The Brief

Seventeen years ago, Californians bet on a grand vision of the future. They narrowly approved a $10 billion bond issue to build a high-speed rail line that would zip between San Francisco and Los Angeles in under three hours. This technological marvel would slash emissions, revitalize the state’s Central Valley, and, with some financial help from the feds and private sector, provide the fast, efficient, and convenient travel Asia and Europe have long enjoyed.

State officials promised to deliver this transit utopia by 2020. Instead, costs have more than doubled, little track has been laid, and service isn’t expected to begin before 2030 — and only between Bakersfield and Merced, two cities far from the line’s ultimate destinations.

It’s little wonder the project finds itself in a precarious financial position, fighting political headwinds, and deemed a boondoggle by everyone from federal Transportation Secretary Sean Duffy to Abundance authors Ezra Klein and Derek Thompson.

“In the time California has spent failing to complete its 500-mile high-speed rail system,” they wrote, “China has built more than 23,000 miles of high-speed rail.”

The reasons for this vary with who’s being asked, but people with expertise often cite three fundamental missteps: creating a new agency to lead the effort, failing to secure adequate funding from the start, and choosing a route through California’s agricultural heartland. The state’s strict environmental review process hasn’t helped, either.

Protestors voice their opposition to Transportation Secretary Sean Duffy, who in February went to Union Station in L.A. to call California’s high-speed rail efforts a “boondoggle” and “failed experiment.”

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Rail's challenges

Such struggles are not unique to the Golden State, where support for the project remains strong. Although the private sector venture Brightline has seen some success, publicly funded high-speed rail efforts in Texas, Ohio, Washington, D.C., and beyond have stalled. Regulatory complexity, a political environment that favors cars and highways, and constant funding challenges stymie America’s aspirations even as other countries have spent big on tens of thousands of miles of track. Gov. Gavin Newsom promises to see the nation’s most ambitious rail project through despite recently losing all federal support, but its troubled path underscores the systemic challenges of building big in America.

California has always been a car-crazy place, and by the early 1990s, transportation studies made clear that its highways would not keep pace with the growth to come.

Policymakers saw an answer in bullet trains.

The Legislature established the California High-Speed Rail Authority in 1996 and gave it the tough job of planning, designing, building, and running the system.

Some consider that a mistake because the agency lacked experience managing so big a project and navigating complex bureaucracy. Even some rail supporters concede it would have been better to let the authority provide oversight and leave the heavy lifting to the state Department of Transportation, or CalTrans.

“It’s building a lot of overpasses and right-of-way, which Caltrans does all the time,” said Ethan Elkind, director of the UC Berkeley climate program in its Center for Law, Energy and the Environment.

Without that experience, the authority’s 10 employees relied heavily on consultants like engineering firm WSP, running up expenses.

“We paid WSP and their predecessor more than $800 million in consulting fees,” said Lou Thompson. He chaired the High Speed Rail Peer Review Group, established in 2008 to provide project oversight, from 2012 until 2024. The authority has in recent years eased its reliance on consultants, who reportedly have gone from 70% of its workforce to 45% over the past seven years.

Funding and politics

Once the High-Speed Rail Authority set up shop, work proceeded in fits and starts. Even as it considered routes and started the myriad bureaucratic tasks the project required, political interest waxed and waned with the state’s fiscal health. Skeptics lamented the cost and questioned whether bullet trains would attract enough riders to be worthwhile. But rail advocates, environmentalists, unions, and others kept pushing forward and in 2008 convinced voters to approve Proposition 1A, securing $10 billion to finance construction.

It was never going to be enough — at the time, the cost was pegged at $45 billion, a figure that did not account for inflation — and funding has been a challenge from the start.

Still, the Obama administration saw an opportunity to show that the economy was bouncing back from the Great Recession. The federal American Reinvestment Recovery Act provided $3.5 billion to help get things started. The authority, which had already mapped a route through the Central Valley, soon began grading land, moving utilities, and taking other steps toward construction of the first leg, a 119-mile stretch from Bakersfield to Madera.

Things chugged along until 2013, when a state judge blocked the use of Prop 1A funds, ruling that some of the work did not meet the rules for bond expenditures.

With federal support contingent upon the state’s cash, the federal grants had to be renegotiated — before they expired in 2017.

“We were literally sitting there saying, ‘Well, if we don’t start going, we could lose $700 [million] or $800 million of the federal money,” said Dan Richard, who was the High-Speed Rail Authority’s board chair from 2011 until 2019.

That prompted the agency to do something no one wanted to do: Move forward without having acquired all of the necessary land. So it did.

Then President Donald Trump took office. He seemed interested in what California was attempting to build, having lamented that China and Japan “have fast trains all over the place” while the U.S. relies upon “obsolete technology.” His opinion soured when Gavin Newsom became governor in 2019 and the two sparred over the president’s policies. Trump later canceled nearly $1 billion in federal funds for the rail project.

The Biden administration restored it and provided another $3.1 billion from the Infrastructure Investment and Jobs Act. The infusion was to help build a station in Fresno and acquire trains for testing. Even with the windfall, California remained at least $7 billion short of what it needed for the first short run through the Central Valley. The situation grew worse in July when Trump rescinded the entire amount after the Federal Railroad Administration said it saw no way of covering that shortfall and no path to completion by 2033.

Newsom said the move “reeks of politics," and the state is suing. But the impact goes beyond California by establishing a precedent to cancel projects at will.

“How do you go to your voters and say, ‘Put up the money. We expect 50% federal share,’ without knowing that the next administration could turn around and say, ‘I don’t like that project,’” Richard said.

The High-Speed Rail Authority initially planned to rely upon state, federal, and private sector funding in equal measure, but California has provided 75% of the $14.6 billion spent so far. The authority wrote in a letter to the Railroad Administration that Newsom’s plan to allocate $1 billion, pulled from the state’s cap-and-trade program, toward the project each year for 20 years will be enough to finish the Central Valley segment. The governor also recently signed a bill requiring the authority to update its estimate on the funding gap for that leg of the journey.

With California seemingly on its own, Thompson said the project needs an income stream approaching $5 billion a year to build everything. That is one reason the authority in June asked the private sector and financial institutions to weigh in on the chance of public-private partnerships. Its chief executive, Ian Choudri, said private investors have shown “extreme interest.”

Thompson isn’t buying it.

“My opinion is that that is hot air,” he said. The way he sees it, no one’s going to invest until they can see that there is demand for the rail line.

Politics and permitting

One of the reasons Brightline is held up as an example of how to bring high-speed rail to the United States is its strategy includes building on public land. Part of its 235-mile line between Miami and Orlando stands on land owned by Florida East Coast Railway. The company’s planned run between Las Vegas and L.A. will largely follow Interstate 15.

California could have done the same and built along the 5 Freeway, which bisects the Central Valley, but chose to go through major population centers 20 to 50 miles to the east. That pivotal decision increased the project’s cost and complexity. Following the freeway would have been straighter and flatter, without the elevated track, tunnels, and other infrastructure needed to traverse cities. The route also turned a state effort into a regional development project beset by local politics.

The High-Speed Rail Authority had good intentions, however. It hopes that bringing rail to places like Merced and Bakersfield might entice Silicon Valley and Los Angeles firms to open offices in the Central Valley, which would be a 90-minute ride from their headquarters. It also would boost local economies left behind by the state’s boom — and it has, to some extent. The project has added 11,000 construction jobs to the region. But that exacted its own toll.

“Those economic benefits have been really substantial, so that sort of worked, but it came at potentially the cost of not being able to build the system at all, because by starting it in the Central Valley they’ve basically blown all the money there,” said Elkind of the UC Berkeley Climate Program.

Should the state once again ask voters for money, it would have had a stronger case if initial construction had occurred in major population centers, he said.

The route also created additional hurdles as the project navigated California’s environmental oversight rules. Going through several cities and all that farmland increased the number of stakeholders who had to be consulted, ballooning the environmental review process.

To be fair, the California Environmental Quality Act, or CEQA, has long protected the state’s rich biodiversity. But some rail proponents argue it has been used to stymie progress. High-Speed Rail Authority data shows it has spent more than $765 million on environmental review. Lawsuits stemming from CEQA can be particularly expensive.

“If you have a $100 billion project, and let’s say that interest rates are 3% a year, every year’s delay costs you $3 billion,” Thompson said. “A $50,000 lawsuit can delay you for a year, and so there’s an enormous pressure on you to try to bargain your way out of these kinds of situations.”

California recently loosened CEQA requirements for the rail system’s maintenance facilities and stations, a move Newsom cheered.

“These are very targeted exemptions that will help cut red tape and deliver on California’s vision of high-speed rail without compromising environmental protections,” gubernatorial spokesperson Daniel Villaseñor wrote in an email.

Whether that reform has an impact remains to be seen, because most of the environmental review is already completed.

And regulation was never the project’s biggest problem.

“It just seems like the easy, obvious answer,” said Hana Creger, associate director of climate equity at the Greenlining Institute. “But I think these things are a lot more complex.”

Progress on high-speed rail

Given all of this, it can be easy to lose sight of what progress has been made. The authority is quick to note that 463 miles of the 494-mile system has cleared the environmental review process and is “construction ready.” It also boasts of having laid 70 miles of guideway — meaning track, elevated structures, or other riding surface — and erected 57 structures. All told, the project has created more than 15,500 jobs since its inception.

Despite the challenges, Newsom remains steadfast in his determination to see Californians one day riding the trains they were promised so many years ago. “I want to get it done,” he said in May. “That’s our commitment.”

That will surely resonate with his constituents; recent polling shows 62% of voters believe the state should continue financing the project, though opinions split sharply along partisan lines. Still, experts caution that support isn’t enough. Tangible progress and credible funding streams are essential to maintain momentum.

The High-Speed Rail Authority seems to understand this and is pressing ahead to connect Bakersfield to either Merced or Gilroy.

There’s a lot to do before crews start laying track, but the goal is to finish that run by 2032 and the authority recently opened the bidding process to begin installing track next year.

Looking further ahead, its latest plan, released late last month, calls for extending the line south to Palmdale by 2038, putting it within 80 miles of San Francisco and 40 miles of L.A. at a cost of $87 billion.

“While challenges remain, so too does the potential to deliver a modern transportation system worthy of the state’s ambitions — one that reflects the scale, complexity and promise of California itself,” Choudri wrote in the plan. “Let’s go build it.”

Assuming the project retains its $4 billion federal grants, the project has $29 billion available, with an additional $15 billion from Newsom’s proposal, according to the CHSRA. Thompson said the governor’s proposal, which would set aside $1 billion every year for the project, should keep it alive for the next four years.

Beyond that, it will need an infusion of cash, likely from voters but possibly from a future presidential administration.

“I think the path forward is that they could show some first segment success and then go back to the voters,” Elkind said. “You just got to get through this first era here, and get something built that they can show to the voters.”

Ultimately, California’s high-speed rail is more than a train line; it is a test of the nation’s ability to deliver transformative infrastructure. Its path forward remains uncertain, but every mile of track laid could lead to a turning point — not just for the state, but for the broader goal of building the kind of transportation network other countries take for granted.

Throne, the smart restroom company at dozens of Los Angeles Metro stations, reached a milestone of 1 million uses last week, the company said.

Metro has partnered with Throne to provide public restrooms since 2023, starting with high-tech toilets at three public stations.

In advance of the World Cup, Metro and Throne wanted to expand their presence in Los Angeles. The company completed those installations on June 4, days ahead of L.A.'s first World Cup match on June 12. Now, 64 locations are operating across the Metro system, according to Throne.

Before the partnership, Metro had just a few publicly accessible restrooms across its coverage area.

In a social post marking the occasion, Throne wrote, “Here’s to the next million.”

Sen. Lindsey Graham, R- S.C., died late Saturday night following a "brief and sudden illness," according to a statement released by his office. He was 71.

His office did not immediately reply to a request for information on his cause of death.

Graham served in the House of Representatives from 1995 to 2003, when he succeeded Strom Thurmond in the Senate. He was reelected three times and recently won a primary election as he sought a fifth term.

Graham served in the U.S. military for more than three decades. After graduating from the University of South Carolina's law school, he served as an active duty Air Force lawyer for six years. Graham later served in both the South Carolina Air National Guard and Air Force Reserves and retired from the military in 2015 at the rank of colonel.

Senate Majority Leader John Thune called Graham "a strong advocate for the United States and a strong ally to freedom-loving countries across the globe," in a statement posted on X. "Lindsey fought passionately for the Palmetto State. He was a trusted adviser and colleague to me and many others, and numerous presidents and heads of state have relied on his counsel."

President Trump shared a remembrance on his Truth Social platform: "Senator Lindsey Graham, one of the greatest people and Senators I have ever known, is dead! He was always working, and was a true American Patriot."

His death comes at a difficult moment for the Senate Republican conference, which has struggled with a narrow majority that includes a handful of outgoing members who occasionally break ranks to oppose the president.

Sen. Mitch McConnell, a Kentucky Republican, has missed votes during an apparently ongoing hospitalization for an undisclosed health issue, further narrowing the margins for Thune to pass legislation and confirm executive and judicial branch nominees.

Legislative legacy

During his near-quarter century in the Senate, Graham served as chair of two key committees and was instrumental in enacting Trump's policy and staffing priorities.

As chair of the Judiciary Committee during much of Trump's first term, Graham oversaw the confirmation of Justice Amy Coney Barrett to the Supreme Court and of scores of federal judges.

Last year as head of the budget committee, Graham shepherded the president's landmark tax package, the One Big Beautiful Bill Act, to passage despite unanimous Democratic opposition and thorny negotiations with his Republican colleagues.

An adaptable and sometimes controversial deal-maker, Graham was the last surviving member of an influential group of Senate defense hawks known as "the three amigos," alongside the late Sens. John McCain, R-Ariz., and Joe Lieberman, a Connecticut Democrat-turned-Independent. The group was a fixture of congressional delegations to conflict zones.

Graham was among the most vocal supporters of the U.S.-Israeli military campaign against Iran.

"Israel has lost one of its greatest friends. America has lost a great patriot. I have lost a beloved friend," Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu said in a statement posted to X. "Our hearts are with Lindsey's family and with the American people at this difficult time."

Graham also sought the Republican presidential nomination in 2016 and staked a lane as a fierce critic of Donald Trump. In a 2015 CNN interview, Graham referred to then-candidate Trump as "a race-baiting, xenophobic religious bigot" who doesn't represent the views of the Republican Party.

In the decade since Trump's victory, though, Graham has become one of the president's staunchest advocates. A longtime friend and ally of McCain, Graham attributed his transformation to a sense of patriotic duty.

"I am not going to give up on the idea of working with this president. The best way I can honor John McCain is help my country," he told CBS News in 2018.

Sen. Lindsey Graham, R-S.C. (left) gestures as President Trump speaks with reporters while in flight on Air Force One as they were returning to Joint Base Andrews, Md., on Jan. 4.

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A frequent Trump golf companion, Graham hewed closely to the president in his recent Senate primary election — his campaign website touts the president's "Complete and Total Endorsement."

Graham was born in Central, S.C., in 1955 and lived with his family in a single room behind their liquor store, restaurant and pool hall, according to his campaign biography. His parents died while Graham was still in school. After their death, Graham became the primary caretaker of his younger sister, Darline, whom he eventually legally adopted.

In a statement on the social media platform X, South Carolina Gov. Henry McMaster described Graham as "irreplaceable," adding, "We shall not see his likes again."

McMaster, a Republican, will appoint a successor to serve the remainder of Graham's term. A replacement Republican nominee for this fall's general election race will be determined by a special election in August.

NPR's Brian Mann and Claudia Grisales contributed to this report.
Copyright 2026 NPR

A program that helps connect schools and libraries to the internet at discounted rates is under review by the Federal Communications Commission. Educators and advocates are bracing for the funding to shrink or be eliminated.

The so-called E-Rate program, created in the 1990s, has considerable bipartisan support. The agency's recent focus on the program has left educators, including David Thurston, on edge.

Thurston oversees technology for the 33 school districts nested inside San Bernardino County. The area covers more than 20,000 square miles of Southern California: "We have mountain regions, far-flung desert regions, and then our urban and suburban areas. We're a really diverse county," Thurston says.

The county already built the infrastructure to get internet access from the edge of Los Angeles all the way to the state's eastern border, but the spending doesn't end once the fiber-optic cables are installed. Internet access bills come monthly.

"There's no doing without," he says. School districts "are gonna have to pick up the costs."

For San Bernardino districts, that's tens of thousands of dollars every month.

"Those are ongoing, essentially, utility costs," he says. "That's what E-Rate pays for."

A 'healthy' program 

E-Rate has had a notable impact since its founding. It was created by Congress in 1996, when only 14% of schools and libraries could access the internet. That number is now near 100%. The FCC has overseen the program through both Democratic and Republican administrations, so when the agency announced a full review of the program in late June, some were confused.

"By its own data and its own measurement, the program is healthy," Thurston says. "The program is doing what it needs to and is important."

Others saw this coming. The Project 2025 blueprint singled out federal broadband policy as a target for cutting agency spending.

Current FCC Chairman Brendan Carr helped write that chapter of the document, compiled by the conservative Heritage Foundation, which was meant to guide the second Trump administration.

Less predictable was the chairman's reasoning for reviewing the program: kids getting too much screen time. In the now-approved notice of proposed rulemaking, the FCC calls for a review "to better protect children when using E-Rate-funded networks, including to limit screen time."

His prepared statement at the commission's June hearing focused heavily on the dangers of screen time for kids and the growing body of research around it.

Since January, states including Alabama, Tennessee, Utah and Virginia have passed some form of legislation that calls for reevaluating technology's role in teaching and testing, and more than 10 other states are considering similar restrictions. The Los Angeles Unified School District, the second-largest in the country, recently approved a policy to limit screen time for its students.

Some advocates for limiting screen time at school say gutting E-Rate funding isn't the way to reduce how much time kids are spending on devices.

"We believe there are ways of strengthening school policies to promote more limited and privacy-protecting use of EdTech without taking away critical E-Rate funding," said Josh Golin, executive director at Fairplay, a nonprofit focused on digital safety for kids, in a statement to NPR.

Although states and districts are searching for ways to limit screen time, few — if any — are looking to operate without the internet altogether. Many schools rely on internet-based systems to track attendance, monitor school bus routes and give tests required by their state. According to the National Center for Education Statistics, 48 states now have some kind of online component with exams.

Bob Bocher, a senior fellow with the American Library Association (ALA), says that because the program is written into the Telecommunications Act of 1996, the FCC likely cannot fully eliminate it. And last year, the Supreme Court ruled that the Universal Service Fund, which collects the money that schools and libraries in turn use to lower internet costs, is constitutional.

But the FCC could change the way the E-Rate program is run to make it more complicated, so the ALA is still worried.

Bocher, who helped work on the original law back in the '90s, worries the program could become so onerous it drives schools and libraries away by design.

"It's like death by a thousand cuts," he says, "death by a thousand rules and regulations."

Keeping up with the rest of the world

While internet access has expanded significantly since 1996, internet pricing and options haven't changed the way Bocher or his contemporaries expected.

"A common assumption that a lot of people had [was] … competition will evolve," he says. "And then drive down the price."

In cities, this may be true, but for many rural and remote areas, competition for internet service providers, or ISPs, is nonexistent.

"In rural Alaska, we don't have numerous options," says Patrick Mayer, superintendent for the remote Alaska Gateway School District. "We have one provider."

His district, where some students rely on planes to get to school in the winter months, has just under 400 students. Still, the district spends more than half a million dollars per year to ensure it has internet access at its six schools. The price tag is high, but the connection is what allows them to keep up with the rest of the world.

"It means the difference between having a school in the 21st century," Mayer says, "or a school in the 20th century."

The expansion of connectivity in his district allows students to take dual-enrollment courses online with a local college and access virtual speech and occupational therapy.

"To backfill that funding," he says, "would be very, very difficult."

He imagines there would be no way around cutting down on staff and student services to find money to pay the district's entire internet bill. For now, he's focused on making some noise.

Once the FCC officially publishes notice of its planned review, the public can comment for 60 days. After that, there will be a reply comment period of 30 days, followed by a full review of all of that input by the agency. The process can take a long time, but Mayer and other advocates are already working to draw attention to the issue.

He spent a few days this month in Washington, D.C., to meet with legislators about the importance of keeping Alaska's students connected.

A park is a city’s heart and soul. At its highest calling, it’s a community’s conscience.

Such is the case with Ascot Hills Park, 93 acres of hiking paths and native habitats built 20 years ago in the Eastside neighborhood of El Sereno, thanks to a retired civil engineer and residents who wanted the land to return to nature — and to the community.

"There was nothing there," said Val Marquez, one of those residents, who's lived in El Sereno for more than 50 years. "It was just hillsides, fenced off for the most part."

Ascot Hills Park took 20 years to build.

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Ascot Hills Park.

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Today, dirt trails are molded into the hills. Some dip down to a lush canyon of native trees and shrubs fed by a small stream.

Others take you higher — way higher.

“On a foggy morning, you can go to the east ridge and you're above the clouds,” said Raymond Rios, another early resident behind the efforts. “Or you can go on a beautiful evening to the west ridge and look at what the Lord painted in the sky.”

View of downtown L.A. from Ascot Hills Park.

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Back to nature

The idea of a park came up as early as 1930 but never came to pass.

In the 1990s, Jerry Schneider was getting a master's degree in landscape architecture, a passion of his after retiring as a civil engineer. His thesis fieldwork took him to El Sereno. He and his colleague saw an ideal site in its dormant hillsides — a place to turn natural landscapes into hands-on classrooms for students from two nearby high schools.

"The area was the subject of a lot of political ideas and proposals that did not resonate with me or a lot of the community," Schneider said. Those ideas included a sports complex, proposed in 2000, that would have leveled the hills.

Jerry Schneider at Ascot Hills Park, with the amphitheater in the background.

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Jerry Schneider at Ascot Hills.

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At a community hearing attended by Antonio Villaraigosa — who went on to represent District 14 on the City Council and later became mayor — Schneider remembered, "We lined up all the students and science teachers and others and we all basically told Antonio the neighborhood wants an open space. In fact, nature — it could be the main theme of the park."

How to build a park

Ascot Hills Park.

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Money came through Proposition 40, a 2002 parks bond, and a lease was hammered out between LADWP — which has owned the site for over a century for water storage — and the Department of Recreation and Parks.

"Nothing happens by itself,” said Schneider, who lives in Mount Washington, of importance of Villaraigosa's buy-in.  "He was key because we needed political support."

The park opened in 2006 with little more than a gravel driveway and a few rocks to sit on — what old-timers call Phase 1.

Raymond Rios helped build Ascot Hills Park.

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Val Marquez helped build Ascot Hills Park. Later, he built the El Sereno Arroyo Playground, where he is at.

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"We were ready to have a ribbon-cutting and we were just waiting for the state to pay for the bill, basically," Marquez said. "And they came back and said, 'Where's the bathroom? You forgot the bathroom.'"

The full park — amphitheater, benches, picnic tables, a restored stream, new trails — didn't open until 2011, delayed three years by the Great Recession.

"Jerry [Schneider] made sure that it stayed as a natural habitat," Marquez said. "If it wasn't for him, that could've been a development. That could've been a regular park with soccer fields."

Slow, steady work

Today, the 86-year-old Schneider runs the park's monthly volunteering program and can still be found at Ascot a few times each week, pulling out weeds and checking in on the native plants and trees planted by volunteers over the last two decades. Students from Wilson High drop in to help out routinely for class credit.

Demian Willette chairs the park's volunteer advisory board. He is also conducting research on urban habitat restoration at Ascot.

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Since 2024, an experiment to grow a micro-forest of California natives has been underway over a 10,000-square-foot plot. It's thriving, despite minimal watering and upkeep, proving there's a cost-efficient way to restore habitat anywhere in this city.

"After two years, it's self-sufficient," said Demian Willette, a Loyola Marymount University biology professor who is leading the research. "You plant it, you let it go. You let nature take over."

Willette also chairs Ascot's volunteer-run Park Advisory Board, part of a new generation of stewards that include Lluvia Arras, who remembered what Schneider said when she first started to volunteer.

"He reminded me that it's slow, steady work," Arras said. "He's like, 'One day you're gonna look back and you're gonna see the progress and feel proud.'"

Lluvia Arras is among a new generation of volunteer park leaders at Ascot.

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Their advocacy didn't stop at Ascot. Marquez, an original Park Advisory Board member, went on to build the El Sereno Arroyo Playground in 2012, informed by his experience at Ascot.

Rios, the current secretary, is active at neighboring Hazard Park. In the mid-2010s he worked with residents to beat back a USC proposal to improve its Health Sciences campus that would take away parkland.

"Not only are we park advocates," Rios said. "We're community advocates."

They are one and the same thing.