Swimming in the Arctic

Here we are almost at the end of this mess of a year. But we are here! And even if it doesn’t seem true sometimes, even if we’re mired in this difficult era, the fact we’re still here is still good news.

A woman with gray hair and a blue-and-black surf outfit lowering herself off a platform into Arctic waters, with a sailor perched on the platform and part of a bright red dingy visible in one corner of the image.

I think I’m telling the people still aboard the boat that the water is very, very cold.

The photo for this post is of me going into the water for a swim off the coast of Franz Josef Land in the High Arctic in 2021. I can’t honestly say that I think most people would enjoy swimming in water that sits on the cusp of freezing. In fact, I wouldn’t say that I myself enjoyed it exactly. But I try to do the things that will give me the knowledge to write the stories I want to tell—in this case another Arctic tale I hope to write eventually. I bank those experiences and pair them with research, hoping to share events people don’t know about or to give readers new ways of thinking about them.

This was also my goal when I went around the world researching One Long Night, my history of concentration camps. And after the 2020 election, I nursed a small hope that the defeat of Trump at the ballot box might let the level of urgency around the global rise of authoritarianism subside a little.

But here we are again, facing down the coming inauguration. There seems to be a need for realistic assessments of where America is at right now that include historical knowledge about how we got here and also concrete things to do in response.

When Jason Sattler reached out to me the day after the election and wanted to start partnering up on a weekly podcast to get the material in the newsletter out to even more people, I decided to go for it. Suddenly, the politics-and-history aspect of my writing and online production became the majority of my workload.

It’s been wonderful to connect with so many new people since starting Degenerate Art in October. And you may not know it (in fact, I’d be surprised if you knew it, because I had to look it up just now), but only 8% of subscribers to Degenerate Art are paying subscribers.

Still, this newsletter work is what feels so urgent to me in this moment.

If what you read here (and what you hear on the podcast) feels urgent or worthwhile to you, too, I encourage you to upgrade to a paid subscription now, so that you’ll have access to all the posts for 2025, and you’ll help support this project as a whole.

It’s important to me to keep the podcast free (and ad-free) for everyone, because it has the potential to reach so many people who need this information but might never think to open a newsletter or one of my books. By supporting Degenerate Art, you’ll make it possible for me to spend time not only writing the newsletter but also putting out podcast. (In case you you missed it, here’s the link to this week’s holiday episode.)

Thank you for your time and attention this year. I hope none of you are swimming in the Arctic—unless that’s your fondest dream. I also wish that you might each have some time off this week to be with people you love. I’ll write one more essay here before the New Year begins, with my usual blend of dark but encouraging thoughts and a few historical reasons for flickers of hope in 2025.

In the meantime, here’s hoping you stay comfortably warm and fed, and help others do the same whenever you can.

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