Category: The Conversation – USA

Source: The Conversation – USA (3) – By Jenna Vinson, Associate Professor of English, UMass Lowell

Bracket-busting upsets, Cinderella stories, OT buzzer beaters – March Madness is here! Or, as some urologists think of it, vasectomy promotion season.

Since 2004, urologists have been promoting vasectomies every March, promising patients who elect the procedure an excellent excuse to relax on the couch and watch college basketball.

There’s evidence that these “Vas Madness” promotional tactics – sometimes paired with food giveaways and cheeky swag – may be effective. At least one study has noted an increase in vasectomy rates in the U.S. during the month of March.

This spike in vasectomies illustrates how communication about this procedure – and its perceived relation to manhood – can make a substantive shift in public acceptance of contraceptive sterilization for men.

I am a scholar of rhetoric and gender studies, and I have been studying the language around vasectomies for years. In my forthcoming book, “Stop Saying Snip! The Rhetoric of Vasectomy,” which will be published in April 2026, I show that communication plays a significant role in prompting people to welcome, seek or avoid vasectomies. In fact, I’ve found that language about fertility and communication about contraception greatly influence all decision-making around preventing pregnancy, particularly who should bear the burden of it.

Gendered communication about contraception

For my book, I interviewed 17 people who rely on vasectomies to prevent pregnancies, and I asked them how they learned what a vasectomy was. Few knew for certain, and most did not remember at all.

This makes sense when you consider that information about this procedure is not routinely delivered to anyone. I have found that knowledge about vasectomies is not guaranteed to be covered through sex education in school, during annual doctor visits, through insurance coverage that encourages preventive health practices, or even in discussions with family and friends.

Rather, the rhetoric around preventing pregnancy places the onus of contraception on women. Throughout their lives, women receive messages from partners, parents, friends and medical providers that prompt them to think about their fertility and to take on the responsibility to manage that fertility. These messages subtly communicate that this is the most natural  or  normal way to prevent pregnancies.

In contrast, men do not often get this message that they should think about their fertility and take on the responsibility to manage that fertility. For example, men are rarely prompted to explain what they are doing to prevent pregnancies. One military father of two whom I interviewed for my book said that his primary care physician never discussed birth control with him at checkups. Yet each time his wife had a baby, her doctors would inquire whether she wanted to undergo tubal ligation, the sterilization procedure in which the fallopian tubes are cut.

Rhetoric, including questions providers do or don’t ask, plays a role in the unbalanced sterilization rates among men and women. According to a 2024 Kaiser Family Foundation survey, 25% of the women surveyed were sterilized, in contrast to just 11% of the men. And according to data from the National Survey of Family Growth, in 2022-2023, 6.8% of men age 18 to 49 had vasectomies, whereas during the same time period, 11.5% of women age 15 to 49 using contraception underwent sterilization.

In fact, female sterilization is the leading method of contraception used in the U.S., even though it is riskier and less cost-efficient than vasectomy.

Manhood in the English language of fertility

The very language that English speakers use to refer to men’s fertility can conflate reproductive capacity with a positive vision of being a man. This makes acceptance of vasectomy quite tricky.

In medical articles, men’s reproductive capacity is discussed as “fertility.” But more colloquially, English speakers often use very different terms, such as “potency” and “virility.”

Potency comes from the Latin word potentia, meaning “power.” In English, potency refers to “power,” the “ability to affect something,” “authority” and “influence.” It also refers to the “ability to achieve erection or ejaculation in sexual intercourse,” to which the Oxford English Dictionary adds, “Also: fertility (of a male or female).” I have yet to encounter literature or messaging involving a potent woman — other than, perhaps, to refer to her scent.

Men who can reproduce may also be referred to as “virile,” from the Latin vir, meaning “man”. This inscribes a sense of “manhood” into language about men’s fertility: The Oxford English Dictionary defines virility as “mature or fully developed manhood or masculine force,” and “the power of procreation; capacity for sexual intercourse.”

The multiple meanings of these words help to explain the misconception that vasectomy, in curtailing fertility, threatens a man’s ability to influence others, access power and perform sexually. In this way, rhetoric around men’s fertility can interfere with broad acceptance of vasectomy.

After all, undergoing a vasectomy does require a willingness to be vulnerable. It involves talking to a medical expert about your sexual and reproductive desires, allowing medical staff to see and touch your otherwise private parts, and following another’s orders for what to do. This includes returning to the doctor’s office with semen to be analyzed in order to determine if the procedure was a success – a step many men skip.

And vasectomy is a surgical procedure, so it also means facing some risk of harm, albeit small.

Taken altogether, undergoing a vasectomy means behaving in a way that may feel in direct opposition to dominant cultural understandings of being “a man” – someone potent, virile and always in control.

Broadening communication about vasectomies

“Vas Madness” promotional tactics are one of the few public campaigns about the procedure. Yet even after the “madness” is all said and done, women still tend to do the brunt of pregnancy prevention work, consuming pills, implanting intrauterine devices, receiving injections and undergoing tubal ligation surgery, while managing all the doctor’s appointments and side effects those methods entail.

In conducting my research, I found that women’s efforts to give their partners information about vasectomies and to share the burdens they bear in managing fertility are an important driving force in many men’s decisions to have the procedure.

One 35-year-old man I spoke with had been relying on his partner to use birth control methods to prevent pregnancy, including an IUD placement that went wrong and then a contraceptive implant. After research and discussion, they decided on a vasectomy to prevent pregnancies moving forward. The man told me that his partner is “very informed about medical things.” He continued: “Any sort of trepidation I had about it, it was very easy to talk to her about it and be like, ‘OK, this really isn’t that big of a deal at all.’”

But communication from more sources, beyond seasonal urologist campaigns and the individual efforts of romantic partners, could help inspire more people to see vasectomies as a normal, needed and helpful procedure to prevent pregnancy.

In the meantime, reproductive labor continues to be, overwhelmingly, women’s work.

Jenna Vinson 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. ‘Vas Madness’ shows the power of messaging on men’s contraceptive decisions – https://theconversation.com/vas-madness-shows-the-power-of-messaging-on-mens-contraceptive-decisions-278296

Source: The Conversation – USA (3) – By Jessica Vantine Birkenholtz, Associate Professor of Women’s, Gender, and Sexuality Studies and Asian Studies, Penn State

I first heard the popular “Swasthani Vrata Katha” – a devotional text – recited in Sankhu, a village on the outskirts of Nepal’s Kathmandu Valley, some 25 years ago.

The text tells the story, or “katha,” of the ritual vow, or “vrata,” that women devotees perform to earn the favor of Swasthani, a local Nepali Hindu goddess.

Every day during the cold lunar month of January-February, 100 to 200 Hindu women, dressed all in red, carry out a ritual that requires them to bathe in the local river, eat only one meal per day, remain singularly focused and worship the Hindu god Shiva at midday. In the evening, they recite the devotional text or listen to it being recited.

This practice dates to the 16th century and continues today. Nepali families gather daily at their home or at a relative’s home to recite one of the 31 chapters of the text. The recitation is done even if no one in the family is participating in the ritual vow. Most devotees observe only a two-day ritual vow at the end of the month’s recitation, but some women perform the ritual vow for the whole month.

At the end of the month, devotees prepare a series of offerings to Swasthani for the concluding ritual. These include ritually specific cooked foods, fruit and flowers. After the ritual offerings are blessed by Swasthani, devotees give a portion to their husband. If there is no husband, then to their son. If there is no son, then to the son of a friend.

I have joined many families in their homes during my archival and ethnographic work over the past two decades. Like many Nepalis, I listened patiently to the Swasthani’s stories while waiting eagerly for the sweet treats that were given at the end of the nightly recitation.

As a scholar of gender and Hinduism in Nepal, I am aware of two readings of the text in Nepal: Some see it reinforcing patriarchal expectations, while many women find strength through the enduring hardships and perseverance of its female characters.

Stories in the text

The Swasthani text has a prominent place in Nepali culture. It is the only locally written work of Hindu literature that is actively read by lay Nepali Hindus. It is their primary source for key Hindu myths.

The first two-thirds of the text explain the creation of the universe and recount the most widely known myths associated with the supreme god Shiva. These are stories familiar to most Hindus.

For Nepalis, it is the last third of the text that is especially meaningful. Here, the focus shifts to the local and relatable stories of three mortals – Goma, Navaraj and Chandravati – and their devotion to the local Nepali Hindu goddess Swasthani.

Goma is married as a 7-year-old to a decrepit 70-year-old man. She dutifully endures marriage, motherhood and, too soon thereafter, widowhood. Her son, Navaraj, is obedient and dutiful. In contrast, his wife, Chandravati, is selfish as a daughter-in-law and disrespects Swasthani, leading to enormous misery for her.

Ultimately, all three experience social and economic transformation through devotion to Swasthani, which culminates in the crowning of Navaraj as a king and Chandravati and Goma becoming queen and queen mother, respectively.

Faithful wives – human and divine

Through its female characters, mortal and divine alike, the text highlights a woman’s principal role and identity as a faithful wife.

In addition to the pious, persevering Goma and flawed Chandravati in the mortal realm, in the divine realm there are the goddesses Sati and her reincarnation as Parvati. Both are known mainly for being devoted wives of Shiva. There are also wives of other lesser gods, semidivine beings and demons. They share in common unwavering devotion to their husbands but also regular subjection to the whims of their husbands or the gods.

Most notable of these other wives is Vrinda, the chaste wife of the demon Jalandhar. It is Vrinda’s chastity that protects her husband and prevents him from being killed by the gods for his brazen effort to seduce Shiva’s wife, Parvati.

To make Jalandhar vulnerable, the god Vishnu assumes Jalandhar’s form and debauches Vrinda. Her husband is immediately killed, and Vrinda is widowed through no fault of her own. She consequently commits sati, or self-immolation, on her husband’s funeral pyre – but curses Vishnu before doing so.

Patriarchy in Nepal

I have observed that in Nepal’s patriarchal culture, many women find strength in Goma’s plight and endurance. But that many Nepali feminists and youths question the treatment of women throughout the text.

Most Nepali women cannot inherit property and do not have equal citizenship rights. Child marriage remains a pervasive practice across Nepal and often results in girls dropping out of school to take on household responsibilities. According to the United Nations, one in three girls are married off before turning 18. Despite updates in Nepal’s 2015 constitution designed to remove gender discrimination, there remains a significant gap between the law and everyday lived experiences.

Marriage in Nepal is widely seen as “a woman’s destiny” and often gives the husband and his family “full authority to rule over a woman,” explains Luna KC, a scholar of global and international studies and gender studies. It is customary practice in Nepal and across South Asia for married couples to reside with the husband’s parents. As anthropologist Lynn Bennett and other researchers have demonstrated, this can be traumatic for the bride, who must leave her family and support system.

These dynamics play out in the Swasthani text and in current debates about its role in contemporary Nepali society.

Critics argue that the stories instill and normalize antiquated ideas and practices that reinforce gender inequality and impede women’s full participation in society and access to equal rights. “Our child marriage is based on this type of story,” according to a gender and human rights advocate I interviewed.

Rameshwori Pant, an independent researcher and journalist, echoes this when she describes how Goma’s story “haunted” her as a child because Pant’s own mother had also been married at age 7.

Finding hope in the text

Families often have centuries-old handwritten Swasthani manuscripts that are now family heirlooms. Increasingly, many also have a newly store-bought version. With their distinctive red wraparound cover, stacks of the printed Swasthani text stand out at local bookshops leading up to the annual recitation.

For many Nepali women, the Swasthani stories they learned as young girls linger and endure into their adulthood in complicated ways. As an adult, Pant was moved to write about the sociological, economic and gender aspects of the Swasthani practice. She asks, “Why is there violence against women and gender discrimination in a story written to celebrate women?”

Through my formal interviews and informal conversations over the years with Nepali women and devotees, it is also clear that many women find fortitude in the text’s description of familiar trials the women and goddesses face.

From this perspective, the Swasthani stories teach women that through perseverance, their hardships turn into triumphs and women’s suffering turns into strength. Goma is regularly invoked in popular discourse for her determination as a dutiful child bride, wife and mother who persists in the face of repeated adversity and ongoing lack of resources. These are the daily realities for many Nepali women living in a patriarchal society.

So while the text may not advocate for women’s social, economic or legal autonomy, it still offers encouragement: For some women, it provides a road map for working through life’s difficulties. This, too, can be empowering.

As a Nepali female lawyer explained to me: “The stories of the Swasthani have different life lessons to follow and apply. Just as the Buddha suffered and in the end found enlightenment, so, too, the Swasthani characters suffered but in the end found happiness.”

Staying power in modern times

I see and value both sides of the debates. They reflect the varied experiences, perspectives and concerns among Nepal’s diverse population. They also reflect the challenges of translating ancient and medieval beliefs and practices in the modern period.

What is striking is the text’s staying power. Its stories are centuries old – yet they are recited by many Nepalis every winter, even as the daily recitation now competes with many modern distractions, such as smartphones and social media.

The text remains an important piece of local Nepali heritage and culture. It offers a window into Nepal’s past, while also prompting reflections on Nepali values for the future.

Jessica Vantine Birkenholtz 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 an ancient devotional text means for the women of Nepal – https://theconversation.com/what-an-ancient-devotional-text-means-for-the-women-of-nepal-273901

Source: The Conversation – USA – By Anne P. DePrince, Professor of Psychology, University of Denver

Multiple women told The New York Times that Mexican American civil rights hero Cesar Chavez assaulted them decades ago, including when some were just girls, one as young as 13. Over their multiyear investigation, published on March 18, 2026, journalists at the paper found “extensive evidence” of that abuse by poring over historical records and conducting interviews with more than 60 people.

While yearslong investigations into abuse allegations are rare, silence about abuse is common.

As a clinical psychologist who studies interpersonal trauma, I’ve seen how the dynamics of abuse can lead to silence, even over decades.

This research can help answer the question many asked when they heard about the charges against Chavez: Why didn’t the women speak earlier?

Power and trust betrayed

Among the women who disclosed abuse by Chavez, Dolores Huerta described seeing him “as my boss, as my hero, as, you know, somebody that would do the impossible.” Debra Rojas said, “I had love for him … He did his grooming very well.”

When perpetrators abuse those who trust and depend on them, the betrayal adds to the harm of trauma. Betrayal trauma theory helps explain why.

Victims who depend on the people abusing them face extraordinary pressure to minimize what is happening. Disclosure can mean losing relationships or resources that are necessary for survival. Children abused by caregivers or community leaders risk relationships that they need to get their basic needs met. Adults who disclose abuse or harassment by employers risk losing their jobs and economic security.

Adding to the harm of abuse, perpetrators commonly twist reality to keep victims silent. They might directly instruct victims not to tell others what happened. They might also tell victims that they are actually the ones to blame for causing the abuse or that no one will believe them.

Victims must adapt to this untenable situation in which they depend on the very people causing harm.

For some people, betrayal results in dissociation symptoms and memory impairment for what happened. Dissociation is a common response to traumatic stress that can include amnesia, feelings that things are unreal or feeling disconnected from what is happening. Dissociation and memory impairment can help victims maintain necessary attachments in the short run.

Betrayal also contributes to more shame and self-blame, as well as more severe psychological and physical health problems.

Shame and self-blame can make it harder to disclose what happened. Not surprising, then, victims of high-betrayal traumas are less likely to disclose what happened relative to other kinds of traumas.

When betrayal-trauma survivors do speak up, delayed disclosures can be met with blame or disbelief, even from health providers. Survivors with more severe psychological symptoms are also met with more negative reactions to their disclosures.

Betrayal also makes escaping abusive relationships, including physically violent ones, difficult. Greater dependence on the perpetrator has been linked with a greater likelihood of staying with an abusive partner a year after a police report of domestic violence.

Cultural and institutional betrayal add to harm

Women told The New York Times that they stayed silent about their abuse, which for some began when they were girls, in part “for fear of tarnishing the image of a man who has become the face of the Latino civil rights movement.”

When people in marginalized groups are abused by someone from the same group, that constitutes an additional wound. Dr. Jennifer Gómez described this as “cultural betrayal trauma.”

With cultural betrayal trauma comes even greater pressure to stay silent as well as greater harm from the abuse.

When institutions such as churches, schools or unions fail to stop abuse or respond appropriately, that institutional betrayal can also add to the harm caused by the original abuse. In turn, institutional betrayal predicts greater dissociation and health problems, adding to the burden of abuse.

Anticipating disbelief and blame

Ana Murguia told The New York Times that she believed she would be blamed for the abuse.

Huerta, who was one of three co-founders, along with Chavez, of what ultimately became the United Farm Workers union, told the newspaper that she “feared that no one within the union would believe her.”

Anticipating disbelief and blame affects decisions to disclose. When researchers asked college women who were sexually victimized at some point in their lives why they kept what happened to themselves, they heard four common reasons. Women kept assaults private because they felt shame, guilt or embarrassment, minimized what happened, feared consequences of disclosing or wanted privacy.

Fears about negative reactions are unfortunately well founded. Research shows that when victims do disclose, victim blaming and other negative reactions are common. In turn, those negative social reactions add to psychological distress and the harm of abuse.

Connection and courage: Antidotes to betrayal

In the wake of the harm that betrayal trauma causes, healing is possible through connection and care.

Research shows that people can learn to respond in better ways to disclosures of abuse, such as connecting people to resources and expressing empathy. In addition, institutions that act with courage in the wake of abuse, such as by making it easy to report or taking actions to prevent future abuse, can help reduce harm to survivors.

When survivors disclose, avoiding blame, disbelief and other negative reactions can minimize additional harm. Taking steps to offer emotional support and resources can even help open doors.

That’s what my research team found when we asked sexual assault survivors about the reactions they received from service providers, such as counselors or victim advocates. When survivors received more tangible support, they were more likely to later disclose what happened in a formal report to the police.

Anne P. DePrince has received funding from the Department of Justice, National Institutes of Health, State of Colorado, and University of Denver. She has received honoraria for giving presentations and has been paid as a consultant. She has a book with Oxford University Press. She is an Advisory Group Member of the National Crime Victim Law Institute and a Senior Advisor to the Center for Institutional Courage.

– ref. Psychological toll of betrayal trauma may help explain why women kept silent for decades after alleged abuse by civil rights icon Cesar Chavez – https://theconversation.com/psychological-toll-of-betrayal-trauma-may-help-explain-why-women-kept-silent-for-decades-after-alleged-abuse-by-civil-rights-icon-cesar-chavez-278950

Source: The Conversation – USA – By Anne P. DePrince, Professor of Psychology, University of Denver

Multiple women told The New York Times that Mexican American civil rights hero Cesar Chavez assaulted them decades ago, including when some were just girls, one as young as 13. Over their multiyear investigation, published on March 18, 2026, journalists at the paper found “extensive evidence” of that abuse by poring over historical records and conducting interviews with more than 60 people.

While yearslong investigations into abuse allegations are rare, silence about abuse is common.

As a clinical psychologist who studies interpersonal trauma, I’ve seen how the dynamics of abuse can lead to silence, even over decades.

This research can help answer the question many asked when they heard about the charges against Chavez: Why didn’t the women speak earlier?

Power and trust betrayed

Among the women who disclosed abuse by Chavez, Dolores Huerta described seeing him “as my boss, as my hero, as, you know, somebody that would do the impossible.” Debra Rojas said, “I had love for him … He did his grooming very well.”

When perpetrators abuse those who trust and depend on them, the betrayal adds to the harm of trauma. Betrayal trauma theory helps explain why.

Victims who depend on the people abusing them face extraordinary pressure to minimize what is happening. Disclosure can mean losing relationships or resources that are necessary for survival. Children abused by caregivers or community leaders risk relationships that they need to get their basic needs met. Adults who disclose abuse or harassment by employers risk losing their jobs and economic security.

Adding to the harm of abuse, perpetrators commonly twist reality to keep victims silent. They might directly instruct victims not to tell others what happened. They might also tell victims that they are actually the ones to blame for causing the abuse or that no one will believe them.

Victims must adapt to this untenable situation in which they depend on the very people causing harm.

For some people, betrayal results in dissociation symptoms and memory impairment for what happened. Dissociation is a common response to traumatic stress that can include amnesia, feelings that things are unreal or feeling disconnected from what is happening. Dissociation and memory impairment can help victims maintain necessary attachments in the short run.

Betrayal also contributes to more shame and self-blame, as well as more severe psychological and physical health problems.

Shame and self-blame can make it harder to disclose what happened. Not surprising, then, victims of high-betrayal traumas are less likely to disclose what happened relative to other kinds of traumas.

When betrayal-trauma survivors do speak up, delayed disclosures can be met with blame or disbelief, even from health providers. Survivors with more severe psychological symptoms are also met with more negative reactions to their disclosures.

Betrayal also makes escaping abusive relationships, including physically violent ones, difficult. Greater dependence on the perpetrator has been linked with a greater likelihood of staying with an abusive partner a year after a police report of domestic violence.

Cultural and institutional betrayal add to harm

Women told The New York Times that they stayed silent about their abuse, which for some began when they were girls, in part “for fear of tarnishing the image of a man who has become the face of the Latino civil rights movement.”

When people in marginalized groups are abused by someone from the same group, that constitutes an additional wound. Dr. Jennifer Gómez described this as “cultural betrayal trauma.”

With cultural betrayal trauma comes even greater pressure to stay silent as well as greater harm from the abuse.

When institutions such as churches, schools or unions fail to stop abuse or respond appropriately, that institutional betrayal can also add to the harm caused by the original abuse. In turn, institutional betrayal predicts greater dissociation and health problems, adding to the burden of abuse.

Anticipating disbelief and blame

Ana Murguia told The New York Times that she believed she would be blamed for the abuse.

Huerta, who was one of three co-founders, along with Chavez, of what ultimately became the United Farm Workers union, told the newspaper that she “feared that no one within the union would believe her.”

Anticipating disbelief and blame affects decisions to disclose. When researchers asked college women who were sexually victimized at some point in their lives why they kept what happened to themselves, they heard four common reasons. Women kept assaults private because they felt shame, guilt or embarrassment, minimized what happened, feared consequences of disclosing or wanted privacy.

Fears about negative reactions are unfortunately well founded. Research shows that when victims do disclose, victim blaming and other negative reactions are common. In turn, those negative social reactions add to psychological distress and the harm of abuse.

Connection and courage: Antidotes to betrayal

In the wake of the harm that betrayal trauma causes, healing is possible through connection and care.

Research shows that people can learn to respond in better ways to disclosures of abuse, such as connecting people to resources and expressing empathy. In addition, institutions that act with courage in the wake of abuse, such as by making it easy to report or taking actions to prevent future abuse, can help reduce harm to survivors.

When survivors disclose, avoiding blame, disbelief and other negative reactions can minimize additional harm. Taking steps to offer emotional support and resources can even help open doors.

That’s what my research team found when we asked sexual assault survivors about the reactions they received from service providers, such as counselors or victim advocates. When survivors received more tangible support, they were more likely to later disclose what happened in a formal report to the police.

Anne P. DePrince has received funding from the Department of Justice, National Institutes of Health, State of Colorado, and University of Denver. She has received honoraria for giving presentations and has been paid as a consultant. She has a book with Oxford University Press. She is an Advisory Group Member of the National Crime Victim Law Institute and a Senior Advisor to the Center for Institutional Courage.

– ref. Psychological toll of betrayal trauma may help explain why women kept silent for decades after their allegations of abuse against civil rights icon Cesar Chavez – https://theconversation.com/psychological-toll-of-betrayal-trauma-may-help-explain-why-women-kept-silent-for-decades-after-their-allegations-of-abuse-against-civil-rights-icon-cesar-chavez-278950

Source: The Conversation – USA (2) – By Scott L. Montgomery, Lecturer in International Studies, University of Washington

In the second week of the Iran war – with the Strait of Hormuz effectively closed, cutting off shipping of 20% of the world’s oil supply – the International Energy Agency announced the largest release of strategic oil reserves in history. Thirty-two countries will sell a combined 412 million barrels from their reserves into the global market over four months, beginning in late March 2026.

Energy researchers like me know that the concept of a strategic oil stock goes back to the early 20th century, when the U.S. Navy first substituted oil for coal as a fuel for ships. Starting in 1912, Congress set aside several petroleum-rich areas in the U.S., including Elk Hills in California and Teapot Dome in Wyoming. In times of need, oil wells could be drilled in those regions to produce fuel for the Navy.

The current system involves oil that has already been produced and is stored so it can enter the market quickly. That approach was created by the International Energy Agency soon after its founding in the wake of the 1973-74 oil crisis. At that time, Arab nations in the Organization of the Petroleum Exporting Countries cut exports by as much as 25% to protest U.S. and other countries’ support for Israel in the Yom Kippur War. Global oil prices soared by over 350%, the equivalent today of US$70 – the price before Israel and the U.S. attacked Iran on Feb. 28, 2026 – jumping to $245.

Now, strategic reserves are a system of national oil stocks intended to replace at least 90 days of each country’s imports. In some cases, such as Japan, the reserve covers over 200 days. The 415 million barrels in the U.S. reserve as of March 13, 2026, covers only about 64 days.

What is the purpose of strategic oil reserves?

These reserves have a twofold purpose: to replace a portion of the disrupted supply and to moderate the resulting increase in prices.

In cases of a major loss to world supply, the International Energy Agency will propose a coordinated release from member countries. There have been five such releases, most recently in 2022, when Russia’s invasion of Ukraine caused oil prices to go above $120.

Together, members hold government stockpiles of about 1.2 billion barrels, with another 600 million barrels stored by private industry. The United States’ expected contribution of 172 million barrels is nearly half of the upcoming release.

To fill the U.S. reserve, the U.S. Department of Energy buys oil on the open market, using money funded by past sales and congressional appropriations. When releasing oil from the reserve, it sells to the highest bidder on the regular oil market, just like any other oil producer. Ideally, the reserve buys oil when the price is low and sells it at times of emergency when prices are high – though presidents of both parties have been accused of ordering oil releases for political gains rather than strictly economic reasons.

What can a major release from these reserves achieve?

Strategic releases are a short-term way to lessen the shock of an immediate supply loss.

A release provides a certain number of barrels – in the current case, perhaps 3 million to 4 million barrels per day – for a period of a few months.

But that amount is not enough to replace the roughly 10 million barrels per day or more now held back by the closed Strait of Hormuz.

My own study of the history of U.S. releases suggests, however, that a release can prevent prices from climbing to extreme levels at an early stage and staying there. That is because oil prices are mainly determined by futures contracts – legally binding agreements to buy or sell a quantity of oil at an agreed price for delivery one to three months in the future.

If oil buyers and sellers know additional oil will be released to the market in that period, they will likely agree to a lower price. So the strategic release temporarily moderates price increases.

What about the US reserve?

Congress created the Strategic Petroleum Reserve as part of the Energy Policy and Conservation Act of 1975. Its oil is stored underground in a series of large salt domes in four locations across the Gulf Coast, in Texas and Louisiana.

Congress originally said the reserve should hold up to 1 billion barrels of crude and refined petroleum products. Though it has never reached that size, the U.S. reserve was until 2025 the largest in the world, with a maximum volume of 713.5 million barrels.

Over the past decade, however, China has aggressively expanded its own stocks to an estimated 1.4 billion barrels. Such an enormous volume can be viewed as a sign of Beijing’s deep concern about oil security, as China relies on imports to supply more than 70% of its consumption.

In mid-March 2026, meanwhile, the U.S. reserve was only 60% full at 415 million barrels. In 2022, the Biden administration released 180 million barrels in response to the price jump caused by Russia’s invasion of Ukraine. An analysis by the U.S. Treasury Department concluded the release did reduce market volatility and lower prices at the pump by up to 30 to 40 cents per gallon. Nonetheless, it has not been a priority under the Biden or Trump administrations to refill the reserve.

As a result, the release of 172 million barrels recently ordered by the White House will temporarily shrink the U.S. reserve to 243 million barrels – only 34% of its capacity. That level is its lowest since the early 1980s.

U.S. Secretary of Energy Chris Wright has said plans are in place to add 200 million barrels back later in 2026. But doing so would return the reserve only to the pre-war stock level.

Risk or reward?

Nonetheless, the oil shock that has happened as a result of the Iran war has proven that the idea of strategic reserves is still relevant. Though the process of how it is utilized can be debated, having emergency stocks of a vital resource subject to supply crises can hardly be called irrational.

In the early days of the war, the White House said there was no reason for a release from the U.S. Strategic Petroleum Reserve.

But only days later, the administration changed its mind, reportedly because President Donald Trump saw oil prices soaring and remaining elevated.

But, as noted, this withdrawal will leave the U.S. and other nations in a highly vulnerable position. Additional price increases – like those that have occurred because of attacks on Gulf oil and gas facilities, production, and shipment locations – could well lead to a second call from the International Energy Agency to release oil from the world’s remaining reserves.

Scott L. Montgomery 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. Over 400 million barrels will be added to the oil market soon – what are strategic reserves and what can they do? – https://theconversation.com/over-400-million-barrels-will-be-added-to-the-oil-market-soon-what-are-strategic-reserves-and-what-can-they-do-278370

Source: The Conversation – USA – By Laela Sayigh, Senior Research Specialist, Cetacean Communication, Woods Hole Oceanographic Institution

Human fascination with bottlenose dolphins goes back thousands of years, at least as early as Greek mythology.

But it wasn’t until the 1960s that methodical research into dolphin communication began. Scientists like John Lilly and the husband-and-wife team of Melba and David Caldwell tried various experiments to decipher the sounds dolphins can make.

The Caldwells figured out a way to record isolated animals in human care. They discovered that each individual dolphin communicated mostly with one unique whistle, which they called the “signature whistle.” Researchers now know that these whistles convey identities much like human names do. Dolphins use them to stay in touch with each other in their murky habitat, where vision is limited. It’s like announcing “I’m over here!” when someone can’t see you.

This discovery is foundational to my own research. I’ve been studying communication in wild dolphins since the mid-1980s, when I joined my mentor Peter Tyack in documenting signature whistles in wild dolphins for the first time. Our team’s research focused on a resident community of free-ranging bottlenose dolphins in waters near Sarasota, Florida, where I continue to work today.

This collaborative study, led by Randall Wells of Brookfield Zoo Chicago’s Sarasota Dolphin Research Program, involves numerous researchers from a variety of institutions, who study different aspects of dolphin biology, health, ecology and behavior. Begun in 1970, this is the longest-running research project on a population of wild cetaceans – whales, dolphins and porpoises – in the world.

Recording and observing

Researchers know the age, sex and maternal relatedness of almost all of the approximately 170 dolphins in the Sarasota community. This depth of knowledge provides an unprecedented opportunity to study communication in a wild cetacean species.

The dolphins in the Sarasota project are periodically subject to brief catch-and-release health assessments, during which researchers, including me, briefly handle individual dolphins.

Our team attaches suction-cup hydrophones directly onto each dolphin’s melon – that is, its forehead. We then record the dolphins continuously throughout the health assessments, taking notes on who is being recorded when, and what is happening at the time.

This is how my colleagues and I were able to confirm that wild dolphins, like captive animals, produced large numbers of individually distinctive signature whistles when briefly isolated from other dolphins. Through observations and recordings of known free-swimming dolphins, we were further able to confirm that they produced these same signature whistles in undisturbed contexts.

We have organized these recordings into the Sarasota Dolphin Whistle Database, which now contains nearly 1,000 recording sessions of 324 individual dolphins. More than half of the dolphins in the database have been recorded more than once.

We identify each dolphin’s signature whistle based on its prevalence: In the catch-and-release context, about 85% of the whistles that dolphins produced are signature whistles. We can identify these visually, by viewing plots of frequency vs. time called spectrograms.

Signature whistles and ‘motherese’

The Sarasota Dolphin Whistle Database has proved to be a rich resource for understanding dolphin communication. For instance, we have discovered that some calves develop signature whistles similar to those of their mothers, but many do not, raising questions about what factors influence signature whistle development.

We have also found that once developed, signature whistles are highly stable over an animal’s lifetime, especially for females. Males often form strong pair bonds with another adult male, and in some instances, their whistles become more similar to one another over time. We are still trying to understand when and why this occurs.

Dolphin mothers modify their signature whistles when communicating with their calves by increasing the maximum frequency, or pitch. This is similar to human caregivers using a higher-pitched voice when communicating with young children – a phenomenon known as “motherese.”

Also similar to humans is how dolphins will initiate contact with another dolphin by imitating their signature whistle – what we call a signature whistle copy. This is similar to how you would use someone’s name to call out to them.

Our team is interested in finding out if dolphins also copy whistles of others who aren’t present, potentially talking about them. We have seen evidence of this in our recordings of dolphins during health assessments, which provide a rare context to document this phenomenon convincingly. But we still have more work to do to confirm that these are more than chance similarities in whistles.

Shared whistle types

Another exciting development has been our recent discovery of shared whistle types — ones that are used by multiple animals and that are not signature whistles. We call these non-signature whistles.

I could hardly believe my ears when I first discovered a repeated, shared non-signature whistle type being produced by multiple dolphins in response to sounds we play back to them through an underwater speaker. We had previously believed that these non-signature whistles were somewhat random, but now I was hearing many different dolphins making a similar whistle type.

Our team originally had been using the playbacks to try to determine whether dolphins use “voice cues” to recognize each other – similar to how you can recognize the voice of someone you know. Although we found that dolphins did not use voice cues, our discovery of shared non-signature whistle types has led to an entirely new research direction.

So far, I’ve identified at least 20 different shared non-signature whistle types, and I am continuing to build our catalog. We are hoping that artificial intelligence methods may help us categorize these whistle types in the future.

To understand how these shared non-signature whistle types function, we are carrying out more playback experiments, filming the dolphins’ responses with drones. We’ve found that one such whistle often leads to avoidance of the drones, suggesting a possible alarm-type function. We have also found that another type might be an expression of surprise, as we have seen animals produce it when they hear unexpected stimuli.

More difficult, more interesting

So far, the main takeaway from our experiments has been that dolphin communication is complex and that there are not going to be one-size-fits-all responses to any non-signature whistle type. This isn’t surprising, given that, like us, these animals have complicated social relationships that could affect how they respond to different sound types.

For instance, when you hear someone call your name, you may respond differently if you are with a group of people or alone, or if you recently had an argument with someone, or if you’re hungry and on your way to eat.

Our team has a lot more work ahead to sample as many dolphins in as many contexts as possible, such as different ages, sexes, group compositions and activities.

This makes my job more difficult – and far more interesting. I feel lucky every day I am able to spend working on the seemingly infinite number of fascinating research questions about dolphin communication that await answers.

Read more stories from The Conversation about Florida.

Laela Sayigh works for the Woods Hole Oceanographic Institution. She receives funding from various government and philanthropic organizations. She is on the board of the non-profit Cetacean Communication Research, Inc. She closely collaborates with the Brookfield Zoo Chicago’s Sarasota Dolphin Research program.

– ref. How dolphins communicate – new discoveries from a long-term study in Sarasota, Florida – https://theconversation.com/how-dolphins-communicate-new-discoveries-from-a-long-term-study-in-sarasota-florida-271276

Source: The Conversation – USA (3) – By Robert S. Olick, Associate Professor Emeritus of Bioethics and Humanities, SUNY Upstate Medical University

March 31, 2026, marks 50 years since a landmark decision
that shapes American patients’ rights every day: the New Jersey Supreme Court ruling in the case of Karen Ann Quinlan, who had suffered an irreversible coma.

Quinlan’s case established for the first time that decisions near the end of life should be made by patients and families, not by doctors and hospitals alone. As a bioethicist, I have taught and written extensively about the profound impact the Quinlan case has had on law, bioethics and the pursuit of death with dignity.

The Quinlan story

In April 1975, at the age of 21, Karen Ann Quinlan suffered a cardiac arrest and loss of oxygen to the brain while at a friend’s party. After she had gone to bed, friends discovered that she had stopped breathing, and she was rushed to the hospital.

After a while, doctors determined that Quinlan was in a persistent vegetative state: a condition in which all cognitive functions of the brain have been lost and the patient has no awareness of themselves or their environment. People in a persistent vegetative state retain some brain stem functions that regulate involuntary bodily activities, such as heart rate, blood pressure and digestion, but cannot live without continuous care and treatment. Some patients breathe independently with a feeding tube and other care. Quinlan needed both a respirator and a feeding tube.

When a persistent vegetative state is properly diagnosed, recovering cognitive ability is extremely rare.

After months of agonizing over their daughter’s plight, the Quinlans decided she would not want her biological life prolonged indefinitely in this condition and that it was not in her best interests. The family knew Karen as a very active, athletic and energetic young woman, who, when terminally ill people she knew had received aggressive treatments, had said she would not want similar measures.

Joseph and Julia Quinlan were devout Catholics who met often with their parish priest. He explained that Catholic teachings permitted removal of extraordinary treatments, like the respirator, that impose pain, suffering and excessive burdens without possibility of recovery. Many Catholic theologians believe that ordinary care and treatment such as feeding tubes, on the other hand, should be continued.

The parents requested the respirator be removed and that their daughter be allowed to die. But the doctor and hospital refused, prompting her family to go to court.

At trial

The Quinlans were represented by Paul Armstrong. He became their champion both in a court of law and in the court of public opinion amid the onslaught of press coverage.

At the heart of the case was the argument that patients have a constitutional right of privacy to refuse treatment, including life-sustaining treatment.

The Quinlans argued that Joseph should be appointed Karen’s guardian to exercise this right on her behalf, with authority to decide to remove the respirator. They contended that this should be understood as allowing a natural dying process to take its course, not as an act of suicide or homicide. No case had ever presented these principles to a court of law.

The doctors and hospital, along with local and state prosecutors, argued that there was no such right to die and that preservation of life was paramount. Two of the medical professionals’ claims stand out. First, that to continue the respirator was for medical experts to decide, not the patient or family. Second, that accepted norms of the profession required aggressive interventions to sustain life. Extending the patient’s life mattered more than its quality.

On Nov. 10, 1975, the trial court ruled against the family and held that the doctors and hospital had no obligation to comply with the family’s request. They could continue the respirator and decide whether and when it should be removed.

The Quinlans appealed to the state Supreme Court.

Landmark decision

On March 31, 1976, the New Jersey Supreme Court issued a unanimous opinion in favor of the Quinlans. The justices held that patients have a constitutional right of privacy to refuse unwanted life-sustaining treatments and that this right should not be lost when illness, disease or disability take away our ability to choose for ourselves. Family members may decide on behalf of incompetent loved ones, basing decisions on what the patient would want and acting in their best interests.

Stating the broader principles of the case, Chief Justice Richard Hughes wrote that the patient’s wishes are “predominant” even when doctors disagree, and these decisions must “be responsive not only to the concepts of medicine but also to the common moral judgment of the community at large.” With these words, the decision rejected centuries of physician paternalism – of “doctor knows best.” It ushered in the era of patient autonomy that puts patients and families first at the bedside.

The case would transform how decisions near the end of life are made and by whom. It also planted the seeds for hospital ethics committees and consultants who today serve to ensure sound decision-making and to help resolve disagreements privately without going to court.

The decision did not bring an end to the family’s painful journey, nor to public interest in the case. After the decision, the physicians removed and reattached the respirator, taking it away for progressively longer periods of time. Eventually, Quinlan was able to breathe on her own, while still in a vegetative state.

True to their Catholic faith, the Quinlans believed the feeding tube sustaining Karen’s life to be ordinary care that should be continued and that it was not causing her pain. They never asked that it be removed. Their daughter died from pneumonia nine years later on June 11, 1985.

End-of-life consensus

In the 15 years or so after the New Jersey ruling, courts across the nation saw their own end-of-life controversies and followed the core principles of the Quinlan decision to resolve them.

Meanwhile, state legislatures had another answer for the essential question: What would the patient want?

A decade after the Quinlan case, New Jersey created a Bioethics Commission to study advancing health care technology in light of the decision’s principles. The commission’s proposed legislation establishing advance directives was enacted on July 11, 1991. I was privileged to lead this project, as staff to the commission.

Today, all 50 states have advance directive laws that allow competent adults to plan ahead and put their wishes for end-of-life care in writing.

The rapid emergence of a national judicial and legislative consensus added several principles to the Quinlan framework: Treatment refusal rests on the inherent right of self-determination and does not depend on how the Constitution is interpreted. These same rights belong to those suffering from advanced cancer, heart disease or other terminal conditions. And patients may refuse any and all medical interventions, including feeding tubes.

These are all pillars of today’s legal, ethical, medical and social consensus around end-of-life care.

Put it in writing

Today, many Americans take the fundamental right to refuse unwanted treatments for granted and put off planning for life’s end. These are not easy conversations to have. According to a 2020 University of Michigan study, only 59% of adults ages 50-80 have discussed their treatment preferences with family members or another trusted person, and less than 50% have completed an advance care planning document.

I believe this anniversary is an occasion to appreciate these important rights and to consider putting wishes for end-of-life care in writing.

Robert S. Olick 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. 50 years ago, Karen Quinlan’s coma sparked the movement for patients’ rights near the end of life – https://theconversation.com/50-years-ago-karen-quinlans-coma-sparked-the-movement-for-patients-rights-near-the-end-of-life-277318

Source: The Conversation – USA – By Marla Miller, Distinguished Professor of History, UMass Amherst

For generations, most Americans knew – and maybe believed – a story about upholstery seamstress Betsy Ross and the making of the nation’s first flag.

In the account passed down through her family, Ross was a young Philadelphia widow when George Washington and a congressional committee asked her to make a flag for the Colonies uniting in rebellion against England.

A sketch showed what they envisioned: red and white stripes and a constellation of six-pointed stars across a blue field.

But, the story continues, Ross folded a piece of paper “just so,” made a single cut, and voila! She produced a perfect five-pointed star. The men approved, she stitched a flag, Congress cheered and history was made.

As a historian of early American craftswomen, including Ross, I have often seen how mythologies – history’s sound bites – can bury richer and deeper understandings of the past. That’s the case with Betsy Ross, whose story was never about designing one flag but about producing many – and being one of thousands of women whose labor was essential to the nation’s origins.

Making of a legend

In 1870, Ross’ grandson William J. Canby recounted the family’s story about Betsy Ross and the making of the first flag in a speech to the Pennsylvania Historical Society. Historians and members of the public greeted the tale with skepticism.

Canby’s best efforts notwithstanding, no archival evidence then – or since – has confirmed that Ross fabricated the first U.S. flag.

Still, the story gained traction. For a long while, Ross was a popular historical figure in U.S. culture, up there with the likes of Martha Washington and Abigail Adams. One of the earliest biopics imagined her life story, and her name graced everything from dolls to decanters. Over time, thousands of people began visiting her supposed home at 239 Arch St. in the Old City neighborhood of Philadelphia. The landmark is preserved as a house museum.

As late as the 1980s, history professor Michael Frisch reported that “college students asked to name any person from pre–Civil War America who is not a politician or military figure” included Ross “year after year.”

But in the years following the 1976 U.S. bicentennial, Ross’ fame was already cresting. Today many Americans aren’t entirely sure whether she was real or fictional.

Widow turned aspiring government contractor

Elizabeth Griscom Ross was indeed real. She was an upholstery worker who lived in Philadelphia from the 1750s to the 1830s. While no written record confirms the flag story, ample evidence survives to document the successful multigenerational flagmaking enterprise that she launched and then sustained with her daughter and granddaughters.

According to an oral history recorded with Ross’ youngest daughter, sometime in the 1760s a young Elizabeth Griscom, who was born in 1752, joined a sister employed by Philadelphia upholsterer John Webster. Ross learned the craft of upholstery as well as the making of tassels and fringe from Ann King, who oversaw women’s work there.

Ross married upholstery apprentice John Ross in 1773, and the pair launched a small shop. John died in January 1776. Ross’ second husband, mariner Joseph Ashburn, served the Revolution as a privateer and died in an English prison. In 1783, another privateer, John Claypoole, became Ross’ third husband, and the couple raised a large family and lived full lives in the city.

My take on the legend’s veracity is that it is partly accurate, partly not, and there isn’t really any “first” flag.

What is certainly true is this: Ross found herself widowed in 1776 just as Philadelphia braced for British forces, an effort that required the building of a navy and new flags representing the Americans. Women all around the seaport were getting contracts to stitch flags, and Ross surely wanted in.

The “Did she or didn’t she sew the ‘first flag’?” question is usually framed as a story of design, but it’s not: It’s a story of production.

Ross, drawing on years of experience, was saying to these potential clients, “If you want a lot of these flags, and fast, five-pointed stars work better.”

Women’s massive wartime effort

When Betsy Ross told this story later to her children and grandchildren, at the heart of the story is a young craftswoman who met the “Father of Our Country” – and believed she taught him something.

Understanding Ross’ real life is important because her story offers a view of women’s massive wartime production of flags, uniforms, tents, knapsacks and more – and because of the deep pride she and women like her felt in their contributions to the independence movement.

Hundreds of Philadelphia women – including, briefly, Ross – manufactured ordnance for the Schuylkill arsenal. White, Black, Indigenous, enslaved and free women provided labor in the form of nursing, cooking, and making and maintaining clothes that was essential to military encampments. Women shaped diplomacy directly, especially among Indigenous peoples, and indirectly as they shared their perspectives with husbands, fathers and sons. They also managed affairs for absent family and stretched scarce resources to sustain wartime households.

Whatever she did or did not offer to the making of the first U.S. flag, Elizabeth Griscom Ross Ashburn Claypoole certainly enjoyed a long career in flagmaking.

The best documentation for this came just before the War of 1812. When Purveyor of public supplies Tench Coxe needed flags, he steered contracts to the onetime Elizabeth Ross, now known as Elizabeth Claypoole. In 1808, for instance, Coxe recorded that yards of blue fabric were en route to her; weeks later, the craftswoman submitted a bill for two garrison flags, two silk flags and seven regimental colors.

In 1810, she was contracted for six 18-by-24-foot garrison flags for a military installation at New Orleans. These flags unfolded to 432 square feet and required more than 100,000 stitches. They must have been well received because another order followed, for 46 garrison flags, which she was to deliver “with all dispatch” to the arsenal. Orders also came in from the Indian Department to produce dozens of flags used in diplomatic exchanges with Native nations.

By the time the U.S. went to war with England a second time in 1812, flags by Elizabeth Claypoole, aka “Betsy Ross,” flew all around the United States.

Over her long career, Betsy Ross produced an unknown number of flags – the hundred or so recorded in archival sources represent a fraction of her total output. As the U.S. observes the 250th anniversary of its independence, Ross’ real life – today fully interpreted by the dedicated staff of the Betsy Ross House – offers a view into the lives of working women across America whose wartime labor helped build a nation.

Read more of our stories about Philadelphia, or sign up for our Philadelphia newsletter on Substack.

Marla Miller receives funding from the National Park Service as a consultant providing expertise on women and the the American Revolution.

– ref. What Betsy Ross’ real story tells us about women’s work in the Revolution − and why it still matters 250 years later – https://theconversation.com/what-betsy-ross-real-story-tells-us-about-womens-work-in-the-revolution-and-why-it-still-matters-250-years-later-276582

Source: The Conversation – USA – By Matt A. Barreto, Professor of Political Science, UCLA Luskin School of Public Affairs

In 2024, Donald Trump dramatically improved his performance among nearly all groups of voters from four years earlier. Trump’s growth among Hispanic voters was especially notable, increasing by more than 10 points from 2020 to 2024, at least according to exit polls.

This led to a considerable amount of commentary speculating that Hispanic voters, historically more supportive of Democrats, might continue shifting toward the GOP.

News reports suggesting Latinos were critical to Trump’s 2024 victory were, in our view, overblown. Even if Latinos had not shifted, Trump still would have won in 2024.

Yet there is no question that over the past three election cycles, Latino voters – Latino men under 40, in particular – have shifted right. That change has benefited GOP candidates, even as the majority of Latinos still voted for Democrats.

However, evidence from general elections in 2025 in places such as New Jersey, New York and Virginia, as well as special elections in 2026, suggest an abrupt correction is underway, with some of the Latino voters who backed Trump now swinging back to the Democrats.

As political scientists and pollsters who study Hispanic voting trends, we are concerned with the question of whether these latest movements are real or simply a function of fluctuating Latino Democratic turnout rates. In other words, are Latinos broadly changing their votes back to Democrats, or are Latinos who remained loyal to the Democrats now more angry and fired up?

Survey and election data suggest it’s a bit of both. So what does this portend for the future of American politics?

Latino voting trends

The history of the Latino vote nationwide had for decades been one of long-term stability. Historically, Democrats enjoyed an approximate 65% to 35% advantage over Republicans.

That advantage shrank marginally after Republican President Ronald Reagan signed the Immigration Reform and Control Act in 1986, providing a path to citizenship for millions. But the more familiar two-thirds advantage for the Democratic Party returned following passage of Proposition 187, a 1994 anti-immigrant initiative in California that ultimately mobilized Latinos against Republicans.

Another effort at GOP outreach to Hispanic voters culminated in President George W. Bush taking approximately 40% of the Latino vote in 2004. That growth, however, soon eroded in the wake of anti-immigrant legislation passed by the Republican-controlled House in 2005 and 2006.

The successful campaigns of Democrat Barack Obama in 2008 and 2012, as well as Hillary Clinton’s unsuccessful 2016 campaign against Trump, saw Democrats reaping a relatively high level of Latino support, peaking at a 3-to-1 advantage in 2012.

That made Trump’s improvements among Latinos in 2020 and 2024 feel, for some, particularly unexpected. He lodged notable breakthroughs in parts of Florida, where he carried Miami-Dade County, and Texas, where he flipped the historically Democratic Rio Grande Valley.

Some Latinos question whether Democrats have delivered

It should not have been such a surprise. There has been a history of sizable shares of Latinos supporting Republican candidates. For instance, both former President George W. Bush and his brother, former Florida Gov. Jeb Bush, performed well with Latinos in Texas and Florida.

For two decades, Democrats have campaigned among Latinos on the promise of comprehensive immigration reform and an economic policy that would level the playing field, including raising the federal minimum wage, providing universal pre-K education and promoting affordable housing.

Many Latinos feel they are still waiting for these Democratic policies to be enacted, let alone improve their lives.

Democratic trifectas in 2009-10 and 2021-22 – when the party held both chambers of Congress, along with the presidency – failed to produce meaningful movement on immigration policy. Many Latinos felt their daily lives had not improved, as they faced high costs of living, expensive housing markets and rising health care costs. While House Democrats did pass numerous bills to address these topics, Senate moderates proved difficult to persuade.

Given these shortcomings, running on the message that “the GOP are bad guys” only gets Democrats so far. In 2024, surveys and focus groups of Hispanic voters made it clear that not everyone was convinced by this characterization. The frustrations of working-class families during the Biden administration were real, whereas fears of mass deportations and other social chaos that a second Trump term might portend were, at that point, conjecture.

The Trump campaign specifically promised widespread action against immigrants, but many of our Latino focus group participants felt this was bluster. They believed that Trump’s actions would be targeted against blatant criminals and that his policies would not affect their families and friends.

They did not believe the worst-case scenarios presented by Vice President Kamala Harris and other Democrats during the campaign. Despite often not liking Trump, his economic promises felt good during the 2024 affordability crisis.

Latinos shifting back left?

Many Latinos are now quite upset with Trump. The 2025 gubernatorial elections in New Jersey and Virginia point to dramatic 25-point changes in the Latino vote in the Democrats’ direction, compared with Trump’s 2024 performance.

In December 2025, the first Democrat was elected mayor of Miami since 1997, with Latino support. A Democrat won a heavily Republican state legislative district in Texas in February 2026 with an estimated 79% of the Latino vote. Most recently, Latino voter turnout surged to record levels in the March Democratic primary in Texas.

Majorities of Latino voters believe that their economic fortunes have declined since Trump returned to the White House. Moreover, they expect the situation to worsen over the next year. In March 2026, The Economist reported that Trump’s support among Latinos had fallen to 22%.

In a bipartisan poll by UnidosUS released in November 2025, only 14% of Latino voters said their lives were better after one year under Trump, while 39% said they had gotten worse. Looking ahead, 50% expected things to get worse still in 2026, while only 20% were optimistic about their economic future. Two-thirds of Latino voters felt that Trump and the Republicans were not focusing enough on improving the economy for people like them.

What’s more, mass deportations have happened under the second Trump administration. The vast majority of those detained for deportation, including those who have died, had no criminal record.

Latinos are overwhelmingly opposed to federal troops in U.S. cities, according to our polling; 41% fear legal residents and U.S. citizens getting caught up in enforcement actions. The No. 1 immigration concern for Latino voters remains a path to citizenship for Dreamers – the undocumented immigrants brought to the U.S. as children – and for immigrants who have worked and paid taxes in the country for more than 20 years but lack formal status.

Among Latinos who actually voted for Trump, many would not do so again. Our poll suggests that 22% of Latinos who voted for Trump in 2024 would not vote for him again. By contrast, Democrats retain support from 93% of their 2024 Latino voters.

The long-term effects of the Trump presidency on the Latino electorate are difficult to predict, but for now party preferences have shifted firmly back toward the Democrats. Among voters in the UnidosUS poll, 55% said they felt the Democrats “care a great deal” about Latinos, compared with 29% saying they felt that way about the GOP. At the same time, 33% of Latino voters see the GOP as “hostile,” compared with just 7% who believe this about the Democrats.

If the recent leftward shift is sustained, or the earlier shift to the right was illusory, the effects on the politics of 2026 could be large, potentially putting control of Congress in the hands of Latino voters. There are 46 House districts where the number of registered voters who are Latino exceeds the total margin of victory for those seats in 2024, with 23 currently held by Republicans and 23 currently held by Democrats.

Latino voters need to believe that politicians truly care about their concerns and will work to implement a plan to create equal opportunities for the nation’s largest minority group to achieve the American dream. We believe the candidates able to make that pitch convincingly will be the most successful.

Matt A. Barreto is principal and co-founder of the polling firm BSP Research. BSP Research has conducted polling for non-profit and advocacy organizations, businesses, and candidates. Barreto has, in the past, directly consulted with Democratic candidates for House, Senate and the presidency.

Gary M. Segura is principal and co-founder of the polling firm BSP Research. BSP Research has conducted polling for non-profit and advocacy organizations, businesses, and candidates. Segura has, in the past, directly consulted with Democratic candidates for House, Senate and the presidency.

– ref. The ever-evolving Latino vote is rapidly shifting away from Trump and Republicans – https://theconversation.com/the-ever-evolving-latino-vote-is-rapidly-shifting-away-from-trump-and-republicans-277335

Source: The Conversation – USA (2) – By Perry Samson, Professor Emeritus of Atmospheric Science, University of Michigan

Curious Kids is a series for children of all ages. If you have a question you’d like an expert to answer, send it to CuriousKidsUS@theconversation.com.

Can a person survive inside a tornado? – Sophia, age 14, Greencastle, Indiana

I have seen the center of a monster. Most people describe the sound of a tornado as like a freight train, but up close, it’s more like a thousand screaming jet engines. I am one of the few people on Earth who has driven into a tornado and lived to tell the tale.

While it might sound like a scene from a Hollywood blockbuster involving a high-tech armored truck, my experience was much more dangerous and terrifying.

I am an atmospheric scientist who studies tornadoes, but I am only alive today because of split-second decisions and a massive amount of dumb luck. Believe me, I do not want to ever be in that situation again.

The day the sky broke

It started in northwest Kansas, where I was studying supercell thunderstorms – the kind that produce tornadoes – with a team of students from the University of Michigan.

We were positioned under a thunderstorm that was so dark, we had to turn on our vehicles’ headlights in the middle of the day. Suddenly, a tornado formed and began charging directly toward us.

The students were in other vehicles and got away, but my car was quickly swallowed by a cloud of flying debris so thick that I couldn’t even see my own hood.

With my options disappearing, I made a desperate move: I turned the car directly into the wind, hoping the vehicle’s aerodynamics would keep us pinned to the ground rather than being flipped like a toy.

The physics of fear

When you’re inside a tornado’s vortex, your body experiences things the news cameras can’t capture:

• The pressure change: A tornado is a localized area of rapidly changing pressure. Your ears don’t just “pop” – they ache, as if your head is being squeezed by giant hands.

• The solid wind: We measured wind speeds of almost 150 mph (241 kph) nearby, but inside the vortex, they were likely much higher. At those speeds, air hits you with the force of a solid object.

• The soup of darkness: In movies, the “eye” is a clear space. In reality, it’s a debris ball – a brownish-black soup of pulverized soil, trees and buildings. It was so dark that my camera couldn’t even register a picture.

As debris slammed into my windshield, I was terrified I’d be crushed by flying materials – tornadoes can pick up fences, wood and metal from buildings, tree branches, even cows. Textbook advice says to get into a ditch so you’re lying flat and might be more protected from flying debris. But the wind was so violent, I couldn’t even open the car door. I just stayed low and prayed.

The making of a monster

How does this severe of a storm even happen? It takes a perfect, violent recipe of atmospheric ingredients:

• Fuel: A tornado needs warm, muggy air (water vapor) near the ground with dry air above it. This creates the potential for rising air, but only if the atmosphere is unstable enough to overcome “the cap.”

• The cap: A thin “inversion” layer of stable air acts like a lid on that warm moist air, bottling it up until the moist air punches through.

• The dry line: The dry line is where warm, moist air from the Gulf of Mexico and dry air from the west meet. The advancing hot, dry air is actually heavier than muggy air, and this dry air pushes the moist air upward, disrupting the cap.

• Wind shear: Surface winds from the south and upper winds from the west create a horizontal rolling motion in the atmosphere. When the air is pushed upward, that rotation becomes vertical, creating what’s known as a mesocyclone.

• The jet stream: About 5 to 7 miles (8 to 11 kilometers) up, the jet stream is a fast-moving river of air. Disturbances within it can create areas that pull air upward from below and lower surface pressure.

Together, these ingredients can create the powerful, rotating vortex that you know as a tornado.

These storms can have winds up to 300 mph (482 kph) and leave a long path of destruction, sometimes more than a mile (1.6 kilometers) wide. They can stay on the ground for seconds or many minutes, tearing apart buildings and trees in their path. Where they will travel is hard to predict, so getting to safety should be a priority.

The monster’s lesson

When the storm passed, the silence was jarring. My rental car was mired in mud, the antenna was bent in half, and bits of straw were embedded in every single seam of the car’s body.

Tornadoes are extremely dangerous. Sixty-one people were killed by tornadoes in the U.S. in 2025, and many more were injured by flying debris. Make sure you know what to do when a tornado alert sounds – follow the alert’s advice and get to safety immediately.

When scientists chase storms, they are not trying to experience tornadoes – they are trying to measure the small-scale processes inside storms that cannot be observed in other ways. Many of the key processes that produce tornadoes occur within a few hundred meters of the ground and evolve over minutes, which means radars, satellites and weather stations often miss them.

Seeing a tornado and the damage it causes is a powerful reminder that people are not in control of everything. It serves as a warning to be wise and ready for anything. Sophisticated research using drones and radar is the smart way to study these monsters – seeing them from the inside is definitely not.

Willa Connolly, a student at Tappan Middle School in Ann Arbor, Michigan, contributed to this article.

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

– ref. Can you survive inside a tornado? This scientist did by accident – he’s lucky to be alive – https://theconversation.com/can-you-survive-inside-a-tornado-this-scientist-did-by-accident-hes-lucky-to-be-alive-278648