Author: MIL-OSI Publisher

Source: The Conversation – USA (3) – By John R. Blosnich, Associate Professor of Social Work, University of Southern California

As part of the Trump administration’s efforts aimed at stopping diversity, equity and inclusion, the government has been restricting how it monitors public health. Along with cuts to federally funded research, the administration has targeted public health efforts to gather information about sexual orientation and gender identity.

In the early days of the second Trump administration, the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention took down data and documents that included sexual orientation and gender identity from its webpages. For example, data codebooks for the Behavioral Risk Factor Surveillance System were replaced with versions that deleted gender identity variables. The Trump administration also ordered the CDC to delete gender identity from the National Violent Death Reporting System, the world’s largest database for informing prevention of homicide and suicide deaths.

For many people, sexual orientation and gender identity may seem private and personal. So why is personal information necessary for public health?

Decades of research have shown that health problems affect some groups more than others. As someone who has studied differences in health outcomes for over 15 years, I know that one of the largest health disparities for LGBTQ+ people is suicide risk. Without data on sexual orientation and gender identity, public health cannot do the work to sound the alarm on and address issues that affect not just specific communities, but society as a whole.

Alarms and benchmarks

Health is determined by the interplay of several factors, including a person’s genetics, environment and personal life. Of these types of health information, data on personal lives can be the most difficult to collect because researchers must rely on people to voluntarily share this information with them. But details about people’s everyday lives are critical to understanding their health.

Consider veteran status. Without information that identifies which Americans are military veterans, the U.S. would never have known that the rate of suicide deaths among veterans is several times higher than that of the general population. Identifying this problem encouraged efforts to reduce suicide among veterans and military service personnel.

Studying the rates of different conditions occurring in different groups of people is a vital role of public health monitoring. First, rates can set off alarm bells. When people are counted, it becomes easier to pick up a problem that needs to be addressed.

Second, rates can be a benchmark. Once the extent of a health problem is known, researchers can develop and test interventions. They can then determine if rates of that health problem decreased, stayed the same or increased after the intervention.

My team reviewed available research on how sexual orientation and gender identity are related to differences in mortality. The results were grim.

Of the 49 studies we analyzed, the vast majority documented greater rates of death from all causes for LGBTQ+ people compared with people who aren’t LGBTQ+. Results were worse for suicide: Nearly all studies reported that suicide deaths were more frequent among LGBTQ+ people. A great deal of other research supports this finding.

Without data on sexual orientation and gender identity, these issues are erased.

Lost data costs everyone

Higher death rates among LGBTQ+ people affect everyone, not just people in the LGBTQ+ community. And when suicide is a major driver of these death rates, the costs increase.

There are societal costs. Deaths from suicide result in lost productivity and medical services that cost the U.S. an estimated $484 billion per year. There are also human costs. Research suggests that for every suicide death, about 135 people are directly affected by the loss, experiencing grief, sadness and anger.

President Donald Trump’s targeting of research on sexual orientation and gender identity comes at a time when more Americans than ever – an estimated 24.4 million adults – identify as lesbian, gay, bisexual or transgender. That’s more than the entire population of Florida.

LGBTQ+ people live in every state in the country, where they work as teachers, executives, janitors, nurses, mechanics, artists and every other profession or role that help sustain American communities. LGBTQ+ people are someone’s family members, and they are raising families of their own. LGBTQ+ people also pay taxes to the government, which are partly spent on monitoring the nation’s health.

Stopping data collection of sexual orientation and gender identity does not protect women, or anyone else, as the Trump administration claims. Rather, it serves to weaken American public health. I believe counting all Americans is the path to a stronger, healthier nation because public health can then do its duty of detecting when a community needs help.

John R. Blosnich receives funding from the National Institutes of Health. He is affiliated with the U.S. Department of Veterans Affairs (VA), however all time and effort into writing this piece was done outside of his work with the VA. The opinions expressed are those of Dr. Blosnich and do not necessarily represent those of his institution, funders, or any affiliations.

– ref. Data on sexual orientation and gender is critical to public health – without it, health crises continue unnoticed – https://theconversation.com/data-on-sexual-orientation-and-gender-is-critical-to-public-health-without-it-health-crises-continue-unnoticed-255380

Source: The Conversation – USA (3) – By Katherine LeMasters, Assistant Professor of Medicine, University of Colorado Boulder

Colorado passed the Fentanyl Accountability and Prevention Bill in May 2022. The legislation made the possession of small amounts of fentanyl a felony, rather than a misdemeanor.

Felonies are more likely than misdemeanors to result in a prison sentence.

Time in prison is associated with an increased risk of fatal overdose in the year after release. People with felonies on their record often struggle to find a job or rent an apartment.

In 2023, lawmakers in 46 states passed legislation similar to Colorado’s. They introduced more than 600 bills related to fentanyl criminalization and enacted over 100 other laws to attempt to curb the opioid epidemic.

Possession of small amounts of ketamine, GHB and other criminalized drugs is also a felony in Colorado.

I’m an assistant professor of medicine, social epidemiologist and community researcher who studies mass incarceration as a public health threat. I am a member of the Right Response Coalition, which advocates for community rather than criminal-legal responses to behavioral health needs in Colorado. Recently, my work has focused on how increasing criminal penalties for fentanyl possession in Colorado affects the individuals and communities most impacted by such laws.

Our team conducted 31 interviews with Colorado policymakers, peer support specialists, law enforcement, community behavioral health providers and people providing behavioral health in prisons and jails to explore a variety of perspectives on Colorado’s Fentanyl Accountability and Prevention Bill and the role of the criminal-legal system in addressing substance use and overdose.

Most of our interviewees agreed that criminalization alone wouldn’t solve the opioid epidemic.

“You can’t incarcerate yourself to sobriety,” said a rural law enforcement officer. “You can’t incarcerate yourself out of the drug problem in America.”

Criminalization of drug use

Incarceration and substance use are deeply intertwined. The U.S. houses one-quarter of the world’s incarcerated population – largely due to policies created during the “war on Drugs” of the 1980s. The war on drugs included mandatory minimum sentencing for drug-related charges and “three strikes” laws that lengthened sentences after multiple charges.

Today, one-fifth of the U.S. incarcerated population has a drug-related charge.

Incarceration is often seen as a deterrent, but research shows it is not actually associated with reduced drug use. Instead, people recently released from incarceration are more likely to die of a fatal overdose and face a high likelihood of reincarceration.

Perspectives of front-line workers

All 31 of the participants in our study supported policies to prevent fentanyl overdoses. However, most thought that use of police and incarceration as avenues to do so was misguided.

We spoke to some individuals who felt the bill was appropriate, but most felt that increased criminalization perpetuates stigma against people who use drugs. They also saw the law as ignoring the root causes of the opioid epidemic, which include a lack of voluntary community-based treatment options. They also said the law creates stressful law enforcement encounters that can perpetuate drug use as a coping mechanism.

“It just seems like there’s no getting away from [the police], they’re everywhere,” said an urban peer support specialist. “I got arrested by the same cops, I don’t know how many times. And then it makes you want to try to be avoidant or run because they’re not going to help you.”

Participants worried that the policy has an inadvertent chilling effect, deterring individuals from calling 911 when an overdose occurs.

“Most people with substance abuse are not trying to report anything or get help for fear of going to jail,” one rural provider said. “It’s so stigmatized that everyone’s just scared to do that.”

Participants largely thought that counties were using incarceration as a default treatment setting and that it wasn’t an ideal solution.

“[I] don’t want to see [people] incarcerated, but I don’t want ‘em to die either,” said an urban peer support specialist.

The people we interviewed pointed to a lack of community-based care options that could come before people are incarcerated. Those options include substance use treatment centers, mental health services and community health centers.

Substance use treatment

Colorado’s fentanyl bill did more than just increase penalties. It also provided additional funding for a state naloxone program and required that all jails provide medications for opioid use disorder.

These medications include methadone, buprenorphine and extended-release naltrexone. All are part of an established public health strategy shown to reduce overdose deaths and opioid use. They’re also shown to increase engagement with non-jail-based treatment and reduce reincarceration.

However, jail capacity and the lack of treatment options based in one’s community play a large role in which medications are offered and to whom. For example, only 11 out of Colorado’s 46 counties with a county jail have an opioid treatment program in the community that can dispense methadone. Therefore, some facilities do not offer all medications, or only offer medications to individuals with an active prescription or to certain populations such as pregnant people.

Investing in community solutions

Based on our study’s findings, my study co-authors and I believe increased criminal penalties should not be the solution for linking individuals to treatment. Instead, there should be more investment in long-term community solutions.

One such solution is Denver’s Substance Use Navigation Program. The program sends behavioral health specialists to emergency calls to prevent legal involvement when someone is experiencing distress related to mental health, poverty, homelessness or substance use. In many cases, those individuals are then routed to services rather than jails.

Our findings also lead us to believe there is a need for more participatory policymaking processes when it comes to fentanyl legislation, and that policymakers should more closely work with the people who will be most impacted by new legislation. Most of our participants agree.

“[I] don’t think that [the] state realized how difficult it is,” said a rural provider about giving medication-assisted treatment in jail, an increasing need as more people are arrested for fentanyl possession. “They probably should come here and visit us.”

Katherine LeMasters received funding from the Colorado Department of Human Services, Behavioral Health Administration. Katherine LeMasters is part of the Right Response Coalition.

– ref. Colorado’s fentanyl criminalization bill won’t solve the opioid epidemic, say the people most affected – https://theconversation.com/colorados-fentanyl-criminalization-bill-wont-solve-the-opioid-epidemic-say-the-people-most-affected-256661

Source: The Conversation – USA (3) – By Charles J. Russo, Joseph Panzer Chair in Education and Research Professor of Law, University of Dayton

A century ago, the Supreme Court handed down one of its most important cases about education. On June 1, 1925, the court struck down an Oregon statute requiring all students to attend public school – a law critics argued was meant to limit faith-based schools, at a time when anti-Catholic bias was still common in parts of the United States.

The majority opinion in Pierce v. Society of Sisters of the Holy Name of Jesus and Mary included a now-famous dictum about parents’ rights to shape their children’s upbringing. According to the court, “the child is not the mere creature of the state; those who nurture him and direct his destiny have the right, coupled with the high duty, to recognize and prepare him for additional obligations.”

Soon, the Supreme Court is expected to release another decision around parental beliefs and education: Mahmoud v. Taylor. The plaintiffs are parents who want to excuse their children from public school lessons involving storybooks with LGBTQ+ characters – lessons they assert contradict their religious beliefs.

As someone who teaches education law, I believe this is perhaps the court’s most significant case on parental rights since Pierce. Mahmoud raises questions not only about religious freedom, but also about educators’ ability to determine curricula, and public education in a pluralistic society.

Picture-book debate

Controversy arose during the 2022-23 school year in Montgomery County, Maryland’s largest school district, when officials approved various storybooks with LGBTQ+-inclusive themes to be incorporated into the English language-arts curriculum for preschool and elementary students.

Some parents challenged the materials, including “Pride Puppy!”, a picture book the board later removed from use. Originally approved for preschool and pre-K, the story portrays a family whose puppy gets lost at a LGBTQ+ Pride parade, devoting a page to each letter of the alphabet. At the end of the book, a long “search and find” list of words for children to go back and look for in the pictures of the parade includes “[drag] queen” and “king,” “leather” and “lip ring.”

Other materials for older children included stories about same-sex marriage, a transgender child and nonbinary bathroom signs.

Parents who objected to the use of these materials on religious grounds sought to excuse their children from lessons using them. The parents basically argued that requiring their children to participate compelled or coerced them to go against their families’ religious beliefs.

Initially, officials agreed to allow opt-outs for elementary schoolers whose parents objected to the materials. However, a day later they changed their minds. Since then, school officials cited concerns about absenteeism, the feasibility of accommodating opt-out requests, and a desire to avoid stigmatizing LGBTQ+ students or families as reasons for their policy.

A group of Muslim, Orthodox Christian and Catholic families challenged the board’s refusal to excuse their children from lessons using the disputed materials.

The federal trial court, however, rejected the parents’ claim that having no opt-outs violated their right to due process.

Parents appealed, and the 4th Circuit affirmed in favor of the school board 2-1. The court added that officials had not violated the parents’ First Amendment rights to freely exercise their faith. “There’s no evidence at present that the Board’s decision not to permit opt-outs compels the Parents or their children to change their religious beliefs or conduct, either at school or elsewhere,” the panel concluded.

The dissenting judge stridently countered. Officials violated the parents’ free exercise rights by forcing them “to make a choice,” he wrote, between “either adher[ing] to their faith, or receiv[ing] a free public education for their children.” He also noted that the board’s opt-out policy was not neutral toward religion, because under Maryland regulations, children may be excused from sex-ed lessons.

In January 2025, the Supreme Court agreed to hear the parents’ appeal, addressing whether the schools are burdening parents’ free-exercise rights.

Court record

In their brief to the Supreme Court and oral arguments, the parents cited Wisconsin v. Yoder, a Supreme Court ruling from 1972. The court found that Amish parents did not have to send their children to school after the eighth grade, which the families argued would violate their religious beliefs. Amish communities descend from Anabaptist Christians who fled persecution in Europe and emphasize living simply, eschewing many modern technologies.

In Yoder, the justices agreed with the parents that their children received all the education they needed in their home communities. Under the First Amendment, parents have the right “to guide the religious future and education of their children,” the majority wrote, a matter “established beyond debate.”

During oral arguments for Mahmoud in April 2025, some justices briefly discussed another precedent: the Supreme Court’s 1943 judgment in West Virginia State Board of Education v. Barnette, resolved at the height of U.S. involvement in World War II. Here, three parents who were Jehovah’s Witnesses refused to have their children participate in public schools’ flag salute and Pledge of Allegiance because they viewed it as a form of idolatry contrary to their religious beliefs. Others objected
to the salute as “being too much like Hitler’s.”

The court reasoned that educators could not compel students to participate, because forcing children – or anyone – to engage in activities inconsistent with their beliefs is contrary to their First Amendment rights to the free exercise of religion and freedom of speech.

Viewed together, these cases highlight how the court has granted parents significant leeway to exempt their children from educational activities inconsistent with their religious beliefs.

Questions at court

During oral arguments, a majority of justices appeared to support the parents’ request to excuse children from lessons involving the books about LGBTQ+ characters.

The board’s attorney argued that students did not have to agree with the books’ messages, simply to participate in the lesson. Being exposed to an idea “does not burden free exercise,” he said.

Chief Justice John Roberts, however, queried whether it is realistic for 5-year-olds to understand that distinction. He asked, “Do you want to say you don’t have to follow the teacher’s instructions, you don’t have to agree with the teacher? I mean, that may be a more dangerous message than some of the other things.”

Other conservative justices also appeared skeptical of the idea that the lessons were merely exposing young children to ideas, but not instilling moral lessons. The storybooks do not simply explain that some people believe something and others do not, Justice Amy Coney Barrett suggested; they inform students that “this is the right view of the world.” Similarly, Justice Neil Gorsuch remarked that telling students that “some people think X, and X is wrong and hurtful and negative” is “more than exposure.”

“What is the big deal about allowing them to opt out of this?” Justice Samuel Alito asked.

Conversely, Justice Elena Kagan acknowledged that parents’ concerns were “serious,” but wondered how to draw limits on opt-out policies. Did the parents’ argument suggest that anytime “a religious person confronts anything in a classroom that conflicts with her religious beliefs or her parents’ that – that the parent can then demand an opt-out?”

Justice Sonia Sotomayor pressed the plaintiffs’ attorney on whether “the mere exposure to things that you object to” really counts as coercion. And Justice Ketanji Brown Jackson questioned why, even if opt-outs are not allowed, public schools teaching “something that the parent disagrees with” is coercive, given that homeschooling and private schools are legal.

Mahmoud raises challenging questions about curricular content, parental control and free exercise of religion – questions the court will hopefully resolve. A ruling is expected in June or early July 2025.

Charles J. Russo does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

– ref. 100 years ago, the Supreme Court made a landmark ruling on parents’ rights in education – today, another case raises new questions – https://theconversation.com/100-years-ago-the-supreme-court-made-a-landmark-ruling-on-parents-rights-in-education-today-another-case-raises-new-questions-257876

Source: The Conversation – USA (3) – By Virginia Raguin, Distinguished Professor of Humanities Emerita, College of the Holy Cross

In his first general audience in Rome, Pope Leo XIV referred to Vincent van Gogh’s painting “Sower at Sunset” and called it a symbol of hope. A brilliant setting sun illuminates a field as a farmer walks toward the right, sowing seeds.

Leo referred to Christ’s Parable of the Sower, a story in the Gospel that speaks to the need to do good works. “Every word of the Gospel is like a seed sown in the soil of our lives,” he said, and highlighted that the soil is not only our heart, “but also the world, the community, the church.”

He noted that “behind the sower, van Gogh painted the grain already ripe,” and Leo called it an image of hope which shows that somehow the seed has borne fruit.

Van Gogh painted “Sower at Sunset” in 1888, when he was living in Arles in southern France. At the time, he was creating art alongside his friend Paul Gauguin and feeling very happy about the future. The painting reflects his optimism.

Van Gogh’s inspiration

In November 1888, van Gogh wrote to his brother Theo, in whom he frequently confided, about “Sower at Sunset.” He described its beautiful colors: “Immense lemon-yellow disc for the sun. Green-yellow sky with pink clouds. The field is violet, the sower and the tree Prussian Blue.”

Van Gogh’s painting was inspired by French artist Jean-Francois Millet’s 1860 painting, “The Sower.” But he transformed Millet’s composition, in which a dark, isolated figure dominates, and deliberately set the sower in the midst of a landscape transformed by the sun.

Other artists, including the Norwegian Emanuel Vigeland, explicitly depicted the Parable of the Sower. Vigeland’s series of stained-glass windows in an Oslo church explains each passage’s meaning. As the sower works, some seeds fall by the wayside and the birds immediately eat them, indicating those who hear the word of God but do not listen.

Some seeds fall on stony ground and cannot take root, a symbol of those with little tenacity. Others fall among thorns and are choked. Vigeland juxtaposed a dramatic image of a miser counting piles of money, indicating how the man’s life has become choked by desire for material gain.

The final passage of the parable states that some seeds fell on good ground and yielded a hundredfold. Vigeland’s depiction shows an image of an abundant harvest of grain next to a man seated on the ground and cradling a child in his lap.

What it says about Leo

Van Gogh’s painting corresponds to many of the ideas the new pope expressed in the first days of his papacy. Leo observed: “In the center of the painting is the sun, not the sower, [which reminds us that] it is God who moves history, even if he sometimes seems absent or distant. It is the sun that warms the clods of the earth and ripens the seed.”

The theme of the dignity of labor is also inherent in the image of the sower being deeply engrossed in physical labor, which relates to the pope’s choice of his name. The pope stated that he took on the name Leo XIV “mainly because Pope Leo XIII in his historic encyclical Rerum Novarum addressed the social question in the context of the first great industrial revolution.” Leo XIII was referring to the social question of economic injustice in the meager rewards for workers even as owners made great profits from the Industrial Revolution.

The pope saw Van Gogh’s image of the sower, like Vigeland’s, as a message of hope. That message, to him, fits with the theme of hope of The Jubilee Year proclaimed by Leo’s predecessor, Francis. Leo also expressed hope that humans listening to God would embrace service to others.

Virginia Raguin does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

– ref. What a sunny van Gogh painting of ‘The Sower’ tells us about Pope Leo’s message of hope – https://theconversation.com/what-a-sunny-van-gogh-painting-of-the-sower-tells-us-about-pope-leos-message-of-hope-258040

Source: The Conversation – USA (3) – By Cody Musselman, Preceptor, College Writing Program, Harvard University

Déjà vu is a common occurrence in the world of sports, and the Edmonton Oilers are no strangers to repeat matchups. The Canadian team faced off against the New York Islanders in both 1983 and ’84 for hockey’s biggest prize, the Stanley Cup. In this year’s National Hockey League finals, the Oilers will try to avenge their Game 7 loss to the Florida Panthers in 2024.

Edmontonians who have been “loyal to the oil,” as fans say, have been waiting for redemption ever since. The Trump administration’s threats toward its northern neighbor has fueled a wave of nationalism, making even more fans eager for a Canadian team to win the Stanley Cup – which has not happened since 1993. With hopes pinned to Edmonton, the finals also brings renewed attention to some of Canada’s biggest exports: hockey and oil.

Novelist Leslie McFarlane once observed that for Canadians, “hockey is more than a game; it is almost a religion.” Prayers and superstitions abound, from wearing special clothing to fans averting their eyes during penalty shots.

The Oilers also evoke another aspect of Canadian society that, for some, has almost religious importance: resource extraction. In American and Canadian culture, oil has long been entangled with religion. It’s a national blessing from God, in some people’s eyes, and a means to the “good life” for those who persevere to find it. For many people in communities whose economies center around resource extraction, the possibility of success is valued above its environmental risks.

We are scholars of religion who study sports and how oil shapes society, or petro-cultures. The Edmonton Oilers showcase a worldview in which triumph, luck and rugged work pay off – beliefs at home on the ice or in the oil field. The Stanley Cup Final offers a glimpse into how the oil industry has helped shaped the religious fervor around Canada’s favorite sport.

Boomtown

Edmonton is the capital of Alberta, a province known for its massive oil, gas and oil sands reserves. With five refineries producing an average of 3.8 million barrels a day, oil and gas is Alberta’s biggest industry – and a way of life.

This is especially true in Edmonton, known as the “Oil Capital of Canada.” Here, oil not only structures the local economy, but it also shapes identities, architecture and everyday experiences.

Visit the West Edmonton Mall, for example, and you’ll see a statue of three oil workers drilling, reminding shoppers that petroleum is the bedrock of their commerce. Visit the Canadian Energy Museum to learn how oil and gas have remade the region since the late 1940s, and glimpse items such as engraved hard hats and the “Oil Patch Kid,” a spin on the iconic “Cabbage Patch Kids” toys. Tour the Greater Edmonton area and see how pump jacks dot the horizon. Oil is everywhere, shaping futures, fortunes and possibility.

Set against this backdrop, the Oilers’ name is unsurprising. It is not uncommon, after all, to name teams after local industries. Football’s Pittsburgh Steelers pay homage to the steel mills that once employed much of the team’s fan base. The Tennessee Oilers were originally the Houston Oilers, prompting other Texas teams such as the XFL’s Roughnecks to follow suit. Further north, the name of basketball’s Detroit Pistons references car manufacturing.

Teams with industry-inspired names play double duty, venerating both a place and a trade. Some fans are not only cheering for the home team, but also cheering for themselves – affirming that their industry and their labor matter.

In a TikTok video from last year’s Stanley Cups playoffs, a man overcome with joy at the Oilers’ victory over the Dallas Stars claps his hands and hops around his living room. The caption reads, “My first-generation immigrant oil rig working Filipino father who has never played a second of hockey in his life … happily cheering for the Oilers advancing in the playoffs. Better Bring that cup home for him oily boys.” He appears to be cheering for the Oilers not because they are a hockey team, but because they are an oil team.

And indeed, the Oilers are an oily team. The Oilers’ Oilfield Network, for example, describes itself as “exclusively promot[ing] companies in the Oil and Gas industry,” allowing leaders to connect “through the power of Oilers hockey.”

The Oilers’ connection with industry is further underscored by their logos. The current one features a simple drop of oil, but past designs featured machinery gears and an oil worker pulling a lever shaped like a hockey stick.

Simply put, “Edmonton is all oil,” Oilers goaltender Stuart Skinner shared after defeating the Dallas Stars to win the 2025 Western Conference Final.

Liquid gold

There is a long tradition of pairing hockey with oil – and with Canada itself.

After the British North America Act founded Canada in 1867, the new nation searched for a distinctive identity through sport and other cultural forms.

Enter hockey. The winter game evolved in Canada from the Gaelic game of “shinty” and the First Nations’ game of lacrosse and soon became part of the glue holding the nation together.

Ever since, media, politicians, sports groups and major industries have helped fuel fan fervor and promoted hockey as integral to Canada’s rugged frontiersman character.

In 1936, Imperial Oil, one of Canada’s largest petroleum companies, began sponsoring Hockey Night in Canada, a national radio show that reached millions each week. Several years later, Imperial Oil played a major role in bringing the show to television, where the Imperial Oil Choir sang the theme song. Imperial Oil and its gas stations, Esso, also sponsored youth hockey programs across the nation. In 2019, Imperial inked a deal to be the NHL’s “official retail fuel” in Canada.

Striking it rich

Connections between hockey and industry in Alberta’s oil country aren’t just about sponsorships. Central to both cultures is the idea of luck – historically, one of the many things it takes to extract fossil fuels. “Striking it rich” in the oil fields has become entangled with the idea of divine providence, especially among the many Christian laborers.

Philosopher Terra Schwerin Rowe has written about North America’s “petro-theology,” explaining how many perceive oil as a free-flowing gift from God meant to be taken from the Earth – if you can find it.

Oil represents fortune, and who wouldn’t want to borrow a bit of that for their team? Sports are thrilling because sometimes talent, team chemistry and the home-field advantage still lose to a stroke of good luck. Oil culture pairs the idea of divine favor with an insistence on rough-and-tumble endurance, similar to hockey.

Sometimes if you don’t strike it rich the first time, you have to keep on drilling. The next well may be the one to bring wealth. Oil prospectors know this, but so do sports fans who maintain hope season to season.

Soon fans from around the world will join Edmonton locals in rooting for the Oilers. They’ll throw their hands up in despair if captain Connor McDavid enters the “sin bin” – the penalty box – or dance in celebration to the Oilers’ theme, “La Bamba.” Some of them will be cheering, too, for oil.

This is an updated version of an article originally published on June 19, 2024.

Cody Musselman’s project was made possible through the support of grant #63243 ​from the John Templeton Foundation. The opinions expressed in this publication ​do not necessarily reflect the views of the John ​Templeton Foundation.

Judith Ellen Brunton does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

– ref. ‘Loyal to the oil’ – how religion and striking it rich shape Canada’s hockey fandom – https://theconversation.com/loyal-to-the-oil-how-religion-and-striking-it-rich-shape-canadas-hockey-fandom-258024

Source: The Conversation – USA (3) – By Tania Lizarazo, Associate Professor of Latin American Studies and Global Studies, University of Maryland, Baltimore County

It’s been almost nine years since Colombia celebrated a landmark peace agreement between one guerrilla group and the government, and three years since President Gustavo Petro vowed “total peace.” But in reality, the country’s decades-long internal conflict continues – making it one of the oldest in the world.

Violence surged in early 2025, the most intense uptick in years. Fighting between two armed guerrilla groups in the northeastern Catatumbo region killed dozens of people and displaced tens of thousands more. Since the largest armed group – the Revolutionary Armed Forces of Colombia, known as FARC – signed the 2016 peace accord, more than 400 signatories have been killed. Meanwhile, more than 1,200 social leaders and human rights defenders have been assassinated.

We often define peace as the absence of war. The problem with thinking about peace and war as an all-or-nothing binary, however, is that it obscures the violence that takes place in “peaceful times.” For Colombians, that paradox is nothing new. In many communities most affected by the violence, thinking about a “post-conflict era” feels utopian.

As a Colombian researcher who has collaborated with Afro-Colombian leaders for over a decade, I have noticed that emphasizing peace talks and accords erases the historical violence that is still present, especially for racial minorities. Colombia has the largest Black population in Spanish-speaking Latin America. In Chocó – a region on the Pacific coast where I conducted my research – Afro-Colombians form a majority.

Communities there are contending not only with the contemporary conflict, but also ongoing challenges from the legacies of slavery, colonialism and extractive industries. Many residents, particularly women, work together every day to try to bring peace and justice within reach.

Rights vs. reality

Colombia has been mired in war for over six decades, as legal and illegal armed groups across the political spectrum fight for territories and resources. The conflict is estimated to have killed around 450,000 people and displaced around 7 million.

Black and Indigenous communities have disproportionately suffered the brunt of the war – especially in rural areas, where their lives and territories have been threatened by armed groups and companies alike. In Chocó Department, the site of my research, the region’s remoteness and biodiversity have attracted illegal groups and practices like drug trafficking, as well as mining and other types of resource extraction that threaten traditional livelihoods. Mercury from industrial mining poses an additional danger to people’s health and the environment.

Black rural communities in the Pacific lowlands, where most of Chocó is located, have a legal right to collective ownership of their territories and to be consulted about development plans. In reality, land grabs and targeted killings over illegal crops, mining and other extractive practices have become the norm here, as is true throughout rural Colombia.

The conflict has intensified racism and gender hierarchies, with Black women, particularly activists, especially vulnerable. Vice President Francia Márquez Mina, for example – who has won awards for her activism against illegal mining – survived an attack near her home in the nearby department of Cauca in 2019. She and her family have received other threats on their lives since then.

Building solidarity

Even in “postconflict” times, peace is a challenging task. It requires social change that does not happen overnight. Rather, it is the accumulation of tiny sparks in people’s daily commitments.

In my book “Postconflict Utopias: Everyday Survival in Chocó, Colombia,” I write about how Black women’s organizations care for their territories and communities. The “comisionadas,” for example, belong to one of the largest associations of community councils in rural Colombia, called COCOMACIA. These women travel the Atrato River and its tributaries to lead workshops about the organization, as well as territorial rights and women’s rights.

Everyone in the community is welcome to participate in dialogues about issues such as women’s political participation, land ownership and related legislation. Comisionada María del Socorro Mosquera Pérez, for example, wrote a song to share the importance of Law 1257, a landmark 2008 law against violence and discrimination against women.

In her story for the research project that I discuss in my book, “Mujeres Pacíficas,” comisionada Rubiela Cuesta Córdoba says it best: “The best legacy that one leaves to family and friends is resistance.”

One focus of these women’s groups’ work is the Atrato River itself. Since 2016, the same year of the peace accords, Colombian courts have recognized the river as a legal person, with rights to protection, conservation, maintenance and restoration.

The river is a source of food and transportation between many basin communities where potable water, electricity and other amenities are scarce. But it is also intertwined with politics and spirituality. Pilgrimages like “Atratiando,” a trip along the river and its tributaries that has taken place multiple times since 1999, highlight that there is no life without the river. Participants travel through areas where paramilitaries and guerrillas are active, showing solidarity with vulnerable communities.

COCOMACIA’s comisionadas are part of many other organizations – highlighting how survival is not only intertwined with lands and rivers, but other regions and countries. The struggle for women’s rights has led the comisionadas to collaborate with other organizations, creating wider networks of care. These include La Red Departamental de Mujeres Chocoanas, a feminist coalition of women’s organizations in Chocó; La Ruta Pacífica de las Mujeres, a feminist movement of 300 organizations from across Colombia; and Women in Black, an anti-militarism network with members in over 150 countries.

Their solidarity is a reminder that peace and justice are a collaborative, everyday effort. As Justa Germania Mena Córdoba, leader of the comisionadas at the time, told me in 2012: “One cannot change the world by herself.”

This article has been updated to correct the description of COCOMACIA.

Tania Lizarazo does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

– ref. Peace has long been elusive in rural Colombia – Black women’s community groups try to bring it closer each day – https://theconversation.com/peace-has-long-been-elusive-in-rural-colombia-black-womens-community-groups-try-to-bring-it-closer-each-day-219550

Source: The Conversation – USA (3) – By Stylianos Syropoulos, Assistant Professor of Psychology, Arizona State University

People often prioritize the well-being of family, friends and neighbors, as they feel a closeness emotionally and share the same temporal context. But they overlook how people born decades or centuries from now may suffer as a result of today’s failures to address major global risks such as climate change, future pandemics and unregulated artificial intelligence.

Our new research, published in the British Journal of Social Psychology, shows that brief, low-cost psychological interventions can help individuals adopt a more expansive moral perspective to include future generations.

We conducted three online studies with over 8,700 participants to examine whether prompting people to consider the long-term consequences of their actions could shift moral priorities beyond the present.

In one of two interventions, participants imagined themselves serving on a government committee responsible for protecting future generations. Their task was to ensure that new legislation accounted not only for immediate needs but also for long-term impacts; they were asked to write a speech communicating these goals to the American public. This exercise highlighted institutional responsibility and the role of collective action across time.

In the second intervention, participants engaged with a more personal thought experiment adapted from philosopher William MacAskill’s book “What We Owe the Future,” which explores our moral responsibility toward humanity’s long-term future.

Here, they read a scenario about a hiker who comes across broken glass on a remote trail – glass that may one day injure an unknown child. Should the hiker clean it up, even though no one is watching and the child may not appear for decades? After reflecting on this story, participants were asked to write about what they themselves could do to help make the future better for others.

Moral concern for both intervention and control participants was assessed using the Moral Expansiveness Scale. We asked participants to rate how much moral concern they felt for a wide range of issues. These included concern for future generations, alongside family and friends, strangers, marginalized groups such as LGBTQ+ people, animals and the natural environment.

Why it matters

Although these exercises differed, one emphasizing collective responsibility and the other individual, both led to the same outcome: Participants randomly assigned to an intervention condition expressed significantly greater moral concern for future generations than those assigned to a control condition who completed neither exercise.

This effect held across cultural contexts and across six diverse countries – the U.S., Argentina, South Africa, the Philippines, the U.K. and Australia – and persisted even when participants were required to make trade-offs in a zero-sum version of the Moral Expansiveness Scale. In this version of the task, they distributed a fixed number of “moral concern points” across competing groups, compelling them to weigh the moral importance of future generations against that of present-day entities like family members, strangers, nature and others.

What’s especially intriguing, however, is that the elevated concern for future generations among intervention participants did not come at the expense of concern for other socially distant entities or those viewed as marginalized.

What changed was how participants prioritized their moral concern: They placed slightly less emphasis on family and friends – groups that people typically prioritize most, even when they may be least in need of moral protection.

In contrast, concern increased for distant others, both living today and in the future.

What’s next

This perspective, encouraged by the interventions, could perhaps help lay the groundwork for more durable public support for addressing long-term challenges.

In future work, we hope to explore whether these interventions can inspire real-world action. This could include increased support for climate policies, voting for leaders who prioritize long-term investments like sustainable infrastructure and pandemic preparedness, or donating to causes that benefit future generations.

But how might these interventions be integrated into everyday life? One promising approach is to embed them into settings where such reflections already occur, such as schools, civic education programs or public awareness campaigns.

To assess their real-world potential, we plan to examine the durability of these effects. We want to see whether deploying them in such contexts can meaningfully inspire long-term shifts in attitudes and – importantly – behavior.

For example, brief storytelling exercises or classroom role-plays, like imagining oneself as a future-focused policymaker, could be incorporated into high school or college curricula to shape students’ values, goals and even career trajectories. Similarly, community workshops, online media or social campaigns could adapt these scenarios to foster long-term thinking in broader populations.

When people reflect on how their actions today shape the future, they may be more likely to back solutions to present-day issues like poverty and inequality, knowing these problems can have ripple effects for generations to come. They may also become more motivated to confront emerging risks, such as unregulated artificial intelligence or future pandemics, before those risks escalate.

The Research Brief is a short take on interesting academic work.

The research relevant to this article was funded by the John Templeton Foundation and APA Division 48.

The research relevant to this article was funded by the John Templeton Foundation and APA Division 48.

– ref. We asked over 8,700 people in 6 countries to think about future generations in decision-making, and this is what we found – https://theconversation.com/we-asked-over-8-700-people-in-6-countries-to-think-about-future-generations-in-decision-making-and-this-is-what-we-found-256767