Though artificial intelligence is making it easier than ever to produce images, music and text, the technology is also making it harder for the people who have traditionally produced this work to earn a living.

A photographer who once was commissioned to make art for an advertising campaign is now competing with graphics produced by the AI image generator Midjourney. A novelist who used to make money on the side as a technical writer is seeing that work be replaced by a series of prompts in ChatGPT.

The extent to which AI will upend creative work remains unsettled. But that uncertainty has made guaranteeing income for creatives a more viable policy idea.

In fact, creatives in New York recently participated in the largest basic income program for artists in U.S. history, the Guaranteed Income for Artists initiative.

Spearheaded by Creatives Rebuild New York and primarily funded by the Andrew W. Mellon Foundation, the program gave 2,400 artists across New York state US$1,000 a month beginning in June 2022. There were no work requirements and no restrictions on how the money could be spent. The program sought to improve the financial stability of artists and encourage the public to see them as workers who deserve a stable income and social support.

As researchers who study artists, cultural work and public policy, we evaluated this program to see whether it achieved its stated goals. Our main finding was simple: Artists did not stop working. Instead, they changed the kind of work they did.

Cash buys time

Artists often make choices that look strange in standard economic models, which typically assume workers will prioritize higher wages while balancing work against leisure time.

Artists, on the other hand, may stay in poorly paid, unstable arts work, even when other work pays more. Economists have long described this as a “work-preference” model. Put plainly, they argue that artists get value from the work itself, not just from the paycheck.

The guaranteed-income program, which was geared toward low-income artists, offered a rare chance to see how a financial cushion would influence the kind of work they focused on, along with their overall earnings.

The program selected artists through a weighted lottery. It adopted an expansive definition of “artist.” Anyone engaged in artistic, cultural or community-centered creative practices – such as musicians, storytellers or muralists – was eligible to apply. However, it excluded commercial workers like wedding photographers or food caterers.

Our analysis, which is forthcoming in the Journal of Cultural Economics, compared artists who received payments with applicants who hadn’t been selected.

For purposes of the study, artists broke down their work time into “artistic/cultural practice(s),” “other arts work” and “non-arts work.” The work didn’t necessarily have to involve a paycheck or stipend; it could simply mean time spent on a personal artistic pursuit. However, it’s safe to assume that “non-arts work” usually involved some sort of side job to earn extra money.

The results lined up almost exactly with what the work-preference model predicts. Artists who received the payments spent about 3.9 more hours per week on arts work than comparable artists who did not receive the payments. They also spent about 2.4 fewer hours per week on non-arts work.

Opponents to basic income programs often argue that recipients will become less motivated to do any work whatsoever. That isn’t what happened, though. The money helped artists move time out of work they were doing mainly to survive, and into the creative work they preferred.

Earnings told a messier story

The earnings results were more complicated.

Artists receiving the monthly payments earned significantly less from non-arts work. That makes sense, given that many of them switched away from non-arts work. But total earnings from all work also fell by about $11,600 a year on average, close to the $12,000 annual value of the cash payments.

But we cannot confidently say that the basic income program reduced total earnings by that amount. That’s because artists’ incomes are so volatile: A few commissions, contracts, sales or cancellations can dramatically change what artists earn in a given year. Income varied widely among both the artists who received monthly payments and the applicants who hadn’t been selected, which made it hard to see the precise cause and effect of the program on total earnings.

The program may have given artists enough financial room to stop chasing some non-arts income, but it did not change their overall income from where it had been.

That is a very different policy effect than “more cash equals more income.” It is closer to “more cash equals more control over time.”

A lesson beyond the arts

The findings do not mean that guaranteed income is the right policy for everyone. Artists are unique. Many have strong reasons to keep doing creative work even when it pays poorly.

The study also took place after the COVID-19 pandemic, while the arts and entertainment sector was still recovering. And Creatives Rebuild New York’s guaranteed-income program was a temporary, one-time opportunity.

A longer-term follow-up could show whether these shifts lasted. Did artists keep making more art after the payments ended? Did the extra time they spent on their own artistic pursuits lead to new work, new income or more stable careers? Those questions remain open.

But to us, the most important lesson may be that work is not one thing.

A monthly cash transfer can reduce one kind of work while increasing another. It can lower earnings from gigs people take mainly to pay the bills, while freeing up time to spend on work that is meaningful, socially valuable or personally sustaining.

For artists in this program, $1,000 a month did not buy a vacation or a chance to slack off. It bought time for work they valued more.

That distinction matters, particularly as debates over the use of basic income policies grow alongside advances in AI and automation. The question is not only whether people work when they receive cash with no strings attached. It is what kind of work becomes possible when financial pressures ease.

Joanna was previously funded by Creatives Rebuild New York to conduct an independent evaluation of their Guaranteed Income for Artists program.

Doug Noonan receives funding from the National Endowment for the Arts. He previously was funded by Creatives Rebuild New York to conduct an independent evaluation of their Guaranteed Income for Artists program.

With the 2026 midterms less than six months away, the Election Security Group would normally be busy helping prepare the nation’s election infrastructure. The federal task force typically briefs Congress on upcoming threats and engages with state and local leaders to game out scenarios ranging from ransomware to critical infrastructure attacks on Election Day.

But Gen. Joshua Rudd, director of the National Security Agency and commander of the U.S. Cyber Command – the two agencies that jointly run the Election Security Group – told the Senate Armed Services Committee on April 28, 2026, that he didn’t know whether the group had been set up yet. The Election Security Group has worked every federal election cycle since 2018, but, as of mid-May, there is no public indication it has been activated.

This pending Election Security Group activation follows the Trump administration’s 2025 decision to defund the Elections Infrastructure Information Sharing and Analysis Center, the threat-sharing hub that helped make 2024 the most cyber-secure election in U.S. history, according to the Center for Internet Security, a nonprofit focused on protecting against digital threats. A White House spokesperson said of the cuts at the time that EI-ISAC’s work no longer effectuated the priorities of the Department of Homeland Security.

These losses – and the disbanding of other federal offices that counter foreign influence operations – make it harder for local officials to learn of threats to election infrastructure, like AI-enabled targeting of voting tabulation systems or deepfakes of candidates. Little is known about whether the proactive cyber deterrence that has defined U.S. elections for much of the past decade remains in place in any other form.

I’m a scholar of global efforts to secure democracy, and I co-edited a book called “Securing Democracies” about cyberattacks and disinformation worldwide. I can attest to the importance of guarding against foreign efforts to undermine trust in U.S. elections and believe that, without groups like the EI-ISAC and the Election Security Group in place, the 2026 midterms could mark a milestone: For the first time in perhaps a decade, the next election may be less secure than the last.

A decade of election defense

The Russian-backed Internet Research Agency began targeting the U.S. political system to sow divisions in 2014. Thanks to Internet Research Agency troll farms – organized groups paid to flood social media platforms with fake or divisive content – disinformation proliferated through the 2016 election. At the same time, Russia’s GRU – its military intelligence agency – homed in on the Democratic National Committee and probed all 50 state election systems. It breached Hillary Clinton’s campaign and compromised election systems in Illinois.

Though there is no evidence that votes were altered as a result, Russian influence exposed the country’s election vulnerabilities and set the stage for extensive investigations and hearings questioning how the U.S. government should respond. It left lasting damage in its wake, like lower trust in electoral processes and widened political divides.

In the final weeks of the Obama administration, the Department of Homeland Security designated election infrastructure as critical, akin to water and electricity. The first Trump administration built on that designation and created the Cybersecurity and Infrastructure Security Agency, a component of the Department of Homeland Security, in 2018. That same year, the National Security Agency and U.S. Cyber Command – the military nerve center for cybersecurity – partnered to launch what was initially called the Russia Small Group, a task force to guard U.S. election infrastructure against Russian interference.

Since at least the Obama administration, the U.S. had been largely focused on defensive measures to protect elections, like multifactor authentication and encryption, which make it harder to compromise systems in the first place. The Trump administration wanted to be more proactive, to put adversaries on notice and deter future attacks. This approach is known as defending forward, or persistent engagement.

The test for this new, more activist policy came during the 2018 midterms, as the Internet Research Agency again tried to widen divisions in U.S. society through hundreds of thousands of manufactured tweets and posts that made divisive views appear more widely shared than they were on both sides of hot-button issues. This time, however, the Russia Small Group took the Internet Research Agency offline during and immediately after the election. Although the details are classified, public reporting indicates that Cyber Command temporarily disrupted the Internet Research Agency’s internet access and sent direct messages to operatives warning them against such activities and instructing them to not interfere in U.S. elections.

The Election Security Group

By the 2020 presidential election, the Russia Small Group had been renamed the Election Security Group, and its scope expanded beyond Russia to include China, Iran, North Korea and nonstate actors. It worked to “disrupt, deter and degrade foreign adversaries’ ability to interfere with and influence how U.S. citizens vote and how those votes are counted.”

The Election Security Group does this through detailed information-sharing across agencies and with local officials and the private sector. If, for instance, a foreign influence campaign falsely claims that polling places have closed early in a swing state, the Election Security Group can alert election officials, platforms and distributed cybersecurity teams before the claim goes viral. In true “defend forward” spirit, it can also help cut off foreign trolls and state-backed hackers from what’s needed to run an influence operation, like internet access, servers and accounts.

Typically, it is active during election years, serving as a vital coordination hub and turning intelligence about foreign election threats into warnings, defensive measures and offensive operations.

The Election Security Group’s absence comes at a time when both threats and technological vulnerabilities are multiplying.

The 2026 midterms

The current election cycle, in many ways, is more prone to targeting than previous ones because of the Iran war, AI-powered cyberattacks, nation state–sponsored attacks against U.S. election infrastructure, and the firing of key Cybersecurity and Infrastructure Security Agency personnel who worked with tech companies to spot election-related deepfakes and inaccurate or misleading content.

These challenges – combined with losing the EI-ISAC and, possibly, the Election Security Group – could leave the U.S. less prepared this November. Local and state election officials have fewer places to turn for the latest intelligence, and Congress is less informed about pressing threats – all while global U.S. standing is slipping and foreign adversaries could feel emboldened.

The Election Security Group, which was created by the first Trump administration – alongside both the Elections Infrastructure Information Sharing and Analysis Center and the Cybersecurity and Infrastructure Security Agency – has been an important weapon in the U.S. arsenal to defend vulnerable election systems. What fills these gaps remains unclear. One outlet has reported that plans to revive the Election Security Group are beginning to move through senior intelligence and defense channels, weeks after Rudd’s testimony. Even if the group is activated immediately, it will have less than six months to do what it has historically done across a full election year. With early voting beginning in some states even sooner, the clock is ticking.

The views expressed in this article are the author's own.

As the Trump administration moves to weaken America’s air pollution rules, it is deploying new legal interpretations that are intended to tie the hands of future administrations for years to come.

In practice, the changes limit the Environmental Protection Agency’s authority under the Clean Air Act. The result allows EPA officials to ignore science, data and the adverse effects their decisions will have on public health and the environment.

But the new interpretations are also designed to apply not just to the rule in which they are first set forth but into the future.

If affirmed by the U.S. Supreme Court in inevitable legal challenges, these interpretations could make it harder for future administrations to restore the public health protections that the Trump administration eliminates. They could also make it difficult to update rules to respond to new information about health risks.

Typically, moves to weaken pollution regulations through novel legal interpretations would have a good chance of being overturned in court. But the EPA’s new interpretations are strategically designed to appeal to the current U.S. Supreme Court’s view of federal agencies’ authority, especially in light of the court’s 2024 ruling in Loper Bright v. Raimondo. In that case, the court overturned what’s known as the Chevron doctrine. A 1984 Supreme Court ruling had established that courts should defer to executive agencies’ legal interpretations of their governing statutes when the text of the law was ambiguous or left gaps. That deference no longer applies.

As a former EPA appointee who helped write and review dozens of regulations under the Clean Air Act during the Obama and Biden administrations, I find these efforts to prevent the EPA from doing its job of protecting public health and the environment to be alarming. Here are two examples of how the new interpretations are playing out.

Blocking future climate regulations

In February 2026, the EPA rescinded its 2009 endangerment finding, a determination under the Clean Air Act that carbon dioxide and five other greenhouse gases “may reasonably be anticipated to endanger public health or welfare” because they contribute to climate change.

The endangerment finding was the scientific and legal basis for EPA rules requiring automakers, power plants and oil and gas operations to cut their greenhouse gas emissions. Erasing it would make it easier for the Trump administration to eliminate greenhouse gas regulations.

Rather than try to challenge the science of climate change, which would be difficult given the growing mountain of evidence, the Trump EPA relied on legal arguments that were intended to dispense forever with the EPA’s ability to regulate greenhouse gas pollutants under the Clean Air Act.

Among the administration’s numerous arguments, two stand out:

First, the Trump EPA says the Clean Air Act should be read to limit the EPA’s authority to regulate air pollution only if its harm to the public is “through local or regional exposure.”

That would mean contributions from U.S. sources to global air pollution, no matter how demonstrable or how much they endanger Americans, are not covered by the Clean Air Act.

Second, the Trump EPA says that reducing greenhouse gas emissions from motor vehicles and engines would be “futile.” It points to global climate modeling that suggest these reductions would not meaningfully reduce the harm to public health and welfare.

What that argument fails to mention is that actions by people around the world to reduce emissions across different sectors add up. Motor vehicle emissions are the No. 1 contributor of U.S. emissions. If this sector is too small to regulate, then nothing is big enough.

Each of these interpretations is contrary to positions that the EPA took in the original endangerment finding, which the D.C. Circuit Court of Appeals upheld in 2012.

Allowing more toxic air pollutants

A second example involves the EPA’s proposal on March 17, 2026, to weaken pollution restrictions on businesses that sterilize medical equipment using ethylene oxide, a known carcinogen.

In that proposal, the EPA is also changing a legal interpretation in a way that would constrain the agency’s ability to protect human health into the future, this time from emissions of toxic air pollutants.

The Clean Air Act, under Section 112, establishes a methodical program for the EPA to regulate industries that emit significant quantities of air pollutants that can cause cancer, birth defects, genetic mutations or neurological harm, or harm reproductive health.

The EPA reviews how facilities control their emissions and sets standards that require all facilities to meet what the best-controlled sources are doing. But Section 112 has an important provision called “residual risk” review: Eight years after the EPA sets the first technology-based standards, it must determine whether the public health risk posed by emissions from the facilities after controls are added is acceptable.

In 2024, the EPA updated its hazardous air pollution rule for facilities that use ethylene oxide to sterilize medical equipment sensitive to steam heat, such as devices containing plastic, rubber or electronic components. Because recent research showed that ethylene oxide posed a much higher risk of cancer than previously thought, the EPA also updated its 2006 residual risk finding and required additional safeguards.

The Trump EPA is now arguing that the agency can assess residual risk only once, even if more recent information shows that the health risk is unacceptably high.

By constraining its own authority, the EPA is withholding standards that would protect thousands of people from a higher risk of cancer. It is also creating a legal precedent that will justify weakening other standards. Those include standards for chemical manufacturing facilities that the Biden EPA updated in 2024 through residual risk review.

That precedent would also prohibit the EPA in the future from taking into account new information about the health effects of any regulated hazardous air pollutant from any type of industry the EPA regulates under Section 112 of the Clean Air Act, including petroleum refineries, chemical manufacturing and paper mills.

Arguing the law

These rules are just two examples of the administration’s “if you don’t have the facts, argue the law” approach.

If the administration’s strategy works, the American public may be living, and dying, with the consequences of these industry-friendly regulations for years to come.

Janet McCabe is a volunteer with the Environmental Protection Network and has held several appointed positions at the United States Environmental Protection Agency. Consistent with the Indiana University Statement of Policy on Institutional Neutrality, the comments contained in this communication are solely my views and are not intended to be construed, and shall not be construed, as the views of Indiana University or comments made on behalf of or by Indiana University.