When I was a kid, we had a funny little New Year’s Eve tradition. My mom would lead us toward the back door of the house, all of us together “escorting” out the old year. He was ancient, bearded, stooped, and shuffling (and invisible). My mom would open up the back door to a blast of cold air, and we’d all thank the old fella, pat him on his imaginary back, and wave goodbye for a moment as he made his way into the icy night, on his journey to wherever it is the years go. Then we’d all run as fast as we could to the front of the house, where my mom would throw open the front door, and we’d cheer in the (invisible) baby new year, laughing and cooing as the cute little tyke crawled along the floor into the house. Our dogs were genuinely flummoxed, and barked furiously at both the departing Old Year, and the arriving New Year. Then we’d have some egg nog.
We’re supposed to be hopeful with the arrival of a New Year. Some years, that’s hard. After all, it’s a just calendrical event, originally established by Julius Caesar, then firmed up centuries later by Pope Gregory XIII and a team of crack mathematicians and astronomers. It’s handy, but it doesn't offer—much less guarantee—any kind of promise of good fortune for any of us.
Still, that little invisible baby crawling across the floor of the home I grew up in seemed to bring hope into our house. A new year! So pristine, so full of promise. So unsullied by the brutalities of the world and our own shortcomings. It feels like the mere turning of the year frees us from at least the chronological fact of twelve months that inevitably contain plenty of ugliness and struggle, and it cannot be denied that nothing bad has happened yet in 2026! Maybe my mom’s charming tradition (and her native optimism) helped to make me a glass-half-full kind of man.
Or maybe I’m nuts, and we need to leaven the pie-eyed idealism with some squint-eyed skepticism and a bit of brute realism, for good measure. Yes. That old fella shuffling toward the door teaches us that year after year, decade after decade, for certain.
So let’s peer a year into the future, and see what 2026 might bring us—the good, the bad, and the ugly.
Trumpism splinters. The second most important political battle of 2026 (after the midterm elections) will be over Donald Trump’s legacy. He’s changed the GOP, and it’s not changing back. But what does Trumpism after Trump look like? J.D. Vance’s big-tent MAGA? Marjorie Taylor Greene’s working-class America First-ism? Tucker Carlson’s racist nativism? Marco Rubio—nah, forget Rubio. But the battle for power in the Republican Party post-Trump is already on. And it’s going to get messy.
The revenge of the suburbs. The midterm elections will be decided by the voters who are tired of being told they don’t matter. Suburban districts—diverse, educated, uneasy—will swing the House to the Democrats. But it’s not about ideology for these voters. They are looking for stability. Candidates who promise competence and restraint will outperform those running on grievance and spectacle. These voters aren’t looking for revolution. They’re looking for adulthood.
Trump will attack our elections—again. If it looks as if a Blue Wave is coming, Donald Trump will do whatever he can to stop or steal the midterm elections. Rejecting results? Using the DOJ to disqualify mass numbers of voters? Troops in the streets? Anything is possible. Not to be too dark here—but brace yourselves.
Blue-state federalism. You can already see it happening, and it’s going to accelerate. Blue states will use their sovereign powers more and more aggressively—to defend individual rights, regulate markets, and protect democratic norms.
Liberal patriotism. No more qualifications. No more apologies. Liberals will increasingly take up the banner of real patriotism, not with costumes and blowhard belligerence, but with deeds. The country we love needs us.
Regime change in Venezuela backfires. Trump thinks it’ll be a cakewalk, an easy win. Bye-bye Maduro, hello oil reserves. But nothing unites the people of Latin America more than Yankee imperialism. Whatever happens won’t feel like victory, but shame, and will further isolate the US and empower China in the western hemisphere.
Farewell to Europe. With American leadership uncertain and untrustworthy, European allies will be planing for a future that de-emphasizes the US relationship and de-couples from it wherever possible. They can’t count on us—and increasingly, we won’t be able to count on them. The result will be a poorer and less powerful America. Thanks, MAGA.
The bubble bursts. You can’t have a healthy economy so dependent on a handful of tech economies. The immense size, market performance, and massive investments in AI by the “Magnificent Seven” corporations (Apple, Microsoft, Amazon, Alphabet (Google), Meta, Nvidia, and Tesla) disproportionately drive current economic growth and the stock market. If the AI bot even slows—pop! And it’s not going to be pretty.
Salman Rushdie wins the Nobel Prize in Literature. And it’s about time.
Niceness makes a comeback. As I said on CNN:
We can always hope…
Happy New Year!
—Terry