There’s an infamous Slate article from years past that made a compelling case: August is the worst month of the year. The piece was so convincing in its argument that it boldly suggested we should simply abolish August altogether. As we approach another sweltering summer, with political tensions at a fever pitch and an unpredictable administration in power, that suggestion seems less like hyperbole and more like prescient wisdom.
The August Curse Returns
August has always been notorious for chaos. It’s the month when powerful people disappear to their vacation homes, leaving the machinery of government and global affairs in the hands of skeleton crews and summer interns. This annual power vacuum creates a perfect storm of miscommunication, poor decision-making, and unintended consequences. History is littered with August disasters: the start of World War I, the Cuban Missile Crisis escalation, and countless political scandals that emerged when the adults weren’t watching.
This year feels different, though. More volatile. More unpredictable.
A Perfect Storm Brewing
Already, we’re witnessing the Trump Administration engaged in what can only be described as political theater on steroids. From deflecting attention through increasingly outlandish claims to managing various controversies, the administration seems to be throwing everything at the wall to see what sticks. The Epstein files controversy has generated its own media frenzy, and one can’t help but wonder what other distractions might emerge as August approaches.
The question that keeps nagging at political observers is this: just how far might things go? Could we see unprecedented political moves that would have seemed unthinkable just a few years ago? The erosion of traditional norms has accelerated, and presidential immunity—ironically strengthened during the Trump era—creates both protection and potential for abuse.
When Interns Run the World
Perhaps the most unsettling aspect of August is institutional vulnerability. When senators are in the Hamptons, cabinet members are at Martha’s Vineyard, and CEOs are yachting in the Mediterranean, who’s actually minding the store? The answer is often junior staffers and temporary appointees—well-meaning people who may lack the experience or authority to handle genuine crises.
This annual leadership exodus creates a dangerous feedback loop. The very people who should be providing steady guidance and institutional memory are absent precisely when their judgment is most needed. It’s a systemic weakness that hostile actors, both domestic and foreign, have learned to exploit.
The Wildcard Factor
In an era where each news cycle brings fresh surprises, August 2025 feels loaded with potential for the unexpected. Whether it’s dramatic policy announcements, international incidents, or revelations that reshape public discourse, the conditions seem ripe for significant developments.
Some observers even wonder if this could be the month when long-held secrets finally surface. Could we see unprecedented transparency on topics that have remained classified for decades? The possibility, however remote, adds another layer of uncertainty to an already volatile mix.
Preparing for the Unknown
As citizens and observers of American democracy, we find ourselves in the peculiar position of hoping for a boring August while preparing for anything but. The intersection of political polarization, institutional weakness, and the traditional August leadership vacuum creates conditions unlike anything we’ve seen before.
Perhaps the real lesson here is that our democratic institutions weren’t designed for an era of constant crisis and 24/7 news cycles. The quaint notion that government can simply pause for vacation while the world continues to spin seems increasingly anachronistic.
Whether August 2025 will join the ranks of historically significant Augusts remains to be seen. But given the trajectory we’re on, it might be wise to keep our expectations flexible and our attention focused. After all, if history has taught us anything, it’s that August has a way of surprising us when we least expect it.
The only certainty is uncertainty—and that might be the most August thing of all.
