Offering readers some speculations in 1707, Jonathan Swift observed that it is absurd and ridiculous to imagine that predictions of the future can have any influence on human actions, thoughts, or inclinations, when such prognostications are offered by ill-informed fortune tellers who offer their readers only “nonsense, folly, and impertinence.”
But readers in San Francisco and across the country encounter nonsense, folly and impertinence every day if they read news reports, particularly reports on the activity of those individuals who hold high office and great wealth, and influence events most foolishly.
What follows are some unreliable and unwanted predictions about a few often-watched individuals, and the miscalculations and follies they may commit in the year 2026. If these predictions prove wildly inaccurate, so much the better. I would prefer not to see most of these events occur.
On January 15th, 2026, having heard rumors that a wealth tax will be placed on the California ballot and approved by voters, Mayor Daniel Lurie will announce that he plans to keep San Francisco affordable to billionaires, and offer them sanctuary. Peter Thiel and Larry Page will consider moving to San Francisco instead of fleeing the state.
On the 21st of January, 2026, the President of the United States will declare that one year of serving his country for a second term is enough. Now he will serve only himself, by taking charge of the national treasury and betting it on the future. Critics will call this the epitome of “Casino Capitalism,” he will call it “not sharing the wealth, because that would be socialism.” The members of his party will applaud this new, historic declaration of independence.
On February 2nd, the groundhog Punxsutawney Phil will surface from his burrow in Pennsylvania and announce there will be no Spring this year, only freezing and exceedingly hot weather. He will ask for a blanket and stay in hibernation until 2027.
To compensate for insufficient tax revenues, Lurie will sell City Hall air rights to a developer who plans to build a 100-story structure on the site. “The sky’s the limit,” says the mayor.
On March 15th, the United States army will take over Greenland with a fleet of dog-free, self-driving sleds, only to discover that 80 percent of the country is covered by the Greenland Ice Sheet. Punxsutawney Phil will be blamed for the cold weather.
On April 15th, no taxes will be required of the wealthiest one-percent in America, after Congress condemns the Internal Revenue Service for redistributing wealth (“a well-known socialist practice”) and abolishes its taxation of the rich. The rest of the country is scheduled to have its taxes cut to zero in 2076 as a 300th anniversary gift.
The nation’s new poet laureate, Tiffany Trump, begins her first invocation to Spring with the line: “April is the kindest month, forget what T.S. Eliot said.”
Thiel and Page ask President Trump whether the one percent tax exemption will cover state as well as federal taxes, in which case they wouldn’t have to move to San Francisco. Trump answers that he’s considering a run for governor of California to end taxes there once his term in Washington expires.
June 21st, once known as the first day of summer, sets new records for high temperatures, or would if the National Weather Service still recorded temperatures. Across the country asphalt roads melt, cars and airplanes sink into collapsed pavement, overburdened electric grids fail, air-conditioners prove useless. Dungeness crabs caught offshore near San Francisco turn out to be already boiled.
Donald Trump announces he is moving to Greenland’s ice sheet because he likes the weather there; his takeover of that country is fully vindicated, he says, although he cannot attribute the vindication to “climate change” because that phrase has been banned by executive order.
The San Francisco Giants announce that all future home games will be played inside the newly purchased, enlarged and fully air-conditioned Curran Theatre. “It’s cool,” says pitcher Logan Webb.
July 4th, the 250th Anniversary of American independence is celebrated by a re-opening of the new White House ballroom, formerly in Washington, D.C., now reconstructed over an ice-covered field near the Arctic Circle. Many of the guests at the first ball look like penguins; in fact, many of them are penguins.
On August 20th, ceasefire violations by Israel in Gaza pass the 100,000 count. The newly built Trump Gaza Riviera Hotel announces it will hold a “Miss Mediterranean Sea” contest open to Palestinians as well as Israelis.
Thiel, Page, and Elon Musk announce that they are buying luxury suites on the top floor of the new City Hall Towers, and they are also buying City Hall to insure that San Francisco is governed for and by billionaires, like the rest of the country (except New York City).
September, October, November are full of campaign promises and federal troop occupation of several large cities (though not ours) preceding midterm elections. The results of the election are contested throughout December. Consult this space again next January to learn the final outcome, a very surprising event, than which nothing could be more unexpected. Until then, Happy New Year.
Joel Schechter has written several books on satire. Jonathan Swift’s predictions for 1708 inspired some of these new ones.
