Category: United States
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Students face dropout risk in Trump cuts – Campus Review
President Donald Trump has proposed $980 million in cuts to work-study programs. Picture: Alex Brandon.
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Clean energy research funds under threat – Campus Review
President Donald Trump agreed to a critical minerals deal with Australian Prime Minister Anthony Albanese. Picture: Imago.
There has been much excitement since Australia signed a landmark agreement with the United States last month to expand cooperation on critical minerals and rare earth elements.
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The Widening Gap: Income, College, and Opportunity with Zachary Bleemer
One of the great promises of higher education is that it acts as a social ladder—one that allows students from low-income backgrounds to climb up and reach a higher social and economic status. No one, I think, ever believed it was a guaranteed social leveler, or that children from wealthier families didn’t have an easier time succeeding after college because of their own, and their family’s, social and cultural capital. But most people, in America at least, believed that on the whole it played a positive role in increasing social mobility.
Over the past couple of decades, though, particularly as student debt has increased, people have begun to wonder if this story about social mobility through college is actually true. That’s a hard question to answer definitively. Data sets that track both student origins and outcomes are few and far between, and it’s also difficult to work out what social mobility used to look like in a quantifiable sense.
However, this summer economist Sarah Quincy of Vanderbilt University and Zach Bleemer of Princeton University released a paper called Changes in the College Mobility Pipeline Since 1900. This paper overcame some of those data limitations and took a long, more than century-long, look at the relationship between social mobility and college attendance.
What they found was sobering. Not only is higher education no longer helping poor students catch up with wealthier ones, but in fact the sector’s role as a social elevator actually stopped working almost 80 years ago. This seemed like a perfect story for the podcast, and so we invited Zach Bleemer—who you may remember from an episode on race-conscious admissions about two years ago—to join us to discuss it.
This discussion ranges from the methodological to the expositional. Where does the data come from? What does the data really mean? And are there alternative explanations for the paper’s surprising findings? But enough from me—let’s hear from Zach.
The World of Higher Education Podcast
Episode 4.4 | The Widening Gap: Income, College, and Opportunity with Zachary BleemerTranscript
Alex Usher (AU): Zach, you wrote, with Sarah Quincy, a paper called Changes in the College Mobility Pipeline Since 1900, which looks a long way back. And you argue that the relative premium received by lower-income Americans from higher education has fallen by half since 1960. Take us through what you found—give us the 90-second elevator pitch.
Zachary Bleemer (ZB): Consider kids who were born in 1900 and were choosing whether or not to go to college in the late 1910s and early 1920s. What we were interested in was that choice, and in particular, following people for the next 20 years after they made it. Some people graduated high school but didn’t go to college, while others graduated high school and chose to go.
We wanted to compare the differences in early 1930s wages between those two groups—both for kids from lower-income backgrounds and kids from upper-income backgrounds. Now, you might be surprised to learn that there were lower-income kids going to college in the U.S. in the early 1920s, but there were. About 5 to 10% of people from the bottom parental income tercile even then were attending college.
What we found, when we linked together historical U.S. census records and followed kids forward, is that whether you were low-income or high-income, if you went to college your wages went up a lot. And the degree to which your wages went up was independent of whether you were low-income or high-income—everyone benefited similarly from going to college.
If you compare that to kids born in the 1980s, who were choosing to go to college in the late 1990s and early 2000s, you see a very different story. Everyone still gains from going to college, but kids from rich backgrounds gain a lot more—more than twice as much as kids from poor backgrounds. And that’s despite the fact they’re making the same choice. They’re going to different universities and studying different things, but when it comes down to the 18-year-old making a decision, those from poor families are just getting less from American higher education now than they did in the past—or compared to kids from rich backgrounds.
AU: I want to make sure I understand this, because it’s a crucial part of your argument. When you talk about relative premiums—premium compared to what, and relative compared to what?
ZB: What we always have in mind is the value of college for rich kids, and then asking: how much of that value do poor kids get too? In the early 20th century, and as late as the 1960s, those values were very similar. Lower-income kids were getting somewhere between 80 and 100% of the value of going to college as higher-income kids.
AU: And by “value,” you mean…
ZB: That just means how much your wages go up. So, the wage bump for lower-income kids was very similar to that of higher-income kids. Today, though, it’s more like half—or even a little less than half—of the economic value of college-going that lower-income kids receive compared to higher-income kids.
AU: So in effect, higher education is acting as an engine of greater inequality. That’s what you’re saying?
ZB: I guess it’s worth saying that lower-income kids who go to college are still getting ahead. But it’s not as much of a pipeline as it used to be. Higher education used to accelerate lower-income kids—not to the same level of income as their higher-income peers; they were never going to catch up—but at least they got the same bump, just from a lower starting point.
AU: So the gap widens now. But how do you make a claim like that over 120 years? I mean, I sometimes have a hard time getting data for just one year. How do you track college premiums across a period of 120 years? How sound is the empirical basis for this? You mentioned something about linking data to census records, which obviously go back quite a way. So tell us how you constructed the data for this.
ZB: The first-order answer is that I called up and worked with an economic historian who had much more experience with historical data than I did. Like you said, it’s hard in any period to get high-quality data that links students in high school—especially with information on their parental income—to wage outcomes 10 or 15 years later.
What we did was scan around for any academic or government group over the last 120 years that had conducted a retrospective or longitudinal survey—where you either follow kids for a while, or you find a bunch of 30-year-olds and ask them questions about their childhood. We combined all of these surveys into a comprehensive database.
In the early 20th century, that meant linking kids in the 1920 census, when they were still living with their parents, to the same kids in the 1940 census, when they were in their early thirties and working in the labor market. That link has been well established by economic historians and used in a large series of papers.
By the middle of the 20th century, sociologists were conducting very large-scale longitudinal surveys. The biggest of these was called Project Talent, put together by the American Institutes for Research in 1961. They randomly sampled over 400,000 American high school students, collected a ton of information, and then re-surveyed them between 1971 and 1974 to ask what had happened in their lives.
In more recent years, there’s been a large set of governmental surveys, primarily conducted by the Departments of Labor and Education. Some of these will be familiar to education researchers—like the National Longitudinal Survey of Youth (NLSY). Others are less well known, but there are lots of them. All we did was combine them all together.
AU: I noticed in one of the appendices you’ve got about nine or ten big surveys from across this period. I guess one methodological limitation is that they don’t all follow respondents for the same amount of time, and you’d also be limited to questions where the surveys provided relatively similar answers. You never get your dream data, but those would be the big limitations—you’ve got to look for the similarities, and that restricts you.
ZB: I’d add another restriction. You’re right that, as we filtered down which datasets we could use, the key variables we needed were: parental income when the student was in high school, level of education by age 30, and how much money they made at some point between ages 30 and 35. All of our surveys had those variables.
We also looked for information about what college they attended and what their college major was. Ideally, the surveys also included some kind of high school test—like the SAT or an IQ test—so we could see what kinds of students from what academic backgrounds were going to college.
But there was another key limitation. In most of the data before 1950, it was really difficult to get a direct measure of parental income. Instead, we usually had proxies like parental occupation, industry, or level of education—variables that are highly predictive of income, but not income itself.
So, a lot of the work of the paper was lining up these measures of varying quality from different surveys to make sure the results we report aren’t just noise from mismeasurement, but instead reflect real changes on the ground in American higher education.
AU: So you ran the data and noticed there was a sharp inflection point—or maybe not sharp, but certainly things started to get worse after 1960. When you first saw that, what were your hypotheses? At that point, you’ve got to start looking at whatever variables you can to explain it. What did you think the answer was, and what did you think the confounding variables might be?
ZB: My expectation was that two things would primarily explain the change. My background is in studying undergraduate admissions, so I thought the first explanation would be rising meritocracy in admissions. That might have made it harder for lower-income and lower-testing kids to get access to high-quality education. I also thought changes in affirmative action and in access to selective schools for kids from different backgrounds, along with rising tuition that made it harder for lower-income kids to afford those schools, could have played a big role. That was one possible story.
The second possible story is that it had nothing to do with the causal effect of college at all. Instead, maybe the poor kids who go to college today aren’t as academically strong as they were in the past. Perhaps in the past only the brilliant poor kids went to college, while all the rich kids went regardless of ability. So it could have looked like poor kids were getting a big benefit from college, when in fact those few who made it would have done well anyway.
It turns out neither of these explanations is the primary driver of rising regressivity. On the test score story, it’s always been the case that rich kids who go to college have relatively higher test scores than rich kids who just graduate high school—and that poor kids who go to college have relatively lower scores compared to their peers. That hasn’t changed since 1960.
And on the access story, it’s always been the case that rich kids dominate the schools we now think of as “good”—the fancy private universities and the flagship public universities. But over the last 50 years, poor kids have actually slightly increased their representation at those schools, not the other way around. Rising meritocracy hasn’t pushed poor kids out. If anything, the variety of admissions programs universities have implemented to boost enrollment among racial minority and lower-income students has relatively increased their numbers compared to 1950 or 1960.
AU: You were just making the case that this isn’t about compositional change in where poor students went. I heard you say there are more lower-income students at Harvard, Yale, and MIT than there were 50 or 60 years ago—and I have no doubt that’s true. But as a percentage of all poor students, surely that’s not true. The vast wave of lower-income students, often from minority backgrounds, are ending up in community colleges or non-flagship publics. Surely that has to be part of the story.
ZB: Yes. It turns out there are three primary trends that explain this rising collegiate regressivity, and you just hit on two of them.
The first is exactly your point: lower-income students primarily go to satellite public universities, basically all the non–R1 publics. Higher-income students, if they attend a public university, tend to go to the flagship, research-oriented universities.
I’ll skip talking about Harvard, Yale, and Princeton—almost no one goes to those schools, and they’re irrelevant to the overall landscape.
AU: Because they’re such a small piece of the pie, right?
ZB: Exactly. Fewer than 1% of students attend an Ivy Plus school. They don’t matter when we’re talking about American higher education as a whole. The flagships, though, matter a lot. About a third of all four-year college students go to a research-oriented flagship public university.
What’s happened since 1960 isn’t that poor kids lost access to those schools—it’s that they never really had access in the first place. Meanwhile, those schools have gotten much better over time. If you look at simple measures of university quality—student-to-faculty ratios, instructional expenditures per student, graduation rates—or even our own wage “value-added” measures (the degree to which each university boosts students’ wages), the gap between flagship and non-flagship publics has widened dramatically since the 1960s.
The flagships have pulled away. They’ve gotten more money—both from higher tuition and from huge federal subsidies, in part for research—and they’ve used that money to provide much more value to the students who attend. And those students tend to be higher income.
The second trend is what you mentioned: increasing diversion to community colleges. Interestingly, before 1980, community colleges were already well established in the U.S. and enrolled only slightly more lower-income than higher-income students. They actually enrolled a lot of high-income students, and the gap was small. Since the 1980s, though, that gap has grown substantially. There’s been a huge diversion of lower-income students toward community colleges—and those schools just provide lower-value education to the students who enroll.
AU: At some level this is a sorting story, right? You see that in discussions about American economic geography—that people sort themselves into certain areas. Is that what you’re saying is happening here too?
ZB: It’s not about sorting inside the four-year sector. It’s about sorting between the two- and four-year sectors. And on top of that, we think there’s fundamentally a story about American state governments choosing to invest much more heavily in their flagship publics—turning them into gem schools, amazing schools—while leaving the other universities in their states behind. Those flagships enroll far more higher-income than lower-income students.
AU: When I was reading this paper, one thing that struck me was how hard it is to read about American higher education without also reading something about race. The last time you were on, we were talking about SCOTUS and the Fair Harvard decision. But as far as I can tell, this paper doesn’t talk about race. I assume that goes back to our earlier discussion about data limitations—that race just wasn’t captured at some point. What’s the story there?
ZB: No—we observe race throughout this entire period. In fact, you could basically rewrite our study and ask: how has the relative value of college for white kids compared to Black kids changed over the last hundred years? I suspect you’d see very similar patterns.
The datasets we’re working with observe both parental income and race, but they aren’t large enough to separately analyze, for example, just white students and then compare lower- and higher-income groups over time. There’s a sense in which you could tell our story in terms of race, or you could tell it in terms of class—and both would be right. At a first-order level, both are happening. And within racial groups, the evidence we’ve been able to collect suggests that class gaps have substantially widened over time.
Similarly, we show some evidence that even within the lower-income group there are substantial gaps between white and Black students. So in part, I saw this as an interesting complement to the work I’d already done on race. It points out that while race is part of the story, you can also reframe the entire conversation in terms of America’s higher education system leaving lower-income students behind—irrespective of race.
AU: Right, because it strikes me that 1960 is only six years after Brown v. Board of Education. By the early to mid-1960s, you’d start to see a bigger push of Black students entering higher education, becoming a larger share of the lower-income sector. And a few years later, the same thing with Latino students.
Suddenly lower-income students are not only starting from further behind, but also increasingly made up of groups who, irrespective of education, face discrimination in the labor market. Wouldn’t that pull things down? Wouldn’t that be part of the explanation?
ZB: Keep in mind that when we measure wage premiums, we’re always comparing people who went to college with people who only finished high school. So there are Black students on both sides of that comparison, across both lower- and higher-income groups.
That said, I think your point is well taken. We don’t do any work in the paper specifically looking at changes in the racial composition of students by parental income over this period. One thing we do show is that the test scores of lower-income students who go to college aren’t falling over time. But you’re probably right: while racial discrimination affects both college-goers and non-college-goers, it’s entirely plausible that part of what we’re picking up here is the changing racial dynamics in college-going.
AU: What’s the range of policy solutions we can imagine here, other than, you know, taking money away from rich publics and giving it to community colleges? That’s the obvious one to me, but maybe there are others.
ZB: And not just community colleges—satellite publics as well. I’ve spent the last five years of my life thinking about how to get more disadvantaged students into highly selective universities, and what happens when they get there. The main takeaway from that research is that it’s really hard to get lower-income students into highly selective universities. It’s also expensive, because of the financial aid required.
But once they get into those schools, they tend not only to benefit in terms of long-run wage outcomes, they actually derive disproportionate value. Highly selective schools are more valuable for lower-income kids than for the higher-income kids who typically enroll there.
What I’ve learned from this project, though, is that the closing of higher education’s mobility pipeline isn’t fundamentally about access. It’s about investments—by state governments, by students, by donors, by all the people and organizations that fund higher education. Over time, that funding has become increasingly centralized in schools that enroll a lot of wealthy students.
So, the point you brought up—redirecting funds—is important. In California they call it “rebenching”: siphoning money away from high-funded schools and pushing it toward low-funded schools. There’s very little academic research on what happens when you do that, but our study suggests that this century-long trend of unequal investment has disadvantaged low-income students. Potentially moving in the other direction could make a real difference for them.
AU: Zach, thanks so much for being with us today.
ZB: My pleasure.
AU: It just remains for me to thank our excellent producers, Tiffany MacLennan and Sam Pufek, and you, our listeners and readers, for joining us. If you have any questions or comments about today’s podcast, or suggestions for future editions, don’t hesitate to get in touch at [email protected].
Join us next week when our guest will be Dmitry Dubrovsky, a research scholar and lecturer at Charles University in Prague. He’ll be talking to us about the slow-motion collapse of Russian higher education under Vladimir Putin. Bye for now.
*This podcast transcript was generated using an AI transcription service with limited editing. Please forgive any errors made through this service. Please note, the views and opinions expressed in each episode are those of the individual contributors, and do not necessarily reflect those of the podcast host and team, or our sponsors.
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Where are our young leaders?
Why is it that young leaders are in such short supply?
Former Irish President Mary Robinson recently gave one of the most forceful condemnations of Israel’s war on Gaza. Now the UN High Commissioner for Human Rights, Robinson visited Egypt and the Rafah border and called on states to implement “decisive measures” to halt the genocide and famine in Gaza.
“Governments that are not using all the tools at their disposal to halt the unfolding genocide in Gaza are increasingly complicit,” she said.
Robinson is a member of an organization that calls itself “The Elders.” Founded in 2007 by Nelson Mandela, the South African political prisoner turned president, the group advocates peace, human rights and environmental sustainability.
In her comments, Robinson chided today’s leaders for not fulfilling their legal obligations. “Political leaders have the power and the legal obligation to apply measures to pressure this Israeli government to end its atrocity crimes,” she said.
Robinson is 81 years old. Where are the young leaders making such statements? Where are they organizing groups like The Elders?
Youth power
The media’s attention to Robinson was impressive. Her August press conference was followed by several lengthy interviews on major networks. An independent group like The Elders — whose members include former presidents, UN officials and civil society activists — deserves recognition. It also invites reflection on the role of age in today’s accelerated time.
Being elderly and having once held an important position was not always politically positive. “Don’t trust anyone over 30,” was a popular expression in the 1960s. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. was just 26 when he led the 1955 Montgomery bus boycott and 34 when he delivered his “I Have a Dream” speech during the 1963 Washington rally in front of the Lincoln Memorial. John F. Kennedy was 30 when he was elected to the U.S. Congress and 43 when he was elected president. Student leaders made their marks on U.S. politics in the 1960s.
Mario Savio was 21 when he led the Berkeley Free Speech Movement in California, which demonstrated the political power of student protests.
Mark Rudd was a 20-year-old junior when he led strikes and student sit-ins at Columbia University to push for student involvement in university decision making.
Tom Hayden was 20 when he cofounded Students for a Democratic Society (SDS), a national student movement that opposed the Vietnam War and pushed for a complete reform of the political system. At age 22, he wrote the Port Huron Statement, a political manifesto that called for non-violent student activism and widespread civil disobedience achieve the international peace and economic equality that government leaders had failed to achieve.
Savio, Rudd and Hayden were more than just campus activists; they were front page national news.
Age politics
Where are the student leaders opposing Trump’s attack on universities and freedom of expression now? College presidents, professors and boards of trustees are shouldering the burden. There is a generational vacuum.
Youth and youthful dynamism are no longer viewed as political positives. Today, no one could imagine the 79-year-old Donald Trump playing touch football on a beach in Florida as John F. Kennedy and family did at Hyannis Port on Cape Cod when he was president.
In reality, Kennedy suffered from many serious medical conditions but they were largely hidden from the public; it was crucial that he maintain his youthful image. Trump swinging a golf club and riding in a golf cart is not a youthful image; even his awkward swing shows his age.
Nor are the pictures of the members of his Mar-a-Lago crowd youthful; they look like a meeting of grandparents. As slogans reflecting their times, Make America Great Again is far from the New Frontier which called for an end to poverty and investing in technology and science to send humans to the moon.
Robinson visited the Rafah crossing with another member of The Elders, Helen Clark. Clark is 75 years old, the former Prime Minister of New Zealand and United Nations Development Program administrator.
Generational change
Of her visit Clark said that she was horrified to learn from United Nations Sexual and Reproductive Health Agency that the birth rate in Gaza had dropped by over 40% in the first half of 2025, compared to the same period three years ago. “Many new mothers are unable to feed themselves or their newborn babies adequately, and the health system is collapsing,” Clark said. “All of this threatens the very survival of an entire generation.”
Based on her years of experience, Clark wisely talked of generational change.
Age benefits people who, like Robinson and Clark, have held important positions. Because of that experience, members of The Elders take no political risks by speaking out.
The 83-year-old U.S. Senator Bernie Sanders is a notable exception of an elder speaking out in the United States while still in office. For whatever reasons, the elderly members of the Senate — there are currently seven senators who are in their 80s and 17 are in their 70s — have been particularly silent on issues like Gaza.
In fact, they have been particularly silent on most issues.
Where are the Savio/Rudd/Haydens today? A comparable young leader is Greta Thunberg. Greta was only 15 when she initiated the climate strike movement Fridays for Future. But while Greta initiated the movement, she did not organize it as Tom Hayden did with the formation of the SDS. Thunberg is an important symbol and example of courage — the drone attack on her Gaza-bound “Freedom Flotilla” is beyond reprehensible and consistent with Israel’s total war — but she is not a movement organizer on a national or global level.
What makes statements by people like Robinson and Clark so impressive is that they stand out in a realm of stunning silence.
The New Frontier
The Democratic Party in the United States, for example, has no serious leadership. (The same might be said for Socialists in Europe and the Labour Party in Great Britain.) The Democrats inability to rally around 33-year-old Zohran Mamdani who is running for mayor of New York City is an example of the Party’s cowardice and/or lack of vision.
While the older, established Democrats are quick to criticize Trump, they offer no new strategies or actions.
We are desperately waiting for something new. JFK’s motto The New Frontier touched a foundational American embrace of the frontier, the space between the known and new. Back in 1893, historian Frederick Jackson Turner came up with a theory that the continual expansion of the American frontier westward allowed for continual reinvention and rebirth, and that shaped the character of the American people. This frontier theory is essential to an America’s identity built on always moving forward. In contrast, Trump’s return to the past is anti-frontier. MAGA is nostalgia and passé.
Where are today’s young progressives presenting new political possibilities as Hayden and his cohorts did with Port Huron and SDS? Or does asking that question show that I am being too nostalgic about the past as well?
A version of this article was published previously in the magazine Counterpunch.
Questions to consider:
1. Who are “The Elders” and what are they trying to achieve?
2. What was “The New Frontier” and what did it say about the American character?
3. Do you think you would be more likely to vote for some very old over someone very young for political office? Why?
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There’s all kinds of ways to bleep out speech
This morning we woke to the news that the ABC television network in the United States had suspended late night talk show host Jimmy Kimmel indefinitely over a statement he made about the accused assassin of right-wing political activist Charlie Kirk. In July, the CBS network announced that it would end The Late Show with Stephen Colbert in May. Colbert has for years mocked and criticized Donald Trump. These two announcements got us thinking about all the different ways governments and those in power try to silence speech.
The very first amendment to the U.S. Constitution begins with this phrase:
Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press …
Because of that amendment, the world has long considered the United States the model for free speech — few countries live up to the standard that the United States has historically set. But across the world now, free speech seems to be endangered. So to put into perspective the many ways censorship can occur and in the many places we see this happening, we decided to offer up an assortment of News Decoder stories on this topic by both our professional correspondents and student authors.
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What’s not talked about when you live overseas
The first time someone told me I was “too loud” in Latvia, I laughed. Not because it was funny, but because I genuinely hadn’t realized I was being loud. We were eating pizza one evening at Easy Wine in Riga, and despite being the only one not tipsy on the refreshments, I was still somehow the rowdiest at the table.
I shrank down an inch in my seat. The moment gave me pause. It was oddly familiar, like déjà vu. Everything around me felt almost known, just slightly askew, like it had been tilted on its axis.
The shame of taking up too much space? That I knew. But this time, it didn’t come from being Brown. It came from being American.
In the United States, my race is always top of mind. I’m a university student, and as a Government major, it’s a regular feature of my coursework. Having grown up in a nearly all-White town, I’ve been explaining my identity to others since I could talk.
With nearly two decades of practice under my belt, I’m well-versed in how my skin color and ancestry shape the world around me, and how to articulate that for others. So, the longer I spent in Riga, the more unsettled I felt by how absent race seemed from the conversation.
Conversations not had
Hours spent gazing out the windows of trolleybuses gliding through the city confirmed what I suspected: Riga is not very diverse. Among the small number of people of color I did see, most were other South Asians, like me. In the United States, race is an ever-present topic, whether it’s in political debates, academic syllabi or heated threads on X. In Latvia, it felt like race had slipped out of the cultural vocabulary altogether.
As part of my study abroad program, we often heard from expert guest lecturers. And as each one spoke, a quiet confusion grew inside me: Why is nobody talking about race? I started to feel like a foreign lunatic, playing an internal game of “spot the non-white person” on every street. But the more I searched, the more questions I had. Where was the discussion? Why wasn’t it happening?
So, I brought it up with a friend I’d made in my hostel. Arsh is an Indian student studying mechanical engineering at Riga Technical University. He had been living in the city since February. When I asked if he’d experienced discrimination as a visibly Punjabi Sikh, his answer surprised me.
“No,” he said.
And then he added something that completely shifted my perspective.
“Nobody talks.”
Silence and race
I’d known Latvians were famously quiet, but I’d never considered how that silence might shape their understanding and construction of race.
In the United States, your racial identity is often the first thing people ask about. Strangers want to know what you are and where you’re from. Race in America is personal, political and inescapable. The constant conversation can be both exhausting and empowering: it pushes systems to change, creates space for shared stories of resilience and holds people accountable.
But it also creates a kind of fatigue. As a person of color, you’re constantly on: explaining, reacting, defending. You’re visible, but often through a lens of trauma or tension.
In Latvia, it was different. What I came to think of as a kind of “quiet neutrality” reigned. People didn’t ask where I was from. They didn’t comment on my skin tone. They didn’t bring up diversity or inclusion, mainly because they weren’t speaking to me in the first place.
At first, that silence felt like relief. But eventually, it began to feel like an absence, because bias still exists, even if no one’s talking about it.
The power of passive racism
After speaking with Arsh, I turned to the Internet, searching for other South Asian perspectives on racism in Latvia. I found plenty.
One Quora user bluntly wrote, “Indians are treated like shit here in Latvia.” Another shared that she didn’t know if others felt negatively about her brown skin, but if they did, they didn’t confront her about it. A Redditor described being told to “go back to your own country.” These stories varied wildly from hate crimes to total indifference, but they painted a clear picture: racism existed here. It just didn’t look the same.
Curious to dig deeper, I reached out to Gokul from @lifeinlatviaa on Instagram. A popular Indian content creator who’s lived in Latvia for seven years, Gokul shares his takes on life in the Baltics. Many of his videos humorously cover topics of social culture, stereotypes, education and work. He also co-hosts the podcast Baltic Banter with Brigita Reisone.
When I asked Gokul about his experience, he described the racism in Latvia as mostly “passive.” Latvians, he said, are reserved. “If they don’t like something, they won’t be in your face about it,” he said.
Still, he shared more overt examples, like housing ads that openly say Indians need not call. He noted persistent stereotypes, too: that Brown people are dirty kebab shop owners or delivery drivers.
The familiarity of bias
None of this was unfamiliar to me. I’ve experienced housing discrimination. I’ve been called dirty by a White person. The common style of racism in Latvia was new to me: distant and quiet. In the United States, I once had a tween boy bike past me and mock an Indian accent — it was less traumatic than it was bizarre. There was certainly nothing subtle about it though.
Looking further, I found several reports from Latvian Public Broadcasting documenting hate crimes and prejudice against South Asians. So no, it’s not that racism doesn’t exist in Latvia. It’s that it shows up differently, and more importantly, it’s not widely discussed.
That difference matters.
Race is fluid and contextual; its meaning shifts with time, place and history. In the United States, racism is foundational. It began with colonization and slavery, extending through the systemic injustice known as Jim Crow in the 19th and 20th centuries, to modern-day Islamophobia and racial profiling by police. Racial violence and resistance are woven into the country’s DNA.
Latvia’s history tells a different story. Latvia is a nation shaped more by being colonized than by colonizing. Ethnic Latvians have fought for sovereignty under foreign rule, whether by Germans or Soviets. Today, its population is overwhelmingly White, and ethnic tensions tend to focus on Latvians and Russians, or Roma communities. Immigration is relatively new here, so the language to talk about race may simply not have developed yet.
And that brings me back to volume.
In the United States, being loud is often classed and racialized as “trashy,” especially when tied to communities of color. In Latvia, loudness is framed differently: it’s seen as a kind of cultural rudeness. It’s not about being Brown, it’s about being foreign. And because everyone is generally quieter, the social cues around race, identity and belonging shift, too.
Little things like volume, friendliness and eye contact build the scaffolding around how race is perceived in different societies. They may seem like surface-level quirks, but they shape deep-rooted assumptions.
And they remind us: racism may look different in various places, but it doesn’t disappear. It just changes form. And recognizing that change is the first step to dismantling it.
Questions to consider:
1. Why do many people outside the United States connect loudness with being American?
2. Why was the author troubled about the lack of conversation about racism in Latvia?
3. What kind of conversations do you have about race and do they make you feel more or less comfortable?
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How important could one court be?
A polarized electorate
The first Italo-American to serve on the Supreme Court, Scalia had been appointed by Ronald Reagan, a Republican president. Of the eight remaining justices, four were appointed by Republican presidents and four by Democrats.
Both parties recognize that Scalia’s successor could tip the scales in close votes. Cases currently before the Court involve climate change, affirmative action, abortion, unions, immigrants and contraception — issues where the electorate is deeply divided.
Although the Constitution stipulates that the president nominates Supreme Court justices, Republican candidates for the presidency have said the choice of Scalia’s successor should be left to whoever succeeds Barack Obama in the White House next January. Obama, a Democrat, has said he will send a nomination to the Senate in due course.
That partisan split can be explained by the weight of the Court’s decisions and the polarization of the U.S. electorate.
Whereas historically the two major parties have been able to agree, sometimes begrudgingly, on the choice of justices, the process has become far more partisan and divisive in recent decades.
Unfavorable opinions
The gaping ideological split in the current Congress and an increasingly vitriolic presidential campaign ensure a bitter fight in coming months.
The political acrimony was reflected in a nationwide poll conducted last year by the Pew Research Center.
Following recent Supreme Court rulings on Obamacare and same-sex marriage, unfavorable opinions of Court have reached a 30-year high, the survey found. And opinions about the court and its ideology have never been more politically divided.
“Republicans’ views of the Supreme Court are now more negative than at any point in the past three decades,” it said. Little wonder that Republican presidential candidates are keen to put a conservative in the vacant seat.
While the Supreme Court is an independent branch of government, its composition is not — and has never been — immune from politics. The nomination of justices is part of the system of checks and balances.
But at the end of the day, the system requires the willingness of voters and their representatives to adhere to laws, executive orders and court rulings, however deep the political divide. If that faith ever crumbled, the U.S. experiment in democracy would be under threat.
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Designed in California but made … all over the world
Most of us spend a good part of our lives glued to our iPhone or other similar devices. It seems as if we cannot survive without being connected to cyberspace.
It turns out that Apple, a U.S.-based company which makes the iPhone and depends on its sale, cannot survive without being connected to China, which is a key partner in the production of most every iPhone that people use. And that puts the iPhone at the center of the great power struggle underway between the United States and China.
One of the earliest insights into iPhone production came along in 2010 thanks to research by economists Yuqing Xing and Neal Detert. They lifted the veil off the mystery behind the iPhone label “Designed by Apple in California, Assembled in China”.
The iPhone model 3G was indeed designed in Cupertino, California, by Apple. But the vast majority of components were sourced from Japan, South Korea, Germany and elsewhere in the United States. All iPhone components were then shipped for assembly to Foxconn, a Taiwanese contract manufacturer based in Shenzhen, China.
Less than 4% of the iPhone manufacturing value came from the assembly in China.
Manufacturing capability
The iPhone was only first launched in 2007, and iPhones were not sold in China until late 2009. At the time, there was no production of Chinese smartphones. Since those days, the iPhone and other smartphones have become ubiquitous in modern life. Apple now sells 230 million iPhones annually, each one of which has one thousand components and about 90% of them are produced in China.
Financial Times journalist Patrick McGee, in his recent book “Apple in China“, explained how Apple began assembling iPhones in China for its cheap labour costs but that came with a different cost: China’s labour was not of high quality.
In contrast to the general impression, China does not have great vocational training systems. So Apple became China’s vocational school.
Although Apple did not own any factories, it assumed close control over the factories of Foxconn and other companies to ensure its traditional perfectionist quality control. This included sending over planeloads of high-level engineers from the United States to train Chinese workers and investing in machinery for production lines.
Further, while components from foreign companies are still used in Apple products, these companies are now increasingly based in China. Over time Chinese companies have played a growing role in the production of the iPhone and other devices. Workers from all these companies have also been trained by Apple engineers.
Over the past decade, Apple invested some $55 billion a year for staff training and machinery. Since 2008, 28 million Chinese have received training from Apple — a figure larger than the workforce of California.
Human capital
But there is more to China’s human capital than training offered by Apple. A key element has been China’s investment in human capital more generally, notably education and health.
Chinese students participating in the OECD’s Programme for International Student Assessment — from Beijing, Shanghai, Jiangsu and Zhejiang, collectively home to nearly 200 million people — have outperformed the majority of students from other education systems, including the United States.
China has also made extraordinary progress in lifting its life expectancy, which is now the same as that of the United States at 78 years, even though the gross domestic product per capita in the United States — a key measure of the economic health of a country — at $83,000, is more than six times that of China. For the first time, China has overtaken the United States in healthy life expectancy at birth, according to World Health Organization data.
Apple CEO Tim Cook has said that there is a popular conception that companies come to China because of low labour cost. Cook argues that the truth is China stopped being a low labor cost country many years ago.
He insists that Apple is motivated by the quantity and type of skill that China offers. For example, while it requires really advanced tooling engineers, Cook is not sure the United States could fill a room with such engineers, while in China you could fill multiple football fields. Such vocational expertise is now very, very deep in China.
India and the United States
U.S. President Donald Trump insists that Apple must “reshore” its production to the United States. This is not realistic. The United States does not have the capacity to produce Apple’s products at scale and at competitive cost. It most certainly does not have the same competitive cost, well-trained engineering workforce as China, which has some three million people working in Apple’s supply chain.
Under Trump 1.0, Apple made a commitment to build “three big, beautiful factories” (in Trump’s words) in the United States. But that was just hot air, as none were built. Now, Trump has threatened to impose a 25% tariff on iPhones if they are not made in the United States.
In response, Apple said that phones sold there would be labelled “Made in India” (although this is unacceptable for Trump), and has pledged to invest $500 billion in the United States. What this pledge means in reality is still unclear. Apple may ultimately need to build a token factory or two, with limited production functions, to pander to Trump.
Many commentators are suggesting India as an alternative production base for Apple. And some assembly functions are indeed being shifted to India. But these are just the very final assembly phase of production, which are sufficient to justify attaching an “Assembled in India” label.
All the pre-assembly activities remain in China. At this stage, India is not a viable option for replacing China because of deficiencies in human capital, infrastructure and logistics systems.
A close partnership
In many ways, modern China and Apple have made each other.
Technology and knowledge transfer have underpinned China’s growing contribution to the iPhone and other Apple products — as well as the Chinese smartphone brands like Huawei, Xiaomi and Oppo, which now dominate world markets. Moreover, Chinese engineers are capable of building all sorts of electronic products, some of which could be used in military conflicts.
In sum, Apple has made a major contribution to the rise of China as a technological powerhouse. China has been a key factor in the rise of Apple as one of the world’s most successful companies. Apple has a Chinese system for producing the iPhone and other products that works like a song.
No other country has the human capital, and production and logistics systems for producing Apple products at scale and at a competitive cost. Thus, Apple is in a way now trapped in China, which makes it vulnerable to coercion from China’s authoritarian government.
It should try to make greater efforts to de-risk itself from China, although that is not easy and might provoke the ire of the Chinese authorities.
Apple now finds itself caught between a rock and a hard place — meaning President Xi and President Trump.
Questions to consider:
1. Where is the iPhone made?
2. What would make a device that is made outside the United States more expensive to buy in the United States?
3. Should people be able to buy anything from anywhere without any extra costs from governments? Why?
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The guardians of the exosphere
Not many military forces have ranks and uniforms that were inspired by science fiction. The U.S. Space Force (USSF) has both. Their dress uniform is described by the U.S. Armed Forces Super Store as “a deep navy, representing the vastness of space” and the jacket’s buttons are diagonal and off centre with the logo of the Space Force.
Members of the Space Force are known as Guardians, a term that will be familiar to fans of the animated superhero series where extraterrestrial criminals unite to preserve the galaxy.
But the Space Force has a real and serious purpose. After being discussed for several decades, it was created in 2019 and tasked with protecting the United States from threats in space with the motto, “Semper supra,” which is Latin for “Always above.”
As the USSF mission statement explains, “From GPS to strategic warning and satellite communications, we defend the ultimate high ground.”
Despite its vast mission, there are fewer than 10,000 Guardians — enlisted women and men and officers — making it the smallest wing of the U.S. military.
Detecting missiles and other objects
Like all nations, the United States relies on critical infrastructure and everyday business that is now dependent on satellites which enable navigation, weather forecasting, earth observation, communication and intelligence.
Before the formation of the Space Force, monitoring satellites was part of the duties of the U.S. Air Force. Now the U.S. Space Force has taken over many of those duties and is dedicated solely to operating and protecting assets which operate in space. Their mission also includes operating the Ballistic Missile Early Warning System which is designed for advanced missile detection.
The USSF currently has six bases in the continental United States and one base outside of the country. Located in Greenland, it is its most northerly base. Previously known as Thule Base, in 2023 it reverted to its traditional name Pituffik.
In March 2025, Pituffik base hosted a visit by U.S. Vice President J.D. Vance following statements by President Trump that he wanted to “buy Greenland”.
Donald Trump was not the first American president who wanted to buy Greenland. In 1946 President Truman made a similar offer to Denmark, the colonial power. Denmark turned him down — the Greenlanders had no say in those days as a colony. Now Greenland is an autonomous territory of Denmark and all Greenlanders are Danish citizens.
Eyes on the skies
But even in 1946, there was already a U.S. base in Greenland, built during World War Two during the years that Denmark was occupied by Nazi Germany. Thule Base was America’s most northerly deepwater port and runway and supported Allied naval operations against the Nazi threat.
Now, 80 years on, the base can monitor not only space activities, but the expansion of Russian government activities in the Arctic region. Climate change is expected to enable an ice-free Northwest Passage in the coming decades when traffic in shipping could rival the Suez Canal.
Now, with the addition of the Space Force to Pituffik Base in Greenland, the sea sky as well as space will be closely monitored.
The location of Pituffik is not only strategically placed to keep an eye on Russian and Chinese space activities, but to monitor polar orbiting satellites. These observation satellites, which orbit north to south, make a full orbit every 92 minutes. In addition to civilian and scientific satellites, which provide data on land, sea and atmosphere, there are military satellites which are classified.
The vast majority of military satellites that are operated by the United States are believed to number around 250 which is more than the total of Russian and Chinese military satellites. Military observers believe many of these satellites are monitored from Pituffik.
Nobody wants a war in space.
The idea of a space force had been discussed for decades because “nobody wants a war in space” according to Major General John Shar, the commander of space operations for the U.S. Space Force. Shar compared the need for the United States to operate military space operations to ocean-going nations wanting a navy.
Several other countries agree. France, Canada and Japan have created their own versions of a space force to deter threats in space.
French President Macron announced the creation of a space command in 2019. The force is being established in tandem with the French Air Force. As one of the leading space nations in the world, the force will protect French satellites. French aerospace companies are currently designing a new generation of satellites reportedly designed to carry lasers and possibly even guns.
The Canadian Space Division, a division of the Royal Canadian Air Force, provides “space-based support of military operations” and “defending and protecting military space capabilities” according to their mission statements.
Japan’s Space Operations Group is part of the Japan Air and Space Self-Defense Force unit based in Tokyo. Japan, also a leading space nation, is building many earth observation and surveillance satellites. Many of their astronauts from JAXA, the Japan Aerospace Exploration Agency, have flown missions on the International Space Station.
The Japanese have also taken on a wider mission, beyond a national military focus. They are enhancing their capability for Space Domain Awareness in order to focus on the increasing risk of collisions with satellites caused by space debris.
Earth’s satellite infrastructure can be substantially damaged by space debris orbiting at an average speed of 17,500 mph. It’s not only cyberattacks and targeted satellite destruction that can cause serious global disruption.
The United States, France, Japan and Canada point out that any new satellites and any activities from the respective space forces will stay within the strictures of the International Outer Space Treaty which outlaws testing nuclear weapons or weapons of mass destruction in space.
If space around the earth and beyond can remain a peaceful place, perhaps the designation of “Guardian” for the U.S. Space Force is appropriate.
Questions to consider:
1. In what ways does science fiction inspire ideas that are useful for humanity?
2. What should nations not be allowed to do in space?
3. Would you join a space force in your country to help monitor and protect space activities?
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The politics of representation
When I searched for Sarah McBride’s name on March 12, the first thing I saw was a story about a member of the U.S. Congress calling her “Mr. McBride” in an official hearing.
Ms. McBride is the first congressional representative in United States history to be openly transgender.
Since 18 November 2024, when McBride was elected to Congress, I’ve seen dozens of articles in which the only thing in question is her gender identity. It’s funny that Republicans in the U.S. Congress have made such a fuss over McBride’s gender, while McBride – the only congressperson representing the state of Delaware – has done nothing of the sort.
For someone so polarised and one-dimensional by the media, McBride seems intent on collaboration.
Delawareans have been overwhelmingly supportive of McBride. A University of Delaware poll, which recorded the pre-election numbers, had McBride at 52% of the vote, while her opponent, John Whalen, received 30%. Sarah McBride ended up with a 58% return, which could be considered a landslide.
This starkly contrasted primaries across the country, with many states flipping Republican, that had gone Democrat in 2020.
So, what’s the difference between Delaware and McBride, compared to the rest of the nation?
What voters care about
For starters, Delaware, where I live, is minuscule compared to its sister states. These conditions make Delaware not only ideal grounds to break history on, but also the only place it could have happened for McBride.
Delaware does not boast a large number of gay and trans people. A UCLA poll found that only 4.5% of citizens in Delaware are queer and trans and over half are under voting age. By and large, McBride was elected by a primarily straight electorate.
This election did not contrast with the national sentiment of Democrats. A Pew Research study found that about 64% of Americans believe trans people should be protected from discrimination when it comes to employment, housing, and education. Additionally, democrats had even stronger support of the notion that gender is not assigned at birth.
Simply put, Delaware and McBride are a good fit.
McBride is calm, composed, and focusing on her Delaware constituents more than anything else. In fact, she is the first freshman democrat in the 119th Congress to bring a bill to the floor. A bipartisan bill protecting consumers from credit appraisal scams.
Opposition from Republicans
Some congressional Republicans prefer to call McBride names rather than work to make a stronger nation.
Describing McBride’s welcome to D.C. can be summarized in two words: Political Theatre.
On McBride’s first visit to D.C., she was greeted by a ban on the use of bathrooms in the house by transgender people brought forward by Republican Congresswoman Nancy Mace. This pointed attack by Representative Mace didn’t seem to affect McBride, who was more focused on: “Delivering on the issues that keep Delawareans up at night.”
In recent months, McBride has been subject to even more unwarranted scrutiny and misnomers from her republican colleagues.
I spoke with McBride to hear her plans for Delaware, her response to President Trump’s actions, and what she has accomplished thus far in her congressional term.
Jack McConnel: What was your main reason to run for congressional office?
Sarah McBride: So my interest in politics was really rooted in my own journey to authenticity as a young person, as someone growing up here in Delaware, I was scared. I wondered whether the heart of this country was big enough to love someone like me.
And I faced a crisis of hope. And in that crisis of hope, I went searching for solutions and examples of our world becoming kinder and fairer. And I found a little glimmer of hope as I read history books and saw the through line of every chapter was a story of advocates, activists and a handful of courageous and effective elected officials working together to right the wrongs of our past, to address injustice, to bring people from the shadows and the margins of society into the circle of opportunity.
I ultimately decided to run for office, though, in 2019 for the state Senate was really the byproduct of my experience as a caregiver to my husband during his battle with terminal cancer.
Because I know despite the fact that Andy lost his life to cancer, I know how lucky we were. I know how lucky he was to have health insurance that allowed him to get care that prolonged his life. And I know how lucky both of us were to have flexibility with our jobs that allowed him to focus on the full-time job of getting care and me to focus on the full-time job of caring for him.
McConnel: What are you most proud of so far in your term?
McBride: First is that I’ve introduced multiple bipartisan bills.
One with [California Republican] Young Kim that provides consumer protections for Americans against the predatory practices of so-called credit repair organizations.
The second more recently with [Republican] Representative Mike Lawler from New York, which protects farmers and in so doing helps to lower costs for Delawareans at the grocery store by investing in combating avian flu.
McConnel: How do you think the Democratic party should respond to the results of the 2024 election?
McBride: What we can do is we can help to mobilize the public against [President Donald Trump]. Public opinion still matters. We are still under democracy. These people still care about their popularity. They still care about the next election and the goal in this moment as we defend Medicaid in the short run.
The goal in this moment also has to be to make sure that this president, that the public understands the harms that this president is inflicting on people of every political persuasion across the country. As the public mobilizes against this president, it throws sand in the gears of an authoritarian machine that slows it down, that extends the runway of our democracy so that we can get to the next election and get to the next election.
McConnel: How do you plan on responding to these movements?
McBride: Fighting back against that is at the top of my priority list at this moment. In the longer term, obviously, there is an answer to your question, a real effort by this president to illegally and unconstitutionally consolidate power to essentially create absolute power.
I mean, his first step is to employ what’s called the unitary executive theory, which is absolute authority within the executive branch under the purview of Congress. But he’s also clearly trying to undermine the main power of Congress, the power of the purse. He’s questionable about whether he’s going to listen to the Supreme Court and when all is said and done, making sure that we can’t stop every action by this president. The results of the last election give us limited institutional levers.
McConnel: Thank you, Representative McBride.
The main concern McBride reiterated again and again was what she was doing for the Delawareans who elected her. McBride took every opportunity during our interview to highlight the issues most relevant to her constituents. She talked to me about the effort to defund programs Delawareans rely on.
When asked about what the Democratic Party should be doing going forward, McBride said that Democrats have lost the “art of social change” and that they must be willing to meet people where they are and engage in conversations where people disagree. She pointed towards the 2026 midterms as a place to build momentum towards.
McBride said when Democrats try to sound the alarm about everything the president is doing, it dilutes the effect of the message. “We can’t ever go to 10 if we’re always at 10,” she said.
McBride’s goal? Slow down Trump where she can and build support going into 2026.
Questions to consider:
1. In what way does Representative Sarah McBride get treated differently than her Congressional colleagues?
2. What did Delaware voters care about when they voted to elected McBride to Congress?
3. If you were to vote for a government representative, what issues do you most want that person to tackle?
