This is an edition of The Atlantic Daily, a newsletter that guides you through the biggest stories of the day, helps you discover new ideas, and recommends the best in culture. Sign up for it here.

There’s Donald Trump, and there’s everyone else. At the moment, the former president of the United States appears unbeatable in the 2024 Republican primary race. But perhaps inevitable is a trickier word than it seems.

First, here are three new stories from The Atlantic:

Ukraine after the deluge The misunderstood reason millions of Americans stopped going to church One more COVID summer?

It’s Iowa Time

What happens when you say the unsayable? Former Congressman (and current GOP presidential contender) Will Hurd found out the hard way Friday night. “Donald Trump is not running for president to make America great again,” Hurd told the Republican masses inside the Iowa Events Center. “Donald Trump is running to stay out of prison.”

The boos rained down, and, rest assured, they were mighty.

Hurd was one of 13 candidates who had trekked to Des Moines for the Iowa GOP’s cattle-call event known as the Lincoln Dinner. Prospective voters and donors gathered roughly six months ahead of Iowa’s first-in-the-nation caucus to remind themselves of their importance, which may or may not be waning. The night was ostensibly a chance for Iowans to listen to a range of electability pitches. Former Vice President Mike Pence told the room he would reinstate a ban on transgender personnel in the U.S. military and endorsed the idea of a national abortion restriction after 15 weeks. The businessman Vivek Ramaswamy rattled off a list of government agencies he would shut down: the FBI, CDC, DOE, ATF, and IRS. Florida Governor Ron DeSantis boasted that he had refused to let his state “descend into a Faucian dystopia” during the pandemic and called for term limits in Congress. (One dinner attendee, the 89-year-old Iowa Senator Chuck Grassley—currently serving his eighth term—probably didn’t like that one.)

The whole spectacle—including the after-parties where you could snap selfies with candidates or, at the DeSantis event, knock down a pyramid of Bud Light cans—felt like a study in performative competition.

Each speaker was given a democratizing 10-minute time limit to deliver his or her remarks (poor Asa Hutchinson suffered the embarrassment of having his mic cut off), but all were merely warm-up acts for the headliner. When Trump finally took the stage, he seemed tired, bored, and annoyed with this obligation. A lack of teleprompters meant that Trump spent the bulk of his 10 minutes looking down at printed notes, only occasionally making eye contact with the audience or ad-libbing. He got a few chuckles out of his old pandemic go-to, the “China virus.” He notably referred to his White House predecessor as “Barack Hussein Obama.” The only newish development was that Ron “DeSanctimonious” had been shortened to the easier-to-say but far more confusing “DeSanctis.”

Trump is not running as an incumbent, but it sure seems that way. A New York Times/Siena College poll out today shows Trump with a 37-point lead over DeSantis, who was the only other candidate able to crack double digits among respondents. Did January 6 matter? Do the indictments matter? Does anything remotely negative about Trump matter? Not yet. Trump remains the Katie Ledecky of the 2024 contest—so far ahead of the pack that it feels wrong to even call it a race. Trump knows it too. He may not even bother to show up at the first Republican debate next month, in Milwaukee.

These factors would suggest that the Republican Party is delaying the inevitable, that the GOP base earnestly wants to “Make America great again” … again. And yet, the various campaign buses keep on rolling across Iowa and New Hampshire. The noble attempts at retail politics and down-home charm continue apace. Pence strategically name-dropped the Iowa chain Pizza Ranch. Senator Tim Scott of South Carolina tweeted a video of himself fist-pumping after sinking a bag in cornhole. (“If God made you a man, you play sports against men,” Scott said onstage Friday night.) Expect much more of this at the Iowa State Fair, which kicks off in just over a week.

I was in the press pen at the Lincoln Dinner on Friday night, and I spent the weekend in Iowa speaking with various Republicans about all things 2024. I came away with the sense that a not-insignificant portion of conservatives is willing to accept Trump’s dominance, but that many are still quietly hoping for a deus ex machina to avoid a 2020 rematch. The still-rolling indictments don’t seem to have much effect—too many Republican voters argue that the legal cases against Trump are politically motivated. He shows no signs of giving up his nickname, “Teflon Don.”

The fact that Trump is running from a stance of inevitability is paradoxically both emboldening and hindering. Trump doesn’t seem to want to actually be president (as Hurd suggested). Maybe he just wants to prove he can win again. Will that motivational gap matter to voters? Will anything matter?

Related:

The revenge of the normal Republicans The secret presidential-campaign dress code

Today’s News

A state judge in Georgia rejected Trump’s bid to derail the investigation into his attempts to overturn election results in the state. A Russian missile strike on Kryvyi Rih, President Volodymyr Zelensky’s hometown, killed at least six people, including a 10-year-old girl and her mother, and wounded dozens more. The Islamic State claimed responsibility for Sunday’s suicide bombing of a political rally in Pakistan that killed at least 54 people.

Dispatches

The Wonder Reader: In 1980, the film critic Roger Ebert argued that movies were better in theaters. The recent success of Barbenheimer is evidence—and points to the ongoing magic of communal experiences, Isabel Fattal writes.

Explore all of our newsletters here.

Evening Read

Getty / The Atlantic

The Myopia Generation

By Sarah Zhang

A decade into her optometry career, Marina Su began noticing something unusual about the kids in her New York City practice. More of them were requiring glasses, and at younger and younger ages. Many of these kids had parents who had perfect vision and who were baffled by the decline in their children’s eyesight. Frankly, Su couldn’t explain it either.

In optometry school, she had been taught—as American textbooks had been teaching for decades—that nearsightedness, or myopia, is a genetic condition. Having one parent with myopia doubles the odds that a kid will need glasses. Having two parents with myopia quintuples them. Over the years, she did indeed diagnose lots of nearsighted kids with nearsighted parents. These parents, she told me, would sigh in recognition: Oh no, not them too. But something was changing.

Read the full article.

More From The Atlantic

What “fitboxing” is missing “Ukrainian is my native language, but I had to learn it.” The weird, fragmented world of social media after Twitter America is drowning in packages.

Culture Break

Joanne Imperio / The Atlantic

Read. “I Wish I Could Remember,” a new poem by Michael White.

“It’s just a dream, / I’d tell myself. But dreams are how / we travel through the dark”

Watch. Biopics tend to be “functional to a fault,” better at showcasing an actor than creating challenging art—but these 20 movies manage to break the mold, David Sims writes.

Play our daily crossword.

P.S.

Last week, the podcast host Jack Wagner went viral on Twitter (er, X) with a prompt: “serious question: if the grateful dead is not the greatest band of all time from the united states then who is?” Thousands of responses poured in: The Beach Boys, The Allman Brothers Band, and The Velvet Underground kept surfacing among the many retorts (as did Bruce Springsteen and Tom Petty; I don’t think you can really count either, because even though they play with backing bands, they’re solo artists.) I’m a Deadhead, but the strongest contender I saw was Creedence Clearwater Revival. CCR’s Willy and the Poor Boys remains one of the greatest rock records ever. You likely know “Fortunate Son” and “Down on the Corner,” but the album also features an awesome cover of “The Midnight Special”—I love the moment when the whole band kicks in just after the one-minute mark.

— John

Nicole Blackwood contributed to this newsletter.

When you buy a book using a link in this newsletter, we receive a commission. Thank you for supporting The Atlantic.

The law would allow Republika Srpska, part of Bosnia and Herzegovina, to ignore the country's Constitutional Court.

Blue blood from the crabs is used in medicine, but their eggs are a critical food source for threatened bird subspecies.

State Department says US will provide resources to the force after Kenya expresses willingness to lead Haiti mission.

US actor whose film, Pee-wee's Big Adventure, was cult classic died after battle with cancer, his publicist says.

Arizona's capital is grappling with sky-high temperatures, as neighbouring California contends with wildfires.

Former US president has 54 percent support among likely Republican primary voters, New York Times/Siena poll finds.

Beijing says it wants to safeguard 'national security and interests' amid escalating tension with Washington.

United States junior rider Magnus White, 17, dies after being hit by a car in a training accident in Colorado.

This is an edition of The Atlantic Daily, a newsletter that guides you through the biggest stories of the day, helps you discover new ideas, and recommends the best in culture. Sign up for it here.

Welcome back to The Daily’s Sunday culture edition, in which one Atlantic writer reveals what’s keeping them entertained.

Today’s special guest is Atlantic staff writer Yair Rosenberg. Yair writes about the intersection of politics, culture, and religion, and is the author of our Deep Shtetl newsletter. He’s recently shed light on the collapse of social trust in Israel, offered a road map for building better social-media platforms, testified in Congress about anti-Semitism, and chatted with the actor Ben Platt about the role Judaism plays in the performer’s work on Broadway. Yair is currently making his way through a unique anthology of science-fiction short stories, rooting for the Yankees despite the great pain it causes, and reminiscing about a magical piece of tech that no longer exists.

First, here are three Sunday reads from The Atlantic:

“I saw the movie ‘they’ don’t want you to see.” Barbie is everything. Ken is everything else. The song that first captured Sinéad O’Connor’s power

The Culture Survey: Yair Rosenberg

A cultural product that I loved as a teenager: In high school, one of my prized possessions was a portable DVD player. This was exactly what it sounds like: a flip-top device with a screen that could play movies off discs. Having one meant that I could watch The Lord of the Rings on cross-country school trips, or disappear into my room to binge a TV show from Netflix (back when they used to send you DVDs). It took a lot to persuade my parents to help me get the thing, and I used to take it everywhere. Today, the portable player is a museum item, long replaced by massively more capable smartphones that play higher-quality video. But no amount of processing power or pixel resolution can replace the magic of being the one weird kid on the bus who could watch a movie on demand.

Something I recently rewatched, reread, or otherwise revisited: One of my favorite TV shows is an eccentric ’90s sci-fi saga called Babylon 5. What makes the show unique is that its creator, J. Michael Straczynski, planned out its entire five-year storyline in advance. He basically wrote an entire novel and then dramatized it for the screen. As I’ve written for The Atlantic, most serialized TV shows today disappoint me. Their plots tend to fail to pay off, because writers are making things up as they go. Lost is a classic example of this, but there are many others. Babylon 5 is the opposite, constantly foreshadowing events—sometimes entire seasons in advance—and leading its characters along believable journeys of growth, discovery, and tragedy. I’ve been revisiting the show because it’s delightful, but also because Straczynski is set to release a new installment of the story next month, in the form of an original animated movie.

My favorite blockbuster and favorite art movie: I’m one of those people who not only watched the extended edition of each Lord of the Rings film—on the aforementioned portable DVD player—but also watched them multiple times with all of the cast and crew commentaries. This is how I know important things, such as how production was momentarily disrupted when the set designers attempted to create a path of floating apples for the characters to follow in the flooded fortress of Isengard, only for the apples to refuse to float. Eventually, they realized they’d been fooled by perfectly designed prop fruits made of wax.

I’m a big hit at parties.

As for art films, this may be a cheat, but I’ll go with Footnote. It’s a foreign-language movie, so by definition not a blockbuster, but it did win Best Picture at Israel’s equivalent of the Oscars, and it got an actual Oscar nod for Best Foreign Language Film in 2012. As I put it elsewhere, “It’s safe to say that director Joseph Cedar’s Footnote is the only Oscar-nominated dramatic comedy about Talmud scholars you will ever watch. It’s also an exceptional film about fathers and sons, generational conflict, and the passions inspired by Jewish texts through the ages.” It doesn’t hurt that the movie is based on a real-life scholarly dynasty whose members include my own relatives. [Related: How to learn about Jews from Jews, rather than the people who hate them]

An actor I would watch in anything: Peter Sarsgaard. He has incredible charisma and range, whether he’s playing a dogged magazine editor who uncovers fabulism by one of his star reporters in Shattered Glass—the best movie ever made about modern journalism—or embodying a predatory but magnetic con artist in An Education, ensnaring an impressionable college student (played by the great Carey Mulligan) and her family.

Best work of fiction I’ve recently read: I’ve been working my way through a new anthology of science-fiction short stories called Jewish Futures. It comes out next month, but I backed the project on Kickstarter, so I got an advance copy. I can’t wait for other people to be able to read it—and not just because my sister contributed to it. As in all anthologies, different stories will speak to different readers, but my favorites so far are the hilarious “Frummer House,” by Leah Cypess, about what happens when a smart home starts imposing religious observance on its inhabitants; “The Ascent,” a haunting tale by Abraham Josephine Riesman and S. I. Rosenbaum about the eternal restoration and destruction of Jerusalem; and, of course, “Moon Melody,” by my sister S. M. Rosenberg, which is a cross between midrash and a superhero-origin story.

The last culture or entertainment event that made me cry: The New York Yankees offense, or rather, lack thereof.

A good culture or entertainment recommendation I recently received: To stop watching the Yankees. I did not listen.

A musical artist who means a lot to me: I love Irish folk music—its sing-along quality, its intergenerational appeal, the way it reflects and perpetuates cultural memory. I will listen to anything recorded by the contemporary quartet The High Kings. All four members of the group are multi-instrumentalists and have incredible, distinctive voices that somehow seamlessly blend into four-part harmony. They’ve been making music since 2008, and their specialty is bringing classic Irish jigs and ballads to new audiences through contemporary arrangements that are nevertheless faithful to the original essence. When I’m not writing, I have a side hobby composing, singing, and recording Jewish music, and my first album was heavily influenced by this approach, taking traditional Sabbath songs and marrying them to modern melodies and instrumentation.

An author I will read anything by: Kazuo Ishiguro, both because his writing is effortlessly elegant and because it rewards deeper consideration of its moral themes. One example: I recently read The Buried Giant, and it gave me an entry into another book, Forgiveness, by Matthew Ichihashi Potts, the lead minister of Harvard University’s Memorial Church, who uses several works of literature—including Ishiguro’s—to challenge traditional notions of forgiveness and offer an alternative approach. [Related: What my favorite anti-Semite taught me about forgiveness]

The last debate I had about culture: Earlier this year, I debated the conservative commentator Ben Shapiro about anti-Semitism in politics and culture in front of nearly 1,000 people in Florida. We tackled everything from Ye to Joe Rogan, and did it while practically setting the world record for most words spoken per minute. (One reason I’m a journalist is that people can read me at their own speed, which is not possible when listening to me live.)

A poem, or line of poetry, that I return to: “Cast your bread upon the waters, for after many days you will find it” (Ecclesiastes 11:1). Sometimes it can feel futile to write about seemingly implacable social forces and injustices. But I have found that you never know where your words will be heard, and what impact they may ultimately have.

The Week Ahead

Tom Lake, a new novel by Ann Patchett, meditates on the romances parents have before their children are born (on sale Tuesday). The third and final season of Reservation Dogs, a comedy series by Sterlin Harjo and Taika Waititi, premieres Wednesday (streaming on Hulu). Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: Mutant Mayhem, featuring the voices of Jackie Chan and Seth Rogen (in theaters Wednesday)

Essay

Gueorgui Pinkhassov / Magnum

American Family Life Should Not Be This Volatile

By Elliot Haspel

Parenthood has always involved unpredictability: wake-ups at 2 a.m., calls from school, the dreaded words my stomach hurts. This daily variance frequently stems from a sick or scared child, and is part of the basic dynamic of family life. Yet today’s parents in the U.S. also face rising external disruptions and a degradation of the institutions that are meant to provide stability. The result is that many families are regularly knocked off their feet by problems that are more than inconvenient but less than catastrophic. This breeds parental stress, insecurity, and exhaustion. Americans have entered, in short, an age of tremors.

The nation has been on this course for the past half century. Starting in the 1970s, a series of economic- and social-policy decisions led to what the political scientist Jacob Hacker has termed the “great risk shift” from government and corporations onto households.

Read the full article.

More in Culture

An Oppenheimer expert watches Oppenheimer. Greta Gerwig’s lessons from Barbie Land What kind of villain doesn’t clean up after their dog? Seven books for the lifelong learner When Judaism went à la carte Hollywood’s huge Barbenheimer fumble Can nature lie? Poem: “Claude Glass as Night Song”

Catch Up on The Atlantic

Fatigue can shatter a person. Are you plagued by the feeling that everyone used to be nicer? Alabama is defying the Supreme Court on voting rights.

Photo Album

Matthias Appenzeller of Switzerland competes in the men’s high-diving preliminaries at the Fukuoka 2023 World Aquatics Championships. (Adam Pretty / Getty)

The Women’s World Cup in Australia, a performance at the Lollapalooza Paris Festival, and more in our editor’s selection of the week’s best photos

Katherine Hu contributed to this newsletter.

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