Category: The Conversation – USA

Source: The Conversation – USA – By Rachel Porter, Assistant Professor of Political Science, University of Notre Dame

The ongoing government shutdown shows how hard it has become for Congress to do its most basic job: keeping the government running. Ending the stalemate will require lawmakers from both parties to strike a deal – a reminder that legislative progress depends on bipartisanship.

Politicians often call for greater cooperation across party lines, and research shows that bills rarely become law without it. Bipartisan deal-making is also popular with the public. Recent polls demonstrate that Americans are twice as likely to favor leaders who compromise to get things done over those who stick to their beliefs and accomplish less.

Yet partisan gridlock continues to stall policymaking.

The public’s growing frustration with “politics as usual” has led more political newcomers to run for and win office since 2016.

These “amateur” politicians, with no prior experience in elected office, present themselves as problem-solvers rather than politicians. Many come from outside government entirely – including business owners, military veterans and schoolteachers. Amateurs’ real-world backgrounds are often seen as assets by voters, donors and even politicians themselves – qualities thought to make them more effective in Congress.

As scholars of legislative politics, we wanted to interrogate that claim. And our new study reaches a different conclusion: Electing amateurs reduces bipartisan cooperation in Congress.

We find that, once in office, political newcomers are less likely than career politicians to work across the aisle. The very outsiders many voters hope will “fix” Congress contribute to the partisan divisions that keep it from functioning.

Amateurs are more likely to view bipartisanship as a concession rather than a tool for advancing policy.

What the data shows

We analyzed over 2.2 million policymaking actions from 1980 to 2022 to assess how often members of the U.S. House of Representatives worked across the aisle to co-author bills. Legislation developed through bipartisan collaboration is much more likely to become law. We then compared the collaboration patterns of first-term amateurs – legislators who have never held office and were just elected to Congress – against the collaboration patterns of established incumbents.

The difference was clear. Over the past four decades, amateur lawmakers worked across party lines far less often than incumbent lawmakers, both when developing their own legislation and when lending support to other legislators’ proposals.

This finding is not simply a “freshman effect,” observed among all new members of Congress who are still learning its norms and procedures.

First-term representatives who entered Congress with prior elected experience in state or local office engaged in bipartisan cooperation about as frequently as longer-serving incumbents. This suggests that what matters for bipartisan engagement is prior experience in elected office, not a lack of experience in Congress itself.

The impact on democracy

Amateur lawmakers are about 10–20 percentage points less likely to engage in bipartisanship during their first term than experienced officeholders.

To put it in perspective, the size of the amateur effect is roughly on par with the collapse in bipartisan relationships that followed the Jan. 6, 2021, attack on the U.S. Capitol. After some Republican members refused to certify the 2020 presidential election results, Democrats largely stopped working with them in that Congress – a decline in collaboration comparable in scale to what we observe among amateurs.

These effects are likely to continue, with amateurs making up nearly half of all first-term lawmakers in recent years compared to decades past. Notable amateurs elected to Congress include Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez, Lauren Boebert and Marjorie Taylor-Greene. As new cohorts of amateurs enter office each election cycle, this bipartisanship problem will persist.

Learning to value bipartisanship

Our findings show that amateur lawmakers’ approach to bipartisanship evolves as they gain office-holding experience. By their third term in Congress – about six years after first taking office – the gap in bipartisan behavior between amateurs and experienced legislators largely disappears.

Amateur lawmakers often bring impressive credentials to office – many are skilled professionals, public figures or highly educated.

However, we show that these backgrounds do not necessarily prepare amateurs for the demands of governing. Experience holding state or local office exposes politicians to the practical realities of policymaking. Lacking that experience, amateurs are more likely to view bipartisanship as giving up on their principles rather than a method for serving the public interest. We find that this tendency diminishes only as newcomers gain firsthand experience in the legislative process.

A global trend with familiar consequences

The U.S. is not alone in this trend toward amateurism. Around the world, political newcomers have surged to power amid frustration with traditional elites.

In Europe, Italy’s Five Star Movement in 2013 and France’s En Marche! movement in 2017 were led by and composed of amateur politicians who framed themselves as anti-establishment outsiders.

In each case, widespread outsider success in the legislature delivered disruption – but not necessarily effective governance. These groups often start with promises of pragmatic reform but struggle once in office.

Looking toward the midterms

Heading into 2026, many Americans continue to express deep dissatisfaction with their party’s establishment. Public approval of Congress is near historic lows, and polling shows that many voters believe professional politicians are self-interested and out of touch.

Amateur politicians are once again emerging in response to this discontent, positioning themselves as outsiders who can bring change to Washington. Yet, as our research shows, these newcomers will undervalue the bipartisan relationships needed to govern effectively.

As voters look for change, the challenge will be to balance the desire for fresh perspectives with the experience required to sustain cooperation – and to keep Congress, and democracy, working.

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. Amateur hour in Congress: How political newcomers fuel gridlock and government shutdowns – https://theconversation.com/amateur-hour-in-congress-how-political-newcomers-fuel-gridlock-and-government-shutdowns-268133

Source: The Conversation – USA (2) – By Jennifer L. Steele, Professor of Education, American University

The Trump administration has tried to upend many facets of American life, and many facets of higher education are no exception.

The Department of Education announced on Oct. 27, 2025, that it would resume canceling student loan debt for certain borrowers, after the government stopped this practice earlier in 2025.

The Trump administration also announced on Oct. 30 that it is planning to limit loan forgiveness eligibility for former students who work at nonprofit organizations and whose work has what the Trump administration calls a “substantial illegal purpose.” This means organizations that work with immigrants and transgender youth.

Amy Lieberman, education editor at The Conversation U.S., spoke with Jennifer L. Steele, a scholar of the economics of education, to understand the significance of these announcements and what student loan borrowers should know.

How big is the problem of student loan debt?

There is currently more than US$1.6 trillion of student loan debt in the United States. That number has been climbing dramatically over the past few decades. About 52% of federal loan borrowers are on track to repay their loans within 10 years.

It is difficult for some people to handle their debt levels, and they miss scheduled payments. This is especially true for people who didn’t finish their degrees or who attended for-profit colleges. It can also be challenging for people to repay their loans if they work in public service jobs that don’t pay a lot of money.

A person with an average amount of undergraduate federal student loan debt is paying about $299 a month over the course of the 10 years it typically takes to repay the loans. They could be paying considerably more if they have debt from graduate school, as well.

How do you qualify for student loan forgiveness?

Student loan forgiveness means that after people pay back their federal student loans for a certain number of years, the balance is forgiven by the Department of Education, which issues the loans.

There are two main kinds of forgiveness plans for federal student loans. There are income-driven repayment plans and public service loan forgiveness plans.

Income-driven repayment plans are used by people who do not earn enough money to easily meet the monthly payment on the standard 10-year repayment plan. In these cases, the Department of Education provides options that let you pay no more than 10% to 20% of your discretionary income toward your loans each month.

After the borrower makes the required monthly payments on time for 20 to 30 years, depending on the plan, the federal government will forgive any remaining balance.

It’s important to know that the amount you are being forgiven may be subject to income tax, as of 2026.

Borrowers who work full time for the federal, state, local or tribal government – including in schools and the military – can have their remaining debt forgiven after 10 years of monthly payments through public service loan forgiveness. This also applies to people working for nonprofit, nonpartisan organizations.

How are these standards on federal student loan forgiveness changing?

In March 2025, the Trump administration began slowing the public service loan forgiveness application process for some borrowers. It also vowed to scrutinize which public service employers qualify as nonprofit, nonpartisan groups.

The administration released new rules on Oct. 30 that will exclude borrowers from receiving new public service loan forgiveness credit if their employers are found to have a “substantial illegal purpose.” This includes organizations that provide support for undocumented immigrants, children who seek medical gender transitions, or for speech the administration deems to support terrorist, violent or discriminatory ideas. My research has shown that public service incentives help attract skilled workers to work for nonprofits and other organizations that try to help people. This shift may make it harder for organizations that help vulnerable communities to attract and retain staff.

Also in March, the Trump administration stopped processing applications for forgiveness under some income-dependent repayment plans, arguing that a recent court ruling that blocked a particular forgiveness plan initiated by then-President Joe Biden applied to other plans as well.

In response, the American Federation of Teachers filed a lawsuit in March demanding reinstatement of loan forgiveness for eligible borrowers.

In October, the American Federation of Teachers and the Trump administration reached a deal. Now, the Department of Education will resume processing student loan forgiveness applications for people who need financial help paying off the loans and for people who are public service workers. Still, public service workers might find that their work is now considered to have an “illegal purpose,” according to the White House, challenging their forgiveness.

They also agreed that loans eligible for tax-exempt forgiveness through 2025 will remain tax-exempt. In 2026, most student loan debt forgiveness will become taxable as income. There is an exception for public service workers and for former students who have been affected by college closures or fraud.

What does the new agreement mean for people who have student loans?

People who are already making monthly payments on existing federal student loans under income-driven repayment can continue to do so. People in a standard 10-year repayment plan who cannot afford their payments should know their income-driven repayment options and talk to their loan servicer if they wish to consider such a plan.

Also, beginning in 2026, the Education Department will offer a new kind of income-driven repayment plan called the repayment assistance plan. The department will begin phasing out some older income-driven plans in 2028.

How does this affect people considering going to college or graduate school?

If you are considering going to college or graduate school, it is important to know that lifetime federal debt limits for graduate degrees were reduced modestly by the tax breaks and spending cuts bill signed into law in July 2025. Lower federal debt limits decrease the amount of debt that borrowers can accrue.

People planning to go into public service with the expectation that their loans will be forgiven after 10 years should do so with modest caution. Public Service Loan Forgiveness was created by Congress to encourage public service careers, making it difficult to fully repeal. On the other hand, the Department of Education has discretion over which organizations count as public service employers, as the new Oct. 30 rules demonstrate. The department also has discretion over how easily and quickly it processes loan forgiveness applications.

Given the Trump administration’s public skepticism of not only Public Service Loan Forgiveness, but also public service employment in general, it is possible that it would continue to erode this incentive for public service workers.

Borrowers can help their case by annually certifying their employment with an eligible public service employer and by maintaining records of their loan’s eligibility, repayment plan and monthly payments. Because employers’ Public Service Loan Forgiveness eligibility may change under the administration’s Oct. 30 rules, borrowers should also stay up to date on the eligibility of their current or prospective employers.

Typically, taking on some debt to get a degree is not a bad investment. You just have to be careful with how much debt you are accumulating and whether it is reasonable given how much you expect to earn after you graduate. There are simple online tools that can help you decide whether the investment and potential debt burden are worthwhile.

Jennifer L. Steele 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. Trump is changing student loan forgiveness rules – barring some public workers from getting relief, but resuming it for others – https://theconversation.com/trump-is-changing-student-loan-forgiveness-rules-barring-some-public-workers-from-getting-relief-but-resuming-it-for-others-268351

Source: The Conversation – USA (2) – By Cassie Powell, Assistant Professor of Law, Legal Practice, University of Richmond

One of America’s most affordable paths to homeownership is slipping away.

At manufactured home parks – sometimes called trailer parks or mobile home parks – rents are rapidly rising due to large-scale buyouts by private equity firms.

Although private equity’s foray into the housing market is not new, the buyout of mobile home parks by investment firms is on the rise – with devastating consequences for residents. Over the past decade, rents in these parks have risen 45%, according to census data. Once a park is sold, the risk of eviction rises significantly in the following year.

I’m a poverty law attorney in Virginia, and many of my clients are residents of mobile home parks. Over the past four years, I’ve watched their communities get sold, one by one, to large investment firms. Many of them are desperately struggling to protect their homes – for some, their only source of wealth – in the face of exploding rents and threats of eviction.

The immovable mobile home

Today, the term “mobile home” is a misnomer.

Historically, mobile homes were trailers designed for travelers and workers living near factories. With so many veterans returning home after World War II, trailers provided an easy and affordable way for them to obtain housing in the face of shortages. The trailers could be moved from place to place as people either attended school or sought work.

A shift occurred in the 1950s. Those with higher incomes bought houses, and those with less means continued to live in mobile homes. Eventually, mobile home communities cropped up throughout the country as places for people to park their mobile homes for months, years or permanently.

Nowadays, mobile homes are more often called “manufactured homes.” They are assembled in factories and rarely move once they’ve been purchased and settled. In fact, more than 90% of manufactured homes never move from their original site.

Today, around 20.6 million Americans live in a mobile or manufactured home. About one-third of mobile homes are located in mobile home communities.

In these communities, the residents usually own the home itself, but they rent the lot that the home sits on. They are responsible for the upkeep of their home, but the park owners are responsible for park infrastructure, including street maintenance and sewage systems.

Although many Americans still think of these homes as mobile, they’re prohibitively expensive to move. Many have had the wheels or hitches removed years ago. Additionally, many owners of trailers or manufactured homes have invested in additions, such as porches or extra rooms, that have made these homes even more difficult to relocate.

Private equity swoops in

According to the National Low Income Housing Coalition, no state has enough affordable housing for those with the lowest incomes.

In the midst of a housing affordability crisis, mobile homes are seen as a way for those with limited incomes to generate wealth and access homeownership. Indeed, over half of all manufactured homeowners earn less than US$50,000 a year, and one-third are over age 60.

However, this type of homeownership is becoming more difficult to maintain for many due to the increased buyout of mobile home parks by large investment firms – a trend that mirrors the rest of the housing market.

Increasingly, housing is being treated as a commodity rather than an essential social good – what’s sometimes called the “financialization of the housing market.”

For private equity firms, housing has been a fruitful investment. But in order to maximize returns on their investments, they usually increase rents and cut costs. Company leadership is often totally divorced from their tenants; instead, they hire on-site and regional managers who exercise disproportionate control over evictions and rule enforcement. Overall, this financialization has transformed the way those with limited incomes are able to obtain shelter – including the owners of mobile homes.

In the past, manufactured home communities were largely “mom-and-pop” enterprises. Though they were still subjected to abusive practices, tenants usually knew their landlords and saw them often, and rents were much more stable.

In 2020 and 2021, institutional investors accounted for 23% of all manufactured home park purchases, up from 13% between 2017-2019. Now, 23 private equity firms own over 1,800 parks in the U.S.

Once bought, lot rents usually begin rising. Mobile home park residents are especially vulnerable due to their circumstances: Since their homes are so difficult to move, they are essentially trapped when faced with rising lot rents. One study of Florida mobile home communities found that in the months after a park sale, eviction filings increased by 40%. Residents often find themselves forced to choose between paying exorbitant costs to move their home or paying unaffordable lot rents.

State laws put the squeeze on tenants

Because they’re so unique, manufactured home communities are often governed by a special set of state laws.

In my state, Virginia, the Manufactured Home Lot Rental Act covers rules that park owners and residents must follow. If someone is evicted for failing to pay their lot rent, they still own their home but can no longer live in the park.

Often, states impose short time frames for someone to move their home following an eviction. In North Carolina, for example, a tenant has just 21 days to remove the manufactured home from the park following an eviction judgment. In Virginia, a homeowner has 90 days after being evicted to move or sell their mobile home, but they must continue paying rent during that time.

In many states, if a resident fails to move their home in time, the park owner may repossess the home or move it. Even if the resident lives in a state that continues to protect ownership of the mobile home against park owners, it is often difficult to enforce, as park owners may now have a lien on the mobile home for any amount the resident owes. The result is that many residents who are evicted lose their home.

Putting power back in the hands of residents

Currently, only 22 states have laws that require advance notice to residents of park sales. Most simply provide a timeline for owners to inform park residents of their intent to sell.

Nonetheless, many states are coming up with strategies to keep residents from being forced out and help them assume ownership of the parks.

Recently, Maine passed a law that gives park residents a right of first refusal if their park is up for sale. The law also levies a fee for out-of-state investors who buy parks, which can put residents in a better position to purchase the parks where they live.

In other cases, residents have banded together to buy the park by forming a cooperative with external support. They then apply for financing and purchase the park. Resident Owned Communities USA is one example of an organization that works to support resident ownership in manufactured home parks.

Many advocates are also pushing for rent control policies in mobile home parks, limiting the amount that new owners can raise rents annually. In 2019, New York state passed a law limiting annual rent hikes in mobile home parks to 3%, though this can climb to 6% annually in certain circumstances.

Additional solutions include limiting evictions to narrow circumstances, tightening lot lease contracts to give residents additional protections and strengthening zoning rights for existing mobile home parks.

In my practice, I see park residents eager to maintain their long-standing homes and communities in the face of outside investors and unresponsive local governments. But until these solutions are widely adopted, residents will continue to lose their wealth – and with it, this crucial path to homeownership.

I represent tenants facing eviction from mobile home parks, as well as tenant associations in mobile home parks advocating against displacement.

– ref. Private equity firms are snapping up mobile home parks − and driving out the residents who can least afford to lose them – https://theconversation.com/private-equity-firms-are-snapping-up-mobile-home-parks-and-driving-out-the-residents-who-can-least-afford-to-lose-them-264456

Source: The Conversation – USA (2) – By Serdar Yalçin, Assistant Professor of Art History, Macalester College

The earliest form of the signature came from ancient Iraq in the form of cylinder seals.

Mesopotamians, the ancient inhabitants of the land between the Euphrates and Tigris rivers, are credited for many firsts in human history, including writing, urbanism and the state. Among these inventions, cylinder seals are perhaps the most distinctive but least known.

Seals as artifacts

Thousands of these tiny objects – often no bigger than 2 inches (5 centimeters) in height and 1 inch (2.5 cm) in diameter – are displayed in museums today. They testify to an artistic tradition in ancient Iraq and Syria that remained uninterrupted from the late fourth to first millennia B.C.E.

In essence, a cylinder seal was a small sculpture that served a crucial utilitarian purpose: signing documents. It was generally made of a precious or semiprecious stone such as lapis lazuli, agate or chalcedony. Images and texts were engraved into the stone with a technique called intaglio. Notably, these engravings would need to be made in reverse of how the markings would look when it was used.

When rolled on a moist clay tablet, these engravings left low-relief markings, signifying that the object’s owner authorized the written document. In this respect, a cylinder seal’s impression is the ancestor of modern handwritten and digital signatures.

Seals and identity

While cylinder seals were a creation of the Sumerians who inhabited southern Mesopotamia about 6,000 years ago, they rapidly spread to the rest of Western Asia and the eastern Mediterranean and became important items in everyday life.

Communities in this vast region – especially those in Mesopotamia, an area poor in raw materials – imported stones from distant lands to make their seals. Mesopotamians extracted diorite from Oman, lapis lazuli from Afghanistan, and carnelian and agate from the Indus Valley and other parts of South Asia.

Seals made of these exotic stones were extra valuable, so only the elite could afford them. Often affiliated with the state and temples, these people were typically royalty, high-level bureaucrats and priests. In contrast, people from lower classes used seals made of less valuable materials, such as limestone, clay or glass.

Mesopotamians and their contemporaries in Western Asia expressed their identities not just through the material of their seals but also through the texts and images engraved on them. The seal texts often introduced the owners with their names, genealogies, gender, professions and hometowns. Thanks to this information, researchers know that not just men but also wealthy women owned seals, albeit in much smaller proportions.

Religious identity, too, was communicated via long prayers addressed to personal gods or via images depicting gods and worshippers.

Making seals

The scope of Mesopotamian imagery depicted on cylinder seals was broad. For thousands of years, seal-cutters – the artisans who exclusively specialized in making seals – carved scenes representing daily life and nature, religious rituals, warfare, architectural vistas and mythical stories involving gods, heroes and hybrid creatures such as winged horses and griffins.

Much of this rich imagery was a result of the owners’ personal choices, often referencing their identities. In some exceptional cases, Mesopotamian kings or their aides monitored and approved the designs of the cylinder seals they gifted to high-level officials.

Many seals seem to have been already carved with the popular cultural motifs before they were sold to clients, although solid archaeological and archival evidence is still needed to confirm this. When a customer bought these premade objects, they may have asked for a new inscription or some adjustments to the imagery. Most known cylinder seals were likely carved anew for elite clients, especially for those from the highest echelons of the society such as royalty.

Cylinder seals open a wide window not just into ancient Mesopotamian art and culture but also into the minds of individual Mesopotamians. Carved with personalized images and texts reflecting their views on life and society, seals were intimately connected to their owners. Losing one’s seal was considered a very negative omen for its patron. In contrast, modern signatures are often depersonalized and generic.

Cylinder seals – along with city life, organized religion and bureaucracy – were a key component of ancient Mesopotamian civilization. These features, in different forms and proportions, continue to define modern life today.

Serdar Yalçin 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. Signatures meant more in Mesopotamia than they do now − what cylinder seals say about ancient and modern life – https://theconversation.com/signatures-meant-more-in-mesopotamia-than-they-do-now-what-cylinder-seals-say-about-ancient-and-modern-life-266547

Source: The Conversation – USA (3) – By Y. Tony Yang, Endowed Professor of Health Policy and Associate Dean, George Washington University

When four states between 2015 and 2021 stopped allowing parents to opt their children out of receiving routine vaccines without a medical reason, vaccination rates among kindergartners increased substantially. That’s the key finding from our new study published in the medical journal JAMA Pediatrics.

All states require children entering kindergarten to be vaccinated against infectious diseases like measles and polio. Parents can request medical exemptions if, for example, their child has a severe allergy to a vaccine ingredient. But most states also allow nonmedical exemptions based on religious or philosophical beliefs. To examine whether state policy on vaccine exemptions could counter falling vaccination rates, we probed data from approximately 2.8 million kindergartners across multiple states from 2011 to 2023.

California, New York, Maine and Connecticut completely eliminated nonmedical exemptions during this period. In those states, exemption rates fell by 3.2 percentage points on average within three years – meaning tens of thousands more children gained protection against diseases like measles.

We examined rates for all four vaccines that are required in most states for children to attend school: diphtheria-tetanus-acellular pertussis, hepatitis B, measles-mumps-rubella and polio. Vaccination rates increased for all of them after nonmedical exemptions were eliminated.

One common concern with not allowing nonmedical exemptions is that parents would simply seek medical exemptions instead. But that didn’t happen in any significant numbers, we found. While California did see an initial uptick in medical exemptions after its 2015 repeal, they declined after the state implemented centralized review processes in 2021. Overall, medical exemptions increased by only 0.4 percentage points – a statistically significant but clinically modest difference.

We also examined states that took a more limited approach. Vermont repealed philosophical exemptions but retained religious exemptions in 2015. Washington repealed nonmedical exemptions only for the MMR vaccine in 2019. These partial repeals were less effective, producing smaller and less persistent increases in vaccination rates than those from total repeal.

The timing matters too. Our findings show that vaccination rates rise over time, with the largest increases observed three to four years after repeal. This is partly because many states don’t immediately enforce legislation for all children, allowing for gradual phase-in periods.

Why it matters

Vaccination rates for routine childhood vaccines are falling sharply in the U.S. – primarily because more families are seeking exemptions for their children. Between 2011 and 2023, overall kindergarten exemption rates more than doubled, from 1.6% to 3.3%. This trend has accelerated during and after the COVID-19 pandemic, as vaccine skepticism has become increasingly mainstream

This trend leaves more children vulnerable to preventable diseases. Measles, for example, requires about 95% vaccination coverage to prevent outbreaks, and even small drops below that threshold can leave communities vulnerable. In 2025, the country surpassed 1,600 measles cases – the highest count since 1992. Public health experts worry that the U.S. could lose its measles elimination status, which was declared by the World Health Organization in 2000.

Our study shows that comprehensive policy changes can meaningfully protect vaccination coverage. When states eliminate religious, philosophical and other nonmedical vaccine exemptions, childhood vaccination rates increase – without parents simply shifting to medical exemptions.

These findings provide valuable evidence in the face of declining vaccination coverage, and they reveal what’s at stake for states considering weakening vaccine requirements. In September 2025, Florida announced its plan to end vaccine mandates for hepatitis B, chickenpox and bacterial meningitis, with seven additional diseases expected to follow.

What’s next

Our research demonstrates that policy-level solutions work. But they require comprehensive implementation and adequate enforcement mechanisms.

We’re now expanding this research to look at a critical question: Do unvaccinated children cluster together in certain neighborhoods or communities? Even when a state’s overall vaccination rate looks healthy, there might be specific towns or school districts where rates are dangerously low – leaving those areas vulnerable to disease outbreaks.

Understanding these patterns will help public health officials target interventions for the communities at highest risk for outbreaks.

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

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. Strict school vaccine mandates work, and parents don’t game the system − new research – https://theconversation.com/strict-school-vaccine-mandates-work-and-parents-dont-game-the-system-new-research-268558

Source: The Conversation – USA (3) – By Prachi Gala, Associate Professor of Marketing, Kennesaw State University

When corporate crises hit, the public looks to the CEO. From product recalls to workplace discrimination, to customer mistreatment scandals, CEOs are often thrust into the spotlight and forced to apologize.

But do the exact words they choose really matter?

I’m a professor of marketing, and my preliminary research suggests the answer is yes. In fact, they can even move stock prices.

A tale of 2 apologies

Consider two examples from the not-too-distant past. When Samsung Electronics had to recall 2.5 million smartphones in 2016 due to battery fires, the company ran full-page ads in major American newspapers that said, “We are truly sorry.” Despite the apology, Samsung’s stock continued falling, wiping out billions of dollars in market value.

Contrast that with a famous case: the 1982 Tylenol crisis, in which seven people died after taking capsules that a still-unidentified criminal had laced with cyanide, circumventing the company’s safety protocols. The then-CEO of Tylenol’s parent company, Johnson & Johnson, said “I apologize” to consumers and immediately ordered a nationwide recall, costing the company over US$100 million. His direct acknowledgment of responsibility and swift action helped restore public trust and became a case study in effective crisis leadership. The company’s stock price didn’t take much of a hit, either.

While the two cases are different in many ways, together they illustrate a pattern my colleagues and I observed in our study: Markets respond differently to “I apologize” versus “We apologize.”

Investors reward personal accountability

I collaborated with marketing professors Jennifer H. Tatara and Courtney B. Peters to analyze 224 corporate apologies between 1996 and 2023. Using event-study methods common in finance, we tracked unusual stock returns around apology announcements and linked them to how CEOs framed their statements.

Our results, which we are preparing for publication, were striking. CEOs who said “I apologize” often saw short-term stock returns rise by a statistically significant amount. CEOs who said “We apologize” saw no such effect. Saying “I apologize” lessens the market penalty by roughly 86%, we found.

We think this is because markets reward leaders who take individual responsibility. “I” signals personal accountability and decisiveness. “We,” by comparison, dilutes ownership of the problem.

But context matters, we found. When we zeroed in on diversity-related cases – those involving mistreatment based on race, gender, disability or LGBTQ+ status, for example – the positive effect of “I apologize” weakened or disappeared.

That’s because investors often interpret diversity crises as signs of systemic failure, rather than isolated mistakes. In those cases, investors, employees and the public may expect accountability that goes beyond the CEO. A lone “I apologize” can seem hollow, while “We apologize” may resonate more by acknowledging shared institutional responsibility.

Beyond CEOs: Why stakeholders should care

Apologies are among the most scrutinized executive communications. Their effects ripple across different audiences.

For investors, apology language provides a real-time signal of leadership quality and future governance. Our research shows these signals are strong enough to move stock prices.

For corporate boards, an apology can be as important as a balance sheet in shaping market perceptions. Our research suggests that boards should insist leaders prepare for crisis communications as a standard part of risk management.

For employees and customers, apology language sends a message about corporate culture. “I” can demonstrate accountability; “we” can affirm inclusion and shared responsibility. Both matter, depending on the situation.

Leading in a skeptical era

Corporate apologies are nothing new. But in today’s environment – where social media amplifies every word and trust in institutions is fragile – the stakes are higher. A single poorly framed statement can trigger outrage, stock sell-offs or viral boycotts.

The good news is that “sorry” doesn’t have to be the hardest word. In fact, this research suggests that a good apology can pay off, literally. The key is to remember that apologies aren’t one-size-fits-all. The right words depend on the nature of the wrongdoing.

Prachi Gala 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. Investors prefer ‘I’ over ‘we’ when CEOs apologize – https://theconversation.com/investors-prefer-i-over-we-when-ceos-apologize-266294

Source: The Conversation – USA – By Charlie Hunt, Associate Professor of Political Science, Boise State University

Many Americans will be voting on Election Day – or have already cast votes – in races for statewide office, local positions and on ballot initiatives with major implications for democracy.

Congress is not on the ballot this November, but it will be in the 2026 midterms. A year from now, Americans in every state and district will get to vote for whom they want representing their interests in Washington.

But right now, Congress isn’t giving the American people much to go on.

As the shutdown of the federal government passes the one-month mark, the U.S. House of Representatives has been in recess for over 40 days. That’s the longest it’s ever stayed out of town outside of its typical summer recesses or the weeks leading up to their own elections.

Notably, the shutdown does not mean that Congress can’t meet. In fact, it must meet to end the shutdown legislatively. The Senate, for example, has taken votes recently on judicial nominations, a major defense authorization bill and a resolution on tariff policy.

Senators have also continued to hold bipartisan behind-the-scenes negotiations to end the shutdown impasse.

But with dwindling SNAP benefits, skyrocketing health care premiums and other major shutdown impacts beginning to set in, the House has all but abdicated its position as “The People’s Chamber.”

Long ‘path to irrelevance’

In addition to not meeting for any votes, Speaker of the House Mike Johnson has refused to swear in Democratic U.S. Rep.-elect Adelita Grijalva of Arizona. Despite Johnson’s assurances, the shutdown does not prevent the House from meeting in a brief session to swear in Grijalva as a member for Arizona’s 7th District, which has been without representation since March.

Along with Casey Burgat and SoRelle Wyckoff Gaynor, I am co-author of a textbook, “Congress Explained: Representation and Lawmaking in the First Branch.” In that book, it was important to us to highlight Congress’ clear role as the preeminent lawmaking body in the federal government.

But throughout the shutdown battle, Congress – particularly the House of Representatives – has been unwilling to assert itself as an equal branch of government. Beyond policymaking, Congress has been content to hand over many of its core constitutional powers to the executive branch. As a Congress expert who loves the institution and profoundly respects its constitutionally mandated role, I have found this renunciation of responsibility difficult to watch.

And yet, Congress’ path to irrelevance as a body of government did not begin during the shutdown, or even in January 2025.

It is the result of decades of erosion that created a political culture in which Congress, the first branch of government listed in the Constitution, is relegated to second-class status.

The Constitution puts Congress first

The 18th-century framers of the Constitution viewed Congress as the foundation of republican governance, deliberately placing it first in Article 1 to underscore its primacy. Congress was assigned the pivotal tasks of lawmaking and budgeting because controlling government finances was seen as essential to limiting executive power and preventing abuses that the framers associated with monarchy.

Alternatively, a weak legislature and an imperial executive were precisely what many of the founders feared. With legislative authority in the hands of Congress, power would at least be decentralized among a wide variety of elected leaders from different parts of the country, each of whom would jealously guard their own local interests.

But Trump’s first 100 days turned the founders’ original vision on its head, leaving the “first branch” to play second fiddle.

Like most recent presidents, Trump came in with his party in control of the presidency, the House and the Senate. Yet despite the lawmaking power that this governing trifecta can bring, the Republican majorities in Congress have mostly been irrelevant to Trump’s agenda.

Instead, Congress has relied on Trump and the executive branch to make changes to federal policy and in many cases to reshape the federal government completely.

Trump has signed more than 210 executive orders, a pace faster than any president since Franklin D. Roosevelt. The Republican Congress has shown little interest in pushing back on any of them. Trump has also aggressively reorganized, defunded or simply deleted entire agencies, such as the U.S. Agency for International Development and the Consumer Financial Protection Bureau.

These actions have been carried out even though Congress has a clear constitutional authority over the executive branch’s budget. And during the shutdown, Congress has shown little to no interest in reasserting its “power of the purse,” content instead to let the president decide which individuals and agencies receive funding, regardless of what Congress has prescribed.

Many causes, no easy solutions

There’s no one culprit but instead a collection of factors that have provided the ineffectual Congress of today.

One overriding factor is a process that has unfolded over the past 50 or more years called political nationalization. American politics have become increasingly centered on national issues, parties and figures rather than more local concerns or individuals.

This shift has elevated the importance of the president as the symbolic and practical leader of a national party agenda. Simultaneously, it weakens the role of individual members of Congress, who are now more likely to toe the party line than represent local interests.

As a result, voters focus more on presidential elections and less on congressional ones, granting the president greater influence and diminishing Congress’ independent authority.

The more Congress polarizes among its members on a party-line basis, the less the public is likely to trust the legitimacy of its opposition to a president. Instead, congressional pushback − sometimes as extreme as impeachment − can thus be written off not as principled or substantive but as partisan or politically motivated to a greater extent than ever before.

Congress has also been complicit in giving away its own power. Especially when dealing with a polarized Congress, presidents increasingly steer the ship in budget negotiations, which can lead to more local priorities – the ones Congress is supposed to represent – being ignored.

But rather than Congress staking out positions for itself, as it often did through the turn of the 21st century, political science research has shown that presidential positions on domestic policy increasingly dictate – and polarize – Congress’ own positions on policy that hasn’t traditionally been divisive, such as funding support for NASA. Congress’ positions on procedural issues, such as raising the debt ceiling or eliminating the filibuster, also increasingly depend not on bedrock principles but on who occupies the White House.

In the realm of foreign policy, Congress has all but abandoned its constitutional power to declare war, settling instead for “authorizations” of military force that the president wants to assert. These give the commander in chief wide latitude over war powers, and both Democratic and Republican presidents have been happy to retain that power. They have used these congressional approvals to engage in extended conflicts such as the Gulf War in the early 1990s and the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan a decade later.

What’s lost with a weak Congress

Americans lose a lot when Congress hands over such drastic power to the executive branch.

When individual members of Congress from across the country take a back seat, their districts’ distinctly local problems are less likely to be addressed with the power and resources that Congress can bring to an issue. Important local perspectives on national issues fail to be represented in Congress.

Even members of the same political party represent districts with vastly different economies, demographics and geography. Members are supposed to keep this in mind when legislating on these issues, but presidential control over the process makes that difficult or even impossible.

Maybe more importantly, a weak Congress paired with what historian Arthur Schlesinger called the “Imperial Presidency” is a recipe for an unaccountable president, running wild without the constitutionally provided oversight and checks on power that the founders provided to the people through their representation by the first branch of government.

This is an updated version of a story that first published on May 15, 2025.

Charlie Hunt 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. The shutdown – and the House’s inaction – helps pave Congress’ path to irrelevance – https://theconversation.com/the-shutdown-and-the-houses-inaction-helps-pave-congress-path-to-irrelevance-268536

Source: The Conversation – USA (3) – By Myriam Lamrani, Associate Researcher, Department of Anthropology, Harvard University

When a life-size skeleton dressed like the Grim Reaper first appeared on a street altar in Tepito, Mexico City, in 2001, many passersby instinctively crossed themselves. The figure was La Santa Muerte – or Holy Death – a female folk saint cloaked in mystery and controversy that had previously been known, if at all, as a figure of domestic devotion: someone they might address a prayer to, but in the privacy of their home.

She personifies death itself and is often depicted holding a scythe or globe. And since the early 2000s, her popularity has steadily spread across Mexico and the Americas, Europe and beyond.

The idea and image of death made into a saint is both unthinkable and magnetic. Her association with drug traffickers and criminal rituals makes many people wary of the skeletal figure. La Santa Muerte also faces significant opposition from the Catholic Church, which condemns her veneration as heretical and morally dangerous. High-ranking church figures such as Cardinal Norberto Rivera Carrera in Mexico have publicly denounced her devotion, warning that it promotes superstition and goes against Christian values.

This criticism highlights a profound tension between official religion and the grassroots devotion. Many Mexicans who feel abandoned by government and church institutions embrace her as a source of hope. Indeed, based on my research, La Santa Muerte represents strength, protection and comfort to her devotees, which include prisoners, police officers, sex workers, LGBTQ+ people, migrants, the working class and others among less vulnerable populations. Despite her fearsome appearance, she offers a form of care they are often denied elsewhere.

As an anthropologist who has studied La Santa Muerte in Mexico, I believe her power reflects a paradoxical Mexican understanding of death – not only as a symbol of fear but as an intimate part of everyday life that has become one of resilience and resistance amid the country’s chronic violence.

Death and the state

In my recent book, “The Intimacy of Images,” I examine how devotion to La Santa Muerte in Oaxaca – the state famed for its Day of the Dead tradition – draws on Mexico’s long-standing, often playful relationship with the image of death.

Based on over a decade of ethnographic fieldwork, I found how people’s prayers, offerings and promises to her are part of a desire for solutions to everyday problems such as illness, economic hardship and protection from harm. Her frequent representation in images such as altars, tattoos and artistic productions also reflects an evolving social understanding of death that has long been a pervasive symbol of Mexican culture, identity and the power of the state.

Following the Mexican Revolution in the early 20th century, death as a symbol of the new Mexican nation was popularized by artists such as José Guadalupe Posada, especially through La Catrina, the caricature of the dandy skeleton often associated with the Day of the Dead. Whereas death and its personification were once part of an ethos of celebration and fearlessness in the face of death, they have now become disturbing reminders of the mounting insecurity and violence in Mexico.

This transformation, and the role the skeletal saint plays in providing protection in this dangerous context, reflects Mexico’s broader descent into turmoil. In the 2000 national elections, the Institutional Revolutionary Party was unseated after 71 years of uninterrupted rule. The election of the conservative National Action Party, or PAN, in its place saw the fracturing of informal alliances between the state and criminal networks that had previously tamped down on crime through systems of patronage.

In 2006, newly elected PAN President Felipe Calderón launched a militarized war on crime after the yearslong evolution of these early criminal networks into ruthless organizations.

In the following decades, cartel violence has surged, civilian deaths and femicides have escalated, and state institutions have been accused of either direct complicity or a refusal to intervene. The 2014 disappearance of 43 students in Iguala – a case that revealed the degree of state and criminal organizations’ collusion and remains unresolved – only crystallized public outrage. Such rampant violence continues to this day.

Since the beginning of the Mexican drug war in 2006, an estimated 460,000 people have been murdered, and more than 115,000 people are officially listed as missing in the country – roughly one in every 1,140 residents. In heavily affected states such as Guerrero and Jalisco, that ratio is likely far higher, revealing the uneven geography of violence and disappearance across the country.

Claudia Sheinbaum, the country’s first female president – who took office in October 2024 – has promised to dismantle organized crime. Yet the violence and widespread public perceptions of insecurity persist.

A violent mirror

For most devotees, La Santa Muerte is not an ally of the criminals, despite its use by cartel-linked groups. Instead, she is one of the few remaining forms of help amid a terrifying social reality. She offers no illusion that the situation of political dysfunction or rampant violence will improve – only presence and protection. Her image reflects a brutal truth: Survival is no longer guaranteed by a state whose ties to the cartels run deep.

This political and spiritual vacuum is seen in the rise of other lay figures of devotion – folk saints such as Jesús Malverde, more official ones such as San Judas Tadeo, or even devotion to the devil.

La Santa Muerte is distinct, however. She is death personified, the end of life, the ultimate judge and a symbol of shared mortality, regardless of status, race or gender. As one devotee told me: “If you open us, you’ll find the same bones.” La Santa Muerte is also imbued with care and love by her followers. Some address her as kin, an aunt or a revered mother incarnating maternal protection and a kind of strength more commonly associated with the masculine. As many say: “She’s a badass.”

In a country where state protection is scarce and the boundaries between authorities and cartels blur, she represents the people and also shields her believers through miraculous protection. Her followers turn to her because, as they say, only death can protect them from death.

Given her devotees’ vulnerability and the wholehearted trust they place in their skeletal saint, La Santa Muerte is more than mere folklore. She is the patron saint of the many in a country where death walks close. She is a figure of personal solace and collective resilience. Above all, she is a mirror – reflecting a society in crisis and engulfed in violence, and a people reaching for meaning, dignity and protection in the face of it all.

Myriam Lamrani 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. ‘Only death can protect us’: How the folk saint La Santa Muerte reflects violence in Mexico – https://theconversation.com/only-death-can-protect-us-how-the-folk-saint-la-santa-muerte-reflects-violence-in-mexico-263885

Source: The Conversation – USA – By Justin St. P. Walsh, Professor of Art History, Archaeology and Space Studies, Chapman University

The International Space Station is one of the most remarkable achievements of the modern age. It is the largest, most complex, most expensive and most durable spacecraft ever built.

Its first modules were launched in 1998. The first crew to live on the International Space Station – an American and two Russians – entered it in 2000. Nov. 2, 2025, marks 25 years of continuous habitation by at least two people, and as many as 13 at one time. It is a singular example of international cooperation that has stood the test of time.

Two hundred and ninety people from 26 countries have now visited the space station, several of them staying for a year or more. More than 40% of all the humans who have ever been to space have been International Space Station visitors.

The station has been the locus of thousands of scientific and engineering studies using almost 200 distinct scientific facilities, investigating everything from astronomical phenomena and basic physics to crew health and plant growth. The phenomenon of space tourism was born on the space station. Altogether, astronauts have accumulated almost 127 person-years of experience on the station, and a deep understanding of what it takes to live in low Earth orbit.

If you’ve ever seen photos of the inside of the International Space Station, you’ve probably noticed the clutter. There are cables everywhere. Equipment sticks out into corridors. It doesn’t look like Star Trek’s Enterprise or other science fiction spacecraft. There’s no shower for the crew, or a kitchen for cooking a meal from scratch. It doesn’t have an area designed for the crew to gather in their downtime. But even without those niceties, it clearly represents a vision of the future from the past, one where humanity would live permanently in space for the first time.

Space archaeology

November 2025, by coincidence, also marks the 10th anniversary of my team’s research on the space station, the International Space Station Archaeological Project. The long history of habitation on the space station makes it perfect for the kind of studies that archaeologists like my colleagues and me carry out.

We recognized that there had been hardly any research on the social and cultural aspects of life in space. We wanted to show space agencies that were already planning three-year missions to Mars what they were overlooking.

We wanted to go beyond just talking to the crew about their experiences, though we have also done that. But as previous studies of contemporary societies have shown, people often don’t want to discuss all their lives with researchers, or they’re unable to articulate all their experiences.

Astronauts on Earth are usually trying to get their next ride back to space, and they understandably don’t want to rock the boat. Our research provides an additional window onto life on a space station by using archaeological evidence: the traces of human interactions with the objects and built spaces of the site.

The problem, of course, is that we can’t go to the station and observe it directly. So we had to come up with other ways to capture data. In November 2015, I realized that we could use the thousands of photos taken by the crew and published by NASA as a starting point. These would allow us to track the movement of people and things around the site over time, and to map the behaviors and associations between them.

In 2022, the International Space Station Archaeological Project also carried out the first archaeological fieldwork off the Earth, an experiment designed by my collaborator, Alice Gorman. We asked the crew to document six sample locations in different modules by taking photos of each one every day for two months.

Lessons from photos

We learned that the crew of the International Space Station is a lot like those of us on Earth – perhaps unsurprising, since they live 95% or more of their lives here with the rest of us. They decorate the walls of the station with pictures, memorabilia and, on the Russian side, religious items, the way you might put photos and souvenirs on your refrigerator door to say something about yourself and your family. They make birthday cakes for their colleagues. They love to snack on candy or other special foods that they selected to be sent.

Unlike the rest of us, however, they live without much freedom to make choices about their lives. Their days are governed by lengthy procedures overseen by Mission Control, and by lists of items and their locations.

Crew members do show some signs of autonomy, though. They sometimes create new uses for different areas. They used a maintenance work station for the storage of all kinds of unrelated things, just because it has a lot of Velcro for holding items in place. They have to come up with solutions for storing their toiletry kits because that kind of affordance wasn’t considered necessary by the station’s designers 30 or 40 years ago.

We discovered that despite the international nature of the station, most areas of it are highly nationalized, with each space agency controlling its own modules and, often, the activities going on in each one. This makes sense, since each agency is responsible to their own taxpayers and needs to show how their money is being spent. But it probably isn’t the most efficient way to run what is the most expensive building project in the history of humanity.

In our latest research, we tracked changes in scientific activity, which we found has become increasingly diverse, by documenting the use of specialized experimental equipment. This work was the result of questions from one of the companies competing to build a commercial successor to the International Space Station in low Earth orbit.

The company wanted to know if we could tell them what facilities their customers were likely going to need. Of course, understanding how people have used different parts of a site over time is a typical archaeological problem. They are using our results to improve the experiences of their crews.

The archaeology of the contemporary world

Similar archaeological studies of contemporary issues here on Earth can also make future lives better, whether by studying phenomena such as migration, ethnonationalism or ecological issues.

In this way, we and other contemporary archaeologists are charting a new future for studying the past, a path for our discipline that lies alongside our traditional work of investigating ancient societies and managing heritage resources. Our International Space Station work also demonstrates the relevance of social science research for solving all kinds of problems – even ones that seem to be purely technical, like living in space.

ISSAP received funding from the Australian Research Council. Justin Walsh’s co-PI on ISSAP is Dr. Alice Gorman (Flinders University). Walsh co-owns Brick Moon, a space habitat consultancy.

– ref. 25 Years of the International Space Station: What archaeology tells us about living and working in space – https://theconversation.com/25-years-of-the-international-space-station-what-archaeology-tells-us-about-living-and-working-in-space-268549

Source: The Conversation – USA – By Doug Jacobson, University Professor of Electrical and Computer Engineering, Iowa State University

When millions of people suddenly couldn’t load familiar websites and apps during the Amazon Web Services, or AWS, outage on Oct. 20, 2025, the affected servers weren’t actually down. The problem was more fundamental – their names couldn’t be found.

The culprit was DNS, the Domain Name System, which is the internet’s phone book. Every device on the internet has a numerical IP address, but people use names like amazon.com or maps.google.com. DNS acts as the translator, turning those names into the correct IP addresses so your device knows where to send the request. It works every time you click on a link, open an app or tap “log in.” Even when you don’t type a name yourself, such as in a mobile app, one is still being used in the background.

To understand why DNS failures can be so disruptive, it’s helpful to know how the Domain Name System is constructed. The internet contains over 378 million registered domain names, far too many for a single global phone book. Imagine a single book containing every American’s name and phone number. So DNS was intentionally designed to be decentralized.

Each organization that owns a domain, such as google.com, is responsible for maintaining its own DNS entries in its own DNS server. When your device needs to find an IP address, it asks a DNS server, which may ask others, until it finds the server that knows the answer. No single system has to hold everything. That’s what makes DNS resilient.

Centralization equals vulnerability

So why did AWS, the largest cloud provider in the world, still manage to break the internet for so many, from Zoom to Venmo and smart beds?

Cloud providers host web servers but also critical infrastructure services, including DNS. When a company rents cloud servers, it often allows the cloud provider to manage its DNS as well. That’s efficient – until the cloud provider’s DNS itself has a problem.

Amazon disclosed that the specific cause of the recent disruption was a timing bug in the software that manages the AWS DNS management system. Whatever the cause, the effect was clear: Any website or service relying on AWS-managed DNS could not be reached, even if its server was perfectly healthy. In this way, the cloud concentrates risk.

This wasn’t the first time DNS became a point of failure. In 2002, attackers attempted to disable the entire DNS system by launching a denial-of-service attack against the root DNS servers, the systems that store the locations of all other DNS servers. In a denial-of-service attack, an attacker sends a flood of traffic to overwhelm a server. Five of the 13 root servers were knocked offline, but the system survived.

In 2016, a major DNS provider called Dyn, which companies paid to run DNS on their behalf, was hit with a massive distributed-denial-of-service attack. In a distributed-denial-of-service attack, the attacker hijacks many computers and uses them to send the flood of traffic to the target. In the Dyn attack, tens of thousands of compromised devices flooded its servers, overwhelming them. For hours, major sites like Twitter, PayPal, Netflix and Reddit were functionally offline even though their servers were fully operational. Yet again, the issue wasn’t the websites; it was the inability to find them.

The lesson is not that DNS is weak, but that reliance on a small number of providers creates invisible single points of failure. DNS was initially designed for decentralization. Yet, economic convenience, cloud services and DNS as a service are quietly steering the internet toward centralization.

Convenience over resilience

These failures matter far beyond shopping or streaming. DNS is also how people reach banks, election reporting systems, emergency alert platforms and the artificial intelligence tools now powering critical decision-making. It doesn’t even need to fully go down to be dangerous. Simply delaying or misdirecting DNS can break authentication between users and services, block transactions or erode public trust at sensitive moments.

The uncomfortable reality is that convenience is quietly winning over resilience. As organizations increasingly outsource DNS and hosting to the same handful of cloud providers, they accumulate what could be called resilience debt – invisible until the moment it comes due. The internet was engineered to survive partial failure, but modern economics is concentrating risk in ways its original designers explicitly tried to avoid.

The lesson from the AWS outage isn’t just about fixing one software bug. It’s a reminder that DNS is critical infrastructure. That means technology companies can’t afford to treat DNS as background plumbing, and resilience needs to be designed intentionally.

Individual DNS failures inconvenience people, but the reliability of DNS on the whole defines whether the internet still works at all.

Doug Jacobson 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 is DNS? A computer engineer explains this foundational piece of the web – and why it’s the internet’s Achilles’ heel – https://theconversation.com/what-is-dns-a-computer-engineer-explains-this-foundational-piece-of-the-web-and-why-its-the-internets-achilles-heel-268336