelan people who, amid a brutal wave of repression, have continued to demand their right to live in freedom.” Along the same lines, the European Union concluded that “Nicolás Maduro lacks the legitimacy of a democratically elected president.” By the time of his removal, Maduro’s claim to democratic authority, and, with it, the legitimacy of his mandate, had already collapsed in the eyes of much of the international community.

That collapse was mirrored in the regime’s humanitarian consequences which have lasted over a decade. According to Human Rights Watch, as of 2024 more than 20 million Venezuelans, out of a population of roughly 28.8 million, “live in multidimensional poverty due to economic precarity and poor public services,” while 14.2 million face “severe humanitarian needs.” Also, the same organization noted that since 2014 in Venezuela more than 17,000 people have been subjected to “politically motivated arrests.” The United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees estimates that nearly 7.9 million Venezuelans have fled the country in search of protection and a viable future. In parallel, the United Nations Human Rights Council has documented that, during the regime’s tenure, Venezuela’s security forces, particularly the National Guard, have been implicated in systematic human rights violations, including arbitrary detention, gender-based violence, killings, and acts of torture, frequently accompanied by impunity.

These figures do not determine the legality of external intervention, but they help explain why the prospect of Maduro’s removal was met with public celebration among Venezuelans abroad, particularly in countries hosting the largest Venezuelan communities including Colombia, Peru, the United States, Brazil, and Spain. That reaction matters — it locates claims of legitimacy not in abstract doctrine, but in the judgment of the population most directly subjected to the regime’s rule.

International law is indispensable precisely because it restrains power. But it is not morally self-sufficient. As Milanović reminds us, there are circumstances in which strict compliance with the law may coexist with injustice, and where breaking the law, while acknowledged as such, may be defended as acceptable. Accepting that possibility does not weaken international law; pretending it does not exist risks weakening it far more.

The Venezuela episode thus forces an uncomfortable but necessary reckoning. The question is not whether legality matters. It does, and profoundly so. The question is whether legitimacy can exist where legality is contested, and whether refusing to confront that distinction leaves international law ill-equipped to grapple with the most extreme failures of political authority.

What follows from this distinction is a demand for accountability, not a license for unchecked action. Because legitimacy cannot excuse conduct that violates international law, such claims should instead trigger heightened scrutiny by international legal institutions and multilateral bodies such as international tribunals and human rights protection mechanisms, capable of assessing state responsibility. In such cases, the “price of non-compliance” Milanović describes is not rhetorical: It consists of exposure to legal review, adverse judgments, reputational costs, and, where internationally wrongful acts are established, obligations of reparation. Treating legitimacy as an exceptional justification does not absolve states of responsibility; it reaffirms that even morally defended departures from the law must remain subject to law.

Last Updated on January 8, 2026 by Chicago Policy Review Staff

Right-to-Work (RTW) laws, which prohibit mandatory union membership as a condition of employment, have been a focal point of policy debates across the United States. Over the past decade, several Midwest states, including Michigan, Indiana, and Wisconsin, have adopted RTW laws, shifting the labor landscape in a region historically characterized by strong union activity. The non-RTW states in the Midwest include Illinois, Ohio and Minnesota. For low-wage workers, a demographic often reliant on collective bargaining for better pay and workplace protections, the consequences of these laws have been particularly significant.  

RTW laws date back to the mid-20th century, introduced as a response to the growing influence of labor unions. Proponents of these laws argue they protect workers’ freedom by ensuring that union membership and dues payment are voluntary. They also claim that RTW laws attract businesses by lowering labor costs, thereby fostering economic growth and job creation.  

Critics, however, contend that these laws weaken unions, reducing their effectiveness at negotiating higher wages and better benefits. For low-wage workers, many of whom already live on the economic margins, this could mean diminished bargaining power and poorer labor standards. The Midwest’s adoption of RTW laws marked a significant policy shift, raising questions about their implications for workers in the region’s manufacturing, retail, and service sectors.  

Impacts on Employment and Job Creation  

One of the primary arguments for RTW laws is their potential to create jobs by attracting businesses seeking lower labor costs. In the Midwest, research has found an increase in business investment following the adoption of these laws. These trends are particularly evident in manufacturing, where companies often view reduced union influence as an advantage.   

However, the correlation between RTW laws and job creation is far from conclusive. Critics argue that while businesses may relocate to RTW states, the quality of jobs they bring often falls short. Many positions offer low wages, limited benefits, and minimal job security; conditions that disproportionately affect low-wage workers.  

Figure 1: Hourly Median Wage in RTW vs Non-RTW States 

Figure 1 illustrates the stark contrast in hourly median wages between RTW and non-RTW states. While RTW states may attract businesses, the wage disparity highlights the challenges faced by low-wage workers in these regions. For example, in Indiana, a state with RTW laws, the median wage in 2023 was $21.86/hour compared to $23.43/hour in Illinois, a non-RTW state.  

Wages and Living Standards  

Studies comparing RTW and non-RTW states suggest that workers in RTW states, on average, earn less than their counterparts in states where union membership remains strong. An analysis of union membership trends in RTW vs. non-RTW states shows a clear correlation between reduced union density and increased income inequality. As union influence declines, low-wage workers bear the brunt of wage stagnation, exacerbating economic vulnerability. For low-wage workers, even small reductions in earnings can exacerbate economic vulnerability and limit access to essential resources. Research, such as The Right to Work and American Inequality, highlights how RTW laws may contribute to growing wage disparities and economic inequality, emphasizing the uneven distribution of economic growth benefits.  

 Union Membership and Worker Protections  

  Unions have historically played a pivotal role in advocating for low-wage workers, securing not only higher wages but also critical benefits such as health insurance, paid leave, and workplace safety measures. In Midwest states that have adopted RTW laws, union membership has declined significantly, eroding the bargaining power that once enabled these gains. For instance, RTW laws may also influence work conditions such as hours and schedules, as detailed in The Impact of Right-to-Work Laws on Long Hours and Work Schedules.  

Figure 2: Union Membership Trends in the Midwest 

This graph showcases the decline in union membership across Midwest states following the adoption of RTW laws. The reduction in union density underscores the diminishing collective strength of workers in these regions. Between 2013 and 2023, union membership in RTW states dropped by an average of 25%, compared to a 10% decline in non-RTW states. This decline reduces workers’ ability to collectively negotiate for better wages and benefits.  

 Without the collective strength of unions, low-wage workers may find it harder to negotiate for benefits or challenge unfair labor practices. As a result, RTW laws could contribute to a widening gap in job quality between unionized and non-unionized workers.  

While the immediate effects of RTW laws on wages and union membership are apparent, their long-term implications remain less clear. Factors such as broader economic trends, shifts in industry practices, and state-specific conditions make it difficult to isolate the impact of RTW laws. For low-wage workers, these complexities underscore the need for nuanced evaluations that consider both short-term outcomes and potential future trajectories.  

Understanding the full impact of RTW laws requires ongoing research, particularly into their long-term effects on economic inequality and labor dynamics. As debates over RTW laws continue, it is essential to move beyond polarized arguments and focus on their tangible outcomes for the workers most affected. For policymakers, researchers, and advocates alike, the experiences of low-wage workers in the Midwest offer valuable insights into the broader implications of RTW laws in the U.S. labor market.  

Last Updated on December 28, 2025 by Chicago Policy Review Staff

The cluster visualization highlights how countries around the world are aligned based on the major  factors that shape their wellbeing. These include income, social support, healthy life expectancy,  freedom to make life choices, generosity, and trust in public institutions. By summarising these  indicators into two broad Wellbeing Dimensions, the figure above reveals the underlying patterns  that distinguish national wellbeing in a clear and intuitive way. The first dimension captures overall  socioeconomic strength, combining income, life expectancy, and social support to reflect the  material and social resources that enable people to lead stable and fulfilling lives. The second  dimension reflects civic and institutional quality, which includes freedom, generosity, and trust, and  shows how social cohesion and public confidence shape everyday experience. Naming each cluster  and labelling a small set of representative countries gives us an immediate sense of how the world is  organized across different levels of wellbeing. 

One of the clearest examples is the Nordic group, which includes Finland, Denmark, Iceland,  Sweden, and Norway. These countries appear tightly clustered in the very high wellbeing region of  the figure. Their close grouping is expected: despite national differences, they share strong public  services, extensive social support networks, low corruption, and high levels of institutional trust.  These features consistently place them at the top of global happiness rankings. Other parts of the  visualization show similar regional or structural patterns, with countries facing economic or  governance challenges grouping together in separate clusters.  

These clusters offer valuable insight for decision makers. They show that high wellbeing does not  arise from a single model but from different combinations of supportive institutions, social  

conditions, and economic resources. The Nordic cluster illustrates how sustained investment in  welfare systems and strong public trust can reinforce national wellbeing over time. At the other end  of the spectrum, the low wellbeing cluster, which includes countries such as Chad, Central African  Republic, and Afghanistan, faces limited public services, weaker institutions, and economic  instability. In contrast, the lower-middle wellbeing cluster, including nations like India, Nigeria, and  Pakistan, struggles with some structural barriers but generally has better socioeconomic or  institutional conditions than the low wellbeing group. Taken together, this five-cluster view provides  a practical map for understanding global wellbeing. Countries can use it to identify nations facing  similar conditions, learn from their strategies, and find realistic pathways toward stronger and more  sustainable wellbeing. 

The dataset used in this analysis comes from the World Happiness Report, available at https://worldhappiness.report/.

Last Updated on December 28, 2025 by Chicago Policy Review Staff

Eight million people have fled a country that is not at war. Parents cross borders with nothing but a child’s backpack. Hospitals function without electricity. Political dissidents vanish into military prisons. These are not abstractions; they are the lived conditions of a nation dismantled by its own government. 

Yet the discourse surrounding Venezuela remains filtered through a Trump-centric lens. Domestic viewers, pundits, politicians, and the media reframe the crisis as a referendum on the U.S. administration, a debate on imperialism, interventionism, or the Monroe Doctrine. What gets lost is the reality of the Venezuelan people, Nicolás Maduro’s dictatorial grip, and the subversion of the contract between the state and its citizens. 

This distorted lens, focuses not on what is happening to Venezuelans, but on what is happening in the American political ether. In prominent opinion pieces, regime change is dismissed as “incomprehensible,” yet Maduro’s election theft, his security forces, and Venezuela’s humanitarian collapse barely appear at all. While some may disagree with the president on a number of issues, the inability to separate policy from politics in today’s polarized climate is intellectual cowardice and journalistic malpractice. It is time to resist the reflexes of partisanship that have reduced human suffering to political discussions. 

The Maduro regime stole the 2024 election. The Venezuelan people categorically and democratically rejected the current government, 67% to 30%. The opposition collected voting tallies from approximately 80% of electronic voting machines, scanned and published them online for the world to verify. The UN noted that the regime’s refusal to publish disaggregated results has “no precedent in contemporary democratic elections.”  

There is a widening international consensus that Maduro is the illegitimate leader of Venezuela. Many Western countries have already imposed sanctions and refused recognition, while the regime has cemented its rule through force rather than public consent. 

Sanctions alone will not succeed. Neither will diplomatic non-recognition nor recognition of an alternative president. These tools failed not because they were misguided, but because the regime adapted: it replaced formal revenue streams with illicit ones, relied on Russia and China for backstopping, and maintained loyalty of the armed forces through patronage and surveillance. 

The optimist sees the United States as a defender of the free world and a beacon of democracy. Thus, it has both a moral obligation and strategic interest to actively support regime change in Venezuela. This should be understood not as an act of imperialism or domination, but as a defense of self-determination for the Venezuelan people against a regime that has forfeited any claim to legitimacy.  

Intervention carries risks, but these risks must be measured against the ongoing certainty of humanitarian deterioration, regional destabilization, and authoritarian entrenchment if Maduro remains in power. Intervention is a measured step to support the legitimate government, economically or militarily, in coordination with the regime-in-waiting. It must explicitly exclude nation-building or military occupation, both of which are unnecessary given the democratic infrastructure already present within Venezuela.  

The longer the Maduro regime remains insulated from meaningful pressure, the more deeply repression, criminal networks, and foreign adversaries become structurally embedded. 

Any external action should be limited in scope, conditional in duration, and explicitly tied to verifiable steps toward a democratic transition. The strategic objective must shift to degrade the repression infrastructure to fracture the loyalty of the armed forces, making continued allegiance to Maduro costlier than a transition in power. 

More importantly, the Venezuelan opposition has explicitly requested external support. María Corina Machado, the 2025 Nobel Peace Prize laureate, won the opposition primary in a landslide before being banned from holding office in a transparent political move. After her ally Edmundo González ran in her place and won decisively, she called on the United States to use military pressure as “the only way” to force Maduro from power. Machado has consistently supported America’s recent posture towards Maduro: “You need to raise the cost of staying in power and lower the cost of leaving power. Only when you do that, this regime will break down. And that’s where we’re moving toward right now.” 

Machado has a mandate that Maduro does not. The Democratic Unitary Platform, a coalition of ten parties representing social democrats, liberals, centrists, and moderate conservatives, unanimously supports this call. This transforms the entire debate; responding to their request is not imperialism, but solidarity with a people exercising their right to self-determination. 

This catastrophe was engineered. It began under Hugo Chávez, who concentrated power, politicized state institutions, and hollowed out economic governance, and continued under his immediate successor, Maduro, both of whom treated the state oil company, PDVSA, as a slush-fund for patronage. Following the 2003 strikes, Chávez fired over 18,000 skilled technicians and engineers, gutting the industry’s institutional knowledge overnight. He expropriated millions of acres of farmland and thousands of businesses, replacing productive private enterprise with corrupt state management. Maduro accelerated this destruction, responding to falling oil prices not with reform, but with hyperinflationary money printing and draconian price controls that emptied supermarket shelves.  

Venezuela’s economic collapse is the direct legacy of economic chokeholds that dismantled market mechanisms and ironically concentrated wealth amongst regime elites. There is no credible path to poverty reduction, currency stabilization, shortage resolution, or international investment attraction under the current government. Economic recovery requires political transition as a precondition. 

Under Chávez and especially under Maduro, over 25% of Venezuela’s population has fled; approximately  8 million people. This is the largest displacement crisis in Latin American history and the second largest worldwide, exceeded only by the Syrian refugee crisis spurred by its civil war. That is a staggering statistic, considering this exodus that occurred without a traditional war. 

The Venezuelan people are not the only ones strained by this crisis. Countries across Latin America bear the burden of the largest refugee flow in hemispheric history. One in twenty residents of Colombia is now Venezuelan, totaling 2.8 million refugees. Peru hosts 1.66 million. Ecuador, Chile, and Brazil have absorbed hundreds of thousands more. 

Beyond mismanagement, there is systematic repression. Following the July 2024 election, the regime killed 24 people in two days and arrested over 2,000 citizens. According to the human rights group Foro Penal, political prisoners now number nearly 2,000, a 745% increase compared to the previous years. 

Meanwhile, illegal activities run through the state account for an estimated 20% of the economy, including fuel smuggling, gold trafficking, and narco-trafficking. Venezuela’s security services and senior officials are directly implicated; the United States has indicted multiple regime figures, and the Cartel de los Soles operates as a state-embedded criminal network. 

Nowhere is this criminal expansion more visible than in the rise of the Tren de Aragua. Born in the Tocorón prison, this transnational syndicate has metastasized beyond Venezuela’s borders, establishing operations in Colombia, Chile, Peru, and now, the United States. U.S. authorities have linked the gang to human trafficking rings, sex work, and violent crimes in major American cities. The Treasury Department has designated them a transnational criminal organization, yet as long as their command-and-control structure remains protected by the Maduro regime in Caracas, domestic law enforcement is fighting a losing battle against a state-sponsored hydra. The birth of this type of transnational organization only occurs under a failed state, inflicts pain amongst all surrounding states, and has reverberating effects on the entire world. 

Maduro has demonstrated that he will sacrifice Venezuela’s future to preserve his power. He has been willing to sell off national resources to stay in office, reportedly negotiating with foreign leaders for sanction relief in exchange for preferential oil access. This showcases how little regard he has for the Venezuelan people; their national patrimony is merely a bargaining chip for his survival. 

Venezuela is an ally of Russia, China, Iran, and Cuba. Russia has provided over $17 billion in loans since 2006, deployed military advisors, and used PDVSA as a vehicle for sanctions evasion. China has provided over $60 billion in loans while Huawei has constructed surveillance and telecommunications infrastructure used by the regime to monitor dissidents. Iran collaborates with Venezuela on oil laundering and sanctions-evasion networks.  

Military action need not put Americans at risk or result in mass civilian casualties. Options include precision strikes against intelligence and military infrastructure to degrade the regime’s capacity for control; maritime embargo operations to block illicit oil shipments; targeted sanctions against paramilitary groups; cyber operations against command-and-control systems; and inducements for military defection. All proposed actions target regime capability, not population centers. This preserves civilian life while weakening the coercive tools that sustain authoritarian rule. 

The objective is a transitional governance framework led by the Democratic Unitary Platform, targeting free constitutional elections for parliament, judiciary, and executive within 12 to 18 months; full international monitoring by the OAS, EU, and Carter Center; the immediate and unconditional release of all political prisoners; and immediate stabilization measures. A security-sector reform plan must accompany the transition to prevent the reconstitution of the repressive state. 

Critics warn of a power vacuum, but they ignore the reality that Venezuela is already a vacuum filled by foreign adversaries and cartels. A democratic, stable Venezuela could become the most valuable U.S. partner in the region, furthering American interests in the hemisphere while easing the humanitarian and economic stress of the migration crisis. 

Economic and institutional reconstruction requires restoration of rule of law to pre-Chávez functionality; currency stabilization, potentially through dollarization; reopening of markets with appropriate regulation and profit-sharing with the Venezuelan people; oil sector transparency and international oversight; and creation of a sovereign wealth fund to prevent elites from siphoning wealth. 

Behind policy abstractions are millions of Venezuelans denied political freedom, economic opportunity, and basic dignity. They have chosen their leaders. Those leaders are asking for help. The question is whether democracies will answer. 

Continued Maduro rule means permanent humanitarian crisis, further regional destabilization, deeper entrenchment of adversary powers, and erosion of democratic norms across the hemisphere. 

This is not about American politics. It is about whether the United States will stand with a people who have democratically rejected authoritarianism and explicitly asked for support. Venezuela’s future will be decided one way or another. The only question is whether the world will remain a spectator or act in defense of a nation fighting for its freedom.

Last Updated on December 8, 2025 by Chicago Policy Review Staff

Across continents and institutions, the premise of queer equality is being tested anew. From legislative chambers to military ranks to public squares across the globe, LGBTQ+ people are confronting an unsettling pattern: rights once thought secure are again under siege. What connects these struggles is not only the backlash itself, but the systems — legal, cultural, and institutional — that allow regression to masquerade as debate.

This series, Rights in Retreat, explores that global tension through three distinct but resonant lenses. One lens examines how colonial legal inheritances continue to shape the criminalization and regulation of queer identity in parts of South Asia. Another considers the ways military institutions negotiate inclusion, often framing questions of equality as threats to discipline or readiness. A third interrogates the shifting political landscape in the United States, where the conversation about good policy has increasingly become a battleground for defining gender, identity, and belonging.

Together, these stories trace the shifting boundaries of belonging, how law, power, and national identity determine who is recognized as fully human. As global democracy wavers and rights recede, these conversations ask a single urgent question: What does the retreat of queer rights reveal about the health of democracy itself?

Sri Lankan activist and civil rights attorney Kaushy S. Arachchi (MPP ‘26) has spent her career navigating the colonial legacies that still criminalize queer identity. As part of the Rights in Retreat series, she speaks with Elliot Certain, Policy Chair of OUTPolitik, about global backlash, the persistence of outdated laws, and how true solidarity must center dignity and local leadership.

Elliot: Hi Kaushy. To start, could you introduce yourself?

Kaushy: Kaushy S. Arachchi! I’m originally from Sri Lanka. I began my career as a litigation lawyer focused on civil rights and later moved to non-profit work. I spent several years at EQUAL GROUND, which was the first LGBTQ+ rights organization in Sri Lanka. I started as the Projects and Legal Officer and eventually worked my way up to Deputy Executive Director. 

At EQUAL GROUND , I worked on information campaigns, public speaking, and managing landmark legal cases. Now that I’m in Illinois, I’m expanding into other areas of minority rights and the criminal legal system. 

Elliot: Around the world, including here in the United States, we’re seeing legislative and cultural backlashes against LGBTQ+ rights. From your perspective, what’s driving this regression? 

Kaushy: Honestly, the current backlash against LGBTQ+ people isn’t anything new. The arguments haven’t changed in decades. They come back in new packaging, but it’s the same ideas: that LGBTQ+ people spread HIV, that we’re corrupting children, that society is somehow ‘at risk’ if queer people have equal rights. 

Even in the U.S., we recently came close to seeing a challenge to same sex marriage equality, something that many people previously saw as settled. None of this is new. What’s happening is that old arguments are resurfacing in slightly different forms, and they gain traction when people let their guard down. 

Elliot: What does the phrase “Rights in Retreat” mean to you, either personally or professionally?

Kaushy: To me, a ‘retreat’ isn’t a sudden collapse. It’s the slow backsliding that happens after a big victory. Countries like the United States, Australia, and Canada made huge strides with marriage equality and partnership rights, but a win doesn’t mean the movement is over. Rights are cyclical, not linear. If you look at the feminist movement or the pro-choice movement in the US, Roe v. Wade was a massive victory. But people took their eyes off the ball, and that allowed opposition to grow and mobilize. That’s why rights recede. It’s not that the progress was wrong, just that it’s never a final destination. 

Elliot: Do you see the current backlash as temporary, or part of a deeper ideological shift backwards?

Kaushy: In the moment, [regression] feels deep and permanent. But a step backwards doesn’t mean you can’t take two steps forward a little later. Yes, we’re seeing ideological shifts, especially around trans rights. But I’m hopeful that we’re not going down in the trenches too far. Social change has never been a straight line. 

Elliot: Sri Lanka’s penal code still reflects colonial era laws. How have imported legal systems shaped present day discrimination?

Kaushy: Before British colonization, Sri Lanka had more freedom around sexual identity. There weren’t marriage laws in the formal sense. People lived together, polyamory existed openly in certain cities, there was flexibility.  British colonizers introduced anti-LGBTQ+ laws across South Asia: India, Sri Lanka, Malaysia, Singapore. In Sri Lanka, a particular difficulty arises with Section 365 that criminalizes same sex relations between men. In 1995, Parliament expanded it to ‘all persons’, making Sri Lanka one of the few countries that explicitly penalizes lesbian relationships. Then, there’s section 365A, which defines “gross indecency.” It’s incredibly vague and is often used against trans people or anyone who doesn’t conform to gender norms. Even holding hands in public can be interpreted as indecent. 

The strange part is that these laws are archaic and rarely enforced. But because we have parliamentary supremacy and no judicial activism, the courts have repeatedly said “Our hands are tied, only Parliament can repeal this.” To make things even more complicated, our Constitution also includes Article 16, which allows pre-constitutional laws, like these colonial laws, to remain in force. That’s why change is so difficult. 

Elliot: What are some of the biggest legal and cultural barriers to dismantling these frameworks?

Kaushy: Legally, Article 16 is a huge barrier. When I was at EQUAL GROUND , someone challenged a proposed repeal of Sections 365 and 365A as unconstitutional.  The Supreme Court once again upheld the values of human dignity and gave the green light on decriminalisation of consensual same sex relations. Unfortunately, this repeal never came through. Culturally, religion plays a major role. Buddhism doesn’t directly condemn same-sex relationships, and there’s often more gender and sexual freedom in Buddhist communities. Hinduism, too, has deities with dual identities and long histories of gender fluidity, so there’s room for acceptance.

But the Catholic Church and parts of the Muslim community hold more conservative views, and those perspectives influence the political landscape. So the cultural obstacles are layered: history, religion, colonial influence, and social norms all intersect.

Elliot: Are there strategies from the Global South that advocates in the US could learn from as America faces its own regression?

Kaushy: Absolutely. One misconception is that the Global South is always “catching up” to the West. But in some ways, South Asia has moved much faster. Sri Lanka has a national health policy for trans people that dates back to around 2016. There’s no surgery requirement to change your gender marker on official documents. Our registrar of births allows amendments to gender markers. It’s not perfect, but the infrastructure exists. Across South Asia, we also have the Yogyakarta Principles, which outline rights related to gender identity and expression. Nepal and Pakistan recognize a third gender.

What the U.S. can learn is humility—and the importance of seeing trans people as human beings first. In Sri Lanka, despite our legal challenges, there’s often a cultural openness that drives progress.

Elliot: Western governments often use human rights rhetoric to pressure other nations on LGBTQ+ issues. How can such advocacy avoid being paternalistic or neocolonial?

Kaushy: By grounding everything in human dignity. It’s a dignified act to come out as trans or gay, but being queer isn’t a choice. At the end of the day, we’re human beings, and we all deserve dignity.

When governments engage in conversations about LGBTQ+ rights, they need to find common ground that respects everyone involved. It can’t be the West lecturing the Global South. It has to be a partnership rooted in the shared understanding that human dignity is universal.

Elliot: What forms of solidarity from Western activists have been most meaningful for Sri Lankan advocates?

Kaushy: The most important thing is: don’t speak for us. Local activists in Sri Lanka work intentionally to frame this movement as homegrown. One of the biggest accusations we face is that LGBTQ+ rights are Western imports, so Western voices dominating the narrative only harms us.

Support works best when it’s collaborative. In 2022, the Human Dignity Trust in the UK supported us with legal expertise. They helped us navigate risks, provided counsel, and stood with us every step of the way—without ever taking over. That partnership helped produce a strong judgment in one of our key cases, resulting in a CEDAW landmark decision on the Criminalisation of Same Sex Conduct Between Women. So the role of Western supporters is to bolster local activists, not replace them. Lift from the bottom; don’t speak from the top.

Elliot: You’ve been very visible in your advocacy. How do you navigate the risks and responsibilities that come with that?

Kaushy: Before joining EQUAL GROUND, I knew the risks of advocating for LGBTIQ rights in Sri Lanka, specially as a lawyer working in a changing political climate. One way was to show that my advocacy comes from a professional responsibility and my passion for commitment to minority rights and not because of assumptions that could arise regarding my identity.

There were risks, for instance, a national newspaper published a list of names including mine to discredit our attempts of advocacy. At times, I had to be vague about explaining to some people my work, knowing it would have attracted criticism.

Yet, over time, I have chosen to wear my advocacy as a badge of pride, it’s part of who I am.  

Elliot: If you could rewrite one element of your country’s approach to equality tomorrow, what would it be?

Kaushy: First, I’d repeal Article 16 of the Constitution. It doesn’t just shield anti-LGBTQ+ laws. It also protects laws that enable child marriage. That’s how extreme it is. I would get rid of that.

I’d also reform Section 12, the equality clause, to explicitly include sexual orientation and gender identity. And I’d add a comprehensive right to life. In Sri Lanka, the right to life has been interpreted to include things like clean air and drinking water. It could also mean the right to live freely as a trans person, to access gender-affirming care without humiliation, to exist without fear.

Elliot: What gives you hope about the next generation of South Asian queer activists?

Kaushy: Young people today are unapologetic. They’re open, accepting, and unbothered by labels or expectations. Even during economic crises, Sri Lankan activists continued hosting Pride events, getting bigger and bolder each year. Parents bring their queer children to pride events. That’s something I could never have imagined when I started. My former boss at EQUAL GROUND  started the organization over two decades ago under threats so severe she sometimes had to go underground. Activists today still face risks, but the landscape has changed. They’re creative, resilient, and fearless. That gives me hope.

Elliot: Last question: how can students and advocates in places like Chicago stand in meaningful solidarity with your work?

Kaushy: Learn first. Many people don’t understand what criminalization actually means—they assume it’s simply “illegal to be gay,” but the legal landscape is more complicated.

Get to know the organizations in Sri Lanka that need support. When Pride season comes around, donations go a long way. Pro bono partnerships also matter. For example, Northwestern’s law clinic helped us prepare documents and evidence to submit shadow reports to UN Bodies. They spent weeks editing and shaping those materials. That kind of support is invaluable.

And finally, create spaces for dialogue like you’re doing now. These conversations help us see that the Global South and the U.S. are facing many of the same challenges, and we can draw strength from each other.

Elliot: Is there anything you’d like to emphasize before we wrap up?

Kaushy: Legal victories are important, but they’re not the end of a movement. Change happens in many places. Culture, community, economics, everyday life. And at the heart of it all is human dignity. That’s the value that runs through every human rights framework. We’re all human. We all deserve dignity.

Interview edited for brevity and approved by Kaushy Arachchi.

Last Updated on December 8, 2025 by Chicago Policy Review Staff

As with most edible foods in our homes, there is an expiration date for action on hunger. This past year, with approval ratings at an all-time low and food insecurity on the city’s South and West sides at an all-time high, Chicago Mayor Brandon Johnson failed to act on a plan to become the first major American city to open a municipally-owned grocery store.

It is a disappointment to say the least, especially when Americans are hungrier than ever to talk about food insecurity, a term used to characterize one’s inability to access essential foods. Look no further than the recent mayoral election in New York City, where Zohran Mamdani sweepingly won the vote while campaigning on — among many other topics — opening city-run grocery stores. It was a platform that brought new energy to the polls, as 57% of Americans favored Mamdani’s plan. 

And why not? In a country as seemingly appetized as the United States, hunger is one of the greatest human issues. 100% of counties across the country face some sort of food insecurity. This ongoing hunger can stunt a child’s educational development, put them at higher risk for mental health issues growing up, and can even link them to future chronic diseases like diabetes. The first major American city to implement municipally-owned grocery stores should be, above any political opinion, a sign of hope. 

Just over 700 miles west of New York, though, a sour taste is being left in the mouths of Chicagoans. Earlier this year, Johnson’s office shifted plans away from the grocery stores after failing to apply for a grant from the State of Illinois.

The solution, now, would be geared toward opening public markets. As opposed to stores, these markets would both provide essential nutritious foods, while also providing local farmers and food retailers with spaces to operate within. According to Deputy Mayor Kenya Merritt, the model would be “more impactful than just a public grocery store.” It’s a statement that some can struggle to rationalize, especially considering the initial grocery store announcement was characterized around “repairing past harms.” If something is broken, why should fixing it be so heavily reassessed?

The idea of what is “more impactful” is nuanced in a city where 20% of households face food insecurity, a rate that consistently exceeds the national average. Specifically, at the time of Johnson’s 2023 announcement, the U.S. Department of Agriculture estimated that residents in Chicago’s West Englewood and East Garfield Park neighborhoods respectively totaled 63.5% and 52% of residents living more than a half mile away from the nearest grocery store, qualifying them as “food deserts.”

That term isn’t unique in the United States, or Chicago. Grocery chains like A&P helped conceive food deserts in the late 20th century through what economists call the “waterbed effect.” This model allowed A&P to make preferential deals with suppliers to sell at the lowest price, hiking prices for local grocers in conjunction. Although A&P folded in 2015, they ushered in a new era of mass discounting, offered today by companies like Walmart. The result was more community-based grocers closing their doors, and the distance between communities and proper nutrition increased. After all, not every town was fortunate to have an A&P next door. Thus, from Memphis to Detroit to New Orleans, the term “food desert” became an unfortunate benchmark of a city’s lack of necessary resources.

Chicago’s chapter in the long history of American food deserts, however, is marked by disinvestment. Take, for example, the controversial exit of a Whole Foods Market in Chicago’s Englewood neighborhood. What was once a progressive momentum toward increasing food access promptly folded five years young, with little rationale other than the need for the company to position itself for “long-term success.” In tow, the aforementioned Walmart closed its location in Chatham during 2023, citing issues of profitability despite the company’s CEO previously pledging commitment to the city’s underserved neighborhoods. While it is no secret that the profit margins for grocery stores tend to be of the slimmest margin, there is a clear discord between corporations and their ability to operate in Chicago communities that need it most. 

This is not to say grocery conglomerates are totally unreliable in the battle against food insecurity. In 2019, the Woodlawn neighborhood welcomed a new Jewel-Osco location, ending a 40-year full-service grocer drought in the community. Greater part of the funding for this effort, though, was through the Chicago Development Fund, a nonprofit specializing in new markets tax credit allocation.

Herein lies the role of policy for the city’s food insecurity battle: Chicagoans cannot fight it alone, especially in an era where government programs like the Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program (SNAP) are constantly fighting for legitimacy. Where large grocers have failed, elected officials should be able to pick up for the disinvestments and poor policy decisions while also funding innovative ways to increase access to healthy food. It’s what connects the dots from New York City to Chicago — two cities where food insecurity and prices are constantly on the rise. Campaigning on this issue, as Mamdani did, truly defines “food for thought” when it comes to leadership.

Credit where it’s due, the Johnson administration does appear to keep their hand on the pulse of Chicago’s food insecurity issues. Recently, Johnson signed an executive order directing resources to local community organizations helping address hunger in light of the recent government shutdown. But what about those grocery stores-turned-markets? The future remains vague. While the locations of these markets will be concentrated on the South and West sides, definitive addresses are yet to be determined, as are the timelines for operation. 

Just 122 miles northwest of Chicago, the city of Madison, Wisconsin is on the cusp of opening its first city-owned grocery store, the result of an agreement between city officials and Maurer’s Market. Dane County, where Madison is located, reported 9% of its population facing food insecurity in the same year that Maurer’s agreed to be part of the plan. While it pales in comparison to West Englewood’s rates — let alone the entire City of Chicago — it’s a cause for hope in a time where groceries are causing the most stress in U.S. adults today. 

The “City of the Big Shoulders” is also one of the hungriest. The time for policy solutions is now.

Last Updated on December 5, 2025 by Chicago Policy Review Staff

The North American trade relationship faces a major test. In early 2025, President Trump announced tariffs on imports from Mexico and Canada, citing irregular immigration, drug trafficking, and trade imbalances. Mexico faces a 25% tariff on all goods, while Canadian oil and energy exports endure a 10% tariff. These actions have provoked intense reactions from both countries, signaling a new era of trilateral tensions. 

Sheinbaum’s Strategy: Staying Cool Under Pressure

Claudia Sheinbaum, Mexico’s president and the first woman to hold the office, has approached this crisis with strategic patience. Instead of retaliating with her own tariffs, she has focused on negotiations. Her “cool-headed” approach aims to prevent an all-out trade war while protecting Mexico’s key industries, such as auto manufacturing, which now represents 20.2% of the nation’s GDP, second only to the food industry at 20.7%, and generates a net revenue of $100 billion.

Trump’s tariff threats are not new. In his first term, he pressured Mexico to accept the “Remain in Mexico” program, resulting in about 60,000 immigrants waiting in Mexico for asylum decisions.

This time, by threatening to designate Mexican cartels as terrorist organizations, Trump has again secured cooperation from Mexico—this time in the form of high-profile extraditions of cartel leaders. In February, Sheinbaum’s government transferred 29 cartel figures, including Rafael Caro Quintero, to the United States, signaling Mexico’s willingness to appease Washington’s demands on security.

The question now becomes: How much further is Sheinbaum willing to go? With nearly four more years of Trump’s presidency ahead, will Mexico continue making concessions, or will Sheinbaum eventually draw a line?

Trudeau’s Counterattack: No Patience for Tariff Games Amid Political Uncertainty

Canada, on the other hand, has taken a much firmer stance. Prime Minister Justin Trudeau swiftly responded with 25% tariffs on $20.6 billion worth of U.S. goods. His government made it clear: Canada will not be bullied.

In direct response to new U.S. tariffs on Canadian steel and aluminum, the Canadian government called these actions “unjustified and unacceptable.” Former Deputy Prime Minister and Finance Minister Chrystia Freeland emphasized that these measures violate trade commitments under the USMCA and harm workers on both sides of the border. Ottawa has countered with targeted tariffs on U.S. steel, aluminum, and consumer goods, aiming to maximize pressure on American industries while protecting Canadian businesses as much as possible. 

Canada is also pursuing a dual-track strategy—retaliation alongside diplomatic pressure. Trudeau’s administration is rallying support among U.S. lawmakers, particularly in states dependent on Canadian trade, to challenge the tariffs from within the American political system. This approach signals that while Canada is willing to fight back economically, it also sees value in using diplomacy to bring about a resolution.

However, Canada faces internal political uncertainty with the departure of Trudeau. His upcoming departure raises questions about the future direction of Canada’s trade policy and its ability to maintain a strong stance against U.S. pressure. Conservative politicians, including those aligned with Marco Rubio’s recent diplomatic outreach, may shift Canada’s strategy depending on the leadership transition. The absence of a stable leadership plan could weaken Canada’s position in ongoing trade negotiations and embolden Washington to push for further concessions.

What’s at Stake?

The escalating tensions present significant risks to North America’s economy. Supply chains that have operated seamlessly for years are now under threat. Businesses across all three countries—primarily in manufacturing and agriculture—are facing rising costs and economic unpredictability. The uncertainty surrounding the future of the USMCA could result in North American economies losing up to $300 billion in trade over the next five years. The auto industry, a vital sector for all three countries, could see a 12% decline in cross-border production due to disrupted supply chains and increased compliance costs. The USMCA faces unprecedented challenges as some aspects remain contentious and will likely be renegotiated during the pact’s review 2026. 

The differences in approach between Mexico and Canada also highlight the challenge of dealing with an unpredictable U.S. administration. Mexico is trying to keep the doors open for negotiation, while Canada is taking a hard line. Which strategy will be more effective? The coming months will tell. 

The Road Ahead

For North America, this is a moment of transition. The leaders of Mexico and Canada must decide whether to continue fighting back or seek a path to negotiation. Meanwhile, American businesses and consumers will feel these tariffs’ effects, potentially putting pressure on the U.S. government to reconsider its policies stance. 

At its core, this is not merely a trade dispute—it’s a test of North America’s ability to cooperate in an increasingly unpredictable global economy. Whether through diplomacy or economic retaliation, the decisions made now will influence the region’s future for years to come.

Last Updated on December 1, 2025 by Chicago Policy Review Staff

For one weekend every spring, cameras, analysts, and small investors from around the world flew to Omaha. Business channels in Europe and Asia set up temporary bureaus in a Midwestern city many of their viewers could not locate on a map, simply because one man would sit on a stage and explain what had happened in markets, in policy and in his own balance sheet over the past year.

On November 10, in what he presented as his final shareholder letter as CEO, Warren Buffett confirmed the arrangement he first announced in May: he will step down as CEO at year’s end, hand the job to Greg Abel and “go quiet.” He will no longer write Berkshire’s annual report or talk endlessly at the shareholder meeting, though he plans to keep sending a shorter Thanksgiving note. The news has been framed, understandably, as the closing chapter of a singular career. What retires is something larger: an informal public institution that, for six decades, has explained American capitalism to audiences from Omaha to Shanghai. That raises the question: If the narrator steps back, how do we institutionalize the work his letters informally performed?

Buffett’s letters and meetings were never just corporate communications. Since 1965, his annual reports have become required reading far beyond Berkshire’s shareholder list. They mixed performance tables with basic investment education, reflections on tax policy, and plainspoken commentary on market fads. The yearly shareholder gathering turned into “Woodstock for capitalists,” drawing tens of thousands of attendees and wall-to-wall media coverage. For a few days, the global financial system narrowed to an arena in Nebraska where an elderly man with a microphone translated volatility and valuation into ordinary language. His final letter reads more like a look back than a forecast, but the structural signal is clear: An era in which a single voice anchored both education and emotion grounding for markets is ending.

Buffett’s voice has played at least three roles at once. For retail investors, the letters were an accessible textbook on patience, compounding and risk, offered without a product pitch. For executives and policymakers, they served as a barometer of how a major capital allocator thought about taxes, regulation and corporate responsibility. And for the broader public, they offered an unusual narrative of capitalism — one where leverage could be criticized, speculation mocked and luck openly acknowledged — free from both government spin and corporate marketing.

That triple role now collides with a very different information environment. When Buffett wrote his first letters, investors received quarterly statements in the mail and maybe subscribed to a financial newspaper. Today, many first encounter “the market” through a trading app, a TikTok clip, or a viral Reddit thread. Platforms push real-time charts, options prompts and influencer clips into the same feed as entertainment. The result is speed — the time between impulse, information, and action keeps shrinking. Decades of behavioral finance evidence show that salience, social proof, and short-term feedback loops nudge people toward excessive trading and chasing past returns.

Buffett’s decision to “go quiet” reveals what was true all along: The explanatory work was never institutionalized. For years, policymakers and commentators have implicitly outsourced part of the job of investor education — and even of public persuasion about capitalism’s legitimacy — to a single unusually credible narrator. No other non-elected, non-regulated individual should inherit that mantle, and Abel, whose job is running Berkshire, should not be expected to.

So the question is not how to find “the next Oracle of Omaha,” but how to build institutions that take over what Buffett’s letters informally did. That work spans disclosure, education, and platform design.

First, make a plain-language explanation a requirement. Buffett’s farewell letter itself shows the value of clarity: He spends pages describing, in simple terms, why he will continue holding certain shares and how his estate will be handled. Securities regulators could begin by piloting standardized, layered summaries of key risks and fee structures for the most widely held retail products — tested on actual users for understanding, not just posted to satisfy formal obligations.

Second, treat investor education as a public good, not a marketing spillover. It cannot remain a side effect of marketing. Many people still first hear about diversification, volatility, and liquidity from brokerage ads or influencers. Several Organization for Economic Co-operation and Development (OECD) countries that take financial capability seriously have adopted national strategies for financial education. Public agencies — from the SEC to state education departments — can fund sustained, non-promotional curricula on basic financial decision-making, from high school through community colleges and workforce programs. Such curricula need not tell people what to buy; they should help people tell long-term investing from zero-sum speculation. Credible creators on TikTok and YouTube can help, and regulators should support them — but influencer content cannot replace public investment in financial capability.

Third, give platforms and intermediaries responsibility for the information environment they create. When an app nudges people toward options, leveraged ETFs, or “top movers,” that nudge is a design choice — one regulators now examine under the banner of digital engagement practices. In the offline world, brokers must recommend suitable products and avoid “churning” (i.e., pushing harmful levels of trading). The same logic should apply online. Simple frictions — a short pause, a one-question check, or a chart showing likely long-term outcomes — can slow people down before they hit “buy” on high-risk bets.

Mandatory disclosures and education will not replicate Buffett’s moral authority. That required a track record, voluntary readership, and billions of dollars of “skin in the game.” What they can do is ensure that the basic information environment does not systematically disadvantage those without access to patient capital or sophisticated networks. The goal is to stop platforms and intermediaries from structurally biasing users toward noise.

None of these measures will reproduce what Buffett’s letters uniquely offered: the combination of storytelling, self-deprecation, and moral weight that made people willing to listen. They will, however, start to bring some of the explanatory work he did into the realm of democratically accountable institutions. When education and explanation depend on the continued good health and goodwill of one individual, they are both powerful and fragile.

Omaha will remain on the map. Berkshire Hathaway will continue under new leadership, and Abel will write his own, more conventional reports. The airplanes may still land for a while each spring, though perhaps with fewer foreign TV crews on board. What disappears with Buffett’s “going quiet” is the illusion that capitalism can be made intelligible and tolerable by a single trusted narrator speaking once a year from the American Midwest.

When capitalism needed someone to make sense to ordinary people, it found Warren Buffett. For sixty years, regulators allowed this arrangement — one man’s annual letter performing work that should have been institutionalized. That era ends now. The SEC can begin treating comprehension as core to investor protection, or it can keep protecting investors’ right to click past warnings they will never read. The choice is no longer theoretical.

Last Updated on November 24, 2025 by Chicago Policy Review Staff

TO: Senate Finance Committee Chairman Sen. Mark Crapo (R-Idaho) and Ranking Member Sen. Ron Wyden (D-Oregon)
FROM: Sabrina Beaver, Nilesh Kavthekar, Barbara Leppala, and Matthew Ryan, Ph.D., The University of Chicago Harris School of Public Policy
SUBJECT: Addressing Bipartisan Economic Concerns through Alternatives to S.129 “No Tax On Tips”

Executive Summary
S.129 “No Tax On Tips” eliminates the income tax on tipped income and has been proposed by both parties as a way to increase take-home earnings for lower-income workers. Upon closer inspection, we find that this proposal will provide little economic benefit to tipped workers. Instead, it costs a lot, complicates the tax code, and may create perverse incentives for businesses and consumers that erode its effectiveness. This issue is of particular interest to the Senate Finance Committee. By blocking this legislation at the Committee level, you can draw focus to more cost-effective solutions that can uplift everyday Americans, such as decreasing marginal tax rates for lower-income earners.

Background and Methodology
Before analyzing the merits of the “No Tax on Tips” bill, we want to provide context for who tipped workers are in the United States. The Budget Lab at Yale has conducted nonpartisan, in-depth analyses using multiple surveys. Approximately 4 million Americans receive tips, comprising less than 3% of all workers (Yale Budget Lab 2024b). Tipped workers tend to make only half as much as non-tipped workers—less than $30,000 annually. For tipped workers, only about a fifth of their total income comes from tips (Yale Budget Lab 2024a; Square 2024). Traditionally “red” and “blue” states show similar levels of tipped wages. They also tend to be unmarried and about 10 years younger (Yale Budget Lab 2024a). The top occupations are generally ones we might expect—waiters, bartenders, and, increasingly, couriers (e.g., food and grocery delivery gig workers)—with over 50% of tips going to the restaurant sector.

Both major presidential candidates campaigned on abolishing taxes on tipped wages in the 2024 election cycle. President Donald Trump appealed to the libertarian ideal of self-ownership in his proposal, arguing that workers should be entitled to retain more of the hard-earned rewards of their labor. In contrast, Vice President Kamala Harris invoked more egalitarian norms by using the policy as a push for income equality. Both discussed the proposal as a way to raise wages for the lowest-income workers in America.

Senator Cruz introduced S. 129 the No Tax on Tips Act in the 119th Congress on Jan 16, 2025, and Rep. Buchanan introduced identical language in the House as H.R. 482 the same day. This bill creates a tax deduction for “qualified tips” capped at $25,000 per year and calls on the Treasury to publish a list of occupations “which traditionally and customarily received tips” within 90 days of enactment. Here, we will examine the impacts of S.129 on the lowest-income workers in America, focusing on the economic impacts, feasibility, and cost-effectiveness.

Key Findings
While S. 129 makes good on President Trump’s campaign promise, there are serious concerns about its cost-effectiveness for increasing the wages of poor working Americans while other more effective alternatives exist.

Fiscal Impact
Removing income tax on tipped wages will cost approximately $100 billion over the next decade yet provides relief to only a small sliver of low-income workers.

• The primary cost of this proposal is lost tax revenue (Yale Budget Lab 2024a).
• Only about 5% of workers in the bottom 25% of the income distribution (i.e., < $17.66/hour or <$36,700/year) are paid with tips, meaning that the overwhelming majority of the lowest-income workers will not be helped by this proposal (Yale Budget Lab 2024b).
• 37% of workers who are paid tipped wages are already exempt from federal income tax: the
  lowest-income workers will receive no benefit from this proposal (Yale Budget Lab 2024a).
• This proposal arbitrarily privileges tipped low-income workers over others, despite facing similar financial difficulties.
• Individuals in the lowest 20% of income benefit the least from this proposal, even less than the top 20% (who make over $211,000 per year). This pattern is consistent even if tax cuts under the Tax Cuts and Jobs Act (TCJA) are not renewed (Figure 1).