Fleeing one country to escape its politics, only to think about going back because of the weather, sounds almost absurd—but it says a lot about how people really make decisions about where to live. And this is the part most people miss: it’s not always about principles or big statements, sometimes it’s about whether you can face another long, grey winter.
Ellen DeGeneres and Portia de Rossi left the United States and settled in the UK just before Donald Trump’s election victory, framing their move as a way to be on what they saw as the calmer, more rational side of the Atlantic. They reportedly bought an upscale home in the Cotswolds, embraced their new British surroundings, and even charmed locals at a public event by saying that “everything” in the UK felt better, from the atmosphere to day‑to‑day life. It was a classic honeymoon phase: new country, new lifestyle, new identity as honorary Brits.
But here’s where it gets controversial. Once the glow of the British summer faded and the dark, damp winter set in, rumours began circulating that the couple might be reconsidering their new life and thinking about retreating to Trump‑era California. According to reports, they miss their friends and can’t stand the idea of going through another chilly, grey season in rural England, which makes their original anti‑Trump stance look a bit less heroic and a bit more like a weather‑dependent experiment. It raises an awkward question: if you say you are fleeing creeping authoritarianism, do you lose some credibility if you rush back the moment you realise British skies are more drizzle than blue?
This tension between lofty political statements and everyday comfort is captured perfectly in the familiar advice a British parent might give: if you’re cold, just put on another jumper and get on with it. From that perspective, the idea of abandoning your new life because the clouds are heavy and the heating bills are high can sound like a very American expectation that the sky should always be sunny and the climate always pleasant. It subtly pits two cultural mindsets against each other: stoic British acceptance of grim weather versus the American belief that you shouldn’t have to suffer through a season you don’t like.
And this is the part most people miss: Ellen and Portia are not alone in publicly hinting they would not live under Trump, only to wobble when it comes to actually leaving. Ever since Trump became a central figure in American politics, Hollywood has felt like a departure lounge full of dramatic announcements about moving abroad if the election goes the “wrong” way, but hardly anyone really boards the metaphorical flight. The gap between what celebrities say in interviews or on social media and what they end up doing has become almost a running joke.
Comedian Amy Schumer, for instance, once said she would move to Spain or “somewhere” if Trump won, but later explained that the comment was made in jest and was never a serious relocation plan. Miley Cyrus similarly declared she would leave the country if Trump became president, insisting at the time that she meant every word, only to later admit that she did not always stand by what she had said so passionately in the moment. Barbra Streisand also talked about leaving, not just once but in connection with both the 2016 and 2024 elections, yet there has been no sign of a permanent move away from the United States.
Still, to make things more complicated—and more interesting—there are a few American celebrities who really have uprooted their lives and appear committed to staying away. Courtney Love, for example, has been living in London for several years and has spoken about her intention to gain British citizenship, while describing the political situation in the US as alarming and unsettling. Her choice looks less like a publicity stunt and more like a long‑term decision to build a life in a system she currently finds more stable.
Rosie O’Donnell offers an even more serious example of celebrity self‑exile. She moved her family to Ireland and openly linked that decision to concerns about the safety and rights of her non‑binary child, suggesting that she would only consider returning to the US when equal rights felt secure for everyone. Given her long, bitter feud with Trump and his talk of punishing her, including threatening to take away her US citizenship, her decision starts to look less like a symbolic gesture and more like a rational response to feeling personally targeted in a politically volatile environment.
While famous people draw attention, the bigger and arguably more worrying story is what seems to be happening beneath the celebrity surface. There are signs of a broader “brain drain” from the US as scientists, academics, and students rethink whether they want to live and work in a country where political turmoil, funding cuts, and rising authoritarian rhetoric are becoming part of everyday life. Surveys suggest that large numbers of researchers are considering leaving the US, and international students are increasingly hesitant about choosing American universities, which could weaken the country’s long‑term scientific and intellectual influence.
Some of the most striking examples come from scholars who specialise in studying authoritarian regimes. A group of professors who research fascism publicly announced that they were leaving the US for Canada, warning that when you recognise patterns you have seen in history, it is safer to leave early rather than wait and hope things improve. Their departure sends a stark message: if the experts on authoritarianism decide the risk is high enough to move their lives elsewhere, maybe the threat is more than just political theatre.
And yet, despite all this, there is a darkly comic contrast between the professors who are leaving because of what they see as an existential political danger and celebrities who might be packing their bags because they can’t stand damp shoes and gloomy afternoons in the English countryside. A harsh winter in the Cotswolds can feel miserable, but stacked up against fears of democratic backsliding, growing political violence, and threats to citizenship, it almost sounds trivial—almost, but not entirely, because personal comfort still matters to how people actually live. The uneasy mix of serious political anxiety and very human everyday preferences is exactly what makes these stories so unsettling—and so easy to argue about.
So here’s the uncomfortable, perhaps controversial question: when a celebrity says they are leaving a country for moral or political reasons, should we treat it as a genuine stand, or as emotional rhetoric that will melt away like snow in spring? If you had to choose, would you endure miserable weather and a lifestyle you dislike in a country that aligns with your values, or go back to sunshine and familiarity under a leader you strongly oppose? And be honest: do you think Ellen and Portia—and other stars like them—owe anyone consistency, or are they just human beings allowed to change their minds like everyone else?
