Category: Analysis

Source: The Conversation – USA (2) – By Hélène Nguemgaing, Assistant Clinical Professor of Critical Resources & Sustainability Analytics, University of Maryland

The United States is spending billions of dollars to secure access to critical minerals – minerals and metals that are essential to modern technology, from electric vehicles to smartphones and military systems.

But amid the push to dig more, one question gets far too little attention: Who will actually process what comes out of the ground?

Between mining and the finished product lies a complex chain of separation, refining and advanced manufacturing. Since the 1990s, however, the United States has lost much of its critical mineral processing capacity.

Rebuilding domestic mineral supply chains will depend not only on resource availability and funding, but also on whether the U.S. can rebuild the technical expertise and industrial systems required to process those materials on a large scale.

How America lost its lead

The United States was a global leader in rare earth minerals from 1965 through the mid-1980s. It produced about 15,000 metric tons a year, about three times the amount produced by the rest of the world.

The Mountain Pass mine in California supplied the majority of the world’s rare earth elements used in electronics and the defense industry. American metallurgists, chemical engineers and processing facilities had significant expertise in its production and processing.

However, environmental damage, including wastewater pipeline leaks that released radioactive wastewater into the Mojave Desert during the 1980s and 1990s, and tightening regulations increased operating costs in the United States. During that period, much of the world’s manufacturing base for rare earth elements shifted to China, where labor costs were lower and environmental regulations were less stringent.

As production grew abroad, U.S. production of rare earth elements fell sharply – to near zero by the early 2000s, according to the U.S. Geological Survey.

In recent years, as much as 90% of the rare earth minerals extracted in the United States and allied countries have been shipped to China for processing. In 2024, the U.S. relied on imports for about 80% of its rare earth compounds and metals.

Why bringing processing back is not simple

The U.S. government is now pushing to increase domestic critical minerals production, citing national security. But building a processing facility is not like opening a warehouse.

These facilities require years of permitting, highly specialized equipment and a workforce trained in metallurgy, chemical engineering and industrial systems operation. The time from investment decision to production can stretch across a decade.

The U.S. currently has two domestic rare earth mining locations. One is in southeast Georgia, which extracts rare earth elements as a byproduct of heavy mineral sand mining. The other is Mountain Pass, which produces bastnaesite, a rare earth carbonate mineral. The mines produced about 51,000 metric tons of rare earth mineral concentrates in 2025, while the U.S. imported about 21,000 metric tons of rare earth compounds, most of them from China, according to 2025 U.S. Geological Survey data.

The U.S. has also lost expertise. Mining and mineral engineering education programs now produce only a few hundred graduates per year, well below the levels of past decades. The number of accredited programs has declined since the 1980s. Many faculty members are nearing retirement.

Industry projections estimate that the mining workforce will need to grow significantly in the coming years to meet rising demand. Specialized skills in areas such as rare earth separation, metallurgical testing and environmental systems design require years of training and practical experience. And while mining can produce high-paying jobs, the industry also has a reputation for environmental damage and hazardous conditions.

Environmental compliance is part of the skill set

Processing critical minerals is a dirty industry. That fact has made it more difficult for processing and refining companies to operate in the U.S.

For example, separating rare earth elements typically involves chemical processing with acids and solvents. When waste streams are poorly managed, these processes can produce toxic wastewater and air pollution and contribute to soil erosion. In parts of China where rare earth production expanded rapidly in the 1990s and 2000s, contamination from mining and processing has polluted rivers and damaged nearby farmland, and the wastewater can seep into soil and groundwater.

In the U.S., modern facilities must meet strict federal and state standards for air quality, water discharge and waste management that raise the cost of processing. These regulations were developed in response to environmental disasters, like the Cuyahoga River fire of 1969, when industrial oil and waste on the river burned, and hazardous waste crises like the Love Canal disaster that led to landmark environmental laws.

Operating a refinery or separation facility in compliance with regulatory standards today requires expertise in pollution control, waste treatment and sustainable process design. That requires a workforce skilled in materials science and engineering and with knowledge of environmental systems. Without environmental expertise, operational risks, regulatory challenges and project delays can increase, affecting long-term viability.

How to build a US supply chain

Rebuilding U.S. supply chains will require more than expanding extraction.

Canada’s critical minerals strategy offers an example. It connects mining projects to battery and electric vehicle manufacturing by funding processing facilities, developing regional supply chain hubs and investing in workforce training programs tied to those industries.

Australia has combined critical minerals policies with incentives and public financing to encourage domestic mineral processing, while also expanding university and vocational training in mining, metallurgy and mineral processing.

The United States has many of the key ingredients needed to rebuild its processing capacity, including research universities and workers with transferable industrial skills. Land-grant and technical universities could expand programs that integrate mining, materials science, environmental restoration and recycling. In regions such as Appalachia, where coal’s decline has left workers with skills but few job opportunities, retraining programs for new mineral recovery jobs could help people transition to a new industry.

A few federal programs support parts of this transition, including research hubs that develop new extraction and processing technologies, apprenticeship initiatives and university-industry partnerships. However, these efforts are spread across multiple agencies, with limited coordination to align priorities and investment.

The real bottleneck

America’s critical minerals strategy is often discussed in terms of geology and geopolitics – where resources are located and who has access to them.

But supply chains depend on people and systems. That’s America’s real bottleneck in creating a domestic supply chain.

A successful domestic supply chain will require workers who know how to separate neodymium from praseodymium, operate solvent extraction circuits and maintain hydrometallurgical plants within regulatory standards. These are highly specialized skills that take years to develop.

The United States has significant mineral resources and growing policy support. Now, it needs to pay attention to the workforce and industrial capacity needed to transform those resources into usable materials.

This gap developed over decades. Addressing it will likely require sustained investment alongside broader mineral policy changes such as permitting reforms and investment in domestic processing facilities.

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. The missing link in America’s critical minerals push isn’t mining – it’s processing expertise – https://theconversation.com/the-missing-link-in-americas-critical-minerals-push-isnt-mining-its-processing-expertise-281002

Source: The Conversation – USA (2) – By Joanna Woronkowicz, Associate Professor of Public and Environmental Affairs, Indiana University

Though artificial intelligence is making it easier than ever to produce images, music and text, the technology is also making it harder for the people who have traditionally produced this work to earn a living.

A photographer who once was commissioned to make art for an advertising campaign is now competing with graphics produced by the AI image generator Midjourney. A novelist who used to make money on the side as a technical writer is seeing that work be replaced by a series of prompts in ChatGPT.

The extent to which AI will upend creative work remains unsettled. But that uncertainty has made guaranteeing income for creatives a more viable policy idea.

In fact, creatives in New York recently participated in the largest basic income program for artists in U.S. history, the Guaranteed Income for Artists initiative.

Spearheaded by Creatives Rebuild New York and primarily funded by the Andrew W. Mellon Foundation, the program gave 2,400 artists across New York state US$1,000 a month beginning in June 2022. There were no work requirements and no restrictions on how the money could be spent. The program sought to improve the financial stability of artists and encourage the public to see them as workers who deserve a stable income and social support.

As researchers who study artists, cultural work and public policy, we evaluated this program to see whether it achieved its stated goals. Our main finding was simple: Artists did not stop working. Instead, they changed the kind of work they did.

Cash buys time

Artists often make choices that look strange in standard economic models, which typically assume workers will prioritize higher wages while balancing work against leisure time.

Artists, on the other hand, may stay in poorly paid, unstable arts work, even when other work pays more. Economists have long described this as a “work-preference” model. Put plainly, they argue that artists get value from the work itself, not just from the paycheck.

The guaranteed-income program, which was geared toward low-income artists, offered a rare chance to see how a financial cushion would influence the kind of work they focused on, along with their overall earnings.

The program selected artists through a weighted lottery. It adopted an expansive definition of “artist.” Anyone engaged in artistic, cultural or community-centered creative practices – such as musicians, storytellers or muralists – was eligible to apply. However, it excluded commercial workers like wedding photographers or food caterers.

Our analysis, which is forthcoming in the Journal of Cultural Economics, compared artists who received payments with applicants who hadn’t been selected.

For purposes of the study, artists broke down their work time into “artistic/cultural practice(s),” “other arts work” and “non-arts work.” The work didn’t necessarily have to involve a paycheck or stipend; it could simply mean time spent on a personal artistic pursuit. However, it’s safe to assume that “non-arts work” usually involved some sort of side job to earn extra money.

The results lined up almost exactly with what the work-preference model predicts. Artists who received the payments spent about 3.9 more hours per week on arts work than comparable artists who did not receive the payments. They also spent about 2.4 fewer hours per week on non-arts work.

Opponents to basic income programs often argue that recipients will become less motivated to do any work whatsoever. That isn’t what happened, though. The money helped artists move time out of work they were doing mainly to survive, and into the creative work they preferred.

Earnings told a messier story

The earnings results were more complicated.

Artists receiving the monthly payments earned significantly less from non-arts work. That makes sense, given that many of them switched away from non-arts work. But total earnings from all work also fell by about $11,600 a year on average, close to the $12,000 annual value of the cash payments.

But we cannot confidently say that the basic income program reduced total earnings by that amount. That’s because artists’ incomes are so volatile: A few commissions, contracts, sales or cancellations can dramatically change what artists earn in a given year. Income varied widely among both the artists who received monthly payments and the applicants who hadn’t been selected, which made it hard to see the precise cause and effect of the program on total earnings.

The program may have given artists enough financial room to stop chasing some non-arts income, but it did not change their overall income from where it had been.

That is a very different policy effect than “more cash equals more income.” It is closer to “more cash equals more control over time.”

A lesson beyond the arts

The findings do not mean that guaranteed income is the right policy for everyone. Artists are unique. Many have strong reasons to keep doing creative work even when it pays poorly.

The study also took place after the COVID-19 pandemic, while the arts and entertainment sector was still recovering. And Creatives Rebuild New York’s guaranteed-income program was a temporary, one-time opportunity.

A longer-term follow-up could show whether these shifts lasted. Did artists keep making more art after the payments ended? Did the extra time they spent on their own artistic pursuits lead to new work, new income or more stable careers? Those questions remain open.

But to us, the most important lesson may be that work is not one thing.

A monthly cash transfer can reduce one kind of work while increasing another. It can lower earnings from gigs people take mainly to pay the bills, while freeing up time to spend on work that is meaningful, socially valuable or personally sustaining.

For artists in this program, $1,000 a month did not buy a vacation or a chance to slack off. It bought time for work they valued more.

That distinction matters, particularly as debates over the use of basic income policies grow alongside advances in AI and automation. The question is not only whether people work when they receive cash with no strings attached. It is what kind of work becomes possible when financial pressures ease.

Joanna was previously funded by Creatives Rebuild New York to conduct an independent evaluation of their Guaranteed Income for Artists program.

Doug Noonan receives funding from the National Endowment for the Arts. He previously was funded by Creatives Rebuild New York to conduct an independent evaluation of their Guaranteed Income for Artists program.

– ref. We studied what happened when financially struggling artists received $1,000 a month, no strings attached, for 18 months – https://theconversation.com/we-studied-what-happened-when-financially-struggling-artists-received-1-000-a-month-no-strings-attached-for-18-months-280799

Source: The Conversation – USA (3) – By Lynn S. Neal, Professor of Religious Studies, Wake Forest University

At the world premiere of “The Devil Wears Prada 2,” actress Meryl Streep leaned into her character’s devilish persona. She wore the character’s signature sunglasses along with long black gloves and a flowing red leather cape from Givenchy’s Winter 2026 collection.

Streep’s outfit, though, is a small moment in a much larger story – one in which Christianity and fashion have been intertwined for centuries, sometimes as adversaries, sometimes as collaborators.

While neither of the “Devil Wears Prada” movies revolve around Christianity, the invocation of the devil taps into an older moral rhetoric. For centuries, fashion was cast as the troublesome, if not villainous, enemy of a pure and spiritual Christianity – a symbol of putting material desires before holy ones. For example, 18th-century cleric and founder of Methodism John Wesley urged his followers to show their faith by dressing “neatly” and “plainly.”

Yet Christian imagery has come to shape the industry in profound ways. As a scholar who researches the relationship between Christianity and fashion, I have traced how Christian imagery circulates in surprising forms. The devil, for instance, occasionally appeared in fashion advertising to suggest sin, sensuality and transgression.

Christian imagery of angels and Eve

In the mid-20th century, Christianity often occupied a supporting role in the fashion industry. It showed up in articles by Christian religious leaders and color photographs of Christian art and architecture published in fashion magazines.

For example, articles on how Christianity addresses contemporary problems by Catholic Bishop Fulton Sheen and Columbia University Chaplain James A. Pike appeared in Vogue alongside ads for makeup and fashion photo shoots.

Christian imagery also appeared in fashion advertisements featuring “Sunday best” clothing and Easter dresses. Ads showed angels gifting consumers “heavenly” products that promised beauty and ease.

The devil only occasionally played a part in ads for fashion products, such as perfumes, makeup and handkerchiefs. These advertisements depicted the devil as a snake or alluded to him and his role in the Book of Genesis. The biblical passage recounts how the serpent, typically interpreted as the devil in Christian theology, tempted Eve to sin by eating the forbidden fruit. Eve then offers the fruit to Adam, and, having both sinned, they realize their nakedness, are ashamed and make clothing.

Fashion advertisements, ranging from Revlon in the 1940s to Hanes in the 1960s, celebrated Eve’s rebellious action. Revlon “double” dared women to try their “Fatal Apple” makeup so they could look like Eve, while Hanes stated, “Poor Girl! She never knew the temptation of seamless stockings by Hanes,” next to an illustration of Eve holding an apple by a serpent.

Ads played with the idea of fashion as a temptation in which female consumers should indulge. Female consumers were urged to “Be Eve” and give into the desire to purchase products.

The devil was eclipsed as ads featured garden settings and products that promised “the look of Eve.” Eve symbolized beauty and promised consumers the same results through their purchasing power.

A 1967 ad for the “Eve Petticoat” issued an invitation: “Come, pretty girl. Be Eve, if you wish.” In that same decade, Catalina’s “part of the art of Eve” campaign for their swimwear showed what this meant. Each ad featured a woman in a provocative pose wearing a Catalina bathing suit in a garden setting. By donning Catalina, the ad implies, the wearer can become Eve – attractive, stylish and sexy. By highlighting Eve’s rebellion alongside her beauty, ads framed her as a fashion heroine.

Eve’s prominent role in advertising demonstrates how the Judeo-Christian tradition permeated American culture, including the fashion industry.

An evolving fashion landscape

While Christianity appeared in industry advertisements, it also slowly began to take a more prominent role in fashion garments, as designers became more bold. Christianity inspired the design of many garments, and later, Christian figures began to appear on designer garments.

For example, in the 1960s, American designer Geoffrey Beene, known for his minimalist design aesthetic, drew inspiration from the cassocks worn by Catholic priests. So, too, did Spanish designer Cristóbal Balenciaga. In 1967, his black evening gown with cape radiated simplicity in form and draping even as it also referenced the attire of Catholic priests.

While Beene and Balenciaga received praise for their restraint and elegance, the lesser-known London-born designer Walter Holmes created controversy with his “mini-medievals” in 1968. Modeled after a monk’s robe and a nun’s habit, Holmes combined Christian inspiration with the miniskirt trend, which some people found fun, while others labeled it offensive.

In the 1990s, Italian luxury fashion brand Krizia’s collection included women wearing cassock-like dresses, while Italian fashion designer Stefano Pilati’s 2010 line for Yves Saint Laurent played on the attire of Catholic nuns.

More recently, in spring 2020, French designer Virginie Viard’s designs for Chanel referenced nuns and Catholic school girl uniforms.

‘Spiritual marketplace’

In the 1990s, Christianity began playing an even larger part in fashion, as the Virgin Mary and saints began to appear on garments. Prior to this, designers often avoided using religious figures; they preferred more abstract interpretations; it also helped prevent any controversy that might emerge from depicting sacred figures.

Designer Gianni Versace challenged this tacit rule in his Fall/Winter 1991 collection. It included biker jackets adorned with bejeweled crosses and, in the finale, a halter top that featured the Virgin Mary made out of a mosaic of jewels. The garment was also the centerpiece of ads for the collection and showcased the fashion potential of Christian figures.

Versace’s Marian halter reflected the larger shift away from institutional religion toward individual spirituality. Christian symbols were lifted from church contexts and recirculated through popular culture, including fashion, in new ways. Versace’s rock star rendering of the Virgin Mary offered people a new way of seeing her – one open to interpretation outside of doctrine. Like Versace, they could claim her and reimagine her on their own terms.

Sociologist Wade Clark Roof described the religious landscape as a “spiritual marketplace.” People relied less on religious authorities and more on the meaning they could create from “available images, symbols, moral codes, and doctrines.”

Religious ideas and products circulated through music and movies, crystal shops and sports stadiums, Christian bookstores and designer collections. Within this spiritual bazaar, fashion became a place where people could reimagine Christian symbols, figures and history in new ways.

Modern-day trends

In the years since, Christianity has become a regular feature in fashion collections. Most notably, Christianity regularly has a starring role in the work of Dolce & Gabbana. Their 1998 “Stromboli” collection revolved around a Christian theme, a Marian procession, and dresses, tunics and blouses featuring Marian imagery.

The design duo have returned to Christian imagery several times. For example, their 2013 “Tailored Mosaic” line, inspired by the golden mosaics in the Cathedral of Monreale in Sicily, featured garments adorned with angels, saints and Mary, as well as biblical figures.

A critic called the mix of garments the designers’ “most heavenly offerings to date.” In 2018, Christian themes and symbols again permeated their collection.

It is now almost commonplace for fashion lines to reference or include Christian symbols, themes and figures. At New York Fashion Week in 2026, YesuGod, “a luxury Christian fashion house,” showcased its designs – garments adorned with the words “anno domini” and others with “the Lord is Coming.” More recently, in 2025, the vestments of Catholic priests inspired Dolce & Gabbana’s menswear collection.

The devil makes only an occasional appearance on the fashion runway and on the red carpet; historically, too, his presence has been minimal. Christian figures who embody ideals of goodness and holiness – saints, Mary and even Jesus – are the ones who rule the runway. Christianity and fashion are not so separate after all.

Lynn S. Neal 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. ‘Devil Wears Prada 2’ shows how Christian imagery circulates in unusual ways through the fashion industry – https://theconversation.com/devil-wears-prada-2-shows-how-christian-imagery-circulates-in-unusual-ways-through-the-fashion-industry-281458