Don Morrison: We need protection from tech bros and their gigantic data centers

Cervalis' Norwalk facility, Connecticut's largest data center.

The Massachusetts Green High Performance Computing Center, in Holyoke. 

So, I’m driving down the interstate and need to make a pit stop. As I approach the exit, my steering wheel freezes up. I hit the brakes, to no effect. Panic rising, I tell the car’s voice assistant to pull over. It responds in a soft and friendly tone: “I’m sorry, Don, but I’m afraid I can’t do that. It’s not part of the mission.”

That’s when I wake up. Ever since I saw an HBO rerun of Stanley Kubrick’s 1968 film 2001: A Space Odyssey, featuring a polite but frighteningly stubborn computer named HAL, I’ve been having variations of this dream. I now realize it’s not about a car. It’s about how we’re losing control of artificial intelligence, even as it reshapes our lives.

To many of us, that development might seem too distant to worry about, and maybe even something to cheer. After all, Siri, Alexa, ChatGPT, Claude, Waymo and “smart” household appliances have already made life easier in so many ways. Yet I’m not alone in worrying about AI and its potentially disastrous effects — on our jobs and, ultimately, our democracy.

In a new study by the Massachusetts Institute of Technology and Australia’s University of Queensland, 272 experts examined two dozen potential types of AI-related disaster and found that 18 of them have at least a 10 percent chance of happening in the next five years. Among those potential catastrophes: a new cyber-weapon will cause at least 1 million deaths or $100 million in losses; also, AI-generated misinformation will wreak emotional harm on multitudes or affects the outcome of an election.

AI mishaps are already with us. News reports — and a few lawsuits — indicate that prolonged interactions with chat bots may have contributed to delusions, emotional crises and in some cases, suicides. Criminals are using “deepfake” photos and even voices to facilitate identity theft and extortion. The internet is filled with AI-generated “slop,” annoying but largely harmless, though some of it is aimed at changing our political views.

The problem isn’t so much that such fantasies are convincing. It’s that every year it gets easier to manufacture more plausible ones. Eventually, the public might not know what to believe. Even President Trump now posts AI-generated images, nearly all of them obvious confections and mildly amusing — like last week’s “photo” of him showing his controversial White House ballroom project to George Washington.

Not so amusing is news that the federal government and both houses of Congress now allow the use of AI in official business, often without much supervision. Rep. Anna Paulina Luna of Florida was embarrassed last week when her staff posted a summary of a proposed defense bill amendment that retained the words “Claude responded,” a sign they had used the AI chatbot.

More troubling still was last month’s disclosure that an autonomous OpenAI agent escaped its testing environment and hacked into Hugging Face, an AI-development platform. No serious harm was done, but the fact that intrusion occurred at all — and went undetected for days — have raised fears that we might be losing control of AI and that our personal data is in danger.

So, it appears, are our communities. Artificial intelligence systems require enormous computing power, which is supplied mostly by data centers: shopping-mall-sized complexes filled with computer servers. The centers consume vast amounts of land, water (for cooling) and electricity. They strain local power grids, drive up retail electricity prices, create noise and otherwise degrade the quality of life in thousands of localities.

Though polls show that as many as 70 percent of Americans oppose them, data centers are popping up all over the place. The U.S. now has around 4,000, with at least 2,000 more planned or under construction.

Of course, data centers provide jobs and property-tax revenues for localities, just as the growth of AI generally is expected to boost U.S. economic growth. Yet the toll on American society and democracy could be high. What’s truly worrying is that the decisions about what risks can be acceptable in pursuing AI’s future are being taken by a group of people who stand to profit from its unfettered growth.

The industry is dominated by a handful of tech-firm founders, nearly all of them men, who — along with their major investors — have become multibillionaires. These and other wealthy “tech bros” have put vast sums into political action committees (PACs). Elon Musk spent $243 million to help elect Donald Trump in 2024 and plans a $100 million effort for Republicans in this year’s midterm elections. Leading the Future, a network of super-PACS, has amassed $100 million to support candidates who share the AI industry’s opposition to regulation and taxation.

A major battle is shaping up. Many Americans are worried about the growing disparity of wealth in the U.S. between AI winners and victims. Many also worry about the possibility of losing their own jobs — and not just the manufacturing and clerical positions currently affected. AI can now generate movie scenes, prepare tax returns, develop new drugs, even write news stories and opinion columns. A college degree may no longer offer the protection it once did.

Amid such anxiety, people see the enormous wealth generated by AI and think they deserve a share. A few states have responded with higher taxes on data centers. A new Virginia levy on data-center power consumption is expected to raise $600 million in the coming year. Some members of Congress want to impose stronger safety rules and more rigorous anti-trust regulation on artificial intelligence giants. Let’s hope it’s not too late.

Despite the industry’s public-relations efforts, the current wave of anxiety over the rise of the AI is unlikely to subside anytime soon, nor should it. Only if people get worried enough to take action can we wrest control of this ground-shaking technological revolution from the self-serving handful who profit from it.

As someone who must endure HAL’s occasional efforts to take control of his dreams, I’ll be pulling for the triumph of real — not artificial — sanity.

Don Morrison is a veteran editor, reporter, columnist and media executive. A part-time resident of The Berkshires, he’s a member of the editorial advisory board of The Berkshire Eagle.

Good morning in Maine

Oil painting by Geoffrey Teale Chalmers, in his show at the Copley Society of Art, Boston, through Aug. 30.

What would Adams think now?

“The Father and Mother,’’ by Boardman Robinson (1867-1952), depicting war as the offspring of greed and pride.

"There is so much rascality, so much venality and corruption, so much avarice and ambition such a rage for profit and commerce among all ranks and degrees of men even in America, that I sometimes doubt whether there is public virtue enough to support a republic."

Founding Father John Adams (1735-1826), in a 1776 letter to Mercy Otis Warren

‘Primary colors and sinister motifs’

Work by Dan Baldwin, at Samuel Owen Gallery, Greenwich, Conn.

The gallery says:

“Dan Baldwin is a contemporary British artist born in 1972, recognized for his kaleidoscopic paintings and ceramic vases. He juxtaposes rich acrylic paints and primary colors with sinister motifs that evoke themes existing in the natural world such as life, death, and decay, creating simultaneously morbid yet playful works.

“Baldwin received a degree in Illustration from the Kent Institute in England, an art school that boasts notable alumni including Tracey Emin and Billy Childish. Since then, he has been thought of as a key figure in the Young British Artists Movement and has exhibited with the likes of Damien Hirst, Banksy, and Sir Peter Blake. His work has also been appreciated on a global scale, including critically-acclaimed sell-out solo shows in London, Los Angeles, and New York, as well as art fairs in Basel, Miami, and Tokyo. Additionally, his work has been published in leading magazines including Vogue, Elle, The New Order, Art of England, Aesthetica, Dazed and Confused, Modern Painters, and I.D.’’

The crisis that led to the creation of the Back Bay neighborhood

1858 view from the Massachusetts State House along the Mill Dam (now Beacon Street), which separated Back Bay (left) from the Charles River.

From The Boston Guardian, article by Mannie Lewis

(Robert Whitcomb, New England Diary’s editor, is chairman of The Boston Guardian.)

Walking past Newbury Street’s quaint shops or strolling Commonwealth Avenue’s boulevards, it may seem bizarre that Back Bay could be a recent creation. But until the mid-nineteenth century, the now opulent neighborhood was nothing more than a low tidal marsh.

The conception of Back Bay as a neighborhood first came to Boston as a geographic crisis. By the 1840’s, Irish immigrants made up a substantial portion of the downtown population, which was previously contained on the undersized Shawmut Peninsula, and the need for expansion became undeniable.

The problem was exacerbated by the flight of Brahmin elites. Unable to cope with the practical and cultural demands of immigration, many of Boston’s old families put pressure on the government to find a solution. Smaller areas around the peninsula had already been filled in, but city officials needed something grander, not only to accommodate the immigrants, but also to keep traditional elites downtown.

But ultimately, it took a more concrete crisis to fill Back Bay. In 1814, the Massachusetts Legislature had authorized the Boston and Roxbury Mill Corporation (BRMC) to build a dam across the Back Bay. On the promise of factories and jobs, the dam isolated the Bay from the Charles and further divided it into two basins, deriving energy from the ebb and flow of tides.

Though the dam was never popular, its propinquity to the city would be its undoing. At the time, local sewers were designed to dump their contents at the nearest shoreline, meaning that the isolated basins received a constant stream of garbage and excrement.

Over the following decades, the situation deteriorated to such an extent that an 1849 city committee described Back Bay as “nothing less than a great cesspool, into which is daily deposited all the filth of a large and constantly increasing population.”

To address the health crisis as well as the housing demand, the the city established the Commissioners on Boston Harbor and the Back Bay, tasked to fill in the basin and cover the exposed sewage. Soon after, a series of agreements allocated work and land rights between the city, Commonwealth and BRMC.

Money, however, proved to be an enduring obstacle. Because the state legislature barred the project from receiving taxpayer money in 1856, the state was forced to sell land as they progressed. Instead of working west to east, which would have saved time and energy, the state began its work east to west, putting the newest parcels of land on display for wealthy Beacon Hill residents.

As the work dragged on, innovative technology soon came on full display. Shovels, handcarts, and gravity railroads of earlier decades were quickly replaced by the steam evacuator, a massive mechanical shovel that contractors George Goss and Norman C. Munson utilized. When a train arrived on site, which happened around-the-clock until 1863, two steam evacuators would dig out a chunk of land and dump it in the car. According to reports, a 35-car train could be filled in 10 minutes, replacing the work of nearly 200 men.

It took several decades, but the neighborhood slowly emerged.

By 1876, the state had finished the majority of its role and replaced $1.6 million in expenditures with a $5 million profit, nearly $90 million today, largely due to their focus on building upper middle class residences and preserving the value of Commonwealth Avenue.

Miscellaneous work continued for decades, but the old marsh quickly became a downtown staple. Thousands of residents now call Back Bay home and millions more walk its streets yearly, perhaps the reason many take the old marsh, larger than the Shawmut Peninsula itself, for granted.

Mainely kitsch, or terror

— Photo by William Morgan, in Woolwich, Maine.

The real ones are moving to Canada.

Interwoven east and west

“Untitled” (acrylic and mixed media on canvas mounted board), by Jung Hur, at the Corey Daniels Gallery, Wells, Maine.

The artist says:

“Over the past few years, my paintings have begun with my own personal symbol, a pair of shapes based on an old-fashioned lock and key. This symbol is based in Yin-Yang philosophy, an ever-swirling way of thinking about complements and opposites, as well as the history of Western painting: A keyhole is a symbol for single-point perspective. Consequently, many keyholes refer to multiple perspectives. This is why the grid is a model for modernist painting: No one perspective is privileged. It is also a direct path for understanding how my work is about diversity and identity.

“My complementary key and keyhole forms echo my now completely interwoven Eastern and Western experience with art. What unfolds in these paintings is the step-by-step process by which a thing like a pig becomes an image, a personal symbol (I recently became a pig farmer), and a broader symbol that others can see (like a piggie bank) that can stand for ideas like prosperity, frugality, or even wealth and financial transactions.’’

Chris Powell: Conn. casinos are economic parasites that take money from the poorer and give to the richer

The Foxwoods casino complex, in Ledyard, Conn. The term “gaming” is used by casinos in place of “gambling’’ to make it sound more benign.

— Photo by Elfenbeinturm

MANCHESTER, Conn.

Back in the 1990s several rationales were offered when Connecticut approved its two Indian tribal casinos following enactment of the federal Indian Gaming Regulatory Act.

First was that since neighboring states had no casinos and did not seem to want any, Connecticut’s casinos might draw far more customers from out of state than from in state and thus collect more gambling tax revenue from them than from the state’s own residents.

Second was that the casinos, opened on tribal land in the relatively sparsely populated eastern part of the state, would boost the area economically.

And third was social justice. The casinos were portrayed as mechanisms of reparations for the mistreatment of the ancient Pequot and Mohegan people by the European culture that nearly destroyed them.

The third rationale was bogus. The last Pequots and Mohegans who had been mistreated by the Connecticut colony and its successor state died a century or more before Indian casino gambling was established. While members of Indian tribes in Western states were still suffering segregation and poverty, people of Indian descent in Connecticut had long been integrated into society and were living like everyone else.

But that didn’t matter, for the social-justice rationale corresponded with the advent of political correctness and gave people the impression that casinos were good if their owners were distant descendants of people who had been treated badly. Political correctness also gave the impression that anyone who objected to government's basing patronage on ethnicity was racist. This was intimidating and effective.

Now the first and second rationales for casino gambling in Connecticut have collapsed as well.

There are 20 other casinos in New England -- two in Maine, 13 in New Hampshire, three in Massachusetts, and two in Rhode Island. There are five in New York State. Connecticut’s two casinos increasingly draw their patrons from within the state’s own borders.

As a result, they have started taking more out of the state’s economy than they add to it. The two casinos still have thousands of employees, but they are sustained mainly by tens of thousands of customers who are Connecticut residents, people who, but for casino gambling in the state, might spend their entertainment money elsewhere in the state or at out-of-state casinos -- or even save it.

Casino gambling always has been a mechanism of taking money from the many and giving it to the few -- casino owners and their employees, with government skimming some in taxes. Connecticut got around that at the outset with its regional monopoly on casinos. But no more. Economically Connecticut’s casinos now redistribute money from the bottom to the top of the income scale in the state as most forms of gambling do -- and the other day the Hearst Connecticut newspapers calculated that the money being redistributed is in the many billions of dollars.

According to the Hearst report, legal gamblers in Connecticut have lost at least $56 billion since 1993, an amount that doesn’t include casino table games. Now that Connecticut has authorized Internet gambling -- from which the Indian casinos are paid a tribute for sharing their duopoly -- Hearst calculates that in the last five years gamblers in Connecticut have lost $922 million via FanDuel, Draft Kings, and Fanatics.

Since politics in Connecticut is so left-wing and sanctimonious, it might be expected to ask a few questions here, what with billions being transferred from the many to the few in an undertaking that produces so little value, and with gambling addiction exploding, destroying lives and families and causing ever-more bankruptcies.

But no questions are asked, perhaps because, as the Hearst report notes, state government’s total take from gambling -- from the state lottery, started in 1972, to the slot machine tax -- has reached $22 billion, and gambling revenue is now 2.5% of the state budget.

That much money for government seems able to salve most liberal consciences, no matter how it's obtained. It's now the only rationale for casino gambling in Connecticut. 

Chris Powell has written about Connecticut government and politics for many years (CPowell@cox.net).

Abigail Boggs: New rules to make it even tougher for foreign students (of whom N.E. famously has many)

Harvard Square, in Cambridge, Mass. The Greater Boston area hosts thousands of foreign students at its universities and colleges, of which Harvard, MIT, Boston University and Tufts are internationally famous. Harvard Square is sort of the psychic center of this higher-education capital.

From The Conversation (except for image above)

Middletown, Conn.

The Trump administration is revising a visa rule for international students that in part determines how long, and under what conditions, they can stay in the country. The change sounds technical. Its effects are not.

Beginning Sept. 15, 2026, most students entering the U.S. on F-1 and J-1 visas – meaning visas for international students and exchange visitors, including students and scholars – will no longer be admitted for “duration of status.” Duration of status means they can remain in the U.S. as long they are enrolled in their academic program, or shortly thereafter.

Now, academic visa holders will instead be able to stay in the country for a predetermined period of time, generally four years.

Those who need more time to complete a degree will have to reapply to U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services for permission to stay.

The change could also complicate international travel: Students returning to the U.S. will have to make sure their fixed period of admission has not expired, in addition to having the valid visa and school documents normally required for reentry.

The rule also lets full-time international students stay 30 days in the country after they complete their program, as opposed to the 60 days they currently have to remain in the U.S.

I study the history of international students in U.S. higher education. Universities rely on international students for tuition, teaching, research and other kinds of skilled work.

These new rules will make it harder for some international students to visit and stay in the country, a result that will likely have negative consequences for universities and colleges, too.

Harvard students rally in support of international students in May 2025. Rick Friedman/AFP via Getty Images

A look at international students

U.S. colleges and universities hosted 1,177,766 international students in the 2024-25 school year, an all-time high that made up approximately 6% of all higher education students.

Most of them were working toward degrees in in science, technology, engineering and mathematics.

Nearly 488,500 of those international students were seeking graduate degrees. More than 294,000 of them participated in a federal program called Optional Practical Training, which helps some international students work in jobs related to their field of study before or after they graduate.

International enrollment grew steadily at U.S. colleges and universities, from about 565,000 students in the 2004-05 school year to more than 1 million by the 2015-16 academic year.

Growth then slowed during the first Trump administration but began rising again after 2021.

The concentration is much higher in some programs and institutions. At Purdue, for example, international students make up 63% of graduate students in mechanical engineering. At Columbia University, non-U.S. residents made up 53% of graduate students in the fall of 2024.

Since 2024, the greatest number of international students has come from India. The next largest group is students from China. For more than a decade, students from China made up the largest group of international students in the U.S. But the number of Chinese students has dropped over the past several years.

International students are important for university finances, too.

Most of these students are not eligible for U.S. federal student aid or loans.

More than half of international students report “personal or family funds” as their primary source of financial support to help pay for their education. These students contributed nearly US$55 billion to the U.S. economy in 2024, according to the international student exchange nonprofit Institute of International Education.

International graduate students also frequently teach undergraduate courses, conduct experiments and staff research laboratories.

What the rule changes

Until now, most international students did not have to reapply to maintain or extend their standard F-1 student visa midway through their course of study.

And if a student remained enrolled and complied with immigration rules, a university could extend the student’s expected completion date of their program when more time was needed.

The new rule introduces a separate federal immigration review for every student whose course of study goes beyond four years. This, according to the Department of Homeland Security, will add 393,500 new visa reviews to the U.S. government workload each year.

Not a strict timeline

Academic work does not always proceed on schedule. Research changes direction. Funding gets delayed. A dissertation needs another semester.

If a student reaches the end of their visa’s limits before they finish their degree, a university can still say that the student is making appropriate progress and needs more time – but now the U.S. government will also have to agree that the student can remain enrolled and stay in the country.

The Presidents’ Alliance on Higher Education and Immigration is among the higher education groups that has warned the change could disrupt teaching and research, as well as discourage students from choosing a U.S. school altogether.

The Department of Homeland Security has acknowledged that the change may be disruptive. But the agency argues that fixed student visa time periods will give immigration officials more opportunities to check whether students are following visa requirements and to conduct national security screening.

A broader campaign

The first Trump administration proposed a similar policy in 2020. The Biden administration withdrew this visa proposal in 2021. Trump then revived the proposal after returning to office.

This policy change comes alongside other immigration changes that make it harder for international students to attend U.S. schools.

In 2025, the Trump White House tried unsuccessfully to stop Harvard from enrolling any international students. Federal courts blocked that measure in June 2025.

Secretary of State Marco Rubio also announced in May 2025 that the State Department was beginning to revoke visas of some Chinese students and increasing the scrutiny of prospective international students from China and Hong Kong.

The administration said in January 2026 that it had revoked 8,000 student visas since the start of Trump’s second term.

A graduate stands up alongside fellow classmates and country flags during the commencement at Brown University in Providence, R.I., in May 2025. Joseph Prezioso/Anadolu via Getty Images

Why it matters

The new rule does not end international education or impose a four-year maximum on all students’ degrees. It does mean, however, that more international students will need to get additional levels of federal approval so they can complete their education in the U.S.

A student in a six-year doctoral program can still finish their degree, but they will generally need federal approval to remain in the country beyond four years. A student in a two-year master’s program who finishes on schedule may never need an extension.

The four-year limit can also affect students whose programs are designed to take longer. The University of Cincinnati’s engineering degree generally takes five years to complete, for example. Some medical residency and fellowship pathways for J-1 physicians routinely extend five to seven years.

These new roadblocks can determine whether students finish degrees, or remain with their partners and children. They can also determine whether laboratories keep researchers and employers retain graduates trained in the U.S.

On Aug. 18, a coalition of higher education groups and unions sued to block the rule, arguing that requiring students to repeatedly seek federal permission to continue their studies will disrupt degree programs and make it harder for universities to recruit and retain students.

International students are woven into the everyday work of U.S. higher education. Making their ability to stay more dependent on repeated federal decisions will inevitably affect the institutions that rely on them.

Abigail Boggs is assistant professor of sociology and education studies at Wesleyan University.

She does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

‘Transnationalism in American art’

“Deer Woman’s New Medicine” (textiles, wood, cowhide and paint), by Natalie Ball, in the group show “Encounters With the Collection: Reframing America at 250,’’ at the William Benton Museum of Art. at the University of Connecticut’s main campus, at Storrs, Sept. 1, 2026-Sept. 1, 2026.

The museum says:

“Inspired by visitor feedback from our previous exhibition ‘Exploring America at 250,’ this show looks at transnationalism in American art from the 18th Century to the present. By showing case studies from the Benton's own collection alongside key loans from Art Bridges, the exhibition explores migration, cultural exchange, expatriate experience, and Indigenous sovereignty.’’

Bates College will self-correct

Hathorn Hall at Bates College in 2015, featuring respective classes' Ivy stones, in celebration of the college's Ivy Day.

Adapted from Robert Whitcomb’s “Digital Diary,’’ in GoLocal24.com

We need small rigorous liberal arts colleges that promote critical thinking and encourage their people to take the long view. The best ones, when they sometimes get carried away by practices and even fads that turn out not work well, self-correct — because of their fundamental respect for critical thinking.

Anyway, the public-relations  and admissions people at Bates College, a small,  well respected liberal-arts institution in the old factory town of Lewiston, Maine, must be very anxious now as they deal with Tyler Austin Harper’s piece “Confessions of  a Token Black Professor,” in the September issue of The Atlantic magazine. He was an assistant professor of “environmental studies’’ (a murky-sounding discipline) at Bates before becoming a writer at The Atlantic.

In his essay, he reports on the college’s past, sometimes stultifying,  hypocritical   and even hilariously crazy climate of identity politics, DEI and political correctness, even as it  has often ignored what might be a bigger issue – class and ever-widening income inequality, including at such “elite” schools as Bates. (The college, whose students come from households with a median household income of around $226,500, fought efforts to unionize faculty and staff.)

It should be noted that the college has since backed off from  a bit of its DEI obsessions, largely for fear of being punished by the Trump regime. Will it overreact? Like other anxious colleges and universities, it might now try to ignore the socio-economic harms of past racial discrimination as it weakens or eliminates affirmative-action efforts to help marginalized groups  -- enlightened self-interest efforts to ensure that it remains a national institution with students from widely different family backgrounds.

I was struck by Bates’s very self-conscious drive to uncover racial bias and “white privilege’’ in a setting where no one would openly express those things these days. The Orwellian attempt to discover those pathologies ignores the fact that no one can truly know what’s going on in someone else’s head. Judge people by their actions. A physics professor may harbor racist opinions but keep them to himself and be a superb teacher and researcher. Let the professor alone.

Anyway, Bates, founded in 1855 by Abolitionists, will self-correct from its current crisis.

Hit this link to read the article.

xxx

Meanwhile, the University of Michigan will drop first-semester grades to address students’ “mental-health crisis’’.  Sounds very humane, but how will students learn how to deal with life’s challenges if  given such passes in college? 

Wistful memory

“New England {late) Summer,’’ by Mabel May Woodward (1877-1945), prominent Impressionist painter. She\favored scenes in Rhode Island and Maine,

‘Dead and living coexist there’

The Duxbury Pier Light, built in 1871 and widely nicknamed "Bug Light" or "The Bug,"  marks the channel for the harbors of Plymouth, Kingston, and Duxbury.

“Out in the distance, along the horizon of the steel-colored water, a whale-watching boat slowly made its way into the harbor. It imperceptibly moved in a straight-line past Bug Light. Nicknamed ‘America's Hometown,’ Plymouth was unique. It was a place where the old and new, the dead and the living, the ancient and the modern seamlessly coexisted. Its shores were a haven - an opportunity - for any who were willing to come and make it their home.”

― Juliette Rose Kerr, Christian spiritual director and author of the novel To Fill a Jar With Water

And give us this day some evil

From the “Vermont Vice” show at the Bennington Museum through Nov. 2

The museum explains:

“Vermont is seen in the public imagination as an idyllic rural paradise, largely free from the darker elements of humanity. However, anyone who has lived here or studied our state’s history knows that this is not true. Vermont has always been home to many of the same issues that plague any other place settled by humans, ranging from counterfeiters, rum runners, and drug abuse to girlie shows, illicit gambling, and murder.  This exhibition explores these issues and more from the 18th- through the 20th-Century, featuring art by Ray Materson and Susan Meiselas and archival materials from the museum’s collection, including a recently acquired collection of material from the Green Mountain Racetrack, in Pownal.

‘Wholesome restraint’

Daniel Webster in 1847.

“Liberty exists in proportion to wholesome restraint; the more restraint on others to keep off from us, the more liberty we have."

— Daniel Webster (1782-1852), a famed lawyer who served as U.S. senator from Massachusetts, congressman representing New Hampshire and then Massachusetts, and secretary of state. He was considered the leading orator of his time but had what many considered too flexible moral principles, especially when it came to the slavery issue. He called slavery evil but was willing to compromise with the South on the issue to try to keep the country from splitting up.

Before the Interstates

Beware: High-profile vehicle

“Giraffe Wagon” (oil on plywood), by Alexander Nolan, in his show “Under the Big Top,’’ in Bangor, at the Zillman Art Museum of the University of Maine, through Sept. 5.

Kim Clark: Kicked out of hospice for dying too slowly

A hospice house in Reading, Mass.

From Kaiser Family Foundation Health News (excluding picture above)

“No more operations,” he said.

It was mid-January 2026, and my then-73-year-old husband, Mike Salmon, had just started bouncing back from a three-month ordeal of three operations related to aortic aneurysms, sepsis, and a terrifying descent into delirium tied to a stay in the intensive care unit. Now, after another potentially fatal aortic aneurysm and ambulance ride, the doctors clustered around his hospital bed said the fix involved two more major, risky operations.

If Mike did nothing, the aneurysm or sepsis would likely kill him, they predicted. How soon? “Weeks,” one doctor said. “I’m astonished I’ve made it this far,” Mike said. So, abruptly, we were shunted onto hospice care — the dead-end spur of the American medical system.

Hospice agencies manage care for patients expected to die within six months. They don’t provide curative procedures or drugs. Instead, they aim to help families make terminally ill patients comfortable, typically at home, as an illness reaches its inevitable conclusion. Families provide most of the day-to-day care, and 85% have suggested they are very satisfied with their hospice’s services, which include supplies of drugs and medical equipment, and visits from nurses, therapists, and aides.

More than 1.9 million Americans were enrolled in hospice in the last fiscal year. Over 80% of those patients stayed on hospice until they died — within four weeks, on average. But each year, about 6% of patients are kicked out because a hospice doctor decides they have stabilized or improved enough that they are no longer likely to die in the next six months.

In May, Mike joined that select group. His experience in and out of the hospice system revealed surprising lessons about how families can manage care. And getting removed from hospice revealed a little-known process that can represent a welcome respite for families like ours — but can be devastating for patients with serious chronic illnesses.

Here’s what we learned in our four months on and off hospice.

“Choose one.” A hospital nurse handed me a list of local hospice agencies. The sooner we signed up, the sooner Mike could go home. Stunned by the suddenness of Mike’s health emergency, I just pointed to the name at the top of the alphabetical list, assuming they were pretty much the same.

Big mistake. Medicare sets basic standards for the hospice agencies it reimburses, but some agencies are understaffed or poorly run. Amy Tucci, president of the Hospice Foundation of America, noted that some agencies provide extra therapy, aide support, and other services.

The problems with the organization I had chosen started immediately. Staffers were often late. They entered inaccurate medical information on Mike’s paperwork and didn’t make corrections when alerted. Medicare allows you to quit or change agencies, so I asked neighbors for recommendations.

That was a good start, but Kristina Newport, chief medical officer of the American Academy of Hospice and Palliative Medicine, said I should also have checked the quality ratings on Medicare’s Care Compare site and the National Hospice Locator. Those sites would have alerted me to our first agency’s low ratings. Ideally, Newport said, patients or caregivers should call their area’s top-rated agencies to find those that provide the services you need, such as staff members who speak the patient’s native language, provide spiritual care that aligns with the patient’s beliefs, or are stationed nearby to arrive quickly in an emergency.

The local, long-established nonprofit that neighbors recommended handled the transfer seamlessly. Its staff was punctual, accurate, and kind. The chef’s kiss after we switched: A nurse from the original company we chose called to say she hoped I hadn’t initiated the change because of “concerns about our care of your mother.”

Some people get better on hospice.

Research hasn’t yet fully explored why, but some people actually see their health improve under hospice care. Studies have found, for example, that hospice patients with congestive heart failure or lung cancer live about a month longer, on average, than similar patients in the standard medical system.

Terry Berthelot, who teaches courses on elder law and hospice care at the University of Connecticut, said many patients benefit from hospice’s careful pain management and from leaving hospitals, where they risk infection and overtreatment. Returning home allowed Mike to get up and walk without waiting hours for an overworked nurse to unplug a bunch of monitors, and to enjoy real food. Also, the hospice nurse gave him medicine to help him sleep through the night. He soon started regaining weight and strength.

You can flunk out of hospice for not dying quickly enough.

Medicare and many other insurers pay for hospice services only for patients whom physicians certify are likely to die within six months of the most recent assessment (not the date of enrollment), so hospice staffers regularly reassess patients. Medicare audits agencies to check for fraud and demands repayment of funds provided for care of patients its auditors deem have not proved to be terminal. Hospices, good and bad, worry about their bottom lines and Medicare’s fraud audits. They may feel pressure to discharge patients who threaten the organization’s finances, even though such discharges can remove important care. “Medicare is worried about fraud and abuse, not about people not getting enough care,” Berthelot said.

Especially for diagnoses with uncertain prognoses — such as dementia — if a patient improves or even stabilizes, hospice physicians might discharge the patient because they can no longer certify a likelihood of death within six months.

For some lucky reason, Mike’s aneurysm and sepsis held off. By early May, his wounds had healed, and his strength had improved enough that he returned to gardening, playing bridge, and whipping up his signature lattice-topped blueberry-cinnamon pies. While we appreciated the convenience of the nurse’s visits and the drug and medical supply delivery, we realized Mike no longer needed care, so we agreed with our agency’s decision to discharge him.

For patients suffering from more debilitating diseases, discharges can be a “nightmare,” said Krista Harrison, a hospice researcher at the University of California-San Francisco. Discharges often happen quickly. Medicare requires that patients be given a minimum of two days’ notice.

When Harrison’s stepfather, suffering from a neurodegenerative disease similar to Parkinson’s, was discharged because his health seemed to plateau, the family scrambled to replace and pay for hospice-provided equipment such as a hospital bed and oxygen supply, and they had to quickly find and hire aides to replace the hospice aides. “Just getting his prescriptions reestablished and filled was a big deal,” she said. Her stepfather died six weeks after discharge, she said.

Do your homework to ensure appropriate care.

Arming yourself with information about your risks and rights can help you get the hospice care you need when you need it.

• Know your diagnosis. Discharges are unlikely for most cancer patients. But patients with dementia, heart disease, and Parkinson’s often plateau. So they are disproportionately likely to be discharged, UCSF’s Harrison said.

• Choose a highly rated hospice. Research shows for-profit hospice agencies are more likely to discharge patients than nonprofits. Medicare’s Care Compare site will alert you to which is which.

• Keep your own records. Caregivers who can document, say, a patient’s growing need for eating assistance can help hospice staff approve continuing care, or build a stronger appeal, UCSF’s Harrison said.

• Keep your family doctor more informed. Doctors “don’t have the financial interest” the hospice faces and could help you dispute a discharge, Berthelot advised.

• Appeal quickly. Hospice agencies must provide information on appealing a discharge. But you must file the appeal (online or by phone) by noon on the day before the termination date, which may mean you have only a few hours if you’ve been given the minimum two days’ notice, said Wey-Wey Kwok, a senior attorney for the Center for Medicare Advocacy.

• Reenroll. Patients can try reenrolling in hospice at any time. Another hospice agency may take you immediately. Or you can wait until the patient’s health declines and try reenrolling with your original hospice agency, the Hospice Foundation’s Tucci advised.

That last option is our plan. For now, Mike and I are enjoying these unexpected bonus days. But whenever fate catches up with him, Mike said, he’s comforted to know he’ll get good care from the hospice’s staff. “They’ll try to improve the quality of what time I have left,” he said.

Kim Clark is a KFF reporter,

Purple mystery

Painting by the late Fred Garbers (1931-20217), in his show Sept. 18-Nov. 29 at the Provincetown Art Association and Museum.

Gerald FitzGerald: My 1982 campaign with Mike Dukakis

The 1982 Massachusetts Democratic gubernatorial primary election results.

Mike Dukakis wanted two pilots flying the helicopter. He always did. I guess if you are going to raise a couple of million or more to run for governor spending a bit extra on pilots can’t hurt. Might just make the difference between living and dying.

It was Sept. 11, 1982. We were at the tail end of a very hard-fought Democratic primary election campaign against incumbent  Massachusetts Gov. Ed King, who had beaten Dukakis, first elected in 1974, in the 1978 Democratic primary. The plan was to fly to Springfield for a big rally at the Civic Center, then motor to Worcester for another rally, at the Centrum, and then on to Boston. I knew that Sen. Ted Kennedy would accompany Dukakis on our trip. And I had heard  that there might be a celebrity supporter joining us as well. It was a bit surprising when we shifted in our seats to permit movie star Lauren Bacall and singer/songwriter James Taylor to climb aboard.

I’d been Mike’s campaign press secretary since January. My job was to squeeze the best coverage I could from newspapers, radio and television.

Not all that squeezing was just knowing when and how to react to attacks from our opponent. A chunk of the job was anticipatory: Stay on top of what might be used to bring down the other guy. Except as an observer, I had had no campaign experience of any kind before joining the ’82 run. As a newspaperman, I’d always been precluded from taking sides politically.

When the campaign started, the candidates included Thomas P. O’Neill III, a son of U.S. House Speaker Thomas P. “Tip’’ O’Neill Jr.  “Tommy’’  was still serving as lieutenant governor.

When I came to Boston, after my tour in Vietnam, Tommy was the reason I voted against Dukakis in 1974 because I saw hypocrisy in “The Duke,’’ as so-called “Mr. Clean,” choosing a running mate whose experience amounted to a single term as a state rep but who just happened to be son of the speaker of the U.S. House.

The first shot I’d slung at King was triggered by an April blizzard that struck Boston out of the blue. First, I got a tip that King was spotted in Florida at Hialeah Racetrack playing the ponies while Massachusetts residents were being smacked around by the weather. Easy enough, I called a wire service and asked them to send a photographer to shoot the governor gambling in the sunshine. The resulting photo ran in newspapers across Massachusetts next day.

I turned it into a “two’fer” by going to Brooks Brothers to buy a gift-wrapped sweater to deliver to Tommy O’Neill, who was acting governor since King was away, along with a note from Dukakis offering to help Tommy to run things, as then-Governor Dukakis famously did in the Blizzard of ’78. A photographer and a couple of reporters made sure that the public’s recollection of Mike’s competent leadership was refreshed.

Tommy was knocked out of the race in May through the brilliance of John Sasso, our campaign manager, and Jack Corrigan, our field director, who had the foresight and organization to stuff the February caucuses across the state to elect delegates who could be counted on in May to keep Tommy’s floor vote at the convention under the 15 percent minimum required to earn a spot on the primary ballot. After Dukakis  neutered Tommy’s campaign, The Duke sponsored a big fundraiser for him upstairs at Quincy Market, in downtown Boston, to help retire O’Neill’s campaign debt. I remember that mostly because I got to shake hands and chat with Tip.

The next best chance to trump King came as a gift from Boston Herald political columnist Peter Lucas. Lucas wrote a shamefully derogatory column excoriating New Bedford as “Pit City.” I read his brutally satirical piece with one eye as I drove up from home. I think  that Lucas may have been prompted by one of King’s cabinet secretaries, who’d recently been widely quoted describing New Bedford’s location in southeastern Massachusetts as being “at the end of the universe.”

I live very close to New Bedford and had just spent six years working there as a reporter and an editor of its daily newspaper, the Standard Times. I knew that Lucas did not know the city well enough to mock it in the detail contained in his column, but I also knew that the guy at the desk next to his in the State House press room had once lived and worked there. I could just see the two of them riding gales of laughter into the night as they one-upped each other with one acerbic reference to The Whaling City after another. I convinced myself that we could exploit this despicable column and spin it into gold for my candidate.

Arriving at campaign HQ, I quickly found Sasso and outlined my idea: Dukakis should immediately telephone Lucas and invite the columnist to accompany him on a personal tour of New Bedford so  that The Duke could show Lucas how wrong he was about the city. If Lucas accepted, I would then call every major news outlet in Massachusetts to invite them along. It was a no-lose proposal, but it had to happen now – before King got the same idea.

John approved and I then pitched it to Dukakis, who came completely on board. Lucas accepted his offer. I knew that the idea was solid when big shot power broker from the New Bedford area, William Q. “Biff” MacLean Jr., a King supporter, later telephoned Sasso to threaten that unless Dukakis called off the escapade, MacLean would not back him for governor even if King lost.

When tour New Bedford day arrived, it was a smash publicity extravaganza covered by the A.P., U.P.I., The Boston Globe, The Boston  Herald, TV Channels 2,4, 5, 6,7,10, 12, 56 ,and radio stations WBZ, WHDH, WEEI and WGBH, plus the locals.

Back at Logan Airport our celebrity-laden helicopter lifted off to the sound of its rotors beating overhead and the usual jerky movements as it thumps and vibrates to gain traction on thin air. I was used to riding helicopters. In ‘Nam I was aboard numerous airborne combat assaults. To me, few experiences suggest the fragility of life more than the precarity of a rising helicopter. Aware of my companions as we beat our way above the buildings and traffic, I recall my thoughts precisely: If this chopper falls from the sky the story will be entirely theirs. “CRASH KILLS DUKAKIS, KENNEDY, LAUREN BACALL AND JAMES TAYLOR, TWO PILOTS AND AN AIDE.” They won’t even mention my name.

Of course, we all made it safely. Three days later we beat King statewide by about seven points. Dukakis carried the City of New Bedford by just 563 votes of more than 17,000 cast there. He was elected governor in November.

Gerald FitzGerald is a writer based on the Massachusetts South Coast. He has been a newspaper editor, reporter, prosecutor and defense lawyer.