Think of the preseason hurricane forecast as the 30,000-foot view: It can’t predict if or when a storm will hit a particular location, but it can offer insight into how many storms are likely to form throughout the entire Atlantic, and how active the season overall might be. These outlooks rely heavily on two large-scale climate factors. The first is the sea surface temperature in areas where tropical cyclones tend to form and grow. Hurricanes draw their energy from warm ocean water. So when the Atlantic is unusually warm, as it has been in recent years, it provides more fuel for storms to form and intensify.Once water temperatures are 79 degrees Fahrenheit (26 degrees Celsius), hurricanes can form. Most of the Gulf was above that by late May 2025.NOAA/NESDIS The second key ingredient that meteorologists have their eye on is the El Niño–Southern Oscillation, which forecasters refer to as ENSO. ENSO is a climate cycle that shifts every few years between three main phases: El Niño, La Niña, and a neutral space that lives somewhere in between. During El Niño, winds over the Atlantic high up in the troposphere – roughly 25,000 to 40,000 feet – strengthen and can disrupt storms and hurricanes. La Niña, on the other hand, tends to reduce these winds, making it easier for storms to form and grow. When you look over the historical hurricane record, La Niña years have tended to be busier than their El Niño counterparts, as we saw from 2020 through 2023. We’re in the neutral phase as the 2025 hurricane season begins, and probably will be for at least a few more months. That means upper-level winds aren’t particularly hostile to hurricanes, but they’re not exactly rolling out the red carpet either. At the same time, sea surface temperatures are running warmer than the 30-year average, but not quite at the record-breaking levels seen in some recent seasons. Taken together, these conditions point to a moderately above-average hurricane season. It’s important to emphasize that these factors merely load the dice, tilting the odds toward more or fewer storms, but not guaranteeing an outcome. A host of other variables influence whether a storm actually forms, how strong it becomes, and whether it ever threatens land.
The smaller influences forecasters can’t see yet
Once hurricane season is underway, forecasters start paying close attention to shorter-term influences. These subseasonal factors evolve quickly enough that they don’t shape the entire season. However, they can noticeably raise or lower the chances for storms developing in the coming two to four weeks. One factor is dust lofted from the Sahara Desert by strong winds and carried from east to west across the Atlantic. These dust plumes tend to suppress hurricanes by drying out the atmosphere and reducing sunlight that reaches the ocean surface. Dust outbreaks are next-to-impossible to predict months in advance, but satellite observations of growing plumes can give forecasters a heads-up a couple weeks before the dust reaches the primary hurricane development region off the coast of Africa.Dust blowing in from the Sahara Desert can tamp down hurricane activities by shading the ocean over the main development region for hurricanes and drying out the atmosphere, just off the African coast. This plume spread over 2,000 miles in June 2020.NASA Another key ingredient that doesn’t go into seasonal forecasts but becomes important during the season are African easterly waves. These “waves” are clusters of thunderstorms that roll off the West African coast, tracking from east to west across the ocean. Most major storms in the Atlantic basin, especially in the peak months of August and September, can trace their origins back to one of these waves. Forecasters monitor strong waves as they begin their westward journey across the Atlantic, knowing they can provide some insight about potential risks to U.S. interests one to two weeks in advance. Also in this subseasonal mix is the Madden–Julian Oscillation. The MJO is a wave-like pulse of atmospheric activity that moves slowly around the tropics every 30 to 60 days. When the MJO is active over the Atlantic, it enhances the formation of thunderstorms associated with hurricanes. In its suppressed phase, storm activity tends to die down. The MJO doesn’t guarantee storms – or a lack of them – but it turns up or down the odds. Its phase and position can be tracked two or three weeks in advance. Lastly, forecasters will talk about the Loop Current, a deep river of warm water that flows from the Caribbean into the Gulf of Mexico. When storms pass over the Loop Current or its warm eddies, they can rapidly intensify because they are drawing energy from not just the warm surface water but from warm water that’s tens of meters deep. The Loop Current has helped power several historic Gulf storms, including Hurricanes Katrina in 2005 and Ida in 2021.The Loop Current stretched well into the Gulf in May 2022. The scale, in meters, shows the maximum depth at which temperatures were 78 F (26 C) or greater.Nick Shay/University of Miami, CC BY-ND But the Loop Current is always shifting. Its strength and location in early summer may look very different by late August or September. Combined, these subseasonal signals help forecasters fine-tune their outlooks as the season unfolds.
Where hurricanes form shifts over the months
Where storms are most likely to form and make landfall also changes as the pages of the calendar turn. In early summer, the Gulf of Mexico warms up faster than the open Atlantic, making it a notable hotspot for early-season tropical storm development, especially in June and July. The Texas coast, Louisiana, and the Florida Panhandle often face a higher early-season risk than locations along the Eastern seaboard.These are generally the busiest areas during each month of hurricane season, but that doesn’t mean hurricanes won’t make landfall elsewhere.NOAA By August and September, the season reaches its peak. This is when those waves moving off the coast of Africa become a primary source of storm activity. These long-track storms are sometimes called “Cape Verde hurricanes” because they originate near the Cape Verde Islands off the African coast. While many stay over open water, others can gather steam and track toward the Caribbean, Florida or the Carolinas. Later in the hurricane season, storms are more likely to form in the western Atlantic or Caribbean, where waters are still warm and upper-level winds remain favorable. These late-season systems have a higher probability of following atypical paths, as Sandy did in 2012 when it struck the New York City region and Milton did in 2024 before making landfall in Florida. At the end of the day, the safest way to think about hurricane season is this: If you live along the coast, don’t let your guard down. Areas susceptible to hurricanes are never totally immune from hurricanes, and it only takes one to make it a dangerous – and unforgettable – season. Colin Zarzycki, Associate Professor of Meteorology and Climate Dynamics, Penn State This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.
How to avoid seeing disturbing video on social media and protect your peace of mind
When graphic videos like those of the recent shooting of a protester by federal agents in Minneapolis go viral, it can feel impossible to protect yourself from seeing things you did not consent to see. But there are steps you can take.
Social media platforms are designed to maximize engagement, not protect your peace of mind. The major platforms have also reduced their content moderation efforts over the past year or so. That means upsetting content can reach you even when you never chose to watch it.
You do not have to watch every piece of content that crosses your screen, however. Protecting your own mental state is not avoidance or denial. As a researcher who studies ways to counteract the negative effects of social media on mental health and well-being, I believe it’s a way of safeguarding the bandwidth you need to stay engaged, compassionate and effective.
Why this matters
Research shows that repeated exposure to violent or disturbing media can increase stress, heighten anxiety and contribute to feelings of helplessness. These effects are not just short-term. Over time, they erode the emotional resources you rely on to care for yourself and others.
Protecting your attention is a form of care. Liberating your attention from harmful content is not withdrawal. It is reclaiming your most powerful creative force: your consciousness.
Just as with food, not everything on the table is meant to be eaten. You wouldn’t eat something spoiled or toxic simply because it was served to you. In the same way, not every piece of media laid out in your feed deserves your attention. Choosing what to consume is a matter of health.
And while you can choose what you keep in your own kitchen cabinets, you often have less control over what shows up in your feeds. That is why it helps to take intentional steps to filter, block and set boundaries.
Practical steps you can take
Fortunately, there are straightforward ways to reduce your chances of being confronted with violent or disturbing videos. Here are four that I recommend:
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Turn off autoplay or limit sensitive content. Note that these settings can vary depending on device, operating system and app version, and can change.
Use keyword filters. Most platforms allow you to mute or block specific words, phrases or hashtags. This reduces the chance that graphic or violent content slips into your feed.
Curate your feed. Unfollow accounts that regularly share disturbing images. Follow accounts that bring you knowledge, connection or joy instead.
Set boundaries. Reserve phone-free time during meals or before bed. Research shows that intentional breaks reduce stress and improve well-being.
Where to turn off autoplay in your account on Facebook’s website. Screen capture by The Conversation, CC BY-ND
Reclaim your agency
Social media is not neutral. Its algorithms are engineered to hold your attention, even when that means amplifying harmful or sensational material. Watching passively only serves the interests of the social media companies. Choosing to protect your attention is a way to reclaim your agency.
The urge to follow along in real time can be strong, especially during crises. But choosing not to watch every disturbing image is not neglect; it is self-preservation. Looking away protects your ability to act with purpose. When your attention is hijacked, your energy goes into shock and outrage. When your attention is steady, you can choose where to invest it.
You are not powerless. Every boundary you set – whether it is turning off autoplay, filtering content or curating your feed – is a way of taking control over what enters your mind. These actions are the foundation for being able to connect with others, help people and work for meaningful change.
More resources
I’m the executive director of the Post-Internet Project, a nonprofit dedicated to helping people navigate the psychological and social challenges of life online. With my team, I designed the evidence-backedPRISM intervention to help people manage their social media use.
Our research-based program emphasizes agency, intention and values alignment as the keys to developing healthier patterns of media consumption. You can try the PRISM process for yourself with an online class I launched through Coursera in October 2025. You can find the course, Values Aligned Media Consumption, on Coursera. The course is aimed at anyone 18 and over, and the videos are free to watch.
This story was updated on Jan. 25, 2026 to include reference to the recent shooting in Minneapolis.
Greenland’s Inuit have spent decades fighting for self-determination
The article highlights the Inuit communities in Greenland amid global discussions about the island’s ownership, particularly regarding U.S. President Trump’s interest. It chronicles the Inuit’s historical presence, their traditional lifestyles, and the ongoing struggle for self-determination. Despite colonial influences, modern Kalaallit strive for recognition and independence.
Amid the discussion between U.S. President Donald Trump and Danish and European leaders about who should own Greenland, the Inuit who live there and call it home aren’t getting much attention.
The Kalaallit (Inuit of West Greenland), the Tunumi (Inuit of East Greenland) and the Inughuit (Inuit of North Greenland) together represent nearly 90% of the population of Greenland, which totals about 57,000 people across 830,000 square miles (2.1 million square kilometers).
We are Arcticanthropologists who work in a museum focused on the Arctic and its people. One of the areas we study is a land whose inhabitants call it Kalaallit Nunaat, or land of the Kalaallit. Known in English as Greenland, it is an Indigenous nation whose relatively few people have been working for decades to reclaim their right to self-determination.
For nearly 5,000 years, northwestern Greenland – including the area that is now the U.S. Space Force’s Pituffik Space Base, formerly known as Thule Air Force Base – was the island’s main entry point. A succession of Indigenous groups moved eastward from the Bering Strait region and settled in Siberia, Alaska, Canada and Greenland.
Approximately 1,000 years ago, the ancestors of the Inuit living in Greenland today arrived in that area with sophisticated technologies that allowed them to thrive in a dynamic Arctic environment where minor mishaps can have serious consequences. They hunted animals using specialized technologies and tools, including kayaks, dog-drawn sleds, complex harpoons, and snow goggles made from wood or bone with slits cut into them. They dressed in highly engineered garments made from animal fur that kept them warm and dry in all conditions.
Their tools and clothing were imbued with symbolic meanings that reflected their worldview, in which humans and animals are interdependent. Inughuit families who live in the region today continue to hunt and fish, while navigating a warming climate.Local people fish from a small boat by an iceberg with an ice cave, near Ilulissat, in 2008. Bryan Alexander, courtesy of the Peary-MacMillan Arctic Museum, Bowdoin College, CC BY-NC-ND
Arrivals from the east
At Qassiarsuk in south Greenland, around the time Inuit arrived in the north, Erik the Red established the first Norse farm, Brattahlíð, in 986, and sent word back to Iceland to encourage others to join him, as described in an online exhibit at the Greenland National Museum. Numerous Norse families followed and established pastoral farms in the region.
As Inuit expanded southward, they encountered the Norse farmers. Inuit and Norse traded, but relations were sometimes tense: Inuit oral histories and Norse sagas describe some violent interactions. The two groups maintained distinctly different approaches to living on the land that rims Greenland’s massive ice sheet. The Norse were very place-based, while the Inuit moved seasonally, hunting around islands, bays and fjords.
As the Little Ice Age set in early in the 14th century, and temperatures dropped in the Northern Hemisphere, the Norse were not equipped to adjust to the changing conditions. Their colonies faltered and by 1500 had disappeared. By contrast, the mobile Inuit took a more flexible approach and hunted both land and marine mammals according to their availability. They continued living in the region without much change to their lifestyle.
A center of activity
In Nuuk, the modern capital of Greenland, an imposing and controversial statue of missionary Hans Egede commemorates his arrival in 1721 to establish a Lutheran mission in a place he called Godthåb.
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In 1776, as trade became more important, the Danish government established the Royal Greenland Trading Department, a trading monopoly that administered the communities on the west coast of Greenland as a closed colony for the next 150 years.
By the 19th century some Kalaallit families who lived in Nuuk/Godthåb had formed an educated, urban class of ministers, educators, artists and writers, although Danish colonists continued to rule.
Meanwhile, Kalaallit families in small coastal communities continued to engage in traditional economic and social activities, based on respect of animals and sharing of resources.
On the more remote east coast and in the far north, colonization took root more slowly, leaving explorers such as American Robert Peary and traders such as Danish-Greenlandic Knud Rasmussen a free hand to employ and trade with local people.
A 1944 ad urging U.S. customers to buy shortwave radios touts contact with the people of Greenland as one benefit. Courtesy of the Peary-MacMillan Arctic Museum, Bowdoin College, CC BY-NC-ND
World War II brought the outside world to Greenland’s door. With Denmark under Nazi control, the U.S. took responsibility for protecting the strategically important island of Greenland and built military bases on both the east and west coasts. The U.S. made efforts to keep military personnel and Kalaallit apart but were not entirely successful, and some visiting and trading went on. Radios and broadcast news also spread, and Kalaallit began to gain a sense of the world beyond their borders.
The Cold War brought more changes, including the forced relocation of 27 Inughuit families living near the newly constructed U.S. Air Force base at Thule to Qaanaaq, where they lived in tents until small wooden homes were built.
In 1953, Denmark revised parts of its constitution, including changing the status of Greenland from a colony to one of the nation’s counties, thereby making all Kalaallit residents of Greenland also full-fledged citizens of Denmark. For the first time, Kalaallit had elected representatives in the Danish parliament.
Denmark also increased assimilation efforts, promoting the Danish language and culture at the expense of Kalaallisut, the Greenlandic language. Among other projects, the Danish authorities sent Greenlandic children to residential schools in Denmark.
In Nuuk in the 1970s, a new generation of young Kalaallit politicians emerged, eager to protect and promote the use of Kalaallisut and gain greater control over Greenland’s affairs. The rock band Sumé, singing protest songs in Kalaallisut, contributed to the political awakening. https://www.youtube.com/embed/qe-f6jleXFs?wmode=transparent&start=0 Sumé, a rock band singing in Kalaallisut, the Greenlandic language, helped galvanize a political movement for self-determination in the 1970s.
In a 1979 Greenland-wide referendum, a substantial majority of Kalaallit voters opted for what was called “home rule” within the Danish Kingdom. That meant a parliament of elected Kalaallit representatives handled internal affairs, such as education and social welfare, while Denmark retained control of foreign affairs and mineral rights.
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However, the push for full independence from Denmark continued: In 2009, home rule was replaced by a policy of self-government, which outlines a clear path to independence from Denmark, based on negotiations following a potential future referendum vote by Greenlanders. Self-government also allows Greenland to assert and benefit from control over its mineral resources, but not to manage foreign affairs.
Today, Nuuk is a busy, vibrant, modern city. Life is quieter in smaller settlements, where hunting and fishing are still a way of life. While contemporary Greenland encompasses this range of lifestyles, Kalaallit are unified in their desire for self-determination. Greenland’s leaders have delivered this message clearly to the public and to the White House directly.
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Why Arizona Republicans Are Pushing Back on Light Rail to the State Capitol — and What It Means for the West Valley
Arizona’s debate over a proposed light rail extension to the State Capitol has intensified. Supporters argue it promotes connectivity and equity, while Republicans oppose it due to cost concerns and a preference for car-centric infrastructure. The outcome will impact future west-side transit expansions and shape regional transportation priorities.
Arizona’s long-running debate over public transit has flared up again, this time over a proposed Valley Metro light rail extension that would bring rail service closer to the Arizona State Capitol complex. While Phoenix and Valley Metro leaders argue the project is a logical next step in regional mobility, Republican leaders at the state Capitol have mounted strong opposition — creating uncertainty not just for this segment, but for future west-side expansions.
The Case for the Capitol Light Rail Extension
Supporters of the project, including Valley Metro officials, Phoenix city leaders, transit advocates, and many west Phoenix residents, argue that extending light rail toward the Capitol area is both practical and symbolic.
From a planning standpoint, the Capitol is a major employment center that draws thousands of workers, visitors, and students. Transit planners say rail access would reduce congestion, improve air quality, and provide reliable transportation for residents who already depend heavily on public transit.
Proponents also emphasize equity. West Phoenix has historically received fewer infrastructure investments than other parts of the metro area, despite strong transit ridership. For supporters, extending rail service westward is about connecting communities to jobs, education, and government services — not politics.
Why is Arizona fighting over a light rail line to the State Capitol?
There is also a broader regional argument: light rail lines function best as part of a connected network. Leaving a gap near a central civic destination, supporters say, undermines long-term system efficiency.
Why Republican Lawmakers Are Opposed
Republican leaders in the Arizona Legislature see the project very differently.
One major issue is cost. GOP lawmakers frequently point to the rising price of light rail construction, which has increased significantly over the past decade. They argue that rail projects deliver limited benefit compared to their expense and that bus service or roadway improvements could move more people at lower cost.
Usage is another concern. Critics note that light rail serves a relatively small percentage of total commuters in the Phoenix metro area and requires ongoing public subsidies to operate. From this perspective, expanding rail further — especially into politically sensitive areas like the Capitol — is viewed as fiscally irresponsible.
There is also a political and legal dimension. In recent years, Republican lawmakers passed legislation restricting light rail construction near the Capitol complex. While framed as a land-use and security issue, critics argue it reflects deeper ideological opposition to rail transit and urban-oriented infrastructure.
Finally, some GOP leaders simply prefer different transportation priorities. Arizona remains a car-centric state, and many Republican officials believe future investments should focus on highways, autonomous vehicle technology, or flexible transit options rather than fixed rail.
A Political Standoff with Real Transit Consequences
The dispute has become a high-stakes standoff between the Republican-controlled Legislature and Democratic leaders at the city and regional level. While lawmakers may not be able to directly cancel the project, they have significant leverage through funding approvals, oversight committees, and future legislation.
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This uncertainty creates challenges for Valley Metro, which relies on long-term planning, federal funding commitments, and voter-approved local taxes. Transit systems work best with predictability — and political volatility can drive up costs or delay construction.
What This Means for West Valley Light Rail Expansion
The biggest question is what happens next for west Phoenix and the broader West Valley.
If the Capitol-area extension is altered or blocked, Valley Metro may be forced to redesign routes that avoid the restricted area, potentially making service less direct or less useful. That could weaken the case for future westward expansions toward areas like Maryvale or even farther west.
On the other hand, the controversy has also drawn renewed attention to west-side transit needs. Some advocates believe the political fight could energize local support, leading to stronger community backing and clearer messaging about why rail matters in west Phoenix.
Long term, the outcome may set a precedent. If state lawmakers successfully limit rail construction through legislative action, it could signal tighter constraints on future expansions. If cities push forward despite opposition, it may reaffirm local control over transportation planning.
The Bigger Picture
At its core, the debate over light rail to the Arizona State Capitol reflects a broader clash of visions for the region’s future: one focused on dense, transit-oriented growth, and another centered on fiscal restraint and automobile mobility.
For residents of the West Valley, the stakes are tangible. The decision will shape access to jobs, education, and public services for decades. Whether the project moves forward as planned, is rerouted, or delayed entirely, it will leave a lasting imprint on how — and for whom — the Valley’s transit system grows.
As Phoenix continues to expand westward, the question remains unresolved: will light rail be allowed to follow?
Rod: A creative force, blending words, images, and flavors. Blogger, writer, filmmaker, and photographer. Cooking enthusiast with a sci-fi vision. Passionate about his upcoming series and dedicated to TNC Network. Partnered with Rebecca Washington for a shared journey of love and art. View all posts
