Category: Academic Reportage

Source: The Conversation – USA (2) – By Riyad A. Shahjahan, Professor of Higher, Adult and Life Long Education, Michigan State University

Harvard University is under siege by the Trump administration – and the world is watching. But this case isn’t just an American issue.

It’s part of a global trend: universities cast as enemies and institutions in need of reform. Populist, right-wing governments are blaming universities for tearing at the fabric of nations.

These attacks are part of a broader strategy known as affective nationalism. It occurs when leaders use emotions, not just ideas, to build national identity. Feelings such as fear, pride, nostalgia and resentment are deployed to create a story about who belongs, who doesn’t and who’s to blame.

As scholars who study nationalism, emotion and higher education, we explore the emotional politics behind these attacks.

Global backlash

Much of President Donald Trump’s vision and rhetoric is inspired by Hungary, where Prime Minister Viktor Orbán has waged a culture war on higher education for over a decade, banning gender studies and reshaping university governance. Orbán’s attacks on Central European University expose his hostility to academic freedom, critical thinking and diversity. All are viewed as threats to his nationalist “illiberal democracy.”

Trump followed Orbán’s playbook. On May 22, 2025, his administration declared that Harvard could no longer enroll foreign students. A U.S. Department of Homeland Security statement claimed that university leaders “created an unsafe campus environment by permitting anti-American, pro-terrorist agitators.” The statement suggested that many of the so-called agitators were foreign students.

Similarly, in India, students at Jawaharlal Nehru University were labeled “anti-national” for protesting the Citizenship Amendment Act, which provides fast-track citizenship to non-Muslim refugees. The students argued that it marginalizes Muslims. Since 2016, the Modi government has increasingly used “anti-national” and sedition charges to silence student and academic dissent.

These labels – “elite,” “foreign” or “anti-national” – are not neutral. They fuel fear, resentment and powerful narratives that frame universities as threats. Harvard, Central European University and Jawaharlal Nehru University have become symbols of broader national anxieties around identity and belonging.

British-Australian feminist scholar Sara Ahmed’s work on the sticky nature of emotions helps reveal the two emotions that often appear in attacks on universities: nostalgia and resentment.

Glorifying the nation’s past

Nostalgia is a longing for a better past.

Consider Trump’s “Make American Great Again” slogan. It implies the nation was once great, has declined and must reclaim its former glory. That’s a powerful emotional story. Nationalism often works this way – by telling a tale of a lost golden age and a future that must be saved.

For that reason, nostalgia is central to populist attacks on universities and institutional reform. U.S. Secretary of Education Linda McMahon, for example, evoked Harvard’s symbolic past as part of the American Dream, arguing it has lost its way and “put its reputation in serious jeopardy.”

In India, Modi’s government rejects Western influence, while using nostalgia to revive a Hindu past in higher education. The Modi government promotes national pride on campuses by glorifying military heroes and installing symbolic figures – such as the statue of Swami Vivekananda, a Hindu monk and philosopher, at Jawaharlal Nehru University – to shape student identity and loyalty.

In Hungary, Orbán mobilizes a glorified Christian past to challenge discourses on diversity, inclusion, critical inquiry and academic freedom in higher education. A 2021 bill tasks universities with defending the nation and preserving its intellectual and cultural heritage.

Enemies of the nation

Resentment is a powerful emotion often used by states that see themselves as defenders of national unity and values. When Harvard resisted Trump’s reforms, the president framed the university’s stance in a Truth Social post as a betrayal to the nation, denouncing it as “terrorist inspired/supporting ‘sickness.’” Meanwhile, the Department of Education issued a statement that accused the university of a “troubling entitlement mindset.”

Similarly, in India, the Modi government has increasingly framed public universities – especially those with critical voices – as “anti-national” spaces. By casting critical voices as enemies within, the state turns resentment into a political weapon to justify the erosion of academic freedom.

In Hungary, the Orbán government mobilized resentment to portray universities and academics as disloyal elites working against the nation. One example of Hungary’s war on universities is the 2018 ban on gender studies, justified by the Orbán government as rejecting “socially constructed genders” in favor of “biological sexes.” This move reflects how the government uses resentment to assert ideological control over academic institutions.

Emotional battlegrounds?

Universities, especially elite ones such as Harvard and Jawaharlal Nehru University, carry deep symbolic weight. People care because of what the institutions represent.

Harvard, with its elite status, has long been a symbol of academic authority. But more recently, it has been cast as a defender of liberal higher education – making it a Trump administration target.

Jawaharlal Nehru University in India holds similar symbolic weight. It’s historically associated with producing the country’s social elites and is seen, especially in mainstream media, as left-leaning, making it a lightning rod in India’s polarized political landscape.

In Hungary, the Orbán government viewed Central European University as a danger because it threatened the government’s Christian-nationalist vision of the nation-state.

Universities are under attack not just for what they teach and research, but for what – and who – they represent. These are not just ideological disputes; they are emotional struggles over identity, belonging and public trust.

The authors do not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and have disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

– ref. Leaders in India, Hungary and the US are using appeals to nostalgia and nationalism to attack higher education – https://theconversation.com/leaders-in-india-hungary-and-the-us-are-using-appeals-to-nostalgia-and-nationalism-to-attack-higher-education-258975

Source: The Conversation – USA (3) – By Helena Addison, Postdoctoral fellow, Yale University

Mike returned home to Philadelphia after a 15-year prison sentence and suffered an emotional breakdown.

“I just couldn’t stop crying … I don’t know. It was the anxiety. It was just a lot,” he said. “I was under a lot of pressure and it just came crashing down.”

Mike, who was in his late 40s when we spoke, told me about his childhood filled with abuse, his first arrest at age 14, and the over 20 years of his life that he spent behind bars.

As a registered nurse and nurse scientist who studies how incarceration affects mental health, I know Mike’s experience after release from prison is not uncommon. Studies show that Black men who have experienced incarceration have higher rates of PTSD, depression and psychological distress compared with Black men who have never been incarcerated.

Working in psychiatric hospitals in Philadelphia, I met many patients in crisis who had been incarcerated at some point in their lives. As a part of my doctoral research, funded by the National Institute of Nursing Research, I interviewed 29 formerly incarcerated Black men to understand how incarceration has affected their mental health.

My peer-reviewed findings were published in the journal Social Science & Medicine. All quotes shared here use pseudonyms to protect the men’s privacy.

Trauma of incarceration

Mass incarceration in the U.S. has serious health consequences for individuals, families and communities. In Philadelphia alone, over 20,000 people return home from incarceration each year.

While incarceration rates are declining in Philadelphia, the needs of those coming home remain significant.

Many formerly incarcerated men described experiencing or witnessing violence, including being beaten by correctional officers and witnessing close friends get assaulted or killed.

“You know you are not regular because you come from a traumatic situation, right?” said Thomas, 44, who spent 18 years incarcerated.

The participants expressed that racism was common, especially while incarcerated in facilities located in the rural central and northern regions of Pennsylvania.

“I ain’t gonna sugar coat it – Black people going up into them white people mountains, they call you [n-word] all day long and you basically there to accept it,” Antonio told me.

Incarceration was especially difficult for those who were held for months pretrial without ever being convicted and those incarcerated during COVID restrictions who spent more than 23 hours a day in their cells.

‘Even though I’m free, I ain’t free’

Participants described life on parole or probation, or in transitional housing, as another form of confinement.

Ken, 56, has been out of prison for over a decade but said, “I’m still locked up, even though I’m free, I ain’t free. You just get a whole new set of rules and regulations.”

Men described significant anxiety related to community supervision requirements, including difficulty sleeping the night before a probation appointment.

Participants also described distress caused by “no association” restrictions. These are common parole and probation requirements that prohibit people under supervision from interacting with others who have criminal records, are also under supervision or are currently incarcerated. Violating this requirement can lead to a technical violation and reincarceration.

While these requirements are meant to reduce the risk of reoffending, they often isolate people from supportive relationships and resources, including housing and employment.

“[There are] a lot of smart brothers in there. And it hurts my heart. And that’s where the depression coming in too,” said Reese, who spent six years incarcerated. “I can’t contact them in jail. … That’s just how it is in the system.”

Philadelphia has the highest rate of community supervision – including probation and parole – among the largest U.S. cities, according to a 2019 analysis by The Philadelphia Inquirer.

At that time, the Inquirer reports, 1 in 23 adults in Philadelphia were under community supervision – and 1 in 14 Black adults in Philadelphia.

The men I interviewed said they felt like parts of them never left jail or prison, while others felt that they brought prison or jail home with them.

Tyrese, 34, said he stays home as often as he can.

“I’ve been out of the joint for seven years now and feel like I’m still institutionalized, I guess,” he said. “I know people that don’t even come outside,” referring to other formerly incarcerated men.

Others had dreams that they were back in a cell, or at home still wearing jail clothing. Long after release, many described constant hypervigilance and anxiety.

“I can be walking to the bus station and there be people walking around me, I’m constantly watching them,” said Anthony, who was first incarcerated at age 18 and served 16 years. “I’m watching every movement they’re doing. That’s a habit I had from jail.”

Finding work

People who have been incarcerated often struggle to find employment after release, as many employers are unwilling to hire a person with a criminal record.

This leaves about 35% of formerly incarcerated Black men unemployed.

At the time of our interview, Tay, 31, was working part-time in carpentry. “Because I had felonies on my record a lot of places won’t hire me,” he said. “And a couple of places that I was working with, they ended up firing me once they did the background check.”

These frustrations can easily spill over into family life.

Mark, 30, also works part-time and said he found himself frequently becoming agitated and snapping at his kids, other family members and his girlfriend. “I can’t get the job I want or the job that I need to do what I need to do for my family and I’ll be frustrated,” he shared.

Participants struggled with having to depend on others for basic needs upon release. Kenny, who is now self-employed as a caterer, recalled his experience a few years earlier. “I was crying. I was a grown man, almost 40 years old, and my mother had to buy me underwear, socks,” he said.

The importance of fatherhood

Despite their many hardships, some of the men spoke with joy about reconnecting with their children.

“I think the most positive thing that happened since I’ve been out of prison is I got custody of my sons,” said Ken, a father of two. “Them kids saved me.”

Like many of the other participants with children, however, he was frustrated about being unable to provide for them and worried about repeating harmful cycles.

“You want to do good, but it makes you think bad stuff when you don’t have the right resources,” he continued. “You don’t want [your kids] to do the same things you did.”

Others struggled to bond with their children after years of separation.

John, 29, explained, “The bonding is kind of awkward, because you wasn’t there, especially during the pandemic when there was no visits allowed.”

Returning to disadvantaged neighborhoods

Most people released from incarceration return to neighborhoods with high rates of poverty, violence and other disadvantages.

Shawn, who lives in pubic housing, showed me abandoned buildings and boarded storefronts in his neighborhood and described how the environment made rebuilding his life harder.

For many participants, returning to divested communities brought stress. They experienced frequent exposure to substance use, violence and negative police encounters, and they had limited access to basic resources and job opportunities needed to support recovery and stability.

“This is my real life. It’s not fake. It’s not no, ‘Well, why did he go back and do this or that?’” he said. “I live in an underserved, impoverished, danger zone – period.”

Moving forward

The experiences these men shared with me demonstrate how traumatic incarceration is, even many years after release.

Supporting the mental health of formerly incarcerated Black men requires trauma-informed services, such as culturally responsive counseling, peer support and care that acknowledges the lasting effects of incarceration.

It also means helping them build or rebuild their financial resources, reconnect with their children and loved ones, and supporting the broader communities they return to through investment in housing, employment and accessible health and social services.

Helena Addison received funding from National Institute of Nursing Research of the National Institutes of Health under Award Number F31NR020434, the Substance Abuse and Mental Health Administration and American Nurses Association Minority Fellowship Program, the University of Pennsylvania’s Presidential PhD Fellowship, and Jonas Philanthropies to support this study and/or her PhD training. The content is solely the responsibility of the authors and does not necessarily represent the official views of the National Institutes of Health, or any other funding organizations or institutions. The views expressed in written training materials or publications and by speakers and moderators do not necessarily reflect the official policies of the Department and Human Services; nor does mention of trade names, commercial practices, or organizations imply endorsement by the U.S. Government.

– ref. ‘I just couldn’t stop crying’: How prison affects Black men’s mental health long after they’ve been released – https://theconversation.com/i-just-couldnt-stop-crying-how-prison-affects-black-mens-mental-health-long-after-theyve-been-released-259975

Source: The Conversation – USA (3) – By Melissa Melough, Assistant Professor of Nutrition Science, University of Delaware

Children whose mothers had higher vitamin D levels during pregnancy scored better on tests of memory, attention and problem-solving skills at ages 7 to 12 compared with those whose mothers had lower levels. That is a key finding of a new peer-reviewed study that my colleagues and I published in The American Journal of Clinical Nutrition.

While vitamin D has long been known for its role in maintaining bone health, scientists have since uncovered its importance in regulating immune function, reducing inflammation and protecting the nervous system. Now, growing evidence – including our new findings – suggest it may also support brain development beginning in the womb.

My team and I found that the link between prenatal vitamin D levels and childhood cognition was strongest among Black families, who also face higher rates of vitamin D deficiency.

This suggests that vitamin D supplementation may be a promising, low-cost strategy to support brain development while reducing racial disparities. Our study also suggested that vitamin D levels early in pregnancy may be most important for childhood cognitive development, highlighting the importance of early action by health care providers.

We analyzed more than 900 mother-child pairs across the U.S. who participated in a large national study called ECHO, short for Environmental influences on Child Health Outcomes. We measured vitamin D in the mothers’ blood during pregnancy and assessed children’s cognitive abilities using a standardized test battery. We also accounted for other important factors that shape childhood development such as the mother’s education, neighborhood conditions and the child’s age and sex.

This new study builds on our earlier findings that higher vitamin D levels during pregnancy are linked to higher IQ in early childhood and with reduced behavioral problems in middle childhood.

Collectively, these studies suggest that vitamin D plays a crucial role in brain development during pregnancy, with lasting benefits for children’s cognitive and behavioral outcomes.

Why it matters

Vitamin D deficiency is a common global problem.

In the U.S., about 42% of adults have vitamin D levels below 20 nanograms per milliliter, or ng/ml, a commonly used cutoff for deficiency. About a third of U.S. pregnant women are deficient, and the rates are even higher among Black pregnant women, with 80% found to be deficient. This racial difference is partly due to differences in skin pigmentation, as melanin pigment reduces the skin’s ability to produce vitamin D from sunlight.

Although we can get vitamin D both from sun exposure and our diets, deficiency is common because these sources don’t meet everyone’s needs. Sunlight isn’t always a reliable source, especially for people with darker skin, those living in northern climates or those who often wear sunscreen or sun-protective clothing. Natural food sources such as fatty fish, egg yolks and certain mushrooms contain some vitamin D, and fortified products such as milk and breakfast cereals help, but not everyone eats enough of these foods to maintain healthy vitamin D levels.

That’s why supplements are often necessary and are recommended in many cases by the Dietary Guidelines for Americans.

Although current guidelines recommend that pregnant women consume 600 international units, or IUs, of vitamin D daily, higher doses of at least 1,000 to 2,000 IU are often needed to correct deficiency. On average, U.S. women consume only 168 IU from food and beverages, and many prenatal vitamins provide just 400 IU. This highlights an important opportunity for clinicians to improve screening and support around vitamin D supplementation both before and during pregnancy.

If a simple, low-cost strategy such as prenatal vitamin D supplementation can help support brain development, it may yield lasting benefits for children. Long-term studies have shown that higher cognitive scores in childhood are linked to better memory and reasoning in older age, as well as longer lifespan.

What still isn’t known

While our studies have linked higher vitamin D levels in pregnancy to improved cognitive and behavioral development in children, we cannot yet prove that vitamin D is the direct cause.

Therefore, studies called randomized controlled trials – the gold standard of research – are needed to confirm these findings and determine how best to translate them into clinical practice. These studies will be essential for determining the optimal target levels for vitamin D to support brain development in pregnancy.

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

Melissa Melough receives funding from the National Institutes of Health (NIH).

– ref. About a third of pregnant women in the US lack sufficient vitamin D to support healthy pregnancies − new research – https://theconversation.com/about-a-third-of-pregnant-women-in-the-us-lack-sufficient-vitamin-d-to-support-healthy-pregnancies-new-research-259433

Source: The Conversation – USA (3) – By Ryan Leack, Assistant Professor of Writing, USC Dornsife College of Letters, Arts and Sciences

In my writing and rhetoric courses, students have plenty of opinions on whether AI is intelligent: how well it can assess, analyze, evaluate and communicate information.

When I ask whether artificial intelligence can “think,” however, I often look upon a sea of blank faces. What is “thinking,” and how is it the same or different from “intelligence”?

We might treat the two as more or less synonymous, but philosophers have marked nuances for millennia. Greek philosophers may not have known about 21st-century technology, but their ideas about intellect and thinking can help us understand what’s at stake with AI today.

The divided line

Although the English words “intellect” and “thinking” do not have direct counterparts in the ancient Greek, looking at ancient texts offers useful comparisons.

In “Republic,” for example, Plato uses the analogy of a “divided line” separating higher and lower forms of understanding.

Plato, who taught in the fourth century BCE, argued that each person has an intuitive capacity to recognize the truth. He called this the highest form of understanding: “noesis.” Noesis enables apprehension beyond reason, belief or sensory perception. It’s one form of “knowing” something – but in Plato’s view, it’s also a property of the soul.

Lower down, but still above his “dividing line,” is “dianoia,” or reason, which relies on argumentation. Below the line, his lower forms of understanding are “pistis,” or belief, and “eikasia,” imagination.

Pistis is belief influenced by experience and sensory perception: input that someone can critically examine and reason about. Plato defines eikasia, meanwhile, as baseless opinion rooted in false perception.

In Plato’s hierarchy of mental capacities, direct, intuitive understanding is at the top, and moment-to-moment physical input toward the bottom. The top of the hierarchy leads to true and absolute knowledge, while the bottom lends itself to false impressions and beliefs. But intuition, according to Plato, is part of the soul, and embodied in human form. Perceiving reality transcends the body – but still needs one.

So, while Plato does not differentiate “intelligence” and “thinking,” I would argue that his distinctions can help us think about AI. Without being embodied, AI may not “think” or “understand” the way humans do. Eikasia – the lowest form of comprehension, based on false perceptions – may be similar to AI’s frequent “hallucinations,” when it makes up information that seems plausible but is actually inaccurate.

Embodied thinking

Aristotle, Plato’s student, sheds more light on intelligence and thinking.

In “On the Soul,” Aristotle distinguishes “active” from “passive” intellect. Active intellect, which he called “nous,” is immaterial. It makes meaning from experience, but transcends bodily perception. Passive intellect is bodily, receiving sensory impressions without reasoning.

We could say that these active and passive processes, put together, constitute “thinking.” Today, the word “intelligence” holds a logical quality that AI’s calculations may conceivably replicate. Aristotle, however, like Plato, suggests that to “think” requires an embodied form and goes beyond reason alone.

Aristotle’s views on rhetoric also show that deliberation and judgment require a body, feeling and experience. We might think of rhetoric as persuasion, but it is actually more about observation: observing and evaluating how evidence, emotion and character shape people’s thinking and decisions. Facts matter, but emotions and people move us – and it seems questionable whether AI utilizes rhetoric in this way.

Finally, Aristotle’s concept of “phronesis” sheds further light on AI’s capacity to think. In “Nicomachean Ethics,” he defines phronesis as “practical wisdom” or “prudence.” “Phronesis” involves lived experience that determines not only right thought, but also how to apply those thoughts to “good ends,” or virtuous actions. AI may analyze large datasets to reach its conclusions, but “phronesis” goes beyond information to consult wisdom and moral insight.

‘Thinking’ robots?

Today, AI takes on many physical forms, from autonomous vehicles and humanoid robots to health care robots and drones. If intelligence requires embodiment, as Plato and Aristotle believed, it might seem as if AI is coming closer than ever to human thinking.

AI does take on many forms, but they’re still not bodies; they run on code, algorithms and datasets. Intuitive understanding, emotion, integrity and practical wisdom seem to require an embodied, perishable form that is moved by experience.

Perhaps we should ask AI itself – so I did. When I prompted ChatGPT with the simple question, “Can you think?” it responded: “I can process information, analyze patterns, and generate responses based on data. So in some ways, it might ‘seem’ like I’m thinking. But it’s not thinking like a human does. I don’t have consciousness, emotions, intentions, or awareness. Everything I ‘do’ is based on patterns learned from huge amounts of text and a set of rules and probabilities. I can ‘simulate’ certain aspects of thinking, but I don’t truly think or understand in the human sense.”

That response aligns with Plato and Aristotle’s views. For now.

Ryan Leack 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. Can AI think – and should it? What it means to think, from Plato to ChatGPT – https://theconversation.com/can-ai-think-and-should-it-what-it-means-to-think-from-plato-to-chatgpt-256648

Source: The Conversation – USA – By Allison Perlman, Associate Professor of Film & Media Studies, University of California, Irvine

The U.S. Senate narrowly approved on July 16, 2025, a bill that would claw back federal funding for the Corporation for Public Broadcasting, which distributes money to NPR, PBS and their affiliate stations. The US$9 billion rescission package will withdraw $1.1 billion Congress had previously approved for the CPB to receive in the 2026 and 2027 fiscal years. In addition, it makes deep foreign aid cuts. All Democrats present voted against the measure, joined by two Republicans: Sens. Susan Collins of Maine and Lisa Murkowski of Alaska. As long as the House, which approved a previous version, votes in favor of the Senate’s version of the bill by midnight July 18, Trump will be able to meet a budgetary deadline by signing the measure into law in time for it to take effect.

What will happen to NPR, PBS and local stations?

NPR and PBS provide programming to local public television and radio stations across the country. The impact on them will be direct and indirect.

Both NPR and PBS receive money from the Corporation for Public Broadcasting, an independent nonprofit corporation Congress created in 1967 to receive and distribute federal money to public broadcasters. More than 70% of the money it distributes flows directly to local stations. Some stations get up to half of their budgets from the CPB.

But NPR and PBS get much of their funding from foundation grants, viewers’ and listeners’ donations, and corporate underwriting. And local public radio and TV stations also get support from an array of sources besides CPB.

Only about 1% of NPR funding, and 15% of PBS funding, comes directly from the government via the CPB. However, once local radio and television stations lose federal funding, they’ll be less able to pay NPR and PBS for the programs they produce.

The nearly 1,500 public media stations in the U.S. rely on a mix of NPR, PBS and third-party producer programming, such as American Public Media and PRX, for the programs they offer. Local stations also produce and air regional news and provide emergency broadcasts for the government.

In rural areas with few broadcast stations and spotty cellphone coverage, public broadcast stations are vital sources of information about important community news and updates during emergencies. Federal support is essential for the programming and day-to-day operations of many local stations and allows for the maintenance of equipment and personnel to operate these vital community resources.

We believe that stations in communities that most need them, especially in rural locations, would be hit especially hard because they rely heavily on CPB funding.

Why are Republicans taking this step?

Public broadcasting has long been a target of conservative Republicans. They say that with a highly diversified media landscape, the public no longer needs media that is subsidized by federal dollars. They also claim that public broadcasting has a liberal bias and taxpayers should not be required to fund media that slants to the left politically.

Why is public media necessary when there’s news on the internet?

As journalism revenue has plummeted, public broadcasting has remained a vital source for news in communities across the nation. This is especially true in rural communities, where economic and political pressures have threatened the survival of local journalism.

In addition, with much online news coverage placed behind paywalls, public radio and television plays an important role in making quality journalism available to the American public.

Why did Congress approve these funds 2 years ahead?

Public broadcasting has gotten roughly $550 million per year from the federal government in recent years. The CPB has always approved and designated those funds two years in advance, due to a provision in the Public Broadcasting Act of 1967, after Congress has voted to provide that money. The CPB then has distributed that funding primarily through grants to PBS and NPR affiliate stations to support their technical infrastructure, program development and audience research.

What are the consequences for Native communities?

Dozens of Native American stations are at risk of closing once the CPB is defunded. Native Public Media, a network of 57 radio stations and four TV stations, is a key source of news and information for tribal communities across the nation and relies on CPB support.

U.S. Sen. Mike Rounds, a South Dakota Republican, publicly stated that he secured an agreement with the White House to move $9.4 million in Interior Department funding to two dozen Native American stations. But there is no provision related to this promise within the legislation.

Allison Perlman is the co-chair of the Scholars Advisory Committee of the American Archive of Public Broadcasting.

Josh Shepperd and Allison Perlman are under contract to co-author an update of the history of public broadcasting for Current, public media’s trade journal, and the Corporation for Public Broadcasting. Josh and Allison are not paid employees or vendors of either institution.

– ref. Clawback of $1.1B for PBS and NPR puts rural stations at risk – and threatens a vital source of journalism – https://theconversation.com/clawback-of-1-1b-for-pbs-and-npr-puts-rural-stations-at-risk-and-threatens-a-vital-source-of-journalism-255826