Journalist. Oxford alum. Lived on three continents. Passionate about digital media and its intersection with global politics. Get in touch: masuma (dot) ahuja (at) gmail
(Photo Courtesy of petesimon)
In the aftermath of the Delhi rape case, there’s news that the Indian government is proposing a wristwatch which could easily inform family and authorities when a woman is in danger/a dangerous situation.
There are questions about how effective the watch would be, but it’s opening up a conversation about if and how technology could be used to help ensure safety.
Apparently, the US government also challenged developers to create apps to help protect women against sexual violence and abuse. I don’t know how effective they are, but I remember hearing about them when I was in college.
An interesting app I stumbled onto was one called Shake SOS. It solves the worry of not having enough time to click through the app in an emergency by informing your contacts of an emergency if you shake your phone. An interesting concept, but what if your phone got shaken up in your pocket or your purse?
[CNet | India pushes for wristwatch to ward off sexual violence]
I enjoy reading recent books about India - especially about the slice of urban, middle-class India that is familiar. The world of Bollywood, call centers and shaadi.com.
Sideways on a Scooter by Miranda Kennedy falls flatly into this category.
Looking at the lives of women she was close to, a lot of what Kennedy writes about is their relationships, their marriages. What’s striking in these stories is the emphasis on family.
In India, getting married is often as much about families getting along as it is about the couple being compatible. It was interesting reading about the struggle many of the women she’s close with face: the disconnect between their independent lives and the more-conservative expectations of their families.
This same emphasis on community reminded me in some ways of what I miss most about India. There are always people around: friendly family, strangers, and neighbors.
The “boyfriended” women and their marriages aren’t the only thing Kennedy writes about, though. There’s a lot in there about poverty, the caste system, her own adventures settling into Delhi life, and her trips to Afghanistan and Sri Lanka as “Super Reporter Girl” (as she refers to herself).
I’ve been reading more about Mali. Two of the most striking things I’ve read about:
1. The conflict has been referred to as a “war without images” since journalists have had little access to the front lines.
Interesting fact I learned when reading up on this: the French army is called La Grande Muette (the Great Silent).
[CPJ: In Mali a war ‘without images and without facts’]
2. Music is banned by the militants.
Islamist militants have not only clamped down on types of clothes people can wear and smoking, they’ve also outlawed an important part of Malian culture: their music. They’re even clamping down on ringtones.
A story in the Guardian includes a powerful quote that captures the impact of music being banned:
“Culture is our petrol,” says Toumani Diabaté, the Malian kora player who has collaborated with Damon Albarn and Björk, to name but a few. “Music is our mineral wealth. There isn’t a single major music prize in the world today that hasn’t been won by a Malian artist.”
[CNN: What’s behind the instability in Mali?]
[Guardian: Mali: no rhythm or reason as militants declare war on music]
[BBC News: Blues for Mali as Ali Farka Toure’s music is banned]
The days after the election are crowded with celebrations, postmortems and predictions.
And after months of bi-partisan media attention, all the focus suddenly veers to the winner as the other candidate - the one who almost half of the country voted for - quietly slips from the limelight.
In the blink of an eye, the man who almost was President turns into just another man. The press stop clinging to every word. The secret service protection disappears. He even loses Facebook friends.
This happens every election cycle; the people we follow so closely slowly disappear from the news cycle. Perhaps this time it’s more interesting because it’s uncertain what happens next. McCain and Kerry both returned to the Senate.
While a quick Google search leads to pages of speculation (as does #NextRomneyJobs), what I wonder about most is life after lost elections. What is the return to normalcy like? Do you ever really get over it?
Longform and Slate have done an interesting series - The Longform Guide to Presidential Losers - that’s worth checking out.
And this article about Romney’s options in the New York Times begins to address all the questions I’m wondering about:
“The only door that is closed to Mitt Romney for the remainder of his life is being president of the United States,” said Steve Schmidt, a campaign adviser to Senator John McCain in 2008. “He can do whatever else he wants to do.”
He had a warning, though: “Losing a presidential campaign is something you never get over. The question is whether you can move forward without bitterness or rancor.”
I read a pretty good book yesterday. It’s interesting and an easy read at the same time. The book: Sad Desk Salad: A Novel by Jessica Grose.
Grose has worked for Jezebel and Slate and her novel is the familiar tale of a twenty-something blogger for a gossip site. The book covers territory including the blogger’s struggles with posting controversial content, about her coming to terms with the sometimes (im)morality of gossip-blogging, the impact/existence of hate blogs, and ultimately, the life of a New York City twenty-something who works on the Internet.
Sounds familiar, no? That’s what I like about this book (in addition to the clever name) - it’s about a world that I recognize. Even though I’ve never been quite as intensely plugged in as Alex (the main character/blogger in the book), the universe of page views, tweets, and texts is familiar.
And like Alex, a lot of sharp twenty-somethings I know have started writing for blogs in the years after college. In their experiences, I recognize the most striking and touching part of the book: the fears and worries that come with the transition from relative anonymity of a college student to finding a voice and an audience on the Internet.
Remember that piece in the Onion which did the rounds a few months ago — every presidential candidate in 2040 disqualified because of Facebook photos?
Well, I feel old now because high school teenagers seem to have found a solution.
I recently read an article in New York Magazine about Snapchat, an app where you lets you text photos that’ll get erased after a specified amount of time from the phone you send them to. Or, once the photo’s seen, it’s pretty much permanently deleted.
I like the idea in part because it’s starting to undo this scary sense of permanency that the Internet and app-culture have created. My generation definitely grew up with a cloud looming over our heads - don’t get photographed doing anything embarrassing and avoid compromising photos at all costs - they have a way of reappearing, the Internet never forgets.
Plus, when we’re so overloaded with output - people instagram food, their dog, their walks to work… No stone is left unturned, but few moments are actually memorable or even remembered. This might just be a nice way to eliminate some clutter.
All that said, it’s a little strange - we used to take photos to remember. Now, they’re just another way to share information. After all, gchat allows you to go off the record, why not be able to do the same with photos?
As I tried to figure out what to write about, I considered Hillary Clinton on Libya, an interesting profile of Joe Biden, the latest polling numbers.
Instead of writing about politics, though I thought I’d write about DC. Unsurprisingly, in the past few months I’ve met some incredibly political people. And I’ve also developed a slightly warped view of political engagement - nowhere else have I met people so engaged, impassioned by, and involved in politics.
Last Wednesday, I raced home from dinner at 8:45, just 15 minutes before the start of the vice presidential debate. The generally bustling streets were empty, restaurants were blasting CNN/MSNBC pre-debate coverage. I overheard a few confused tourists wondering where all the people were.
As I watch from on TV, many of my friends are leaving the district to campaign and canvas swing states and congressional districts. At the same time, introductions are made over the West Wing (still a favorite) and people get as psyched for debate parties as they do for Halloween. This town’s starting to grow on me…
I’ve always been a little intrigued by daily life during wartime. Perhaps because life during war is entirely alien to me, it is the furthest from any life I have ever known.
Wars have always been at a distance: on the TV screen, in newspaper articles, novels about Vietnam. India-Pakistan; Rwanda; Afghanistan; Iraq; the Middle East.
In college, I studied wars in the Middle East and Sub-Saharan Africa. While what I learned in university about the politics and economics of war provided a good framework to start from, I was always left wondering about what it meant to live during war. Do people go to the movies as bombs fall in the background? Do children still go to school? Do countries at war have a generation of worried mothers? Is there a calm before the storm - a quiet moment between peace and war?
The stories that have been the most interesting, and that have touched me the most, are of the people, culture, and cities who endure through conflict. That is, the stories of Paintballing with Hezbollah (VICE Magazine) and War Rations (NYT).
This story about life during wartime in Syria (NYT) has been on my to-read list for a long time, as it talks about life during and the “velocity” of war. An interesting bit:
On the two-hour drive from Damascus to Homs, I went through eight government checkpoints. Inside, the half of the city that was not leveled by tanks and fighting was semi-functioning: the shrubbery in the center of the road had been left to grow wildly, but a bus passed through to collect a few people lingering. It was a strange sign of normalcy.
Tomorrow is the international day of the girl child. (Read more on the UN website here.)
While the theme for this year’s day of the girl is ending child marriage, recent events make a mention of Malala Yousafzai - the teenage Pakistani girl who got shot because she wanted girls to have an education - both timely and necessary.
As the world has cried in outrage and horror, with Malala’s story making the front page of newspapers, the scary truth of global gender inequality remains hard to ignore.
As I started reading up on articles about gender equality, I stumbled on an interesting piece in Time, which says we should invest in girls to fight poverty. While the article presents some startling numbers, the most shocking is this:
Less than 2¢ of every development dollar goes to girls — and that is a victory compared with a few years ago, when it was more like half a cent. Roughly 9 of 10 youth programs are aimed at boys.
The slow but certain strides toward equality are only a good thing. But what’s shocking about this is that those who are investing in and propagating development and progress are not active and vocal champions of equality.
There’s an article in the New York Times today about a Jewish service where the rabbi tried an innovative technique to better engage the 20 and 30-something members of the congregation and help build community.
Throughout the service, when prompted by the rabbi, they responded to questions and thoughts (such as their regrets from the past year). The texts were anonymously displayed on a screen at the front of the room.
Perhaps what struck me most about the article was that the rabbi explained that this was a way to make prayer accessible.
My (very brief) reactions to this article.
- First, this is incredibly cool. As the article suggests, anonymous texts displayed to a safe and known group enable sharing and create a greater sense of community.
- I don’t have a ton of experience with organized religion, but the idea of making prayer accessible surprises me. I’ve always thought that prayer itself is a private and independent experience. We pray alongside each other, but prayer itself is a private conversation - it’s about having a conversation with a higher being, not with the congregation or its leader.
- That said, it seems like the aim is to make sermons more Gen Y-friendly - for the rabbi to engage with her congregation in a language and space where they’re comfortable. It almost seems like the idea is similar to the likes of Post Secret.
- I understand the appeal of engagement, and from an engagement-perspective, this initiative seems very cool. On the other hand, the idea that the best way to engage us is through texting (or tweeting or liking) is worrying - must we be plugged in to be engaged?
I’ve been off the map this past week, but to be fair I’ve been working long hours, getting little sleep, and then this happened too…
It’s hard to describe the energy (whether you agree with the party or not) at a convention - every one and every thing is abuzz - from the protestors to the delegates, celebrities to the town locals.
I’ve watched the big ticket speeches, and as a big news junkie and political fan, this is like two weeks of the superbowl for me. For many of the speeches, I’ve followed Twitter while watching - amused by the gifs that are created and the trends that pop up.
I find it fascinating - though hardly surprising - that the Twitterverse fixates on sometimes surprising things. During Biden’s speech, in DC, ‘literally’ was trending for a bit. I’m not even kidding. There’s the Invisible Obama twitter that sprung up during Clint Eastwood’s speech and now has a good almost 70k followers. Take some brass was popular during Clinton’s speech.
And then there was this photo of Hillary Clinton.
This might be a result of who I follow on Twitter, but it amazes and surprises me how engaged we are with the political process and the public figures who inhabit this political space.
How much of this is caused by the internet? If this political chatter wasn’t ubiquitous on the internet - from trending on Twitter to being shared on Facebook hundreds and thousands of time - would we love Hillary and her texts as much, would we obsess about Paul Ryan and P90X?
As many of my friends from university know well, every few months I obsessively read about Third Culture Kids (TCKs). I identify with the label, but not necessarily all of it.
Here’s a definition of a TCK, courtesy of Wikipedia:
A Third Culture Kid (TCK) is a person who has spent a significant part of his or her developmental years outside the parents’ culture. The TCK frequently builds relationships to all of the cultures, while not having full ownership in any. Although elements from each culture may be assimilated into the TCK’s life experience, the sense of belonging is in relationship to others of similar background.
I’ve definitely spent my formative years on two continents - one of my “parents’ culture” and one not. If you look even closer, it seems clear (to me) that even a country can have more than one culture. But I’m getting ahead of myself.
Why do I occasionally but obsessively read about TCKs - the likes of whom include Barack Obama and Tim Tebow?
The best explanation I can come up with is that I hate the question ‘Where are you from?’ While I carry only one passport, vote in one country, and have happily and willingly chosen one place as my current place-of-residence - I hate calling one country ‘home’ over the other.
All three countries and continents I’ve lived on are equally home to me. And, on the same token, none are quite completely home. Home is the best of all these worlds.
On a similar note, I like the idea of a TCK or a “global nomad” because the terms ‘immigrant’ or ‘expat’ seems so constraining to me: an immigrant leaves Home Country for Adopted Country - never to return permanently. An expat leaves Home Country for Adopted Country but plans to return. Both these definitions are limited to these two countries - one home and one adopted - you either return or you don’t.
There’s no movement forward, or onward. And what about once you’ve left an adopted country - what then? How do you define your relationship to it? While these are all semantics, I think they reflect a little of how we conceive movement across borders. As the world flattens, as my cousins from Bangalore travel for work to Seattle and Shanghai, Singapore and Spain, we will have to start to re-conceptualize what it means to belong to a place.
This seems to be the year to travel. Not for me, but for my friends. A handful of my closest partners-in-crime are globe-trotting: in Ecuador working for charities, on a music tour across the country, or just surfing their way up the South (and central) American coast.
As I read blog posts, see photos, and hear stories, I grow more and more jealous and start itching for an adventure of my own. Surprisingly, this has manifest itself less in hopeful trip-planning (because, let’s be honest, a handful of weeks off a year disappear into Thanksgiving, Christmas, and long weekends before you know it) and more in just living vicariously - through my friends, and through books.
Right now, I’m the biggest fan about books related to travel. No, I’m not just reading Bill Bryson and Bruce Chatwin.
My two latest reads (one this afternoon and one last weekend):
1. Walking the Amazon: 860 Days. One Step at a Time - Ed Stafford
Pretty self-explanatory title - it’s the story of a guy (written by said guy) who walks the length of the Amazon. Pretty incredible. The writing is simple and there aren’t many descriptions of all the pretty, pretty things he sees. Which is exactly what I like in travel writing - it’s verbose or prose-y, and not about the view of the mountains or the jungle - it’s about the experience. About what it feels like to walk that incredible stretch - the true frustrations, the anger, and the blissful moments. The other thing that kept me reading was that there was a sense of a plot. It wasn’t just about the walks. It was about whether he would, and could, survive - the police, the drug-traffickers, the jungle, the many many travel partners. By the end of it, I found myself rooting for him. And that’s as good a reason as any to keep reading.
2. The Sweet Life in Paris - David Lebovitz
I’m a big fan of David Lebovitz (check out his blog, if you haven’t - it’s about life in Paris and food) - if for no other reason, because he always inspires me to cook. And eat chocolate. His book is part-vignettes of life as an American in Paris and part-recipe book. Why I like the recipes is self-explanatory. Why I like the rest of the book is because it’s about the little things that get to you when living abroad. The awkwardness of Americans in sneakers as an American in Europe. The subtle ways of cutting in line. Ordering water in restaurants. I like it because discovering these small things and adjusting to them is always what makes me feel at home in a new city or country. It was when I began correctly referring to underwear as ‘pants’ and jeans/the American version of ‘pants’ as trousers that I started feeling a little less foreign in England.
I’ve been feeling a little under the weather and working long hours, so I’ve been out of commission for the last week.
But here goes. Never thought I’d be writing about an article from Thought Catalog on here, let alone an article about politics from Thought Catalog. But this piece - Hanging With Democrats and Republicans - is worth a read, especially since we’re in the midst of convention season.
I don’t agree with the premise presented here that people only do or should vote based on self-interest, given our present circumstances: I’m young but Medicare might be important to me at 70; even though abortion debates don’t directly affect those living in NY, it’s reasonable for New Yorkers to care about the rights they hold as Americans.
But there’s a whole body of academic literature out there on this - voting, how we vote, what influences voters etc.
The more compelling argument from this piece is that most people don’t really know where the candidates stand on the issues. They have few concretes to go on. And it’s just as much about messaging - so much of this information comes from a local paper, that viral YouTube video, ads on TV, or News at 11.
But, understandably, so few people really understand how each candidate wants to or could affect their lives: gas prices, jobs, “boosting the economy,” etc. etc.
Austin Tice, an American freelance journalist was reported missing in Syria today.
Reading about Tice - who also served in the Marines and is currently a student at Georgetown Law - it’s quickly clear that he’s motivated by a deep sense of purpose.
In a Facebook note that has been republished online, he wrote (about his decision to go and cover the situation in Syria):
We kill ourselves every day with McDonald’s and alcohol and a thousand other drugs, but we’ve lost the sense that there actually are things out there worth dying for…
…So that’s why I came here to Syria, and it’s why I like being here now, right now, right in the middle of a brutal and still uncertain civil war….
….No, I don’t have a death wish – I have a life wish. So I’m living, in a place, at a time and with a people where life means more than anywhere I’ve ever been – because every single day people here lay down their own for the sake of others.
Reading this, it’s easy to understand why the Internet has exploded with expressions of sympathy since news that Tice is missing was released. It’s easy to understand why we feel for and admire a man with such a strong commitment to telling the important stories.
At the same time though, I can’t even begin to fathom that we still live in a world where journalists still go missing.
Last week, I read this article - an update on his life by a journalist who’s trying to stay offline for a year.
The idea is interesting and definitely in-vogue. Everyone’s talking about the need for our stressed out, frazzled nation to just unplug. What’s incredibly interesting in his reflections is the realization that while a weekend offline seems novel and spa-like, a year without internet seems impractical and out-of-touch. When the excitement wears away, it’s just life again. But life that exists untethered to wife and 3G.
I also like this passage:
But nobody on my computer misses me anymore. I let out a small sigh. It hurts to be inessential.
I think it’s true that while we stay online for the information, entertainment, and to be in-sync with the world around us, what’s more compelling is the connection and the validation: the re-pins, re-tweets, notes, and likes from friends and strangers.
But who would really be missed online? How long would we really care about it if Lady Gaga, President Obama, or Oprah stopped tweeting?
My idea of a fun saturday night involves good ice cream and bad chinese food. My favorite part of chinese take-out is the fortune cookie - what could be nicer than your food coming with a pep talk baked into it (tonight’s fortune-cookie wisdom: success is on it’s way to you)?
I’ve always wondered about the history of fortune cookies and decided to do some digging. Here’s what I found:
While typically associated with Chinese food, fortune cookies actually originate in Japan. They came to America from Japan and Chinese restaurants apparently adopted the fortune cookie during Japanese internment during World War 2. (For more, click here or read this article)
This fascinating profile in the New Yorker of Wonton Food, the world’s largest fortune cookie manufacturer, sheds light onto the mastermind behind and world of nugget-sized wisdom that comes with American Chinese food.
While it’s hardly surprising that the shells are mass-manufactured and the wisdom inside comes from a rotating list, it’s interesting to see the mass-operation that makes it possible for us to consume this tasty, bite-sized wisdom.
There’s been a lot of buzz recently about a hot new venture called Upstart - which has been branded/referred to as the Kickstarter for people.
The idea behind it is crowdfunding capital for entrepreneurial young people. It’s aimed at providing financial support to the young and promising talents who don’t have readily available wealthy backers.
In return for the financial support, these young people promise to pay a certain percentage of their future income (for the next ten years, I think) to their funders.
The idea isn’t very novel - around when I started college, I remember reading about similar websites that served as college loans. But what makes it compelling (and worthy of the buzz) is the fact that it fills a real need.
I’m not sure how many people are willing to give up a significant proportion of their future income, but I sure do know a lot of people who picked uninspiring or insipid jobs because of the need for financial stability (and the lack of financially viable alternatives) - a lot of people who would have loved the option of setting up something new if they could have, financially.
What I’m really interested in is how students are vetted, in a sense. Mentors are obviously willing to invest in promising recent graduates,but I’d love to know how they identify/verify the entrepreneurial spirit.
It’s strange that I’d write about Saudi Arabia twice within a week, but I read this article - which is so interesting! - in the Guardian a few days ago. It details a plan in the kingdom to build a city exclusively for women.
From what I’ve read in this article and others, it’s just one more step to further the government’s efforts to minimize mingling between unrelated men and women in the country.
Here are some details from the article:
“The city, to be built in the Eastern Province city of Hofuf, is set to be the first of several planned for the Gulf kingdom. The aim is to allow more women to work and achieve greater financial independence, but to maintain the gender segregation, according to reports.
“Proposals have also been submitted for four similar industrial cities exclusively for women entrepreneurs, employers and employees in Riyadh.”
If you follow the media industry, it’s no surprise that the hot, new thing right now is video - social, engagement, and digital are all being combined in the hopes of making the new hybrid CNN, BBC, and YouTube online.
This shift is hardly surprising - even though I’m a big print (yes, print!) and digital media girl - it’s hard to deny the power of video. While I generally get all my news by reading the paper over breakfast and then following my favorite news sites (and twitter) through the day, there are moments when video is more appropriate.
A few weeks ago, when I woke up to a tweetstream about Colorado, I instinctually turned on the TV and tuned to CNN - as I read updates online. Similarly, two mornings ago, I woke up to news of Paul Ryan and turned on the news, because I wanted to watch the official announcement.
Videos, live streams, and live blogs are all definitely helping to fill the gap, but there are also instances when videos work better. Conversations between people. Olympic gymnastics. Clips of or entire speeches. Really cute animals (or babies).
That’s where the media is jumping in, in very different and interesting ways.
1. For the olympics - events that are so inherently built for watching (after all, no words can describe a gymnast on the balance beam or a swimmer touching the wall one hundredth of a second quick enough) - the Washington Post partnered with social cam - engagement, mobile, and video all together - very digital and news-friendly.
2. Today, HuffPo just launched HuffPost Live. It’s like a broadcast news channel, but online. The video segments - interviews, Google hangouts, and all - go along with engaging stories. This in itself isn’t revolutionary or very different from what other sources do, but the 12-hour live news and the fact that it’s so integral is what’s different.
3. Waywire (or, #waywire) - the start-up that’s gotten lots of buzz (in large part because of the Cory Booker involvement). I’m still understanding what #waywire is specifically, beyond just a video platform for millennials. It looks like a mix of a video-search, video-tagging, video-watching platform to create your own personal channel which has subscribers (think engagement, social, and with news)… all this with raw video footage from several sources.
January 10, 2011 - originally published on Oxford Today
In early November, I read an article by William Deresiewicz in the New York Times that tried to characterize my generation, the millennial generation; Deresiewicz called us ‘Generation Sell’.
I haven’t been able to get the article out of my mind. Not because I entirely agree with it, but rather because one sentence rung too true: ‘We use social media to create a product — to create a brand — and the product is us’.
That sentence sums up my post-university experience almost too accurately.
Over the past few months, as I have navigated the characteristic challenges of a recent graduate – from networking to applying for new opportunities – it’s inevitable that I’ve had to sell myself – why should I write for the blog? Why do I deserve the job?
But I’ve found, not just for me, but also for most of my peers, that selling ourselves extends far beyond the cover letter and the CV – we’re also a sum of Google results and social media profiles.
Think about it. When was the last time you met someone interesting and didn’t go home and Facebook/Google/LinkedIn/Twitter him or her?
We have so many profiles – so many versions of ourselves – readily available on the Internet, from the photos of a vacation, to the links to articles we like, to the names of our favorite bands. Since every like, dislike, and experience has the opportunity to be (and often is) chronicled, we are constantly compelled to sell ourselves.
I have many friends who are terrified by the public image portrayed on the internet: they have deactivated Facebook, stay away from Twitter, and refuse to blog for fear that a future employer or significant other might discover their potentially controversial opinions or life experiences.
While I definitely agree that there has to be a clear and distinct line between the public (that’s shared) and the private (that remains offline), I’ve found that it’s better to embrace the opportunities to sell myself – from setting up a website, to Tweeting, blogging or Facebook-ing – than to shy away from creating an online, Google-able version of myself.
While my peers and I are definitely preoccupied with selling ourselves online, more than anything else, I think it’s important to remember that we stay plugged in because it’s fun and a great way to stay connected. After all, who doesn’t want to know what Daily Mail articles their Facebook friends are reading?
January 3, 2011 - originally published on PolicyMic
Over the last two and a half years, over 400,000 women have dropped out of the labor force.
The staggering number is worrying and indicative of a larger and more interesting trend: As employment opportunities remain dismal, especially for millennials, young women are choosing to go to school to get more qualifications instead of getting a job. In fact, there are more young women enrolled in school now than there are in the work force.
The shift in what young women are doing is interesting not only because it is telling about the current, gendered economic situation, but also because it predicts the changing role of women in our future economy.
This trend – particularly the gendered aspect of it, where women, not men, are choosing to return to school – reflects the differences in opportunities for young men and women in the workforce.Data shows that in the 2.5 years since the recovery began, men between the ages of 16 and 24 have gained 178,000 jobs, whereas women in the same category have lost 255,000 jobs.
The numbers say it all – it isn’t just harder for young women to gain employment compared to young men, these women are actually losing jobs while their male counterparts are gaining employment.
Further, the earnings gap – the fact that women earn disproportionately less than men – is an additional incentive to pursue more education that could lead to higher paying jobs, especially in today’s economy, where job options are few and far between.
It is easy to understand why young women are going back to school in the current, dire economic climate, and the effects of this trend are going to have an incredible impact on the role women play in tomorrow’s economy and workforce: They will be more employable, more qualified, and more likely to be the driving force behind economic booms.
Perhaps for the first time ever, women in our generation might be more qualified, maybe even more employable, than their male cohorts.
Some have predicted that this return to school could result in an economic boom since people are getting better qualifications and improving their skills, similar to when World War II veterans returned from war and went to school with the help of the G.I. Bill, instead of searching for jobs. If true, women could be the driving force behind an economic boom, drastically changing their role in the economy.
These broad economic predictions, of course, might not hold, but the overarching effects of women going back to school are significant and should not be ignored: By gaining more educational qualifications, young women might be able to go from being paid and employed less to being more qualified and getting better jobs than their male counterparts.
January 3, 2011 - originally published on Oxford Today
A few weeks ago, I returned to Oxford for thanksgiving, for the first time since finals. At the airport, I had butterflies in my stomach. I was nervous about returning – for the first time as a visitor, not a student.
But as the coach pulled into Gloucester Green, I was hit by the overwhelming familiarity – dragging an all-too-heavy suitcase to the front of college, the fearless cyclists, and the lively, dressed-up crew dates-goers: so little had changed.
I expected that just as my life had changed drastically over the last few months, Oxford (and the people I knew here) would have too.
But over the course of my visit, I found myself slowly settling back into the comfort of returning to the familiar – not just the friendly faces and streets, but also the same routines, similar conversations.
And even though most of my friends are done with studying at Oxford and off doing various things – from laboring through 14-hour nursing shifts to handling social media for a charity – though we no longer had the same essay crises and problem sheets to worry about, I was relieved to find that our lives were surprisingly similar. We shared the common struggles of recent graduates and often, the common nostalgia for everything strange and special about Oxford.
One night during my visit, sitting around a table, sharing a home-cooked thanksgiving dinner (turkey, pumpkin pie, and all) with about 20 others, it became increasingly clear that even though I was across an ocean, living a vastly different and exciting post-university life, I would always find comfort in returning to Oxford and the people I met here – the only ones who understand why carnations make me nervous and nauseous and why I long to go punting when the sun comes out.
Back in New York, people are intrigued by my stories about university – how dinner was like Harry Potter, with a high table and gowns, how we had boat races not football games, crew dates not frat parties.
Perhaps because Oxford is so different from American universities, or because it was an important experience for many who attended the University, across the Atlantic, I have found that the alumni network here is strong and supportive. Oxford graduates I have spoken to (often responding to my out-of-the-blue emails for career advice) are usually warm and eager to reminisce together about the weird and wonderful bits of Oxford. Some I’ve shared tutors with; others laugh with me about the college cat; and then some will mention things everyone knew all-too-well: the incomprehensible lecturers, the awful bops, and the sleepy mornings in the Bod.
So, even as I encounter new experiences and build new bonds, excited as I pace forward from Oxford and student life, it still makes me smile when, after an introduction, someone asks, and what college were you at?
December 15, 2011 - originally published on PolicyMic
Yesterday, news websites and status updates exploded in despair and awe: Facebook had finally changed for American users; the much-anticipated timeline is here.
The timeline is as much an elegant redesign as it is a rethinking of the Facebook profile page, and this is what makes it important: The timeline is the next logical step to ensure that Facebook continues to dominate our internet interactions and is going to enable the social network to become even more ingrained in our lives.
To understand why the timeline is so important, it’s first necessary to understand what the timeline is and how it is different.
On the old Facebook profile page, the most recent stories of an individual’s activity, as well as recent posts from their friends, appear on the profile. Information quickly gets buried and finding activity a few months or years old takes digging.
With the timeline, however, a user can filter by year and month, able to see a progression – a literal, visual timeline – of activity and posts.
So, what’s significant about this change is not that it enables users to create content or changes how much is seen, but rather that it changes what a profile page is. It’s even worth noting that the timeline isn’t changing what can be seen but rather how easily it can be found. Since users have the power to determine what is seen and how their activity and their lives appear on the profile page, it becomes a more natural personal homepage, scrapbook, and portfolio.
However, the reason the timeline is so powerful is not only because it makes sharing information easier, but also because it has been launched in the era of the Facebook app.
Due to the rising popularity of apps, Facebook has become the natural internet aggregator of personal data. Now, Facebook doesn’t just keep record of our status updates and photo albums, it also has a detailed history of where we’ve checked in, who we’ve been with, what we’re tweeting, what music we’ve been listening to, what news stories we’ve been reading, and what comments we’ve been leaving on PolicyMic.
Since most significant websites or digital services have an add-on Facebook app, our digital lives have found a natural home on Facebook. The old profile page, however, was outdated. It was less of a personal profile and more of a personal newsfeed – often clogged up with articles read and songs listened to over the past few days. The timeline is the much-needed update.
The new page doesn’t make it easier for our digital activity to live on Facebook, rather, it makes it easier to present ourselves – tweets, Spotify playlists, Washington Post articles and all – online. It is undeniable now, for better or for worse, that our digital existence is increasingly dependent on Facebook.
December 7, 2011 - originally published on PolicyMic
If you try going to RickPerry.com, you’re in for a surprise. You don’t end up at the Texas governor’s website, but rather at fellow Texan, Rep. Ron Paul’s campaign website.
No, Perry hasn’t dropped out of the race (yet). No, he is not endorsing Paul. Perry’s official website is RickPerry.org. While candidates and corporations often buy all domains similar to their own in order to ensure that supporters who mistype are redirected to the correct website – Perry and other GOP presidential contenders have neglected to do so.
In Perry’s case, this neglect is going to cost him – mistyping supporters aren’t just left hanging as is often the case (try newtgingrich.com) – but they’re redirected to another candidate who they could lend their support.
This amusing campaign mischief is telling about the changing landscape of campaigns and how candidates are going to fall behind if they don’t get on board with the internet, and quickly.
While a TV or print advertisement can tell you why Paul is better or why Perry is worse, that is all it can do. With this website however, we aren’t being told which candidate is better or worse. Instead, when people go searching for Perry, they just end up finding Paul.
Further, what is particularly interesting thing about RickPerry.com is that the Paul campaign claims that it isn’t their work. Whomever owns RickPerry.com controls where the website is forwarded to. This means that anybody with the foresight to buy these domains also has the power to influence and redirect supporters.
While this mishap and redirect don’t necessarily point in favor of the Paul campaign, they are yet another sign that some of the current GOP candidates could learn a lot about how to use the internet to their advantage – just take a look at Romney’s sponsored tweets and Jon Huntsman’s daughters’ viral YouTube video.
December 5, 2011 - originally published on fem 2.0
The stories we hear of women in developing countries are often heart breaking – they’re the stories of struggle, of lack of empowerment – like the one from this past week about theAfghan woman expected to marry her rapist.
It’s not only heartening and inspiring – but also incredibly important – when we hear about people like the ‘Avon ladies’ of Bangladesh. These incredible women are breaking cultural barriers and redefining their role in society. Their work might not be revolutionary – they are the Bangladeshi equivalent of traveling, door-to-door salesmen, working through a partnership between Unilever, Danone, and BIC and Care International – to sell products ranging from soaps and razors to cosmetics.
In a country where a mere 4% of women work for a wage, where they earn less than their male counterparts, and where it is accepted that a woman’s place is in the home, not at work – these women, selling soap, sachets, and shampoo – are the true revolutionaries.
The program, of course, has faced its fair share of criticism on a broad range of issues: the low turnover rate, the fact that the program still restricts women to the domestic sphere, the fact that these products aren’t locally made … the list is long and is not without merit.
But it’s worth taking a second to notice the nature of the complaints. The conversation itself is shifting – albeit slowly – from one which questions what the place of women in developing societies is and whether they will be able to leave the domestic sphere and join the workforce – to one that accepts their role in the workplace, that accepts their role as door-to-door sales women, and questions, instead, the nature of the products they sell.
While the program might not be perfect, it’s undoubtedly a step in the right direction, because it is these grassroots efforts that are going to carve a new role for women in the developing world – one that changes the nature of the conversation and imagines a space for women both at home and at work.
The ‘Avon ladies’ of course aren’t alone. They are part of a much larger story of empowerment. The larger story includes the 97% of Grameen bank borrowers who are women – starting small projects and working their way out of poverty; the women who are victims of human trafficking and have learned crafts – such as jewelry making as a tool to enable economic independence and empowerment; and the women at the bottom of the caste pyramid in North India who have created a weekly newspaper.
As each of these individual efforts – like that of the ‘Avon ladies’ – changes the conversation to one about what women are doing in developing contexts instead of one about whether they will be able to get involved – we make small strides toward empowerment and equality.
November 16, 2011 - originally published on fem 2.0
“You come to expect the vitriol, the insults, the death threats,” writes Laurie Penny of The Independent.
What has Penny done to deserve the barrage of attack and abuse? Oh, well, she’s a woman writer.
Over the past weeks, women bloggers and writers including Penny have taken to Twitter (#mencallmethings) to share their stories of the abuse they have faced as women writing online.
Scrolling through the thousands of tweets and blog posts emerging about the topic, themes start to emerge: rape, “slut,” “hoe”… you get the picture. The threats and insults these women have faced are often graphic, often sexual, and almost always unwarranted and hurtful.
The theme of trolls leaving unsavory comments on websites of course isn’t new, or exclusive to women writing online. Part of the deal when writing on the internet – man or woman – is opening yourself up to criticism and comments. The issue here, though, isn’t criticism. It’s the misogyny veiled as criticism. Calling a woman a ‘slut’ in response to a political post or threatening to rape her isn’t criticism. It’s abusive.
Further while the internet has blurred boundaries and most content produced online falls under free speech, as Helen Lewis-Hastley of the New Statesman makes an important distinction – that the right to free speech is not the right to make threats against another person.
These comments are worrying not only because they make the internet feel a little less safe, but also because they are telling about society. That some deem it acceptable to criticize a writer based on gender, to comment with threats of sexual violence is worrying. And that someone’s gender can be seen by trolls and critics as a writer’s weak spot – an easy target to attack – is just appalling.
The price that women pay for sharing their opinions should not be threats and abuse, and equally importantly, should not be sexualized threats and gender-based abuse.
Many bloggers – often those who have faced such comments – have spoken up in recent weeks about #mencallmethings and the abuse that they face. While anger from these women is expected and universal, that they often argue that these trolls are an expected part our reality is a harsh truth.
For example, Kate Smurthwaite of Cruellablog writes, “These comments reveal a deep-seated hatred towards women. I find that unsurprising in our culture. Violent, extreme pornography is normal internet fare. Gang rape and prostitution are subjects for popular music. At least 95% of actual rapists are on the streets.” #mencallmethings is just the tip of a very big iceberg – it’s indicative of bigger problems in society – that “we still live in a sexist society, [and] any woman who sticks her head above the parapet will encounter misogynistic abuse,” according to Natalie Dzerins ofForty Shades of Grey.
It’s worth noting, of course, that while the internet has in a sense enabled this trolls – giving them an easy voice, these trolls are not representative of all commentators.
Just look at the solidarity found on #mencallmethings. Just as there are critics and abusers, there are many offering comfort and calling out for change.
And as the women who face vitriol share their struggles and their stories, they further an important discussion, not only about comments on the internet, but about the underlying causes for these comments in society. By discussing the opinions and stereotypes fueling this abuse, we take another step toward tackling the misogyny behind it.
November 2011 - originally published on PolicyMic
On Sunday’s Meet the Press, GOP presidential nominee Jon Huntsman announced that he would drop out of the race if the New Hampshire primary does not go well for him and his campaign. His chances don’t look good, as he has consistently been polling nationally in the single digits. However, Huntsman’s saving grace could be his three oldest daughters, who have recently come into the media spotlight, as they tweet and YouTube, often controversially and perhaps only for media attention, about their father’s campaign. Whatever their motives, though, one thing is clear: Huntsman’s three daughters have brought his campaign more attention than anything else has.
Huntsman has largely been ignored by mainstream media and voters alike as Herman Cain and Mitt Romney speed ahead, both in terms of recognition and likability. This might be surprising considering that Huntsman ended his term as Utah governor with an 80% approval rating and that the New York Times’ Nate Silvers predicts Huntsman as the GOP contender most likely to win the popular vote under any economic scenario. Yet, few have been talking about this former ambassador and his presidential aspirations.
Now, this is all changing as Mary Anne, Abby, and Liddy – the Huntsman daughters – take matters into their own hands. The girls gained fame when they put on big glasses and fake mustaches and parodied Herman Cain’s campaign manager, Mark Block blowing cigarette smoke at the camera in Cain’s infamous and controversial campaign ad.
Since then, the girls have developed a Twitter following with their @jon2012girls account of nearly 9,000 people. Through social media they’ve been vocal about their father and the GOP race, bringing both humor and a surprising honesty to the campaign. They have become the most prominent voice of the campaign, known, for example, for famously saying, “How does Romney know anything about China? He’s only been there once and that was for the Olympics. Panda Express doesn’t count.”
Many in the media have speculated that the trio has sought media attention only to build their own personal following. They wouldn’t be the first family to capitalize on presidential aspirations; they would be following in the footsteps of the Sarah Palin’s family – which has provided fodder for tabloids and gone on to make a reality show since the election or Meghan McCain, whose blogging career took off with her father’s 2008 presidential bid.
Whatever their future intentions, for now, the three daughters join in a line of candidates’ children who have defended their parents and campaigned furiously for them, including Chelsea Clinton, who campaigned actively for her mother in 2008, even angrily fielding questions about the Lewinsky scandal.
And with their efforts, Abby, Liddy, and Marry Anne have succeeded, at least, in bringing much-needed media attention to Huntsman and his efforts, as many on Twitter and even the New Yorker, Jezebel, and many others begin talking about Huntsman and the trio.
October 31, 2011 - originally published on Oxford Today
Like most recent grads, affordable living is high on my list of priorities – which means I’ve sacrificed comfort for a life spent commuting. As much as I complain about the many long hours I spend on the train, this time is special because it is the only time of day – as my train whizzes past suburban New Jersey and under bustling New York City – that I am disconnected. No cell phone service, no internet.
At work, I’m plugged in – I work at a start-up political news analysis website, so keeping up with what’s going on and being online are both not just expected, but also required.
Away from work, my iPhone and laptop are always buzzing with new messages, unread emails.
As I’m beginning to adjust to this new, ‘adult’ life – where pub trips and bops are replaced with happy hours and brunches – I’m learning to strike the balance of meeting new and exciting people whilst trying to maintain relationships with old friends.
Making the transition to the ‘real world’ isn’t so different from first year at university – there are lots of drinks with strangers; awkward moments with forgotten names; and, sometimes, real connections.
Trying to stay in touch, on the other hand, is, in many ways, uncharted territory. Without plans of returning to England soon and in an effort to avoid crazy international phone bills – means I have to turn friendships, formed over late-night chats in the JCR and burnt meals in halls, into e-friendships, relying almost entirely on Facebook and GChat.
I don’t just read status updates and look at photo albums, I now hear important news on the internet as well: an email from a friend coming out, a Facebook update about an acquaintance passing away.
Suddenly, I have started crying to and comforting a screen.
Distance makes it harder, and I’m glad that I still hear gossip and news within the week, but there’s something to be said for the fact that so many of our post-university relationships survive on social media. I’m now beginning to find that we’re growing more comfortable typing than we are talking, preferring emoticons to even the grainy pictures on Skype.
I’m adjusting to life after university slowly – enjoying the vibrant world of New York and the daily excitement working at a start-up brings, but remembering at the same time to update my status and email my friends about all my adventures.
October 21, 2011 - originally published on No Labels
Recent news that President Barack Obama raised a whopping $43 million dollars from July through September for his reelection campaign puts into the spotlight the issue of who is donating to presidential campaigns and which candidates these donors are backing in 2012.
While Obama has raised an enormous sum of $99 million this election season, there’s been one notable exception from his camp of donors: Wall Street. While the financial sector backed and donated more $42 million to Obama’s campaign in 2008, this time around, they are supporting former governor and Wall Street CEO Mitt Romney.
In a political environment where money means influence, this shift of allegiances is telling about the increasingly partisan nature of U.S. politics.
The numbers say it all: Until now, 52% of Obama’s fundraising has come from small donations, while only 22% of it falls under the category of $2,500 donations (the maximum amount that can be given). By contrast, a staggering 61% of Romney’s money has come from donations of $2,500, while only 10% has come from small donations.
Even more indicative of the difference between Obama and Romney is the composition of the donor-pool for the two candidates. Romney’s number one campaign contributor has been Goldman Sachs, whose employees and their spouses have given over seven times more to Romney than to Obama. Goldman’s preference for Romney is part of a larger trend; while 23% of Romney’s money has come from the finance, insurance and real estate sectors, less than 5 percent of Obama’s is from the same group.
This split may not come as a surprise. In 2008, Obama was the candidate who transcended partisan politics. Wall Street donated to him. Young people campaigned for him. Unions supported him. But, since his election, he’s lost Wall Street’s support by backing financial reform and even calling Wall Street “immoral.” On the other hand, Romney has furiously defended the industry, insisting that “corporations are people.”
But given this split, what also should not be surprising is the increasingly partisan nature of Washington politics. When entire industries, such as the financial sector, are choosing to support one party and candidate rather than spread their donations more evenly across parties, it’s natural that our politicians will cater to interest groups and divide across party lines. The issue is not simply that Wall Street is supporting Romney, but rather that they are not also supporting Obama.
In today’s polarized political atmosphere in which compromise is a dirty word, the growing gap between who funds our political parties and candidates leaves little hope that Washington will get any less partisan any time soon.
October 17, 2011 - originally published on PolicyMic
On Sunday, at a “Stop the Machine” protest outside the Supreme Court in Washington, D.C., prominent author and Princeton professor Cornel West was one of 19 people arrested.
The protest was one of the 1,420 similar “Meet-ups” around the world and was in solidarity with the Occupy Wall Street protests, taking a stance against corporate greed.
As the new international movement Occupy Together gains traction, the fact that thought leaders such as West are lending their voices to the movement is telling about the future of the protests’ political leadership – if it chooses to adopt any at all. OWS, whether it continues to protest against the system or attempts to reform it from within, will inevitably include influential figures such as West.
Despite the liberal leanings of Occupy Wall Street, it is increasingly clear that the movement will not be absorbed by the Democratic Party. It will instead have to form its own leadership.
OWS has been a vocal critic of the Democratic Party and President Barack Obama. West, for example claimed that Obama is “a black mascot of Wall Street oligarchs and a black puppet of corporate plutocrats.”
Because OWS’ criticism has been aimed at the political and economic system, including politicians, the movement will likely seek leadership outside of the current political establishment.
Until now, OWS has largely been leaderless and without a coherent message. Many, including West, have argued that the movement does not need a single message since it is meant to signify the general dissatisfaction and discontent with corporate greed, poverty, and the economic condition of the nation. The over-arching and unfocused movement has chosen to let all protesters have an equal voice, refraining from electing a particular leader.
However, in order to provide a legitimate alternative to the existing political structure, the movement has begun an initiative to elect leaders from its own movement to “all levels of government and get rid of greed and corruption on Wall Street, in our corporations, and in our government, ” according to its “Occupy Party” website.
That the movement has adopted a two-pronged approach – both protesting in an attempt to ask government to change and at the same time searching for possible leaders to change the system – raises questions about what the movement is exactly trying to accomplish. OWS should either focus on changing the system or providing a legitimate alternative in the upcoming elections.
While the movement contemplates whether to select leaders who will voice their concerns in government, it is clear that they must focus their resources and energy on either protesting against government or electing leaders to government.
Whatever direction and form the leadership of the movement takes, one thing is certain: It is sure to include prominent voices such as West’s in its efforts to reform the system. No longer will OWS be a leaderless protest.
October 2011 - originally published on PolicyMic
After three days of interrupted service, empty inboxes, and no internet connectivity, millions of Blackberry users’ service is finally being restored. Blackberry’s problems spanned the globe, with users from the Middle East to Canada left offline.
With Twitter exploding over the past few days with irate users struggling to find answers and urging Blackberry to restore service quickly, the widespread disruption makes one thing clear: We must think about the impact our dependence, as a society, on a single device such as the Blackberry.
The service disruption made work slower for those who rely on Blackberry e-mails; for example,congressional staffers struggled during the 12-hour debate on the Senate floor about free trade agreements to coordinate between aides on the floor and in Senate offices. While the outage did not stop government business, it did slow it down and highlight dependence on mobile e-mail.
One wonders, even, if our commander-in-chief, famous for his Blackberry addiction, was left helpless and disconnected.
Similarly, business on Wall Street slowed as bankers were hindered without mobile access. Many banks, like Barclay’s Capital, for example, issue only Blackberry’s to their employees – making the disruption’s impact inevitably disastrous.
Blackberry’s stock has been plummeting – the recent outage will do little to help it.
Twitter and Facebook feeds over the past few days have been cluttered with grief, outrage, and humor, all about the outage.
It is evident, especially over the past few months, that technology has an incredible power to empower people, with social media and blackberry messaging enabling protests and riots alike.
However, our dependence, as a society, on a single device, is frightening. The fact that our financial institutions’ and government’s functioning effectively could be hindered by lack of internet on mobile phones highlights not only our reliance, but also the incredible power that these companies hold.
If Blackberry service completely shut down, would Wall Street and the hill, too, slow to a complete halt?
Perhaps the answer is simply to diversify our mobile phone options. Or maybe we need to hold Blackberry, as a company providing society a necessity, more accountable. Whatever move we take, we, as a society, need to realize that smart phone outages will keep coming; it is up to us to decide how best we prepare to deal with them.
October 10, 2011 - originally published on fem 2.0
If you take a snapshot of the world as it stands today, a few things come to mind: our population is exploding as we hit seven billion this month, the Middle East is erupting with protests and calls for democracy and human rights, and the GOP candidates are debating weekly on how they can best improve our economy and country.
However, few of the images we conjure include the $8 billion industry that involves about 12 million people a year, the third largest illegal trade after drugs and arms: sex trafficking.
By definition, sex trafficking is a specific form of human trafficking – when people are involuntarily transported, abducted, or harbored and exploited for sexual purposes.
The definition might seem technical and dry, but the stories of victims are far from it – sex trafficking includes the teenage girls who cross the border from Mexico to the United States in hopes of finding a better life but find instead a brothel; the children who are sold for 15-minute slots throughout the day; the runaways who are abducted and sold.
These stories aren’t just heart-wrenching accounts from the third world. They are the stories from small towns and big cities across America. The shocking numbers tell all: Tens of thousands of women and children are trafficked from Mexico to the United States every year and many American children, estimates run as high as 100,000, who are often runaways but also those from ‘good’ families – are abducted, coerced, or lured away from home and then sold for sex.
The problem we face is not only the horrific reality that people are trafficked and that there is a market, both in the United States and around the world, that exists to exploit these people, but also that we know so little about the problem and its magnitude.
And so, it’s the people who are making noise about sex trafficking who are the ones making a difference. The people like Triveni Acharya, who runs the Rescue Foundation in India, where she rescues and rehabilitates young girls who are victims of sex trafficking. By taking on the prostitution rings and pimps on a daily basis, Acharya doesn’t just make change, she also makes the headlines, raising awareness with her raids and rehabilitation program.
And it’s people like Lydia Cacho, a courageous journalist who has tried to tell the story of sex trafficking from every angle – not only by interviewing extensively, but by going undercover as well, who are raising awareness by raising their voices.
October 10, 2011 - originally published on PolicyMic
This morning, Netflix CEO Reed Hastingsannounced on the company’s blog that it would abandon plans to divide the company into two – with streaming and DVD rentals both remaining at Netflix.
The company’s decision to hold off on launching Qwikster is in response to consumer dissatisfaction expressed on the internet and points to the power social media has in enabling people to express their opinions and in allowing companies to respond to the needs and wants of the market.
The move is one in a long line of changes implemented by the company.
The first was Netflix’ price hike – from $10 to $16 a month – for both streaming and DVD rentals. While users expressed anger at the increase in prices, two months later, Netflix exacerbated consumer dissatisfaction and announced a new plan to divide the company into two – with streaming of videos remaining at Netflix and DVD rentals moving to a new company, Qwikster.
The new company would have required consumers to use two separate websites and maintain two different accounts, a change that many were dissatisfied with. Consumer outrage at the plan from Qwikster was evident on Twitter, Facebook, and comments on Netflix’s blog that announced the changes.
Consumers’ comments ranged from expression of dissatisfaction to threats of cancelling their subscriptions. “I just got your email, and, as a long-time customer, quite frankly found it to be offensive. And perhaps a devastating miscalculation for your business,” one user, David Isaacson, commented – to 4764 likes – on Netflix’s blog.
Netflix users’ outrage was evidently the driving force behind the decision to maintain one website, and it points to the growing power of social media. With comments and Tweets, consumers are able to not only relate their desires and dislikes to companies, but also to hold them accountable.
The launch of Qwikster would have come not to eager anticipation but rather a barrage of criticism. Instead of launching an unsuccessful and unwanted service, the company was instead able to respond to consumer criticism and renege on its plans for a likely disastrous venture.
September 22, 2011 - originally published on PolicyMic
Last week, at the CNN Tea Party Express debate, Texas Gov. Rick Perry came under fire for his mandate as governor that required all girls and young women in Texas to be vaccinated against HPV, with Rep. Michele Bachmann (R–Minn.) exclaiming that “to have innocent little 12-year-old girls be forced to have a government injection through an executive order is just flat-out wrong.”
Ignoring Bachmann’s ill-informed tirade about side-effects of the vaccine and Perry’s connections with drug companies, the debate about the HPV vaccine that followed has raised an important question: Should governments be mandating the HPV vaccine? When considering the effects of HPV, how it has spread in the population, and the opt-out system proposed by Perry, the unequivocal answer to that question is yes – the government not only has the right to require that young women take the vaccine, it has a responsibility to do so as well.
In order to contextualize the debate, it is first necessary to understand how prevalent HPV is and why it is worth being vaccinated against.
HPV is widespread. According to the CDC, about 20 million Americans have HPV and another 6 million people will be newly infected each year, which, according to estimates means that about 50% of sexually active adults will be infected at some point in their lives. However, what’s problematic is not only that HPV is prevalent, but also that it causes an incredible 70% of all cervical cancer in the United States.
If HPV is indisputably bad, then why is there uproar against Perry’s plan to vaccinate young women?
One argument against the mandatory HPV vaccine follows the chain of reasoning that since HPV is a sexually transmitted infection, a mandatory vaccination against it would encourage young girls — the 12-year-olds that Perry’s plan would include — to be sexually active. While it is difficult to prove whether this claim would be true, it is reasonable to suggest that the possibility of contracting HPV in the future is not usually a factor that determines whether young people choose to be sexually active.
Further, and perhaps more importantly, the argument for mandatory vaccinations extends beyond the individual — the greater the proportion of the population that’s vaccinated, the lower the incidence of the infection. Therefore, mandatory vaccinations are a matter of public health, of reducing the number of people who carry and pass on the infection.
A second criticism of the mandatory vaccines from Bachmann and her supporters has been that the law infringes on parental rights, since the government is making the decision to vaccinate minors without parental consent.
However, in this particular case, parents did have a choice to opt-out of vaccinating their children. The benefit of the opt-out system is that while it enables parents to make a decision should they not want their children vaccinated, it also ensures that a majority of girls and young women are vaccinated; hence tackling the widespread incidence of the infection without denying parents their rights.
The question of mandating HPV vaccinations, then, is not one of parental rights or morality but one of public health. And Perry’s mandate was clearly in the interest of public health.
September 12, 2011 - originally published on PolicyMic
When most people in our generation think of Africa, two things come to mind: Bono and babies with distended bellies.
Our impressions of sub-Saharan Africa, influenced heavily by what we see on the news and the internet, focus almost entirely on, and often tie in, the issue of poverty — whether it is through a story on healthcare or one on education. The fact that Western media has reduced an entire continent to a single dimension is troubling not only because it is patronizing, but also because it is a simple misrepresentation of the region and its struggles.
Since coverage almost always boils down to poverty, sub-Saharan Africa has lost its dignity and become the beggar of the world in the West’s popular imagination.
This is not to say that poverty is not a legitimate concern. The famine in Somalia is certainly an issue. But it isn’t the only issue. The region is more than poverty — there is also politics and culture for the media to cover, with interesting and compelling issues ranging from rioting in Nigeria to Malawi’s exclusion from the All Africa Games.
One of the main issues with the narrow representation of Africa is that since the coverage tends to focus on the region’s lack of wealth, the plights of the area appear to be easy to fix simply if the West throws money at the region. The problem with this is that it does not accurately report the needs of the region. While our charity and aid money is useful in the short-term by feeding the hungry and medicating the sick, and while it eases our consciences, it does little to ensure sustainable long-term solutions to the problems plaguing the region.
The true struggles of the region, which academics suggest are tied to a bad habit of dependency on Western aid as well as corruption of leaders, are structural and institutional difficulties. It is not poverty, necessarily, that is problematic, but the inability of the government to help its citizens out of poverty. Not a lack of aid, but the lack of institutional accountability that keeps aid from reaching those who need it. So, it is only by looking beyond poverty that the media can present a more accurate picture of the region.
Even though it is evident that poverty is not the only African issue, the Western media’s oversimplification is understandable — poverty is easier to sell than something dull but accurate like institutional accountability or continuing coverage of conflicts to a war-weary audience. But making the region more multi-dimensional and less superficial by covering culture, innovation, and politics will help humanize Africa and make it seem less like a region defined and plagued only by poverty.
While the media might not necessarily be responsible for the fate and future of the region, it does have a duty to accurately represent the region and the situation as it stands. If we really care about learning about Africa, then we need to move beyond Bono’s concerts and Madonna’s baby from Malawi.
September 2011 - originally published on PolicyMic
With the cost of college skyrocketing and unemployment rates still dismal, the same question resonates on blogs, newspapers, and college campuses: Is a liberal arts education that doesn’t really prepare students for a specific job worth it?
Yes, it really is. It not only prepares students for future jobs, but also gives them much-needed flexibility with their future career choices.
The point of a college education — in an ideal world — is intellectual development. But let’s be honest, in reality, a college education is an investment, of up to hundreds of thousands of dollars at the most expensive universities, in the future. In the best of circumstances, the investment pays — and students are rewarded with good career opportunities, both after graduation and in the long-term.
Following this chain of logic, some argue that a system of vocational education is the best option because its sole purpose is to prepare students for jobs.
However, while vocational degrees prepare students for the future, liberal arts degrees do so better.
The most significant flaw of a vocational degree is that it is simply too limiting. It constricts young people to a single career from the day they enter college. Most people simply are not adequately equipped to choose a career path at 17, especially not an inflexible, lifelong career commitment.
But the merits of a liberal arts education do not simply rely on the fact that a vocational degree is the worse choice – there are compelling reasons to value a liberal arts degree for what it is.
The point of a liberal arts education is not to train historians, biologists, or economists, though it sometimes does. This education teaches students how to think. When students take physics classes alongside poetry classes, they are introduced to the various angles used to approach similar problems and given context that helps them approach challenges from beyond the limited perspective of their chosen vocation.
And when students solve problems, do labs, and write essays, they’re doing more than merely regurgitating subject-specific information. They’re learning how to think analytically and reason effectively. These skills are not subject specific – they can be used by an accountant, an administrator or a nurse alike.
And because these skills are important for most jobs and applicable to any career, they are reusable and transferable – not limiting students to a single field or career path throughout their lives. So even though a liberal arts degree might not provide a lawyer with the specific skills he needs for his job, it will give him skills that he can use when doing his job. In short, a liberal arts degree is an investment that pays no matter what path students choose in the future.
With a shift to vocational education, the U.S. would be producing college graduates who only know how to do their chosen jobs. The liberal arts education system, on the other hand, not only equips college graduates with skills that they can use regardless of their chosen fields; it also allows them flexibility in their career choices.
August 26, 2011 - originally published on PolicyMic.com
On Sunday Vice President Joe Biden included in his talk at China’s Sichuan University a characteristic blunder, saying, “Your policy has been one which I fully understand – I’m not second-guessing – of one child per family.”
The blunder has inevitably led to uproar, bringing much-needed attention to a Chinese policy that is deplorable not only because of the reprehensible restrictions that it imposes on Chinese women and families, but also because of the gender imbalance and unsustainable aging population that it has created.
The draconian one child policy was originally implemented by the Chinese government in 1979 in an attempt to curb the country’s worrying rate of population growth.
It is easy to understand the government’s legitimate fears of overpopulation and recognize the successes of this policy – accomplishments include preventing a 400 million increase in the population and, by proposing (or imposing) a preference for smaller families, the policy has also been recognized as preventing poverty.
While the policy has helped, its negative consequences far outweigh its benefits. Because while the one child policy aims to address important issues, the way in which it does this is problematic.
That the one child policy is, in Mitt Romney’s words, “gruesome and barbaric” is unquestionable; it is not the government’s place to deny women the right to plan families and impose blanket regulations on them. Further, it is not the government’s place to force sterilizations or compel women to have abortions – denying women fundamental rights.
While the issue of women’s rights is important, there are other considerable consequences of this badly planned policy.
Restricted to only one child and biased by a culture that favors baby boys to girls, many families have opted for gender-based abortions. This is problematic as it furthers a culture where a male child is preferred to a female child and also because it has created a significant gender imbalance in the population, where there are 119 boys born for every 100 girls, a situation that experts suggest will have dire implications in prostitution and sex-trafficking.
But China’s one-child troubles don’t stop there. Biden, after his gaffe, touched on another issue the country is facing as a result of its policy: an aging population. Young wage earners have now been left supporting an increasing number of retired people – often two parents and four grandparents to an individual. This is not just a matter of a large expense for the working-age population to shoulder, it’s an unsustainable situation.
While Biden’s faux pas was lamentable, it has brought media attention back to and re-ignited debate on an important issue. There’s still hope and lots of good reason for the Chinese government to revise its policy: in the name of human rights, social planning, or sustainable economics. There’s just too much wrong with the one child policy for the government to hold on to it.
August 9, 2011 - originally published on PolicyMic.com
The Obama administration recently announced a requirement for all health insurers to cover the costs of birth control with no co-pays. Unsurprisingly, this elicited a range of enraged responses — the most extreme of which came from Rep. Steve King (R–Iowa) who exclaimed that “preventing babies from being born is not medicine … that’s not constructive to our culture and our civilization. If we let our birth rate get down below replacement rate, we’re a dying civilization.”
The problem with far-flung conclusions like King’s is not only that they are founded on flawed logic and assumptions, but also that they detract attention from the real point: These new provisions are a big step in the right direction for our health care system.
To understand why free birth control is a good thing, it is first necessary to correctly understand what birth control does. It is preventative medicine — but unlike King’s suggestion — it is not intended to prevent new generations from being born. Instead, it prevents unplanned pregnancies, giving women the power to plan their families. It is as much an empowering tool as it is a preventative measure.
In aiding women in planning families, these new provisions will also help prevent women from turning to other more controversial family planning measures, namely abortion. People who don’t want babies often don’t have them, birth control or not. The simple conclusion, then, is that with greater access to birth control, women will have fewer unwanted pregnancies, which will in turn lower abortion rates. Thus, the birth control initiative is only a cheaper and healthier means to a similar end, which is surely a win-win situation, even for members of the pro-life camp.
But these recent provisions are not meaningful only because of the obvious benefits of birth control, but also because they’re paving the path to equality.
Perhaps the most significant consequence of the new provisions is that they will result in more socioeconomic equality in access to this fundamental health care benefit. Currently, buying birth control is expensive. It is not a one-time investment but often a recurring cost that women face. And to some, it’s an expense that they cannot cover, so they choose to forego additional payments, and with them, they forego precaution as well. Poverty should not be a barrier to equal access to essential health care services.
It is also worth noting that arguments about birth control often turn to moral reasoning, often asking: Is birth control a right? If not, how could our government possibly encourage all insurers to cover it? While a debate on the morality of birth control is interesting, it is not relevant here. The fact is that a majority of American women use birth control. So the relevant question is: Should the government be helping women with access to something they need and use?
The unequivocal answer is yes. It is evident that access to birth control is good for women. It is also evident that equality of access across socioeconomic groups to this measure is not only good but also a necessity.