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Rachel Diamond, Adler University Preventable failures in U.S. maternal health care result in far too many pregnancy-related deaths. Each year, approximately 700 parents die from pregnancy and childbirth complications. As such, the U.S. maternal mortality rate is more than double that of most other developed countries. The Department of Health and Human Services declared maternal deaths a public health crisis in December 2020. Such calls to action by the U.S. Surgeon General are reserved for only the most serious of public health crises. In October 2022, the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention released new data gathered between 2017 and 2019 that further paints an alarming picture of maternal health in the U.S. The report concluded that a staggering 84% of pregnancy-related deaths are preventable. However, these numbers don’t even reflect how widespread this problem could be. At present, only 39 states have dedicated committees in place to review maternal deaths and determine whether they were preventable; of those, 36 states were included in the latest CDC data. I am a therapist and scholar specializing in mental health during the perinatal period, the time during pregnancy and postpartum. Research has long demonstrated significant mental health risks associated with pregnancy, childbirth and the year following childbirth. The CDC’s report now makes it clear that mental health conditions are an important factor in many of these preventable deaths. A closer look at the numbers The staggering number of preventable maternal deaths – 84% – from the CDC’s most recent report represents a 27% increase from the agency’s previous report, from 2008 to 2017. Of these pregnancy-related deaths, 22% occur during pregnancy, 13% during childbirth and 65% during the year following childbirth. This raises the obvious question: Why are so many preventable pregnancy-related deaths occurring in the U.S., and why is the number rising? For a pregnancy-related death to be categorized as preventable, a maternal mortality review committee must conclude there was some chance the death could have been avoided by at least one reasonable change related to the patient, community, provider, facility or systems of care. The most commonly identified factors in these preventable deaths have been those directly related to the patient or their support networks, followed next by providers and systems of care. While patient factors may be most frequently identified, they are often dependent on providers and systems of care. Take, for instance, the example of a new mother dying by suicide from a mental health condition, such as depression. Patient factors could include her lack of awareness about the warning signs of clinical depression, which she may have mistaken for difficulties with the transition to parenthood and perceived personal failures as a new parent. As is often the case, these factors would have directly related to the inaction of health care providers, such as a failure to screen for mental health concerns, delays in diagnosis and ineffective treatment. This type of breakdown – which is common – would have been made worse by poor coordination of care between providers across the health care system. This example illustrates the complexities of the failures and preventable outcomes in the maternal health care system. https://www.youtube.com/embed/ARNKVrWFDvc?wmode=transparent&start=0 The U.S. has a far higher rate of pregnancy-related deaths than other developed nations. The role of mental health In the CDC’s latest report, mental health conditions are the overall most frequent cause of pregnancy-related death. Approximately 23% of deaths are attributed to suicide, substance use disorder or are otherwise associated with a mental health condition. The next two leading causes are hemorrhage and cardiac conditions, which combined contribute to only slightly more deaths than mental health conditions, at about 14 and 13%, respectively. Research has long shown that 1 in 5 women suffer from mental health conditions during pregnancy and the postpartum period, and that this is also a time of increased risk for suicide. Yet, mental illness – namely, depression – is the most underdiagnosed obstetric complication in America. Despite some promising reductions in U.S. suicide rates in the general population over the last decade, maternal suicide has tripled during this same time period. As it relates to maternal substance use, this issue is also worsening. In recent years, almost all deaths from drug overdose during pregnancy and the postpartum period involved opioids. A review from 2007 to 2016 found that pregnancy-related deaths involving opioids more than doubled. Many of these issues stem from the fact that up to 80% of women with maternal mental health concerns are undiagnosed or untreated. Barriers to care In 2021, the first national data set of its kind showed that less than 20% of prenatal and postpartum patients were screened for depression. Only half of those who screened positive received follow-up care. Research has long demonstrated widespread barriers and gaps in maternal mental health care. Many health care providers do not screen for mental health concerns because they do not know where to refer a patient or how to treat the condition. In addition, only about 40% of new mothers even attend their postpartum visit to have the opportunity for detection. Non-attendance is more common among higher-risk populations of postpartum women, such as those who are socially and economically vulnerable and whose births are covered by Medicaid. Medicaid covers around 4 in 10 births. Through Medicaid benefits, pregnant women are covered for care related to pregnancy, birth and associated complications, but only up to 60 days postpartum. Not until 2021 did the American Rescue Plan Act begin extending Medicaid coverage up to one year postpartum. But as of November 2022, only 27 states have adopted the Medicaid extension. In the other states, new mothers lose postpartum coverage after just 60 days. This matters a great deal because low-income mothers are at a greater risk for postpartum depression, with reported rates as high as 40% to 60%. In addition, the recent CDC report showed that 30% of preventable pregnancy-related deaths happened between 43 and 365 days postpartum – which is also the time frame suicide most commonly occurs. Continued Medicaid expansion would reduce the number of uninsured new parents and rates of maternal mortality. Another challenging barrier to addressing maternal mental health is the criminalization of substance use during pregnancy. If seeking care exposes a pregnant person to the possibility of criminal or civil pentalties – including incarceration, involvement with child protective services and the prospect of separation from their baby – it will naturally dissuade them from seeking treatment. At this time, 24 states consider substance use during pregnancy to be child abuse, and 25 states require health care professionals to report suspected prenatal drug use. Likewise, there are also tremendous barriers in the postpartum period for mothers seeking substance use treatment, due in part to the lack of family-centered options. With all these barriers, many pregnant and new mothers may make the difficult decision to not engage in treatment during a critical window for intervention. Looking ahead While the information described above already paints a dire picture, the CDC data was collected prior to two major events: the COVID-19 pandemic and the fall of Roe v. Wade, which overturned nearly 50 years of abortion rights. Both of these events have exacerbated existing cracks in the health care system and, subsequently, worsened the maternal health in the U.S. In my view, without radical changes to maternal health care in the U.S., starting with how mental health is treated throughout pregnancy and postpartum, it’s likely parents will continue to die from causes that could otherwise be prevented. Rachel Diamond, Clinical Training DIrector and Assistant Professor of Couple and Family Therapy, Adler University This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

Edouard Wemy, Assistant Professor of Economics, Clark University In any other time, the jobs news that came down on Dec. 2, 2022, would be reason for cheer. The U.S. added 263,000 nonfarm jobs in November, leaving the unemployment rate at a low 3.7%. Moreover, wages are up – with average hourly pay jumping 5.1% compared with a year earlier. So why am I not celebrating? Oh, yes: inflation. The rosy employment figures come despite repeated efforts by the Federal Reserve to tame the job market and the wider economy in general in its fight against the worst inflation in decades. The Fed has now increased the base interest rate six times in 2022, going from a historic low of about zero to a range of 3.75% to 4% today. Another hike is expected on Dec. 13. Yet inflation remains stubbornly high, and currently sits at an annual rate of 7.7%. The economic rationale behind hiking rates is that it increases the cost of doing business for companies. This in turn acts as brake on the economy, which should cool inflation. But that doesn’t appear to be happening. A closer dive into November’s jobs report reveals why. It shows that the labor force participation rate – how many working-age Americans have a job or are seeking one – is stuck at just over 62.1%. As the report notes, that figure is “little changed” in November and has shown “little net change since early this year.” In fact, it is down 1.3 percentage points from pre-COVID-19 pandemic levels. This suggests that the heating up of the labor market is being driven by supply-side issues. That is, there aren’t enough people to fill the jobs being advertised. Companies still want to hire – as the above-expected job gains indicate. But with fewer people actively looking for work in the U.S., companies are having to go the extra yard to be attractive to job seekers. And that means offering higher wages. And higher wages – they were up 5.1% in November from a year earlier – contribute to spiraling inflation. This puts the Fed in a very difficult position. Simply put, there is not an awful lot it can do about supply-side issues in the labor market. The main monetary tool it has to affect jobs is rate hikes, which make it more costly to do business, which should have an impact on hiring. But that only affects the demand side – that is, employers and recruitment policies. So where does this leave the possibility of further rate hikes? Viewing this as an economist, it suggests that the Fed might be eyeing a base rate jump of more than 75 basis points on Dec. 13, rather than a softening of its policies as Chair Jerome Powell had suggested as recently as Nov. 30. Yes, this still would not ease the labor supply problem that is encouraging wage growth, but it might serve to cool the wider economy nonetheless. The problem is, this would increase the chances of also pushing the U.S. economy into a recession – and it could be a pretty nasty recession. Wage growth still trails behind inflation, and for one reason or another people have been opting out of the labor market. The logical assumption to make is that to make up for both these factors, American families have been dipping into their savings. Statistics back this up. The personal saving rate – that is, the chunk of income left after paying taxes and spending money – has fallen steeply, down to 2.3% in December from 9.3% before the pandemic. In fact, it is at its lowest rate since 2005. So, yes, employment is robust. But the money being earned is eroded by soaring inflation. Meanwhile, the safety net of savings that families might need is getting smaller. In short, people are not prepared for the recession that might be lurking around the corner. And this is why I am gloomy. This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

Svetla Ben-Itzhak, Air University On Sept. 26, 2022, NASA plans to change an asteroid’s orbit. The large binary asteroid Didymos and its moonlet Dimorphos currently pose no threat to Earth. But by crashing a 1,340-pound (610-kilogram) probe into Didymos’ moon at a speed of approximately 14,000 mph (22,500 kph), NASA is going to complete the world’s first full-scale planetary defense mission as a proof of concept. This mission is called the Double Asteroid Redirection Test, or DART. I am a scholar who studies space and international security, and it is my job to ask what the likelihood really is of an object crashing into the planet – and whether governments are spending enough money to prevent such an event. To find the answers to these questions, one has to know what near-Earth objects are out there. To date, NASA has tracked only an estimated 40% of the bigger ones. Surprise asteroids have visited Earth in the past and will undoubtedly do so in the future. Experiments like the DART mission may help prepare humanity for such an event. The threat from asteroids and comets Millions of cosmic bodies, like asteroids and comets, orbit the Sun and often crash into the Earth. Most of these are too small to pose a threat, but some can be cause for concern. Near-Earth objects include asteroids and comets whose orbits will bring them within 120 million miles (193 million kilometers) of the Sun. Astronomers consider a near-Earth object a threat if it will come within 4.6 million miles (7.4 million kilometers) of the planet and if it is at least 460 feet (140 meters) in diameter. If a celestial body of this size crashed into Earth, it could destroy an entire city and cause extreme regional devastation. Larger objects – 0.6 miles (1 kilometer) or more – could have global effects and even cause mass extinctions. The most famous and destructive celestial impact took place 65 million years ago when an asteroid with a 6-mile (10-kilometer) diameter crashed into what is now the Yucatán Peninsula. It wiped out most plant and animal species on Earth, including the dinosaurs. But smaller objects can also cause significant damage. In 1908, an approximately 164-foot (50-meter) celestial body exploded over the Podkamennaya Tunguska River in Siberia. It leveled more than 80 million trees over 830 square miles (2,100 square kilometers). In 2013, an asteroid only 65 feet (20 meters) across burst in the atmosphere 20 miles (32 kilometers) above Chelyabinsk, Russia. It released the equivalent of 30 Hiroshima bombs’ worth of energy, injured over 1,100 people and caused US$33 million in damage. The likely next asteroid of substantial size to potentially hit Earth is asteroid 2005 ED224. When the 164-foot (50-meter) asteroid passes by on March 11, 2023, there is roughly a 1 in 500,000 chance of impact. Watching the skies While the chances of a larger cosmic body striking Earth are small, the devastation would be enormous. Congress recognized this threat, and in the 1998 Spaceguard Survey, it tasked NASA to find and track 90% of the estimated total of near-Earth objects 0.6 miles (1 kilometer) across or bigger within 10 years. NASA surpassed the 90% goal in 2011. In 2005, Congress passed another bill requiring NASA to expand its search and track at least 90% of all near-Earth objects 460 feet (140 meters) or larger by the end of 2020. That year has come and gone and, mostly because of a lack of financial resources, only 40% of those objects have been mapped. As of Sept. 18, 2022, astronomers have located 29,724 near-Earth asteroids, of which 10,189 are 460 feet (140 meters) or larger in diameter and 855 are at least 0.6 miles (1 kilometer) across. About 30 new objects are added each week. A new mission funded by Congress in 2018 is scheduled in 2026 to launch an infrared space-based telescope – NEO Surveyor – dedicated to searching for potentially dangerous asteroids. https://www.youtube.com/embed/Yl2f46L5DJ4?wmode=transparent&start=0 Smaller asteroids, like the one that exploded over Russia in 2013, can strike Earth without warning, but larger, more dangerous objects have surprised astronomers too. Cosmic surprises We can prevent a disaster only if we know it is coming, and asteroids have sneaked up on Earth before. A so-called “city-killer” asteroid the size of a football field passed less than 45,000 miles (72,420 kilometers) from Earth in 2019. An asteroid the size of a 747 jet came close in 2021, as did an asteroid 0.6 miles (1 kilometer) wide in 2012. Each of these was discovered only about a day before it passed Earth. Research suggests that Earth’s rotation creates a blind spot, hiding some asteroids from detection or making them appear stationary. This may be a problem, as some surprise asteroids do not miss us. In 2008, astronomers spotted a small asteroid only 19 hours before it crashed into rural Sudan. The recent discovery of an asteroid 1.2 miles (2 kilometers) in diameter suggests that there are still big objects lurking. What can be done? To protect the planet from cosmic dangers, early detection is key. At the 2021 Planetary Defense Conference, scientists recommended a minimum of five to 10 years’ preparation time to mount a successful defense against hazardous asteroids. If astronomers find a dangerous object, there are four ways to mitigate a disaster. The first involves regional first-aid and evacuation measures. A second approach would involve sending a spacecraft to fly near a small- or medium-sized asteroid; the gravity of the craft would slowly change the object’s orbit. To change a bigger asteroid’s path, we can either crash something into it at high speed or detonate a nuclear warhead nearby. The DART mission will be the first-ever attempt to deflect a large asteroid. But this will not be the first time humanity has sent something to an asteroid. NASA’s Deep Space Impact mission crashed a probe into the comet 9P/Tempel in 2005 to take scientific measurements of the comet, and in 2018 Japan’s Hayabusa2 mission collected samples from the asteroid Ryugu and brought them back to Earth, but neither of these was designed as a planetary defense test. The DART mission should generate a lot of useful information. This data will come from a camera aboard the DART spacecraft that will send images back to Earth up until the time of impact. In addition, a tiny satellite called LICIACube that was deployed from DART on Sept. 11, 2022, will take photos of the impact. A follow-up mission from the European Space Agency, called Hera, will launch in 2024 and rendezvous with Didymos in 2026 to begin collecting data. Spending on planetary defense In 2021, NASA’s planetary defense budget was $158 million, just 0.7% of NASA’s total budget and 0.02% of the roughly $700 billion U.S. defense budget. Is this the right amount to invest in monitoring the skies, given the fact that some 60% of all potentially dangerous asteroids remain undetected? This is an important question to ask when one considers the potential consequences. Investing in planetary defense is akin to buying homeowners insurance. The likelihood of experiencing an event that destroys your house is small, yet people buy insurance nonetheless. If even a single object larger than 460 feet (140 meters) hits the planet, the devastation and loss of life would be extreme. A bigger impact could quite literally wipe out most species on Earth. Even if no such body is expected to hit Earth in the next 100 years, the chance is not zero. In this low-likelihood-versus-high-consequences scenario, investing in protecting the planet from dangerous cosmic objects may give humanity some peace of mind and could prevent a catastrophe. This is an updated version of a story originally published on March 1, 2022. Svetla Ben-Itzhak, Assistant Professor of Space and International Relations, Air University This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article. Featured image caption: The Double Asteroid Redirection Test is the first planetary defense experiment ever attempted. NASA/JHUAPL/Steve Gribben

Andrew Newman, Stony Brook University (The State University of New York) If you went to high school in the United States anytime since the 1960s, you were likely assigned some of the following books: Shakespeare’s “Romeo and Juliet,” “Julius Caesar” and “Macbeth”; John Steinbeck’s “Of Mice and Men”; F. Scott Fitzgerald’s “The Great Gatsby”; Harper Lee’s “To Kill a Mockingbird”; and William Golding’s “The Lord of the Flies.” For many former students, these books and other so-called “classics” represent high school English. But despite the efforts of reformers, both past and present, the most frequently assigned titles have never represented America’s diverse student body. Why did these books become classics in the U.S.? How have they withstood challenges to their status? And will they continue to dominate high school reading lists? Or will they be replaced by a different set of books that will become classics for students in the 21st century? The high school canon The set of books that is taught again and again, broadly across the country, is referred to by literature scholars and English teachers as “the canon.” The high school canon has been shaped by many factors. Shakespeare’s plays, especially “Macbeth” and “Julius Caesar,” have been taught consistently since the beginning of the 20th century, when the curriculum was determined by college entrance requirements. Others, like “To Kill a Mockingbird,” winner of the 1961 Pulitzer Prize for fiction, were ushered into the classroom by current events – in the case of Lee’s book, the civil rights movement. Some books just seem especially suited for classroom teaching: “Of Mice and Men” has a straightforward plot, easily identifiable themes and is under 100 pages long. Titles become “traditional” when they are passed down through generations. As the education historian Jonna Perrillo observes, parents tend to approve of having their children study the same books that they once did. The last period of significant change to the canon was during the 1960s and 1970s, when the largest generation of the 20th century, the baby boomers, went to high school. For instance, in 1963, a survey of 800 students at Evanston Township High School in Illinois revealed that “To Kill a Mockingbird,” first published in 1960, was by far the “most enjoyed book,” followed by two books that had been published in the 1950s, J.D. Salinger’s “The Catcher in the Rye” and Golding’s “The Lord of the Flies.” None of these books were yet traditional, yet they became so for the next generation. A comparison of national surveys conducted in 1963 and 1988 shows how several books that were introduced to the classroom when the boomers were students had become classics when boomers were teachers. During the 1960s and 1970s, teachers even reframed “Romeo and Juliet” as a contemporary work. Lesson plans from the era referred to its adaptations into “West Side Story” – a musical that initially came out in 1957 – and Franco Zefferelli’s risqué 1968 film version of Shakespeare’s story of star-crossed lovers. It became the perfect hook for ninth graders in a study of Shakespeare that would conclude in 12th grade with “Macbeth.” Efforts to diversify English education professor Arthur Applebee observed in 1989 that, since the 1960s, “leaders in the profession of English teaching have tried to broaden the curriculum to include more selections by women and minority authors.” But in the late 1980s, according to his findings, the high school “top ten” still included only one book by a woman – Lee’s “To Kill a Mockingbird” – and none by minority authors. At that time, a raging debate was underway about whether America was a “melting pot” in which many cultures became one, or a colorful “mosaic” in which many cultures coexisted. Proponents of the latter view argued for a multicultural canon, but they were ultimately unable to establish one. A 2011 survey of Southern schools by Joyce Stallworth and Louel C. Gibbons, published in “English Leadership Quarterly,” found that the five most frequently taught books were all traditional selections: “The Great Gatsby,” “Romeo and Juliet,” Homer’s “The Odyssey,” Arthur Miller’s “The Crucible” and “To Kill a Mockingbird.” One explanation for this persistence is that the canon is not simply a list: It takes form as stacks of copies on shelves in the storage area known as the “book room.” Changes to the inventory require time, money and effort. Depending on the district, replacing a classic might require approval by the school board. And it would create more work for teachers who are already maxed out. “Too many teachers, probably myself included, teach from the traditional canon,” a teacher told Stallworth and Gibbons. “We are overworked and underpaid and struggle to find the time to develop quality lessons for new books.” The end of an era? Esau McCauley, the author of “Reading While Black,” describes the list of classics by white authors as the “pre-integration canon.” At least two factors suggest that its dominance over the curriculum is coming to an end. First, the battles over which books should be taught have become more intense than ever. On the one hand, progressives like the teachers of the growing #DisruptTexts movement call for the inclusion of books by Black, Native American and other authors of color – and they question the status of the classics. On the other hand, conservatives have challenged or successfully banned the teaching of many new books that deal with gender and sexuality or race. PEN America, a nonprofit organization that fights for free expression for writers, reports “a profound increase” in book bans. The outcome might be a literature curriculum that more resembles the political divisions in this country. Much more than in the past, students in conservative and progressive districts might read very different books. Second, English Language Arts education itself is changing. State standards, such as those adopted by New York in 2017, no longer make the teaching of literature the primary focus of English class. Instead, there is a new emphasis on “information literacy.” And while preceding generations of teachers voiced concerns about the distractions of radio and then television, books may have an even smaller share of students’ attention in the age of cellphones, the internet, social media and online gaming. “We no longer live in a print-dominant, text-only world,” the National Council of Teachers of English proclaims in a 2022 position statement. The group calls for English teachers to put less emphasis on books in order to train students to use and analyze a variety of media. Accordingly, students across the country may not only have fewer books in common, but they also may be reading fewer books altogether. Why teach literature? Over generations, English teachers have voiced many reasons to teach books, and the canon in particular: to instill a common culture, foster citizenship, build empathy and cultivate lifelong readers. These goals have little to do with the skills emphasized by contemporary academic standards. But if literature is going to continue to be an important part of American education, it is important to talk not only about what books to teach, but the reasons why. This story has been updated to correct the year that “West Side Story” appeared as a musical. Andrew Newman, Professor and Chair, Stony Brook University (The State University of New York) This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article. Featured image caption: High school students have studied many of the same books for generations. Is it time for a change? Andrew_Howe via Getty Images

David Shiffman, Arizona State University Sharks are some of the most ecologically important and most threatened animals on Earth. Recent reports show that up to one-third of all known species of sharks and their relatives, rays, are threatened with extinction. Unsustainable overfishing is the biggest threat by far. Losing sharks can disrupt coastal food webs that billions of people depend on for food. When food chains lose their top predators, the rest can unravel as smaller prey species multiply. In my years of talking with the public about sharks and ocean conservation, I’ve found that many people care about sharks and want to help but don’t know how. The solutions can be quite technical, and it’s challenging to understand and appreciate the scale and scope of some of the threats. At the same time, there is an enormous amount of oversimplification and even misinformation about these important topics, which can lead well-intentioned people to support policies that experts know won’t work. I am a marine conservation biologist and have sought to improve this situation by surveying shark researchers and helping scientists identify research topics that can advance conservation. I’ve also written a book, “Why Sharks Matter: A Deep Dive With the World’s Most Misunderstood Predator.” Here are three ways that anyone can make a difference for sharks and avoid taking steps that are ineffective or even harmful. https://www.youtube.com/embed/tKXd8Ud1sOo?wmode=transparent&start=0 A 2020 study that surveyed 371 reefs found that sharks had virtually disappeared from about 20% of them. Don’t eat unsustainable seafood The No. 1 threat to sharks and rays – and arguably, to marine biodiversity in general – is unsustainable overfishing. Some fishing methods are incredibly destructive to marine life and habitats. They can also produce high rates of bycatch – the unintended catch of nontarget species. For example, fishermen pursuing tuna may accidentally catch sea turtles or sharks swimming near the tuna. The single most effective thing that individual consumers can do is to avoid seafood produced using these harmful methods. This does not mean completely avoiding seafood, as some advocates urge. Seafood is healthy, delicious and culturally important, and there are environmentally friendly ways of catching it sustainably. There are even sustainable fisheries for sharks. Reputable organizations such as California’s Monterey Bay Aquarium publish sustainable seafood guides that rate different types of seafood based on how they are caught or raised. While experts may quibble over details of some of these rankings, consumers can follow these guidelines and know that they are helping to protect sharks and ocean life in general. Support reputable environmental nonprofits, not harmful extremists Lots of great environmental nonprofit organizations work on shark issues and offer opportunities to get involved, such as donating money and communicating with elected officials and other decision-makers. In my book, I describe the work of many of these groups, including my favorite, Shark Advocates International. Unfortunately, some organizations promote pseudoscience that doesn’t help anyone or anything. In a 2021 study, colleagues and I surveyed employees of 78 nonprofits that work on shark conservation issues to understand whether and how these organizations engaged with the science of shark conservation. We found that a small but vocal minority had never read scientific reports or spoken with scientists, and held blatantly incorrect and harmful views that cannot help sharks. For example, some organizations are trying to get certain airlines to stop carrying shark products like dried fins, without acknowledging that well over 95% of fins are shipped by sea or that sustainable sources of these fins exist. One of my particular pet peeves is amateur online petitions that may not reflect actual conditions. For example, in the spring of 2022, some 60,000 people signed a petition calling for Florida to ban the practice of shark finning – without recognizing that Florida had banned shark finning in the early 1990s. As I explain in my book, it is essential to identify organizations that use science in support of worthwhile conservation goals and avoid promoting others that do not. Look to experts Many ocean science, management and conservation experts are active on social media. Following them is a great way to learn about fascinating new scientific discoveries and conservation issues. Unfortunately, sharks also get a lot of sensational coverage in the media, and well-intentioned but uninformed people often spread misinformation on social media. For example, you may have seen posts celebrating Hawaii for banning shark fishing in its waters – but these posts don’t note that about 99% of fishing in Hawaii occurs in federal waters. Don’t take the bait. By getting your information from reliable sources, you can help other people learn more about these fascinating, ecologically important animals, why they need humans’ help and the most effective steps to take. David Shiffman, Post-Doctoral and Research Scholar in Marine Biology, Arizona State University This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article. Featured image caption: Whitetip sharks amid a school of anthias near Jarvis island in the South Pacific. Kelvin Gorospe, NOAA/NMFS/Pacific Islands Fisheries Science Center Blog/Flickr, CC BY

Mitchell Nathanson, Villanova School of Law When the Major League Baseball Players Association sent union authorization cards to approximately 5,000 minor league players in an attempt to unionize them, I was both surprised and not surprised at all. If any industry is crying out for unionization, it’s this one. Minor league baseball players are subject to some of the poorest wages and most dreadful working conditions in America. Most of them toil for years before being washed out of the game without ever having reached the promised land of the big leagues. On the other hand, as someone who has written about baseball’s labor history, I’ve noticed how nobody seemed to care all that much about minor leaguers until relatively recently. Which begs the question: Why now? Unionization, once a powerful weapon in the arsenal of the nation’s workforce, looks to be making a comeback – at least marginally, after decades of declining membership and strong-arm tactics by management to defang it. If unions can work their way into the strip mall coffee shop, why not Minor League Baseball? Big leaguers get their due It was hard enough to get major league players to work collectively on behalf of one another. Marvin Miller, a former labor negotiator for the United Steel Workers of America, became the executive director of the Major League Baseball Players Association in 1966. He soon realized that he faced a monumental task in encouraging big league, brand-name players to stand up for themselves against management. By 1968 he was able to negotiate the first collective bargaining agreement for MLB players. Two years later, he succeeded in not only raising the minimum major league salary 25% to US$10,000, but also securing for his players arbitration rights. By 1976, players with more than six years of service had won the right to become free agents and negotiate with any team of their choice. Salaries skyrocketed. As the MLBPA scored victory after victory on the labor front, life for the minor leaguers remained as it had been, and the chasm between being a big leaguer and a minor leaguer grew more pronounced as the decades passed. Over time, the grueling life of a minor leaguer became the stuff of legend, explored in films like “Bull Durham” and “Sugar.” Travel often remained as it always had been: by bus. Trips could last for days; it wasn’t considered cruel and unusual punishment to include clubs residing in Maine, Virginia and Ohio in the same league. Players are only paid during the roughly five-and-a-half month season. According to Advocates for Minor Leaguers – which was subsumed by the MLBPA as part of the union organization push – until 2021, the minimum minor league salary came out to around $4,800, which amounted to about one-third of the national poverty level of $12,880 for a single-person household. Meanwhile, the median minor league salary hovered around the national poverty level. On top of all this, players were responsible for securing and paying for their own housing. A weak attempt to appease In 2021, MLB began restructuring the minor leagues, realigning and contracting them such that 43 out of 163 minor league clubs were eliminated. After this reorganization, MLB finally upgraded minor league pay, at least somewhat, increasing the Single-A minimum salary from $290 to $500 per week and the Triple-A minimum salary from $502 to $700 per week over the course of the season. MLB also assumed responsibility for most player housing. This improved things, but only incrementally. Most minor leaguers still toil for substandard wages under conditions that seem unfathomable given the gravy train that is pretty much everything else Major League Baseball touches. To be sure, not all minor leaguers suffer under these circumstances. Early-round draft picks have the luxury of dipping into their substantial signing bonus money to supplement their minor league incomes. But all minor league players remain subject to a litany of further indignities at the hands of their employers: Clubhouses – where players can spend up to 12 hours a day – can be dingy shacks with dirt floors. Off days are few and far between – sometimes as few as a single day per month – and players are often made to feel disposable. “Minor-league players need to be looked at as investments, not pawns,” one minor leaguer confided to a reporter for The Athletic in 2021. “They act like we aren’t a part of the organization,” added another. The winds of change Suddenly, however, there’s been movement on the minor league front. If nobody else saw this coming, MLB likely did. Why else did the league finally make incremental changes in 2021? I doubt the MLB did this out of the goodness of their hearts. I believe they did it because, like Bob Dylan, they didn’t need a weatherman to know which way the wind was blowing. In July, MLB settled a $185 million class-action lawsuit over minor league pay, agreeing to permit clubs to compensate these players for their work during spring training. Formerly, clubs were prohibited from doing so. Now they’re free to compensate their players for this time – if they so choose. The MLBPA could sense the shifting winds as well. After decades of silence, people with influence were at last beginning to take note of what was going on down on the farm. Reporters started digging, and former players started speaking up, publishing thoughtful and incisive pieces detailing not only MLB’s back-of-the-hand treatment of minor league players, but also how the MLBPA often ignored or sold out their minor league counterparts in labor negotiations. And then, of course, there have been the high-profile unionization efforts at places such as Starbucks, Amazon, Apple, Chipotle and Trader Joe’s, which signaled that something was clearly afoot beyond the bushes. According to a recent Gallup poll, Americans’ support for unions is not merely ticking upwards – it’s at a 57-year high. The real work begins The unionization effort is far from a done deal; the MLBPA merely distributed union authorization cards. Now it’s up to a critical mass of minor league players to vote in favor of unionization. How many of these highly vulnerable minor leaguers are going to be willing to risk angering the people who hold their precarious futures in their hands? How many of them are going to be willing to put their lifelong dreams on the line for a union card? How many are confident enough that their skills are such that they won’t be released in retaliation for organizing? All I know for sure is that minor league baseball today finds itself in a place it has never been before: on the precipice of real, profound change. Depending on how things turn out, perhaps one day the reality of being a professional ballplayer might actually resemble the fantasy so many young ballplayers have clung to for generations. Mitchell Nathanson, Professor of Law, Villanova School of Law This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article. Featured image caption: Minor league players often endure lengthy bus trips. Bob Chamberlin/Los Angeles Times via Getty Images

Charles R. Hunt, Boise State University Pennsylvania’s U.S. Senate race between Democrat John Fetterman and Republican Mehmet Oz has garnered a lot of media attention recently, thanks to the Fetterman campaign’s relentless trolling of his opponent, mainly for being a resident of neighboring New Jersey rather than the state he’s running to represent. Fetterman has run ad after ad using Oz’s own words to highlight his deep Jersey roots. His campaign started a petition to nominate Oz for the New Jersey Hall of Fame. Fetterman even enlisted very-Jersey celebrities like Snooki of “Jersey Shore” to draw attention to his charge that Oz is a carpetbagger in the Pennsylvania race: a candidate with no authentic connection to an area, who moved there for the sole purpose of political ambition. Fetterman’s attacks against Oz may be entertaining, but they aren’t unprecedented. Such characterizations can be helpful in elections. Sen. Jon Tester, a Democrat, won a tight race in Montana in 2018 in part by dubbing his out-of-town opponent “Maryland Matt.” Democrat Joe Manchin has held on for so long to a Senate seat in a deep red state by “play[ing] up his West Virginia roots.” Meanwhile, Maine Democrat (and native Rhode Islander) Sara Gideon got caught – and derided for – sporting a Patagonia fleece in a state that famously is home to L.L. Bean. She lost to Maine native Susan Collins in the 2020 Senate race even as Joe Biden carried the state by nine points. Given how heavily defined modern congressional elections are by partisanship and by the increasing focus on national rather than local issues, is this kind of messaging actually effective as a campaign strategy? Do voters really still punish carpetbaggers and reward candidates with deep ties to their districts? Some politics is local New research from my upcoming book, “Home Field Advantage,” shows that the answer is an emphatic “yes.” In the book, I created a “Local Roots Index” for each modern member of the U.S. House of Representatives to measure how deeply rooted they are in the geography of the districts they represent. The index pulled from decades of geographic data about members’ pre-Congress lives, including whether they were born in their home district, went to school there or owned a local business. High index scores meant members had most or all of these life experiences within the boundaries of their district; low scores meant they had little to no local life experience in their district. I found that members of Congress with higher Local Roots Index scores perform far better in their elections than their more “carpetbagging” colleagues without local roots in their districts. Deeply rooted members are twice as likely to run unopposed in their primary elections, and they significantly outperform their party’s presidential nominees in their districts. They win more elections by bigger margins and don’t need to spend as much money to notch their victories. Why do voters care about roots? Why do voters respond positively to deeply rooted candidates and negatively to their carpetbagging counterparts? One explanation is that deep roots offer candidates a number of practical campaign benefits. A deeply rooted candidate tends to have more intimate knowledge of the district, including its electorate, its economy and industries, its unique culture and its political climate. Deeply rooted candidates also enjoy naturally higher name recognition in the community, more extensive social and political networks and greater access to local donors and vendors for their campaigns. Other work has theorized that local roots help candidates tap into a shared identity with their voters that is less tangible but meaningful. Scholars like Kal Munis have shown that when voters have strong psychological attachments to a particular place, it has major impacts on voting behavior. And in a recent survey I conducted with David Fontana, we found that voters consistently rated homegrown U.S. Senate candidates as more relatable and trustworthy, and cast votes for them at higher rates. Just as you’d trust a true born-and-raised local to give you advice about where to eat in town over someone who just moved there, so too do voters trust deeply rooted candidates to represent them in Washington. ‘Intimate sympathy’ with the voters Political science tells us that voters care about candidates’ roots, and we know a bit about why. But should they? Deep ties to a place may create a sense of connection and familiarity that voters appreciate, but at what cost? On the one hand, it’s natural to wonder whether the flood of media and campaign attention to Oz’s residency status is distracting from a discussion of more pressing issues like the economy, climate change and the state of American democracy. There’s also a reasonable concern that a healthy attachment to one’s home place could cross the line into outright nativism and unfair vilification of “outsiders” and immigrants. On the other hand, the framers of the Constitution devised – for better or worse – a geographically focused system of elections and representation. Party is important, but places are different from each other even if they have similar partisan makeups – think San Francisco and New York City – and have different needs. This means having members of Congress who have lived in and understand the place they are elected to represent. As a result, shared local ties could also serve as a line of defense against steadily declining levels of trust in government and politicians. Perhaps locally rooted representation can help imbue a sense of what James Madison and Alexander Hamilton called an “intimate sympathy” with the people – and reinvigorate faith in public officials and institutions. Charles R. Hunt, Assistant Professor of Political Science, Boise State University This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article. Featured image caption: A Fetterman campaign billboard on the New Jersey/Pennsylvania border. Fetterman campaign/