Lots of people confused by this claim, and with good reason—the data Yglesias used came from a study that estimated population once a century. His chart, and particularly his tweet, doesn't reflect that.
So yes, London was probably the biggest city in the world in 1900, but no, that doesn't mean it was the biggest from 1900 to 2000, or that Tokyo "suddenly" took over that year.
London was apparently the biggest city on earth from the early 1800s to the early 1900s, but it lost that title to New York, not Tokyo.
("What was the biggest city in the world on X date, and how big was it" is a subject I've become fascinated by since I started teaching both halves of world history a decade ago—it's a great way to start thinking about both individual experience and massive historical change.)
(Also, I haven't looked in detail, but I don't think it's accurate to say that all—or nearly all—of the cities on his list were imperial capitals. And of course "empire" is doing a lot of work there—Tokyo is certainly the capital of a global power.)
The below is true, and it's part of why I didn't weigh in on whether Tokyo is biggest now—that's to a large extent a definitional issue. BUT...
"What are the actual boundaries of a city" is a much more complicated question now than it was at just about any time in the historical past.
For a long time, for a lot of cities, the answer to "what are its actual boundaries" was "um, the walls?"
But even after that, for a long time—well into the industrial revolution—just about everyone who lived in a city also worked in that city, and vice versa, and most people walked to work. So cities tended to be dense and fairly compact, without a lot of blurriness at the edges.
Trains and buses and subways and cars are one really big reason why it's so complicated to say how big a city is now, and massive regional density is another—in the last while, lots of cities have expanded so much that they only end where another city starts.
So in 2022, "what's the biggest city on he planet?" is in large part a definitional question. For most of human history it was largely an empirical question—the problem in answering it was more gathering and interpreting data than deciding what counts as part of a city.
(Actual historians of old-timey times may feel free to insert additional handwaving into any or all of the above tweets as needed to render them accurate.)
This is not wrong at all. But it's also a good reason to (1) be less gnomic, and (2) not put your gnomic pronouncements in tweets and your actual arguments behind a paywall.
Everything sucks, nothing's getting better, and it increasingly feels to many people like nothing CAN get better. So OF COURSE if you ask people "how are you doing?" questions they're going to respond in tones of despair.
(To put it another way, if you click through to @Nate_Cohn's thread, I think he's got it mostly right, though I'd underscore existential despair more than he does.)
I also think Cohn is 100% right to say that how people respond to questions about the economy aren't solely, or in many cases even primarily, about how they feel about the economy right now.
This question is grounded in pretended ignorance of the obvious reality that Biden had a list of potential justices available to him well before he won the nomination, and that his people have been refining and tweaking that list on an onging basis over the last year.
The Biden administration is considering all possible nominees. They've been considering all possible nominees since months before he won. Biden's longstanding commitment to putting a Black woman on the Court is not mutually exclusive with a consideration of all possible nominees.
It's just a profundly silly, disingenous, and destructive way of framing the question.
I was just looking up how many times humans have landed craft on the moon since Apollo, and stumbled across this—the first image ever made of the far side.
It literally is, old man.
Someone in replies to Candace Owens' moon-landing-is-a-hoax thread was asking why we'd never gone back since Apollo, and I was curious about the number.
The best, most enduring children's literature often has an anarchic, befuddling formal quality. It appears to embrace the structures of the lesser works that kids are immersed in, and then smashes them for no obvious reason.
Goodnight Moon is my favorite example of this. On its surface, it's a narrator listing the stuff that's in a room, then saying good night to each thing. The soil from which a zillion anodyne board books have sprung.
But hold the lists in Goodnight Moon up against each other, and you discover that they're not parallel at all. They clang and slip and bounce around in ways no modern editor would ever allow.
I see a lot of people say "if you haven't been vaccinated by now, you can't be convinced," but the numbers don't bear that out at all. Hundreds of thousands of Americans are getting their first shot EVERY DAY right now.
A quarter of a million Americans got their first Covid vaccine shot yesterday, and those numbers are consistent with where the stats have been since last summer.
In the first week of December, as the omicron surge hit, something like 4 million Americans got their first shot. But even in the pre-omicron lull, we were averaging well over a million new vaccinatees a week.
Seeing a lot of people assuming that the Trump "National Healing" speech and the EO seizing voting machines were part of the same plot, but it's the opposite. They were artifacts of two competing proposals within the administration. politico.com/news/2022/01/2…
The Executive Order was part of a planned strategy of escalation of the attempt to steal the election. It would have set the wheels in motion for an official process to discredit and repudiate Biden's victory.
But the "Remarks on National Healing" weren't part of that attempt to steal the election. Instead, if you read the speech, you can see it was drafted as part of a plan under which Trump would have repudiated the January 6 attack and conceded the election.