Reconstruction of areas devastated by Hurricane Ian will be a lengthy, difficult, and expensive job – and a test of leadership at all levels of American government, from the White House to statehouses and county seats.

Hurricane relief is a task that can define top officials’ tenures. In 2005 halting responses to Hurricane Katrina put President George W. Bush, Louisiana Gov. Kathleen Blanco, and New Orleans Mayor Ray Nagin under intense scrutiny. In 2012, a hands-on approach to recovery from Superstorm Sandy made New Jersey Gov. Chris Christie the most popular Republican in the country, for a time.

In part, that response is because people need help, not words, following natural disasters. They are looking for effective action, not partisan point-scoring.

“People right now are scared. ... People have lost everything,” says Jared Moskowitz, former director of Florida’s Division of Emergency Management. “You want to instill confidence. Even though they can’t see it now, they’ll build back and will be more resilient.”

“Herculean effort”

After moving across Florida, the storm made landfall again on Friday on the coast of South Carolina as a Category 1 hurricane. It leaves behind a massive trail of destruction, with more than 2 million lacking electricity, hundreds of thousands displaced, and an estimated tens of thousands having lost their homes. An unknown number have lost lives.

Alex Brandon/AP

A firefighter examines a large tree across a road as the effects from Hurricane Ian are felt, Sept. 30, 2022, in Charleston, South Carolina.

Video of the hardest-hit Florida areas, around Fort Myers Beach, Cape Coral, and Sanibel and Captiva islands, showed boats strewn about coastal roads, flipped mobile homes, and piles of wooden sticks that were once buildings. 

The causeway out to Sanibel Island was shattered by storm surge and impassable. Remaining island residents were evacuated Friday by helicopter.

Rescue crews on the mainland boated and waded down flooded streets to reach survivors. Florida Gov. Ron DeSantis said Friday that in the hardest-hit areas, rescuers went door to door to over 3,000 homes.

“There’s really been a herculean effort,” said Governor DeSantis at a Tallahassee news conference.

In Washington the White House said that President Joe Biden had issued disaster declarations for Florida and South Carolina to expedite federal assistance. Two thousand federal personnel were already in place in Florida, President Biden said at a Washington appearance, including Deanne Criswell, administrator of the Federal Emergency Management Agency (FEMA).

Dozens of Coast Guard boats and helicopters are participating in search operations. Coast Guard aircraft rescued 80 people along the southwest Florida coast on Friday, with some plucked from rooftops.

“This is not just a crisis for Florida. This is an American crisis,” said President Biden.

Learning to respond more quickly

Mr. Moskowitz toured the center of destruction in Florida on Friday by air and says he saw widespread destruction, much of which will need to be rebuilt. 

The response begins with health and safety efforts to find and rescue survivors and provide food, water, shelter, and other necessities. 

That is a big logistical effort, he says. You have to push all sorts of supplies into affected areas, including generators, pumps, and light towers. Officials will need to erect base camps with showers, laundry facilities, and dining rooms, just so all those coming in to help, from contractors to volunteers, have a place to stay.

“Thinking about the rebuild, the recovery effort – that is coming, and that is going to be a monumental task,” says Mr. Moskowitz, who is running for Congress in Florida’s 23rd District as a Democrat. “But for right now and for the foreseeable future, we are in the response phase.”

Florida has a lot of experience in running these sorts of operations, he says. The current head of the state Division of Emergency Management is Kevin Guthrie, Mr. Moskowitz’s former deputy.

One thing the state has learned through experience is that it needs to move fast. The process used to be to wait out the storm, assess the damage and possible supplies needed, and then obtain them. Now Florida emergency managers order the basics they are almost certain to need, such as generators and food, in advance. They pre-position supplies.

That shaves precious time off response.

Meanwhile, the media should not be surprised that President Biden and Governor DeSantis, political opponents who might even face each other in the 2024 election, are working together in the wake of the hurricane, says Mr. Moskowitz. The pair worked together after a previous state disaster, the collapse last year of a condominium building in the Miami suburb of Surfside.

“That’s what happens when you have these catastrophic events. It has to work that way. Emergency management has to be nonpartisan,” he says.

How leaders can lose trust

Emergency management also needs to be effective, given the political and human stakes.

History shows what happens when politicians fumble the response to natural disasters. During the Depression, the Franklin D. Roosevelt administration sent hundreds of jobless veterans to Florida to help build a railway to the Keys. When a hurricane loomed in 1935, officials waffled on evacuating the men, and hundreds died. Administration officials wrestled with political blowback for months.

In 1992 Hurricane Andrew left hundreds of thousands homeless in Florida and Louisiana, and President George H.W. Bush was criticized for moving food, rescue personnel, and other essentials too slowly. Two months later, amid voter discontent with the economy, President Bush lost his reelection bid.

After the widespread disaster of the response to Hurricane Katrina, Louisiana’s Democratic Governor Blanco did not bother to run for reelection. She retired from politics thereafter. FEMA Administrator Michael Brown, who appeared unaware days following the hurricane that evacuees were stranded at the New Orleans convention center amid terrible conditions, was fired shortly thereafter.

These events show why political squabbling over hurricane response can be so disastrous on many levels, says John Tures, a political scientist at LaGrange College in LaGrange, Georgia, who has written about the history of hurricane politics.

“There are plenty of other issues that we can fight about on other things. Hurricanes shouldn’t be one of them,” he says.

The primary focus has to be treating Democrats and Republicans the same in hurricane response, Dr. Tures says. So far that seems to be happening after Hurricane Ian.

“Both DeSantis and Biden are showing signs of professionalism, and that’s very encouraging because the images [of the disaster] look terrible,” he says.

Addressing inequity

Going forward, one aspect of the allocation of recovery aid that both the federal and state governments need to keep in mind is equity, says Fernando Tormos-Aponte, assistant professor of sociology at the University of Pittsburgh.

According to his research, disadvantaged communities suffer more from natural disasters and often have to wait longer for services like power and water to resume. In poorer communities, more residents lack the funds to evacuate in the first place. They have less access to health care even in normal times.

Some of the areas affected by Ian, such as Orlando, are highly unequal. Authorities should keep that in mind when dispatching power crews, water trucks, or other key assets, Dr. Tormos-Aponte says.

“We know that if they are prioritized, we can save lives,” he says.

Editor’s note: This story has been updated to correct the spelling of Fernando Tormos-Aponte’s name.

The tragedy of a capsized boat of asylum seekers en route from Lebanon to Italy last Wednesday is reverberating still in Lebanon and the Arab world, with entire communities in mourning.

One hundred men, women, and children – Lebanese, Syrian, and Palestinian – drowned, one of the deadliest boat disasters in the Eastern Mediterranean.

It highlighted not only the widespread desperation in a country whose capital, Beirut, was once coined the “Paris of the Middle East,” but the lack of legal pathways for people to emigrate, and the mortal dangers facing those who try.

And yet Beirut vendor Mohamed, like many, is eager to take the same route.

“It is a tragedy and a catastrophe that has touched every one of us,” the 29-year-old says via WhatsApp. “But the only chance for a dignified life is to leave Lebanon. Rather than expecting the best and hoping their boat doesn’t sink, people will now be expecting the worst and hoping their boat is the one that succeeds.”

Stark and difficult choices face many in Lebanon: settling for relative safety in a country with limited electricity, hyperinflation, little income, and no prospects for relief – or risking their lives for dignity and a living wage.

For other Lebanese with their backs to the wall, their options include risking their freedom to take back their money by force.

Without a functioning state, amid political paralysis and as the international community looks to other crises, residents in Lebanon say they have been left to find their own pathways – and sacrifices – to a secure life.

Wartime hardships

Lebanon’s economic implosion began in late 2019 because of government mismanagement and insolvency, which has only spiraled further.

The economy has contracted 60%, currency has lost more than 90% of its value against the U.S. dollar, and banks do not allow people to withdraw from their own accounts. If they do, it is for pennies on the dollar. Hunger is on the rise; half of Lebanese children rely on humanitarian aid.

“Imagine a situation where you have lost your savings and pension. If you do still have a job, your salary is worth nothing, you can’t provide for your children or afford transportation,” says Halim Shebaya, Beirut-based analyst and non-resident fellow at the Arab Center Washington DC.

“The effects of the crisis since 2019 on society can be compared in some aspects to wartime. It has been downright cruel and has showed no mercy,” he adds.

The economic pain is being acutely felt among Lebanon’s most vulnerable communities, who make up the bulk of those trying unsafe sea escapes. Attempts to flee Lebanon by sea are up 72% in 2022 from 2021, according to the United Nations. 

Among them are 500,000 Palestinian refugees who have lived in Lebanon for generations. They have long been denied full rights, largely working in the informal labor sector due to government restrictions, and were skirting the poverty line even before the country’s economic collapse.

Today, 90% of Palestinians in Lebanon are living in poverty and 65% are unemployed, according to UNRWA, the U.N. organization for Palestinian refugees. Of those employed, only 10% were on a written contract.

The Nahr al-Bared camp in northwestern Lebanon, one of 12 Palestinian refugee camps in the country and home to many of the victims of last week’s capsizing, is in mourning.

There, many camp residents say they now rely on a daily meal of potatoes, or beans and a few vegetables when they can afford them. Many say they skip meals. Residents collect scrap metal and clean homes for income.

Those with more stable income worked in restaurants and the service industry, which have been battered by the national economic crisis. This has led many to sell their cars and belongings to gather the $4,000 to $6,000 fees charged by smugglers for boat passage to Europe.

“For young men and women in the camp, fleeing outside Lebanon has become the only path to ensure their future,” says one Nahr al-Bared resident via Facebook, who preferred not to be named.

“Most camp residents are now struggling to secure their daily food, and that is a dangerous indicator for the days ahead,” the resident says. “This is why they prefer to risk dying at sea to living this life.”

Cuts in assistance

Funding gaps dating from the pandemic have widened with donor attention on Ukraine, which has impacted U.N. agencies’ ability to support the most vulnerable in Lebanon.

A monthly multipurpose cash assistance provided by UNRWA to vulnerable Palestinian refugees in Lebanon was cut in December 2021 from $100 per family to $50.

“Palestine refugees in Lebanon feel they have nothing left to lose and that if they can make it to the other side, they have higher chances of a more dignified life,” says Huda Samra, UNRWA’s spokesperson in Lebanon.

“If Palestinian refugees had a lifeline of food, access to health care, minimal cash assistance, or a decent job, they might not rush out to the sea. But the reality is there are very, very few prospects for a Palestinian refugee in Lebanon these days,” Ms. Samra says.

Bilal Hussein/AP

Suheila Kusheir (center) leaves a Blom Bank branch after she received $1,000 in cash from her deposit, in Beirut, Sept. 16, 2022. She reportedly entered with another depositor who took hostages in an effort to access his account amid a wave of bank break-ins.

There are also limited options for the estimated 1.5 million Syrians in Lebanon, 90% of whom live in “extreme poverty,” according to the U.N. High Commissioner for Refugees.

Unless it fills a $15 million funding gap, UNHCR will be forced to cut assistance for 160,000 refugee families as of October.

“The increased onward movement from Lebanon on such risky journeys is a clear illustration of the desperation that is setting in amongst refugees in Lebanon,” Rula Amin, spokesperson for UNHCR’s Middle East North Africa office, writes via email.

On Facebook pages, Syrians in Lebanon ask each other whether refugee resettlement processes have stopped, about areas where they can erect tents at cheaper rates, and whether a boat ride or a return to Syria is a viable option.

“We live in a tent, we are not allowed to hang curtains, install a shower or a heater, we have no internet connection,” Jenny, a mother of five, says of her tent outside Beirut. “The smallest, cheapest apartment is $80 per month, and the international community still gives us assistance in Lebanese pounds.”

“By God almighty, those who died in the ocean saved themselves from this life.”

Taking matters into their own hands

Mired in an economic implosion that the World Bank describes as “orchestrated by the country’s elite,” who bankrupted the country with the misappropriation of public funds, some Lebanese citizens are increasingly taking matters into their own hands.

Sali Hafiz, a 28-year-old who took part in the youth-led 2019 democratic protest movement to oust the sectarian political class, said she came under pressure when her sister sought costly cancer treatment to save her life.  

After being refused by bank staff to access her life savings, she hatched a plan: a bank heist to withdraw money from her own account.

On Sept. 14, armed with a handgun water pistol she took from her young nephew, Ms. Hafiz stormed the bank and demanded a withdrawal.

She walked out with $13,000 of the $20,000 in her account, enough for travel expenses and a month of treatment for her sister.

Ms. Hafiz is now living a life on the run from the authorities, while her sister traveled and began treatment.

“We are in the country of mafias. If you are not a wolf, the wolves will eat you,” Ms. Hafiz told Reuters about her decision-making while in hiding last week. The Monitor was unable to reach her.

The “heist” captured the imagination of Lebanese and inspired six copycat heists at other banks, forcing Lebanese banks to close for a week.

“Ordinary people who would never see themselves doing something illegal now see they have to go into the bank and try to get their money back by force,” says Mr. Shebaya, the analyst.

“If the situation continues without any serious reform or corrective measures by the government,” he warns, “it will not be surprising to see more people resort to such irregular measures.”

As Lebanon’s members of Parliament voted Thursday for a new president to replace the outgoing Michel Aoun, whose mandate ends in October, Lebanon’s social media were replete with messages: “Sali Hafiz for president.”

The vote did not result in a new president; blank ballots came out on top in the tally, with 63 out of 122 votes.

Some in Lebanon saw a clear metaphor.

“There is no plan, there is no functioning government, no one is coming to help us, we are on our own,” says Mohamed, the Beirut vendor. “We have to make our own decisions and our own plans to survive.”

This year’s election season in Brazil has been marked by a series of small but exceptional events that go a long way in explaining the divisions heaving Brazil as it heads to the polls Sunday. The ballot pits far-right incumbent Jair Bolsonaro, who has been described as the Trump of South America, against leftist former President Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva, who was a darling of Latin America progressives before he served jail time.

This month alone, a left-wing candidate for Congress canvassing for votes was threatened by an armed man with opposing political views; some 10 pollsters across eight states were followed and harassed after inquiring about voter intentions; and a state deputy from Mr. Bolsonaro’s ruling party physically harassed a well-known journalist and proudly published the video on social media.

While these aggressions were reported to come from Mr. Bolsonaro’s supporters, the animosity is widespread, and highlights the deep societal distrust that has flourished over the past four years under the leadership of the former army captain. These incidents also underscore some of the reasons Brazilians are polling in favor of the former president, known simply as Lula, despite his fall from grace after two back-to-back terms a decade ago.

Four years after taking a gamble on the populist, divisive approach of Mr. Bolsonaro, many feel he has not delivered the transformation they’d hoped for their country, and they now look set to elect Lula, in part driven by nostalgia for an era flush with commodity cash and global regard for the nation as a rising star.

“Four years ago, people were embarrassed to say they supported the PT,” says Samara Castro, a lawyer who studies political disinformation, referring to Lula’s Workers’ Party. “Now, the PT, and principally Lula, are able to transmit a sense of hope of a more democratic future.”

Seeking credibility

The Oct. 2 ballot is one of the most bitter in decades, and themes of violence and civility are central to the polarization. The worries aren’t all new in a country with 2.7% of the world’s population and 20% of its homicides. But they are particularly visible in an election cycle that, from the very start, was dominated by an anger channeled by Mr. Bolsonaro into his upstart campaign.

In fact, his road to the presidency was marked, and in some ways helped, by his intemperate outbursts. Even before winning in 2018, he joked about strafing Workers’ Party members with a machine gun, compared Afro-Brazilians to livestock, and told one congresswoman she didn’t deserve to be raped – because she wasn’t good looking.

When Brazilians went to the polls in 2018, enough were prepared to overlook those obloquies, or found his lack of political correctness refreshing, in large part because Mr. Bolsonaro was not Lula (who wasn’t even on the ballot). Anger with Lula, who served from 2003 to 2010, and his Workers’ Party, were so strong that Mr. Bolsonaro beat his PT opponent in a runoff with 55% of the vote.

Anger among Brazilians has not abated in the years since, but its focus has shifted. Four years ago, Brazilians were outraged at the Car Wash operation, a massive corruption investigation that led to prison sentences for Lula and other members of the political and business elite. Mass protests were regular events, Lula’s protégé was impeached, and citizens demanded change.

But when judges were shown to have colluded with prosecutors to prejudice the former president, he was released from prison. The lead judge in the case was picked by Mr. Bolsonaro to be his justice minister, causing further division. Lula’s claims of innocence were seen in a fresh light, and people began to question whether Mr. Bolsonaro was really the clean outsider running against a corrupt establishment, as he claimed.

Over the past four years, “the Car Wash operation was totally discredited,” says Ms. Castro. “And then there was a string of scandals involving the Bolsonaro government and his family. Lula was released, which meant that he gained in credibility.”

Eraldo Peres/AP

A demonstrator dressed in the colors of the Brazilian flag performs in front of a street vendor's towels for sale featuring Brazilian presidential candidates, current President Jair Bolsonaro (center) and former President Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva, in Brasília, Brazil, Sept. 27, 2022.

“What is at stake”

Hope has long been a central plank of Lula’s political thinking. A former factory worker who lost three presidential elections in a row before finally winning in 2002, he famously declared that victory proved “hope had overcome fear.”

For optimists – amid a struggling economy, pandemic mismanagement that claimed more than 685,000 Brazilian lives, and Mr. Bolsonaro’s shocking and sometimes vulgar speaking style – Lula is an easy sell. He’s painted himself as someone who can return competence and decency to the highest office.

“You are going to have to make a decision,” he said in a last-minute campaign video. “What Brazil do you want? A Brazil of love or a Brazil of hate? A Brazil of goodness or a Brazil of nastiness? A Brazil of truth or a Brazil of lies? The choice is in your hands.”

Polls give him a double-digit lead over Mr. Bolsonaro. If no candidate wins a majority on Sunday, there will be a runoff on Oct. 30.

It’s not just a tough economy and divided society at home that have Brazilians seeking change this election. Many feel the nation’s international reputation has been tarnished over the past four years.

While for more than a decade Brazil was seen as a rising leader on the world stage, emphasizing South-South cooperation, hosting the World Cup and the Olympic Games, and serving as a poster child for the so-called BRICS emerging economies, Mr. Bolsonaro took a step back from traditional diplomacy. He’s insulted the wife of French President Emmanuel Macron, suggested U.S. movie star and philanthropist Leonardo DiCaprio funded arson attacks in the Amazon, waited six weeks to congratulate Joe Biden on his presidential victory in 2020, and flew to Moscow to meet with President Vladimir Putin the week before Russia invaded Ukraine.

Under Mr. Bolsonaro’s watch, deforestation in the Amazon has shot up, hitting a record high in the first half of 2022. He cut funding for key government agencies, encouraging illegal loggers, ranchers, and miners to pour into the region. And invasions of Indigenous land have almost tripled since he came to power.

Mr. Bolsonaro has also encouraged Brazilians to arm themselves, and the number of weapons in circulation has shot up 474% since 2018, according to the Brazilian Forum on Public Safety.

Divisions have grown so intense between Mr. Bolsonaro’s most ardent supporters, estimated at a quarter to a third of the population, and those who oppose him that many candidates feel they can’t go out and meet voters for fear of political violence.

Mr. Bolsonaro’s backers attacked Lula’s rallies, twice throwing excrement or crude bombs into the crowd, and in two separate attacks men shouting pro-Bolsonaro slogans shot and killed Workers’ Party voters.

“That is what is at stake,” says Ana Julia Bernardi, a political scientist at the Federal University of Rio Grande do Sul who studies political culture and disinformation. “This election will decide whether people want politics at gunpoint.”

Hope for democracy?

But there’s reason for optimism, says Mônica Sodré, executive director of the Network for Political Action on Sustainability. She sees a growing appreciation for democracy in Brazil.

In 2017, as Mr. Bolsonaro was rising to power, just shy of 20% of Brazilians agreed strongly with the statement “Democracy is better than any other form of government,” according to the Latin America Public Opinion Project at Vanderbilt University. By 2021, that figure rose to 43%. 

“More than 65% [of Brazilians] say arming the population won’t resolve its problems,” said Ms. Sodré, according to a study published by her organization.

Mr. Bolsonaro has repeatedly questioned the integrity of the vote in the lead-up to this weekend’s election, implying that anything short of his own victory will be contested and considered fraud. But according to Ms. Sodré, almost 90% of Brazilians polled by her organization say the winner of the election has to take power in January. She believes respect for institutions is on the rise.

“Despite all the attacks on the integrity of the vote,” she says, “Brazilians still believe in democracy.”

Greg Tull recently pulled aside his commanding officer for an unusual request. The boatswain’s mate asked for an extended period of leave from his Massachusetts Coast Guard station so that he could play with Lego bricks.

Mr. Tull and his brother Brendan are one of 12 teams competing on the Fox reality series “LEGO Masters,” now in its third season. It’s a similar format to “The Great British Baking Show,” but with plastic pieces instead of baking powder. 

Host Will Arnett (the voice of Batman in the Lego movies) challenges the competitors to craft mind-bogglingly complex creations such as dinosaurs, pirate ships, and dogs. “Lego imbues a spirit of play,” says Mr. Tull. “The word in Danish means to play well. ... We take a step back from our standard adult levels of responsibility. And we allow ourselves to be somewhat like a child again.”

Lego sets aren’t just for kids anymore, if they ever were. Last year, Lego launched an “adults welcome” advertising campaign. Two years ago, the Danish company introduced a line of age 18-plus kits, including a full-scale replica of Thor’s hammer. 

But even before the company began explicitly catering to adults, the number of adult fans had been mushrooming. It exemplifies a broader trend of adults recognizing the importance of play.

Courtesy of FOX

Liz Puleo (left) and Erin Laundry, both from Massachusetts, are contestants on the Fox TV show “LEGO Masters,” now in its third season.

“It can provide a sense of meaning in life,” says Dave Neale, a researcher in England who studies how play relates to learning and who has been a consultant to the LEGO Foundation. Play “involves both novelty and it involves difference, it involves experimentation, it involves trying things out in a safe context. ... So, connected to that, it can involve creativity because you are freed from the normal kind of boundaries.”

Dr. Neale says there’s been a cultural shift of grown-ups openly embracing play. They now buy coloring books, visit escape rooms, and engage in cosplay at pop culture conventions. But what makes Lego pieces uniquely suited to older generations is their versatility. The toy, developed by a Danish firm that dates back to 1932, has a timeless system. An interlocking plastic Lego brick manufactured in 2022 will seamlessly fit one made in the 1950s. 

Yet for decades, the toy was aimed at children. British fan Huw Millington only first became aware of other adult enthusiasts during the primordial era of the internet. In 1997, he founded Brickset.com, a site that catalogs Lego sets and publishes news from correspondents.

“If I had told somebody I played with Lego and run a Lego website in the early 2000s, people would say, ‘What are you doing that for? Playing with a kids’ toy?’” says Mr. Millington. “Well, that has changed.”

Adult perceptions of the toy started to shift with the introduction of themed sets for “Star Wars,” “The Lord of the Rings,” and “Harry Potter.” “The Lego Movie,” a sophisticated comedy released in 2014, supercharged grown-up interest.  

Melanie Stetson Freeman/Staff

Greg Tull built Yoda from a Lego set.

“That film has the adult builder character [played by] Will Ferrell,” says Simon Hugo, co-author of “The LEGO Ideas Book.” “It makes huge fun of the adult builder who loses the childhood sense of play.” 

Adult fans of Lego bricks are far more visible now. Several countries have their own iterations of the “LEGO Masters” TV show. Brickworld Chicago – one of several annual conventions held around the world – features 100,000 square feet of displays. Celebrity fans such as actors Daniel Radcliffe and Anna Kendrick have enthused about picking up the hobby during the pandemic. “People just took to it, especially during COVID lockdowns,” says Erin Laundry, a contestant on the U.S. version of “LEGO Masters.” “A lot of people who like jigsaw puzzles kind of crossed over to Lego.”  

Mr. Tull, the Coast Guard member, owns a quarter-million Lego pieces, organized in plastic containers and labeled drawers in his basement in Weymouth. It’s as colorful as a coral reef. Growing up in a Missouri household of seven children, Mr. Tull didn’t experience what adult fans call “the dark ages.” That’s the period when someone outgrows the toy as a teenager until they come back to it as an adult. “They rediscover that there was an element of play that was missing from their lives and an element of that sort of freedom and creative expression,” says Mr. Tull, a young father whose wife also enjoys building with Lego bricks.

As a teenager, Mr. Tull along with one of his sisters created a stop-motion Lego animation movie that they submitted to a film festival. Now, he’s developing a Lego TV series. 

Melanie Stetson Freeman/Staff

Greg Tull’s workshop features 250,000 Lego pieces organized in bins.

He describes Lego pieces as a medium – one that appeals as much to artists as it does to engineers. “And then you’ll see those two things blended,” he adds. “Someone will build a robot that’s beautiful in design, but also functional from an engineering perspective.”

The world’s biggest toy company has begun releasing products aimed at women, such as flowers made from the bricks (no watering needed). But Lego sets were traditionally geared toward boys. Lego estimates that women only account for about 20% of all adult fans, says Megan Lum, a leader at the Women’s Brick Initiative, an online group dedicated to encouraging more women to take up the hobby. In 2012, the  company released a product line for girls called Lego Friends. 

“It’s one of Lego’s top-selling lines,” says Ms. Lum. “I think we’ll see a surge in more women building Lego because those ‘Friends’ girls are growing up.”

Ms. Laundry, the “LEGO Masters” competitor, first became a hobbyist in early 2021. For years, she would go to estate sales in search of Lego sets for her husband and son. When the music fan tried building a Beatles “Yellow Submarine” set, she became hooked. She started taking classes on Lego robotics. 

“I never thought I could learn about gear ratios or learn how to add motion to builds because, for some reason, I didn’t think I was able to do those things,” she says. “It became a source of self-esteem for me.” 

Ms. Laundry met her “LEGO Masters” teammate, Liz Puleo, in an online women’s group. In the first episode of the latest season they built a guitar-shaped spaceship. “I’m a huge fan of continuing play and creativity into adulthood,” she says. “I’m very attracted to the bright, cheerful colors of Lego. It makes me feel happy.” 

Reuters

A man walks past presidential campaign materials depicting Brazil's former President Luiz Inacio Lula da Silva and and President Jair Bolsonaro in Brasilia,

In recent years, political disinformation campaigns – like those that have shaken confidence in America’s democratic institutions – have become an increasingly common playbook around the world. Brazilian voters now have an opportunity to push back against that trend.

On Sunday, the South American giant holds presidential and congressional elections that carry high stakes for Latin America. The most immediate consequence could be the reversal of democracy’s erosion in Brazil – and the model it sets elsewhere.

The election campaign has been marred by violence and, most of all, withering campaign rhetoric aimed at undermining the integrity of the electoral system. Yet despite those threats, or perhaps because of them, voters appear undeterred. A Gallup Poll this week showed that lack of public confidence in the honesty of the ballot, while still high at 67%, is nearly 20% lower than it was ahead of the last presidential election in 2018.

The mood to defend democracy was reflected in a public letter drafted by the University of Brasília law school faculty and signed by nearly 1 million people. “Our civic conscience is much greater than the opponents of democracy imagine,” the letter declares. “We know how to put aside minor differences in favor of something much bigger, the defense of the democratic order. ... We cry out in unison: Democratic rule of law always!” On the day it was released in August, it was read aloud in crowded public gatherings in cities across the country.

A similar campaign has been waged by Brazil’s election bodies, the military, the courts, and civil society to safeguard voters and boost accountability in the vote. That includes the creation of a “transparency commission” of tech experts, public officials, and pro-democracy groups to counter disinformation. The Election Court (which oversees elections), for example, partnered with WhatsApp to allow users to denounce bulk messages from candidates.

Candidates “are more timid because they know that the verification instruments are very strong,” said Chico Otavio, a reporter at O Globo newspaper, to Agência Brasil before the last election. “The lie has lost its force.”

The Election Court also, for the first time, ran an advance simulation of its voting-day testing procedure for ballot counting machines to demonstrate their accuracy. Military leaders have reportedly offered quiet assurances to members of Congress and the judiciary that they will not back any efforts by candidates to disrupt the election or oppose the results unlawfully.

“We are living through particularly difficult times in the institutional life of the country,” said Justice Rosa Weber, who was made president of Brazil’s Supreme Federal Court on Sept. 12. “I pay homage to the Brazilian people who do not give up the fight for their real independence and seek to build it every day.”

At a time of global concern for democracy, Latin America is providing laboratories of civic resilience. In some countries, like Nicaragua and El Salvador, authoritarian governments hold the upper hand. Elsewhere, in countries like Chile and Honduras, democracy is finding renewal, fueled by public demands for honesty and equality. On Sunday, and in the days that follow the vote, Brazilians may add a new accent to those demands.