The former Trump campaign chairman’s legal troubles worsened on Friday as the special counsel Robert Mueller’s office formally charged him with obstruction of justice and conspiracy to obstruct justice. Also charged for the first time in the indictment was Konstantin Kilimnik, a Russian political consultant who worked as Manafort’s aide in Ukraine. Kilimnik is the first new defendant to be indicted in the sweeping federal inquiry into Russian electoral meddling since February.

The new charges come less than a week after Mueller accused Manafort of witness tampering and asked a federal court to revoke his bail. In court filings, Mueller alleged that Manafort and an unnamed man identified as “Person A”—later identified as Kilimnik—used encrypted messaging apps to encourage two other witnesses to commit perjury. Those witnesses instead alerted federal investigators to the conversations.

Kilimnik, a 47-year-old translator born in Soviet-era Ukraine, started working with Manafort during the latter’s days as a political consultant working for Moscow-aligned political parties in Kiev. Manafort is currently awaiting trial on charges that he illegally funneled millions of dollars he made in Ukraine back to the United States. In addition, Kilimnik is reportedly under Mueller’s scrutiny for his connections to the GRU, Russia’s military intelligence agency.

It’s notable that Mueller’s new charges also follow weeks of veiled threats and intense criticism from President Donald Trump, including a tweet claiming he could pardon himself. Friday’s charges don’t directly relate to the core inquiry into the Trump campaign’s ties to Moscow or whether the president illegally interfered in the Russia investigation. But they send an unmistakable (and perhaps unintentional) signal from the special counsel: Yes, obstruction of justice is a crime.

Krauthammer, the Washington Post columnist who has been fixture on national policy debates since the 1970s, has written a note explaining that the cancer he had removed last August has returned and doctors have told him he has only a few weeks to live.

Born in New York City in 1950, Krauthammer attended medical school at Harvard and worked as a psychiatrist before becoming involved in politics. He moved to Washington, D.C., in 1978 to take a job directing psychiatric policy for the Carter administration. The following year, he wrote his first article for The New Republic. In 1981, he became editor and writer for our magazine. In that capacity he was one its defining voices in the 1980s.

In the 1970s and early 1980s, Krauthammer was very much a Cold War liberal, in the manner of his hero Senator Henry “Scoop” Jackson. Still, a Democrat Krauthammer worked as a speechwriter for Vice-President Walter Mondale in 1980. But during the the 1980s, the tug of his foreign policy hawkishness pulled Krauthammer to the right.

Krauthammer found a wide audience as an eloquent neo-conservative. He became a writer for Time magazine in 1983 and a columnist for The Washington Post in 1985. His Post columns won him a Pulitzer Prize in 1987.

During the rise of Donald Trump in 2015 and 2016, Krauthammer became increasingly critical of the popular Republican candidate and an outspoken proponent of Never Trump conservatism, supporting Hillary Clinton for the presidency, albeit reluctantly.

“I leave this life with no regrets,” Krauthammer writes in his farewell note. “It was a wonderful life — full and complete with the great loves and great endeavors that make it worth living. I am sad to leave, but I leave with the knowledge that I lived the life that I intended.”

Here is Krauthammer’s reflective piece on civic religion. And here is his provocative and thoughtful 1991 essay on the United States’ role abroad: “The Lonely Superpower.”

First things first: If you are thinking about suicide, dial 1-800-273-TALK (8255) to speak with the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline. You can also text the Crisis Text Line at 741-741 to message with a trained counselor.

At the website Reporting on Suicide, the most prominent sentence on its home page reads: “Suicide is a public health issue.” For this reason, journalists have serious responsibilities when it comes to covering news stories about public figures who have died by suicide. The guidelines for doing so are simple, and every single one has been violated by tabloid (and some legacy) media outlets in recent days while reporting the deaths of Kate Spade and Anthony Bourdain.

The most important responsibility lies in avoiding contagion. The specific details about the death should not be prominent in stories. (Do not, as Page Six originally did with Bourdain, put the method of death in the headline.) Second, do not write about the person who died in the sense that “they had everything going for them.” That romanticizes the death, and it wrongly suggests that suicide isn’t a complex phenomenon that’s driven by multiple factors, including (treatable) psychiatric illness.

This is harder in the case of a celebrity, but an outlet should try not to use a photograph of the person who has died, because doing so inaugurates a tradition of romantic legacy and extra visibility. This encourages contagion, too. There is no one-line explanation, nor is there an adequate one-line moralizing response.

Suggesting that Bourdain is in heaven, while a well-intended remark, makes him seem like a martyr and generally admirable for his action.

It’s vital to provide information about a suicide hotline or counseling options somewhere on the article page. Most outlets that do—and the U.S. media is catching up to the British press in this respect—put the information at the bottom. The statistics on how many readers actually make it the bottom of an article are not encouraging, but that’s not much of an excuse for failing to do so.

The final rule is challenging. “Whenever possible,” the Reporting on Suicide site explains, “present examples of positive outcomes of people in suicidal crisis.” There are plenty of celebrities who have talked about their mental health in recent years. Gabourey Sidibe, for example, has written about thoughts of suicide in her memoir, This is Just My Face. She told People last year, “When it’s too big for me to just turn around on my own, I see a therapist... Fucking do it, it’s worth it!”

In personal tweets, Instagrams, and Facebook posts, it can be harder to know where the lines are. On the one hand, we use these forums to express our feelings, in the moment, and we bond with each other over shared pain. However, there is no line which separates your public social media posts from the “media” writ large. A viral tweet can reach more people than a bad tabloid headline.

In 2016, Romney was one of the most vocal Republican critics of Donald Trump, but now, as he runs for the Senate, has made his peace with his party’s standard bearer. “I think President Trump will be re-nominated by my party easily, and I think he’ll be reelected solidly,” Romney told a group of GOP donors. “I think that not just because of the strong economy and because people are increasingly seeing rising wages, but I think it’s also true because I think our Democrat friends are likely to nominate someone who is really out of the mainstream of American thought and will make it easier for a president who is presiding over a growing economy.”

It is worth recalling severe words Romney used when denouncing Trump in 2016. “I don’t want to see trickle-down racism,” Romney told CNN’s Wolf Blitzer. “I don’t want to see a president of the United States saying things which change the character of the generations of Americans that are following. Presidents have an impact on the nature of our nation, and trickle-down racism, trickle-down bigotry, trickle-down misogyny, all these things are extraordinarily dangerous to the heart and character of America.”

Romney’s warnings of the dangers of “trickle-down racism” have been amply justified in the Trump era, which has seen a spike in hate crimes. But Romney seems no longer to care. He still voices, in muted terms, objection over Trump’s bombastic style but has no problem with the racism and misogyny. In 2016, Romney was the face of Republican resistance to Trump. Now he is the living emblem of capitulation.

President Donald Trump is considering a posthumous pardon of the late boxing legend, who was convicted of draft evasion in 1967 and sentenced to five years in prison. “I’m thinking about Muhammad Ali,” Trump told reporters on Friday before leaving for the G7 summit. “I’m thinking about that very seriously and some others.”

Ali, who died in 2016, never served his prison sentence because he won his case on appeal, with the Supreme Court unanimously overturning his conviction in 1971. Given this fact, Ali attorney Ron Tweel said in a statement later on Friday, “a pardon is unnecessary.”

Trump has been on a clemency kick of late. Earlier this week, he commuted the sentence of Alice Marie Johnson, a 63-year-old grandmother who served 20 years in prison for a nonviolent drug offense, and weeks ago pardoned the late Jack Johnson, the first black heavyweight boxing champion, who was convicted in 1913 for transporting a white woman across state lines. Trump has already pardoned five people, an unusually fast clip for a president for a president who’s just a third of the way through his first term.

Ali paid a heavy cost for conscientiously objecting, as a black Muslim, to serve in the Vietnam War. Trump avoid serving, , too, albeit through legal means. As The New York Times reported in 2016, Trump received five deferments—four for education, and one for bad feet: “But after he graduated from college in the spring of 1968, making him eligible to be drafted and sent to Vietnam, he received a diagnosis that would change his path: bone spurs in his heels. The diagnosis resulted in a coveted 1-Y medical deferment that fall, exempting him from military service...”

Trump told the Times that the spurs were a “temporary,” “minor” medical condition.

The president told reporters this morning that he wants the Group of Seven to go back to being the Group of Eight by readmitting Russia. Russia had been a member until it was suspended as punishment for the annexation of Crimea.

“I have been Russia’s worst nightmare,” Trump said. “If Hillary got in I think Putin is probably going ‘man I wish Hillary won,’ because you see what I do. But, with that being said, Russia should be in this meeting. Why are we having a meeting without Russia being in the meeting?”

The president added: “It may not be politically correct, but we have a world to run. And in the G7, which used to be the G8, they threw Russia out. They should let Russia come back in. Because we should have Russia at the negotiating table.”

Trump’s pro-Russia policy is a poke in the eye to the other G7 nations, which are all (save Italy) opposed to the move. In fact, British Prime Minister Theresa May was planning on using the G7 summit to propose an anti-Russia initiative. According to British Foreign Secretary Boris Johnson, May wants to set up a “rapid response unit to identify Russian malfeasance… whether it’s cyber warfare, assassinations, calling it out and identifying it,”

CNN is reporting that Bourdain was found unresponsive in his hotel room in France by his friend and frequent travel companion Eric Ripert. They were in France to film an episode for Bourdain’s CNN series Parts Unknown. The reported cause of death was suicide.

Bourdain rose to prominence in the early 2000s as the author of Kitchen Confidential, an autobiographical tell-all of the restaurant industry that exposed its seamy underbelly (drugs, sex, parasitic swordfish worms) and inaugurated a wider cultural fascination with the world of professional cookery. He was one of the original celebrity chefs, and could have easily made a fortune hawking cookbooks and hosting culinary battles for the rest of his life.

Instead he became ... a journalist. His original forays into television (A Cook’s Tour, No Reservations) focused on food and travel, and Parts Unknown still featured Bourdain tucking into local fare and drinking copious amounts of alcohol. But he ultimately transformed into one of the best journalists in the business, offering supple portraits of some of the world’s most complex countries, all while bringing his own earthy, sophisticated viewpoint to bear. He’s possibly most famous for the No Reservations episode that chronicled Israel’s 2006 war with Lebanon, which somehow provided more insight than most news outlets despite the fact that Bourdain and his crew were trapped in a luxury hotel. But there were so many more—episodes in Iraq, Israel, and Vietnam come to mind. Most recently, he toured Trump Country and has been at the forefront of bringing the restaurant industry to account for its longstanding culture of sexism and harassment.

We don’t know why Bourdain decided to kill himself. We do know that he struggled with addiction as a young man. We know that the designer Kate Spade killed herself earlier this week, perhaps awakening some latent impulse on Bourdain’s part. And we also know that, despite having what would seem to be the most enviable life in the world, it came with costs. The underlying theme of Patrick Radden Keefe’s great profile of Bourdain, which you should read, is that his fame compromised his connections to the people closest to him—to his partners, to his child. As his former wife Nancy Putkoski said, “I just didn’t anticipate how tricky success would be.”

Earlier this week, David Koch, one half of the ridiculously wealthy Koch Brothers team that has funded so many libertarian and Republicans causes, announced he was stepping down from his leadership role in Koch Industries. The decision was hardly a surprise, since David Koch is 78 years old and has been battling cancer for 24 years. But aside from health issues, there seems to be some personal drama at work. According to a report by Jane Mayer in The New Yorker, older brother Charles Koch, age 82, forced his younger sibling’s withdrawal from leadership in both the company and their extensive dark money network that funds political activity.

“Charles pushed David out,” one Koch associate told Mayer. “It was done with a wink, and a nod, and a nudge.” Another source offered the same story, telling The New Yorker that “Charles had been pushing him out for quite some time. David kept resisting. It was bad. Charles took control.”

This is not the first time fraternal intrigue has divided the family. Frederick Koch, the eldest brother in the family, alleges that after their father died in 1967 Charles tried to use “homosexual blackmail” to force Frederick to sell his shares of the company business. “Charles’ ‘homosexual blackmail’ did not succeed,” Frederick told Mother Jones in 2014, “for the simple reason that I am not homosexual.” (Charles Koch denies these allegations.) Another sibling, Bill, who is David Koch’s twin, has also wrestled for control of the company with both David and Charles.

Of the team of David and Charles Koch, Charles has always been the more cerebral one, living far from the limelight in Wichita, Kansas. He has deeply imbibed libertarian philosophy, which is his chief passion. David, a more multi-faceted figure, has been more diverse in his interests, which include the arts. Now all the vast resources of the two brothers are in the hands of Charles.

The unfolding Koch drama perhaps illustrates the logical endpoint of libertarianism as a philosophy of extreme individualism. After all, what could be be more individualistic than trying to bring a vast fortune and political machine under the control of one man?