African Countries Can’t Industrialise? Yes, They Can

Narratives are essential. Humans are, after all, “helpless story junkies”. Business and economic success depend much more than is commonly acknowledged on getting the narrative right. And if there is a narrative where getting it right or wrong matters hugely, it is the narrative about Africa’s industrial development. 

Africa is the poorest continent. It is likely to be the most affected by climate change. It is the continent where terrorist groups are spreading fast. 

Therefore, African industrialisation is essential. Unfortunately, the dominant narrative is that Africa has been de-industrialising, even prematurely. In this narrative, it is also questioned whether Africa can ever industrialise. African countries have even been advised not to try. The World Bank’s “Trouble in the Making”report concludes that manufacturing is becoming less relevant for low-income countries.

Fortunately, a very different narrative is possible. In a recent paper, I argue that Africa can industrialise because of three factors. These are “brilliant” new technologies enabling digitisation, smart materials and 3D-printing; a more vibrantentrepreneurship scene; and Africa’s growing middle class (as measured by the share of households that earn between $11 and $110 per person per day), which supports the continent’s first generation of indigenous tech-entrepreneurs.

Consider therefore the following narrative: More than 300digital platforms, mostly indigenous, are operating across the continent. There are also more than 400 high-tech hubs, and more are being added. In addition, venture capital funding into African tech start-ups increased ten-fold between 2012 and 2018. 

Moreover, manufacturing has more than doubled in size in real terms since 1980. And since 2000, manufacturing value added has grown at more than 4% a year. That is double the average between 1980 and 2000 (numbers from the Expanded African Sector Database). 

As a result, total employment in manufacturing in 18 of the largest African economies (for which there is data) grew from roughly 9 million in 2004 to more than 17 million by 2014. That is an 83% increase in ten years. The proportion of labour in manufacturing for Africa as a region grew from roughly 5% in the 1970s to almost 10% by 2008.

So, how will these trends shape the future? I argue that they will result in three varieties of industrialisation. 

Three varieties

The first variety can be labelled “acquiring traditional manufacturing capabilities”. This variety is implied by Overseas Development Institute researchers Karishma Banga and Dirk Willem te Velde. It will be experienced by countries and sectors where technological change is too fast and complex to benefit immediately. These countries and sectors will need time to first put complementary investments in place, while at the same time continuing to promote traditional labour-intensive manufacturing. 

The second variety, “fostering sectors with the characteristics of manufacturing”, is elaborated in a recent UNU-WIDER book. Here it is argued that service sectors can take up “the role held by manufacturing in the past”. In many countries, services such as ICT and telecoms, tourism and transport, financial and farming services can lead to productive development. 

The third variety, “resurgent entrepreneurship-led industrialisation” is based on my earlier work. I point to the growing list of achievements of African countries in terms of high-tech manufacturing. For example South Africa leads in advanced manufacturing in having one of the world’s largest 3D-printers, used to manufacture parts for the aviation industry. 

Different combinations of these varieties will dominate in different countries. For example, Kenya is already experiencing the simultaneous development of high-tech financial services alongside growth in traditional manufacturing, such as food processing and textiles, as well as clusters of advanced manufacturing. While every country’s pathway will be a unique combination of these varieties, what they will have in common is that progress will require that they deal with the impact of new technology, especially digitisation, on manufacturing. 

To ensure momentum is maintained, the narrative about industrialisation has to change. As Israeli historian Yuval Noah Harari pointed out, neither land – the core resource of feudalism – nor physical capital – the core resource of 20th-century capitalism – will be decisive for competitiveness in the future. Instead, data and data science, free information flows, ICT (data) skills, and decentralisation of decision-making will be the decisive factors. 

What needs to be done

With an outdated story that gives up on manufacturing, Africa will fail to close the huge digital gap it still faces. The gap is reflected in the fact the continent contributes less than 1% of world’s digital knowledge production. To reduce this gap, African countries will have to start by expanding internet access and use. If internet use across the continent can be expanded to the same rate as in high-income countries, 140 million new jobs and US$2,2 trillion could be added to GDP. 

What must be done to change the narrative? What do African governments need to do? The first is that its leaders need to start telling more stories about the future than about the past. Perhaps, like China’s leaders, they can even be inspired by science fiction. British best-selling author Neil Gaiman relates how China started to embrace science fiction after sending a delegation to 

“the US, to Apple, to Microsoft, to Google, and they asked the people there who were inventing the future about themselves. And they found that all of them had read science fiction when they were boys or girls.”

Helping to imagine the future of African industrialisation, South African President Cyril Ramaphosa recently stressed that fact that Africa is one of the early adopters of mobile telephony and moreover that the continent needs to aspire to more:

We need to focus on the new technologies that are going to revolutionise the world, and we need to be ahead of the curve.

This is the right narrative. It is necessary, although not sufficient for African industrialisation. For this, words need to lead to actions. And some consistent actions, at least for a start, would be for African governments to refrain from creating stumbling blocks for their brave new tech-entrepreneurs, such as curbing access to the internet, restricting digital information flows, under-investing in science, technology, engineering and mathematics education, neglecting data-privacy legislation, and restricting the rights of women to work in manufacturing.

Wim Naudé is a Professorial Fellow, Maastricht Economic and Social Research Institute on Innovation and Technology (UNU-MERIT), United Nations University

THIS ARTICLE WAS ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED ON THE CONVERSATION

In Hong Kong Protests, Technology Serves as a Tool of Both Expression and Repression

While activists have used the internet as a powerful organizing tool, web coverage on the Chinese mainland is defined by mass blackouts and systematic silencing.

Protesters in Hong Kong. Studio Incendo. CC BY 2.0

The most widely attended protest in recent American memory, the Women’s March, brought about 1 percent of the population onto the streets. Last month’s protests in Hong Kong brought 25 percent.

By any standards, the anti-extradition campaign in Hong Kong, spurred by a proposed China-backed amendment that would allow for the extradition of Hong Kongers to mainland China, was an astronomical success, engaging huge swathes of the population and eventually leading to the death of the proposal. Images of the demonstration depict unfathomable numbers of citizens exercising their right to peaceful protests, but something remains invisible in those photos: the constantly active, multilayered and multifaceted presence of the internet, which—through messaging apps, social media, and LIHKG (Hong Kong’s answer to Reddit)—allowed protestors to turn ideology into concrete action.

On June 12, the protest reached a milestone when tens of thousands of citizens surrounded the Hong Kong legislative building, spurring an initial suspension of the bill. In order to mobilize without attracting unwanted attention, activists created online events inviting people to a “picnic” in nearby Tamar Park, a cover-up for their actual intentions. Messaging services, too, helped with planning efforts. Particularly popular was the encrypted app Telegram—although the arrest of Ivan Ip for “conspiracy to commit a public nuisance” set efforts back, given that Ip was leading a group on the platform of 30,000 users. Still, Ip’s group was far from the only one: In a Baptist University poll of protestors, more than half of respondents reported using Telegram for broadcasting information and participating in discussion groups.

Protestors in the streets. Etan Liam. CC BY-ND 2.0

The survey also revealed the protestors’ widespread use of LIHKG, which lived up to its reputation of supporting free speech by subtly assisting activist efforts: Administrators removed ads from their site for about two weeks in June to shorten loading time and upped the number of replies allowed on some threads from 1,001 to 5,001, citing a need “for more convenient discussions.”

For protestors, the utility of social media and messaging platforms was far from over once planning progressed into action. During the demonstration on June 12, attendees broadcast real-time updates through countless Instagram stories and an hour-long livestream on the Twitter-owned service Periscope. In addition to spreading the word to Hong Kongers not attending the demonstration, protestors were able to communicate amongst themselves, using apps to request supplies, share the locations of food and water stations, and disseminate hand signals that would allow for discreet communication. Technical difficulties, however, thwarted efforts to some degree: Poor mobile signals made accessing the internet a challenge and threatened to spur chaos. “Without Telegram and WhatsApp, people did not know what they had to do,” Laura, 18, a student who volunteered as a first-aid staffer, told the South China Morning Post. 

Holding a sign that reads “kids are not rioters.” Etan Liam. CC BY-ND 2.0

Limited connectivity was not the only tech-related hurdle facing protesters. Tech-savvy activists cautioned against using public Wi-Fi or swiping their Octopus public transit card, actions that could put users at risk of having their personal information picked up and employed to incriminate them. And protestors made sure to turn off Face ID and fingerprint ID on their phones so that police could not unlock their devices without consent, as well as enabling encryption on apps where it was not already automatic.

Across the border in China, however, such internet-driven activism would have been impossible. Hong Kongers have the privilege of a much more open internet—a dichotomy that has manifested starkly in mainland media coverage of the protests. As part of the mass censorship and limited access that has long defined the Chinese internet and that is sometimes dubbed the “Great Firewall of China,” the Communist Party has enacted a total blackout on protest coverage in newspapers and on TV, with television screens simply going dark when foreign news outlets show images of the demonstrations. Video footage of Hong Kong Chief Executive Carrie Lam apologizing for her attempt to push through the extradition law never lasted long on social media, as censors would immediately delete the content each time it was reuploaded. And even a song that activists sang during the protests, “Can You Hear the People Sing” from “Les Miserables,” was inexplicably missing from QQ, a popular musical streaming site.

Protestors filled the streets on June 16. Etan Liam. CC BY-ND 2.0

On social media platforms like WeChat and Weibo, users devised strategies to get around the firewall, like distorting images of the protests or blocking parts of the image with giant smiley-face logos. In some cases, however, China’s tech power was simply too strong: Telegram reported on June 12 that it was experiencing a distributed denial of service (DDoS) attack, which means that a number of computers were attempting to overload its servers with bogus requests, resulting in service slowdowns or outages. Telegram’s CEO, Pavel Durov, said that the IP addresses behind the attack were coming mainly from China, potentially suggesting a concerted effort by authorities.

By systematically silencing the voices of activists, China is able to spread its own narrative of the protests, which it portrays as violent events provoked by foreign elements amining to undermine Hong Kong and the “one country, two systems” policy. The policy was formulated in the 1980s for the reunification of China by Paramount Leader of the People’s Republic of China Deng Xiaoping; in the interest of furthering Hong Kong’s status as a global financial center, it guarantees freedom of speech and protest for citizens. Yet Hong Kongers have long feared an erosion of their autonomy, a concern that most recently boiled over in the form of the 2014 Umbrella Movement, during which streets in the city’s business district were flooded by demonstrators for nearly three months. Throughout that time, mainland China busily erased all mention and images of the protests from its internet.

Protesters were unsatisfied by the original postponement of the bill. Etan Liam. CC BY-ND 2.0

On July 8, Lam publicly stated that the bill was finally dead, describing the proposed amendment as a “total failure.” Yet Hong Kongers were not entirely satisfied, as questions remain about whether Lam will officially withdraw the bill or whether it might be revived in future. Either way, the anti-extradition movement of 2019 will stand as a landmark protest for the digital age: one whose scale and power could have only coalesced in an era of instant connectivity, and one that throws into stark relief the power of technology—for expression and repression alike.

TALYA PHELPS hails from the wilds of upstate New York, but dreams of exploring the globe. As former editor-in-chief at the student newspaper of her alma mater, Vassar College, and the daughter of a journalist, she hopes to follow her passion for writing and editing for many years to come. Contact her if you're looking for a spirited debate on the merits of the em dash vs. the hyphen.

From North Carolina to Norway, Fossil Fuel Divestment Hits Headlines

Whether motivated by practical or ideological means, institutions around the world are pulling their finances out of oil, gas, and coal.

Divestment protest at Tufts University. James Ennis. CC BY 2.0

Upon receiving the news in 2017 that our planet is in the midst of its sixth mass extinction event, spurred partly by rampant climate change, stunned denizens of Earth everywhere struggled to process the implications and searched for concrete ways to mitigate the damage. In the months since, countless climate proposals have rolled out across the globe, and U.S. citizens have watched as 2020 presidential hopefuls laid out their plans—all while the current president decried the very existence of climate change. In the flurry of rhetoric and policy aimed at addressing the climate crisis, one strategy continues to hold strong: fossil fuel divestment, which has hit the headlines this summer with particular force.

On July 4—Independence Day in the United States—Britain’s largest membership organization declared independence from fossil fuel investments. The National Trust, which stewards 780 miles of coastline; 612,000 acres of land; and more than 500 historic houses, castles, monuments, and parks, announced that it would divest its £1 billion portfolio from fossil fuels in a bid to address the worsening climate crisis. 

Previously, the trust had invested £45 million into oil, gas, and mining companies, despite having made earlier pledges to cut down on its own use of fossil fuels. The vast majority of those investments will be withdrawn in the next 12 months, the trust promises, and 100 percent within three years. The freed-up funds will be diverted to alternative energy options: CFO Peter Vermeulen told The Guardian, “Now we will seek to invest in green startup businesses and other suitable portfolios that deliver benefits for the environment, nature and people.”

Fossil Free Freiburg divestment protest. 350.org. CC BY-NC-SA 2.0

Five hundred miles away in Norway, another high-profile institution is also preparing to drop fossil fuels: the Government Pension Fund Global (GPFG), which was founded in 1990 to oversee the integration of petroleum revenues into the national economy, and which invests in more than 9,000 companies worldwide, including Apple, Amazon, and Microsoft. On June 21, Norway’s parliament, the Storting, approved plans for the GPFG to divest more than $13 billion of the $1.06 trillion it manages from investments in oil, gas, and coal. The decision comes with some caveats: GPFG will only divest from companies that are exclusively involved with fossil fuels, but not oil companies that also have renewable energy units, such as BP and Royal Dutch Shell. And the fund maintains that financial considerations, not ideological ones, are behind the divestment, given the risk posed by fluctuations in oil prices. Nevertheless, environmental advocates can appreciate the fact that GPFG will earmark up to 2 percent of its funds—or about $20 billion—for investments in renewable energy.

In some cases, not only individual institutions are divesting, but also entire regions. At the beginning of June, the city council of Charlottesville, Va., voted 4-1 to divest the city’s operating budget investments from any entity involved with the production of fossil fuels or weapons. Supporters explain that the divestment—which will be carried out within 30 days of the decision—aligns with the city’s strategic plan goals, including being responsible stewards of natural resources. Charlottesville joins various other college towns across the United States, including Ann Arbor, Mich., and Berkeley, Calif., in pledging to divest.

At some universities, however, the prospect of divestment has long brewed controversy, which is coming to a head in light of the climate crisis. During Al Gore’s speech at Harvard University on May 29, the former vice president turned environmental activist called on his alma mater to divest, stating that climate change is “a threat to the survival of human civilization as we know it” and framing divestment as “a moral issue” for the university. In recent years, student activists at Harvard have ramped up demands on the school to divest, and the student newspaper reversed its formerly opposed position in May, acknowledging that Harvard’s reluctance to entertain the possibility of divestment “compromises its efforts to position itself as an academic institution at the forefront of the fight against climate change.” On the administrative side, more than 300 faculty members have signed a petition calling for divestment of fossil fuel stocks. Nevertheless, this number represents less than 14 percent of all faculty, and the university maintains the opinion that it should impact public policy through research rather than through its endowment.

Advocates for divestment at Harvard. victorgrigas. CC BY-SA 3.0

Across the country, 47 U.S. colleges and universities have chosen to divest, although the number has dropped off in recent years, with only 10 making the decision since 2017. Most recently, the Board of Trustees at the University of North Carolina, Asheville, voted on June 21 to divest a portion of their $50 million endowment from fossil fuels. The unanimous vote, which will make the Asheville campus the first in the UNC system to divest, builds on a resolution spearheaded by student activists. In concert with administration and the Board, these activists researched new funds in which the university could invest about 10 percent of its capital, eventually landing on Walden Asset Management, which focuses on investing using environmental, social, and governance criteria.

Botanical gardens at Asheville. David441491. CC BY-NC-ND 2.0

Meanwhile, earlier this month, the University of California—another sprawling and well-regarded state university system—saw 77 percent of its voting faculty agree “to divest the university’s endowment portfolio of all investments in the 200 publicly-traded fossil fuel companies with the largest carbon reserves.” The decision is now in the hands of the University Regents. Should the Regents choose to divest, the news would make waves on the national level due to U Cal’s significant size and prestige—and in the fight against fossil fuels, ideological statements, even if they have negligible bearing on the industry’s financial resources, are of the utmost importance.

Individuals in academic circles, therefore, are beginning to take their own stands to support divestment. In a piece for the Chronicle of Higher Education, climate activists Christiana Figueres and Bill McKibben explain that they have begun refusing to accept honorary degrees from colleges that have not divested, writing, “[e]ach of us has already turned down these honors at institutions that remain committed to coal, gas, and oil.” Meanwhile, members of the younger generation are also weighing in—such as Jamie Margolin, a rising high school senior and prominent environmental activist with more than 11,000 Twitter followers. In a piece for Teen Vogue last month, Margolin wrote, “I have serious concerns about how my future school might be investing in fossil fuels and, if they can’t be convinced to divest by student activists like me, how that might render my college education useless.” From Norway to Britain to Asheville to Cambridge, from Ivy-educated vice presidents to those still awaiting their high school degrees, the world is beginning to agree that taking action is not optional.

TALYA PHELPS hails from the wilds of upstate New York, but dreams of exploring the globe. As former editor-in-chief at the student newspaper of her alma mater, Vassar College, and the daughter of a journalist, she hopes to follow her passion for writing and editing for many years to come. Contact her if you're looking for a spirited debate on the merits of the em dash vs. the hyphen.

Blue Out on Insta

Blue Out on Instagram: Support for Sudan through Social Media Awareness

Sudan Flag Sticker on a Car. pjbury. CC BY-NC-ND 2.0

Recently, a specific shade of blue has been popping up around Instagram in the form of profile pictures. This Blue Out was started by Instagram influencer Shahd (@hadyouatsalaam). She is a Sudanese-born, New York City-based activist—or how she likes to identify herself, “a political scientist by degree and a social media influencer by interest”, according to her recent Insta post, introducing herself to her new followers. 

Shahd created this movement for the sole purpose of raising awareness to what is currently going on in Sudan. Protests in Sudan began in December of last year, when there was a price-spike in basic commodities (i.e. bread). It was not until April 11th, after a mass, multi-day sit-in, that the Sudanese people did see the change they wished for. The current President, a man named Omar al-Bashir, and his party were being jailed or put on house arrest. The protestors believed this to be a victory. They were wrong. General Awad Ibn Auf, the Vice President, soon gave a televised statement explaining the new governmental system that was going to be put in place—one run by three separate military factions called the Transitional Military Council (TMC). He stated that they intended to remain in power for two years until the country could elect a new President, also claiming a three-month state of emergency and curfew. The people did not accept these conditions and in under 24 hours, Ibn Auf resigned and General Abdelfattah al-Burhaan become the new chairman.

Since General Abdelfattah al-Burhaan’s new appointment, negotiations between the people and the TMC have been chaotic. Once again being fed up, the Sudaneese people, with the people of the Sudanese Professionals Association (SPA), organized a mass strike from the 28th of May to the 29th. These strikes immediately became violent and the TMC used these mass demonstrations to portray the SPA in a vicious light. On June 3rd, government forces began shooting at the protestors which, reportedly, left 118 dead and many more injured. Since then, an Internet black out has been in place and thus sparked social media outcry.

But why should this matter to us? The answer is simple: because we have the power and the privilege of accessing the Internet with the capable means of shouting loud enough that somebody will listen. Over the past two weeks, because of the uproar on social media, there have been an influx of articles written about what is going on, how long it has been going on, what is the important information that we need to know about the revolution in Sudan. One Instagram user, Rachek Cargle (@rachel,cargle), with the help of “an incredible group of activists” has even composed a masterlist of articles ranging from immediate updates to fundraising efforts, according to her post that calls for any more information to add. 

Unfortunately, with the uproar, there have also been people who cruelly want to capitalize on the movement for clout reasons. Just last week, a post went viral that claimed for every re-post to a page or story, the originators of the account would donate meals to the Sudanese people. Very soon, the page was labeled as a hoax given curious peoples’ inquiries into how they would provide the food, where is the funding coming from, and other questions which the page either did not answer or gave vague responses to. From these instances, it is important to remember that when trying to get information out, there needs to be a more thorough and conscious effort on the part of other social media users to not just mindlessly click-and-post, but rather, do a quick search about what the post is, and then determine whether or not it is legitimate. 

Using the privilege we have—whether it be from simply having the means to repost an article or getting in contact with local government officials so they can talk about what is going on—is a butterfly-effect that will change how the Sudanese revolution will go. Being complacent or a bystander is just as harmful as supporting the violence because inaction is not action, inaction does not bring about change but lets things remain as they are, because they are not directly affecting us. I encourage those of you reading this article to look at the Instagram influencers I have mentioned as well as the hashtag #Iamsudanrevolution. There you will find countless posts, articles, links, and organizations that can inform you, help you, and guide you on how you can help. For immediate action, check out Cargle’s post which is a picture of protestors with SUDAN in bold, blue letters and the subtitle of Information & Support Round Up. There you will find the link to the master document which will provide the beginning of any information you want to know. 

I must repeat—acting as a bystander perpetuates the actions that are harming individuals because it is neglecting them the action they need. Use your privilege for something productive. 

OLIVIA HAMMOND is an undergraduate at Emerson College in Boston, Massachusetts. She studies Creative Writing, with minors in Sociology/Anthropology and Marketing. She has travelled to seven different countries, most recently studying abroad this past summer in the Netherlands. She has a passion for words, traveling, and learning in any form. 

Palestinians Protest Puma

Palestinian activists, organized by the Palestinian Campaign for the Academic and Cultural Boycott of Israel (PACBL), protested and boycotted German athletics company Puma the weekend of June 15. They targeted stores in 15 different countries as a way of spreading information about the boycott. As of last year, Puma began sponsoring the Israeli Football Association (IFA). The IFA hosts games in Israeli settlements held on traditional Palestinian land. This is in violation of both international law and FIFA (football’s governing body) rules. The protesters feel that Puma is profiting off this situation, as well as normalizing it for the rest of the world.

Six teams play in this section of the West Bank. In 2018, Puma began sponsoring the IFA as part of a 4-year deal to provide equipment, including kits, for Israel’s national football teams. Adidas had been the IFA’s sponsor for the last 10 years, until they ended their sponsorship over a similar boycott campaign in July 2018.

In December 2016, the UN Security Council reaffirmed the position that Israeli settlements in Palestinian territories are a violation of international law. In 1961, FIFA suspended apartheid-laden South Africa, but has said little about Israel and Palestine’s current problem. The Palestinian Football Association (PFA) called for a vote on Israel’s FIFA membership in 2014 and 2015, but ultimately backed down both times. In June 2019, FIFA’s Ethics Committee launched an investigation in PFA President Jibril Rajoub regarding statements and actions against Israel.

PACBL appealed to both Puma and Adidas on the basis of social justice. Puma launched a social justice campaign called #REFORM last year, inspired by American sprinter Tommie Smith, who raised his fist at the 1968 Olympic games in protest of racism. However, according to the Palestinian protesters, this hypocrisy in regards to justice shows that money is still the ultimate factor with sports sponsorships. There is always an element of calculation as to how beneficial the social justice commitment will be.

Ultimately, Puma’s decision—regardless of the protests—will come down to reputation. Meanwhile, the protests and boycott against Puma are supported by over 200 Palestinian sports associations and clubs, as well as prominent Palestinian athletes such as Aya Khattab, who is on the women’s national football team.

Mahmoud Sarsk, a Palestinian footballer who used to play on the national team, said, “Endless restrictions on freedom of movement, access to resources and fundamental civil liberties make engaging in sport a constant struggle for Palestinians—these violations of rights are totally incompatible with the principle of sport being accessible to all,” according to Aljazeera. Sarsk was imprisoned for three years by Israeli authorities without charges or a trial. This ended his career as a professional player.

In a statement last year, Adidas said they ended their sponsorship of the IFA for political reasons, as they upheld human rights and agreed with FIFA that a decision needed to be made regarding the state of the settlements. The protest included complaints from over 130 Palestinian football clubs, according to the Palestine Chronicle. Regardless, it was claimed afterwards that Adidas ended the sponsorship for non-political reasons, particularly since the sponsorship term was ending

The Boycott, Divestment, and Sanctions movement (BCD) is a Palestinian-led organization with a larger sports component, which is what the Puma boycott is part of. The sports component has been steadily growing since 2011.

The international response has also been growing. According to Mondoweiss, in February 2017 six NFL players withdrew from a PR trip to Israel, which serves as a prominent win for the BDS movement. Argentina also called off a friendly match with an Israeli team in Jerusalem last June. 

FIFA’s response has been lacking, but the international disdain has made it clear that Israel may soon start to run out of sponsors for its sports teams if something is not done about the settlements held on Palestinian land that violate International Law.

NOEMI ARELLANO-SUMMER is a journalist and writer living in Boston, MA. She is a voracious reader and has a fondness for history and art. She is currently at work on her first novel and wants to eventually take a trip across Europe.

5 Social Action Songs about the Most Pressing Issues of 2019

Musicians Use Their Lyrics as Calls to Action

John Legend, singer of “Preach.” Lauren Monaco. CC 2.0.

Throughout the ages, some musicians have used their song lyrics as a tool to impart their political, social, and spiritual beliefs. Musicians have a unique opportunity to reach audiences with their words because unlike politicians and speechmakers or television, radio, or published personalities, musicians have their words sung over and over again by their audience. Their words—and subsequently, their ideas—are repeated with a catchy tune, until they are ingrained in the memories of their listeners.

Think about how John Lennon’s 1971 piece, “Imagine”, or Bob Marley’s 1973 hit “Get Up, Stand Up,” are still being played on the radio, and on playlists, for over 40 years. Their messages live on, even after they have both passed away.

In 2019, there is still much to protest and sing about. Musicians are still taking advantage of their platform to write and produce songs with a mission, or a call to action. Here are some powerful songs written in 2019 by famous musicians:

Madonna, “I Rise”

Madonna makes a statement about protest and gun control in her new single, “I Rise.” The song opens with a clip from a speech that Emma Gonzalez delivered to a gun control rally in Fort Lauderdale, Florida in 2018. Gonzalez became an advocate for gun control after surviving the Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School shooting in 2018.

In her song, Madonna encourages her audience to act like Gonzalez, and “Rise,” in the face of adversity. She sings, “There's nothing you can do to me that hasn't been done

Not bulletproof, shouldn't have to run from a gun.” She recognizes as humans, we are vulnerable, but we also have the power to take action as a group. This is demonstrated by her switch from “I Rise,” to “We Rise,” at the end of her song.

The Killers, “Land of the Free”

In “Land of the Free” The Killers make a scathing critique of American society. Their music video contains clips of migrants trying to cross the border from Mexico to the United States. The video does not omit the barbed wire, security guards, and fences that will greet them. The Killers sing, “Down at the border, they're gonna put up a wall, Concrete and Rebar Steel beams (I'm standing crying), High enough to keep all those filthy hands off, Of our hopes and our dreams (I'm standing crying),People who just want the same things we do, In the land of the free.”

Like Madonna, The Killers also mention gun control. “So how many daughters, tell me, how many sons, Do we have to have to put in the ground, Before we just break down and face it

We got a problem with guns? (Oh oh oh oh), In the land of the free.” They also bring up race and privilege, “ When I go out in my car, I don't think twice, But if you're the wrong color skin (I'm standing, crying), You grow up looking over both your shoulders.”

The Killers are holding up a mirror to their audience and asking them: Is America really the land of the free and home of the brave? How can we change?

John Legend, “Preach”

Ironically, in “Preach,” John Legend sings about how it’s not enough to simply write songs, speak out, or “preach” to an audience. It is more important to take action when things are wrong in society.

He sings, “Every day I wake and, Everything is broken, Turning off my phone just to get out of bed. Get home every evening, And history’s repeating, Turning off my phone cuz it’s hurting my chest.” His music video features clips of police brutality against African Americans, and violence at the border with Mexico, as issues that deeply hurt him.

Yet, Legend knows that action speaks louder than words. “I can’t just preach, baby, preach. And heaven knows I’m not helpless, What can I do? Can’t see the use in me crying

If I’m not even trying to make the change I wanna see.”

Fever 333, “One of Us”

In “One of Us,” rock band Fever 333’s rage is contagious. They are angry about the state of society today. They sing about the people in power, “They gotta isolate, they gotta segregate this. Just to keep us down, to keep us broken down.”

Instead of breaking down under oppression, Fever 333 sends the message that we are all united in taking responsibility for change. In their music video, the band marches on the street among protesters for many types of causes—from environmental, to social.

They scream at their listeners, as a wake up call, to “Stand up or die on your knees.” If we don’t stand up for ourselves, nobody else will.

Yungblud, “Parents”

The desperation and pessimism at an out-of-touch leadership is palpable in Yungblud’s “Parents.” He writes about he, and people in the LGBTQ communtiy suffer at the hands of intolerant and closed-minded people.  He sings, “My daddy put a gun to my head

Said if you kiss a boy, I'm gonna shoot you dead. “

Even though Yungblud’s “high hopes are getting low,” he sings, “I'll never be alone

It's alright, we'll survive. 'Cause parents ain't always right.” Yungblud is hopeful in a new generation of ally leaders.

In 2019, just as in the past, artists continue to try and inspire change, action, and introspection through their words. Who knows which activists and movements they will inspire?

ELIANA DOFT loves to write, travel, and volunteer. She is especially excited by opportunities to combine these three passions through writing about social action travel experiences. She is an avid reader, a licensed scuba diver, and a self-proclaimed cold brew connoisseur. 

Ugandan Nuns Protest Trafficking, Seeing it as an Extension of the Slave Trade

Ugandan nuns are protesting human trafficking as part of the 6,000 member organization Association of the Religious in Uganda. They understand trafficking to be a basic human rights and dignity issue, seeing it as an extension of the slave trade. Their inspiration to fight the issue comes from a variety of sources including Biblical stories, African proverbs, Scripture, and the lives of the saints, notably St. Catherine of Siena, who said that silence kills the world. Groups of nuns have met with government representatives to implore them to combat the issue further.

At a three-day workshop in November 2018 organized by the Africa Faith and Justice Network, nuns examined the global issues facing Africa today, as well as the effects that the centuries of the slave trade have had upon the continent. The issue of human trafficking was seen in a much harsher light following that discussion, as the Africans participating in trafficking are essentially perpetuating the slave trade.

After the workshop, 32 nuns visited the Ministries of Internal Affairs; Foreign Affairs; Gender, Labour and Social Development; and the Uganda Human Rights Commission. These are departments that deal with travel outside Uganda, labor organizations, and citizens’ human rights.

The speaker of the Parliament of Uganda, Rebecca Kadaga, met with 13 Association-affiliated nuns after they petitioned her against abroad workers’ cases of slavery and torture. She said that she blames members of government for faltering on the issue. “Unfortunately, a number of people in government own labour export companies and I am told it is very lucrative so they continued,” Kadaga said, according to the Daily Monitor. Some of the workers who go abroad don’t come back. The nuns are also requesting that the government at least halt the employment of girls, because they are common targets for trafficking and sexual abuse. They also asked for law changes via harsher penalties for those caught trafficking.

"Human trafficking is dehumanising. It exposes our sisters and brothers to untold torture, sexual abuse and slavery. Some of our daughters are trafficked abroad and forced to have sexual intercourse with animals, while some are killed for organ transplant. For those lucky to return home, the trauma they have suffered incapacitates them and makes them social misfits," Sister Teresa Namataka, from Kenya, was quoted as saying in AllAfrica.

In all the meetings, a common point was expressed: a need for collaboration in fighting human trafficking. The nuns made a statement and called for a press conference, both of which caused the fight to gain more media attention. The nuns are currently working on setting up a joint meeting between stakeholders and collaborators to search for a way forward out of this human rights and dignity tragedy.

The religious international anti-trafficking organization Talitha Kum celebrates its 10th anniversary this year, and also recently launched the Nuns Healing Hearts campaign, beginning with a photography exhibition documenting the work the organization does around the world to combat trafficking.

Other issues facing Africa today include the devaluation of currency, as well as the adverse effects of globalization. Those are particularly felt through the destruction of local economies by the buildup of discarded objects like computers and refrigerators and the importation of poisonous objects. Africa has many social ills, but the nuns are starting with human trafficking, seeing it as the most alarming.

NOEMI ARELLANO-SUMMER is a journalist and writer living in Boston, MA. She is a voracious reader and has a fondness for history and art. She is currently at work on her first novel and wants to eventually take a trip across Europe.

New Zealand’s “Headscarf for Harmony” Effort

Women wear headscarves to stand in solidarity with New Zealand Muslim community.

Photo of headscarves by 𝚂𝚒𝚘𝚛𝚊 𝙿𝚑𝚘𝚝𝚘𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚙𝚑𝚢 on Unsplash

This week, women in New Zealand are wearing hijabs to stand in solidarity with the Muslim community following the shooting of 50 people at two mosques in Christchurch.

The effort, called “Headscarf for Harmony”, was created by Auckland doctor Thaya Ashman. After hearing a Muslim woman say that she was afraid to leave her house wearing a hijab, Ashman wanted a way to show her support and solidarity. “I wanted to say: We are with you, we want you to feel at home on your own streets, we love, support and respect you,” she told Reuters.

Ashman spoke with the Islamic Women’s Council of New Zealand and the Muslim Association of New Zealand before putting the effort into action. She told the New Zealand Herald that she used the word headscarf instead of hijab to recognize the cultural difference present for non-Muslims.

The Headscarf for Harmony hashtag continues to spread across social media. where New Zealanders are posting pictures of themselves in headscarves accompanied by captions offering their support for the Muslim community.

"These people are New Zealanders, just like I am,” twenty four-year-old Cherie Hailwood told CNN. “I understand that one day is very different to wearing it all the time, but I am honored to be given the permission of the Muslim community to walk in their shoes. Even just for a day.”

Prime Minister Jacinda Ardern wore a black headscarf when meeting with members of the Muslim community. Even news anchors and reporters joined the effort, wearing headscarves on live television. At an open prayer at the Al Noor mosque where the attack had taken place, New Zealand women wore head scarves as a gesture of respect and solidarity.

“Being a Muslim, I’m overwhelmed,” one man tweeted, “I have never seen this kind of solidarity in my entire life—the vigils, the Haka performances, the scarves. It’s just amazing and heartwarming.”

Not all supported the effort. On Stuff.co.nz a Muslim woman published an unsigned article saying that while the movement may mean well, it is no more than “cheap tokenism”.

She wrote that the effort, “stinks of white savior mentality, where Muslim women need to be rescued by (largely) white folk. This type of ideology plays a part in the pyramid of white supremacy and must be acknowledged so people can stop virtue signaling and understand the impact of their actions.”

She went on to say that the attack, “was not just about Muslims, it was against any person of colour in a 'white' country so this focus on hijabs is derailing the examination of white supremacy, systematic racism, orientalism and bigotry. We don't want to be turned into a caricature.”

EMMA BRUCE is an undergraduate student studying English and marketing at Emerson College in Boston. While not writing she explores the nearest museums, reads poetry, and takes classes at her local dance studio. She is passionate about sustainable travel and can't wait to see where life will take her.

Fighting to End Child Marriage in Lebanon

Ghassan Idriss knows firsthand the harmful effects of child marriage on society. Having married at a young age to a woman even younger than himself, Idriss and his wife faced struggles that so many other couples in his home country of Lebanon grapple with. Now, with three daughters of his own, Idriss is doing everything he can to educate those around him about the dangers of this antiquated institution. By hosting talks, he’s using his voice to spark change within his community.

America’s Public Schools Seldom Bring Rich and Poor Together – and MLK Would Disapprove

Five decades after the assassination of Martin Luther King Jr., many carry on his legacy through the struggle for racially integrated schools. Yet as King put it in a 1968 speech, the deeper struggle was “for genuine equality, which means economic equality.” Justice in education would demand not just racially integrated schools, but also economically integrated schools.

The fight for racial integration meant overturning state laws and a century of history – it was an uphill battle from the start. But economic integration should have been easier. In the mid-18th century, when education reformers first made the case for inclusive and taxpayer-supported education, they argued that “common schools” would ease the class differences between children from different backgrounds.

As Horace Mann, the most prominent of these reformers, argued in 1848, such schools would serve to counter the “domination of capital and the servility of labor.” Learning together on common ground, rich and poor would see themselves in common cause – a necessity for the survival of the republic.

More than 150 years later, the nation has yet to realize this vision. In fact, it has been largely forgotten. Modern Americans regularly scrutinize the aims and intentions of the Founding Fathers; but the early designs for public education – outlined by Mann, the first secretary of education in Massachusetts, as well as by leaders like Henry Barnard, Thaddeus Stevens, and Caleb Mills – are mostly overlooked. Today, the average low-income student in the U.S. attends a school where two-thirds of students are poor. Nearly half of low-income students attend schools with poverty rates of 75 percent or higher.

Education historians, like myself, have generally focused their research and attention on racial segregation, rather than on economic segregation. But as income inequality continues to deepen, the aim of economically integrated schools has never been more relevant. If we are concerned with justice, we must revitalize this original vision of public education.

Shared community

Early advocates of taxpayer-supported common schools argued that public education would promote integration across social classes. They thought it would instill a spirit of shared community and open what Horace Mann called “a wider area over which the social feelings will expand.”

Horace Mann (1796-1859) was an early advocate of public education in the U.S. Fotolia/AP

And, generally speaking, it worked. The ultra-rich mostly continued to send their children to private academies. But many middle- and upper-income households began to send their children to public schools. As historians have shown, economically segregated schools did not systematically emerge until the mid-20th century, as a product of exclusionary zoning and discriminatory housing policies. Schools weren’t perfectly integrated by any means, particularly with regard to race. They were, however, vital sites of cross-class interaction.

Many prominent Americans – including U.S. presidents – were products of the public schools. Commonly, they sat side by side in classrooms with people from different walks of life.

But over the past half-century, students have been increasingly likely to go to school with students from similar socioeconomic backgrounds. Since 1970, residential segregation has increased sharply, with twice as many families now living in either rich or poor neighborhoods – a trend that has been particularly acute in urban areas. And segregation by income is most extreme among families with school-age children. Poor children are increasingly likely to go to school with poor children. Similar economic isolation is true of the middle and affluent classes.

Contemporary Americans commonly accept that their schools will be segregated by social class. Yet the architects of American public education would have viewed such an outcome as a catastrophe. In fact, they might attribute growing economic inequality to the systematic separation of rich and poor. As Horace Mann argued, it was the core mission of public schools to bring different young people together – to consider not just “what one individual or family needs,” but rather “what the whole community needs.”

Many parents do continue seek out diverse schools. A number of school districts have worked to devise student assignment plans that advance the aim of integration. And some charter schools are reaching this market by pursuing what has been called a “diverse-by-design” strategy. As demonstrated by research, diverse schools can and often do improve achievement across a range of social and cognitive outcomes, such as critical thinking, empathy and open-mindedness.

Largely overlooked, however, has been the political benefit of integrated schools. One rarely encounters the once-common argument that the health of American democracy depends on rich and poor attending school together. This is particularly surprising in an age of tremendous disparities in wealth and power. Members of Congress, on average, are 12 times wealthier than the typical American. Moreover, lawmakers are increasingly responsive to the privileged, even at the expense of middle-class voters.

If elites are isolated from their lower- and middle-income peers, they may be less likely to see a relationship of mutual commitment and responsibility to those of lesser means. As scholars Kendra Bischoff and Sean F. Reardon have argued, “If socioeconomic segregation means that more advantaged families do not share social environments and public institutions such as schools, public services, and parks with low-income families, advantaged families may hold back their support for investments in shared resources.”

What can be done?

Today more than 100 school districts or charter school chains work to integrate schools economically. Cambridge, Massachusetts, for instance, has four decades of experience balancing enrollments by social class, seeking to match the diversity of the city as a whole in each school.

This, of course, is only possible in a diverse place. Median family income in Cambridge is roughly US$100,000, while 15 percent of city residents live below the poverty line. It is also made possible through heavy investments in public education in the city. After all, it is far easier to convince middle-class and affluent parents to send their children to the public schools when per-pupil expenditures rival the highest-spending suburbs, as they do in Cambridge.

But not every district has Cambridge’s advantages. Nor does every district have similar political will.

The latter of those two constraints, however, may soon begin to change. Faced with a growing divide between rich and poor, Americans may begin to demand schools that not only serve young people equally from a funding standpoint, but also educate them together in the same classrooms.

Common schools by themselves are not enough to solve the problem of economic inequality. Yet if Americans seek to create a society in which the rich and the poor see themselves in common cause, common schools may be a necessary – and long overdue – step. We must come to see, in the words of Martin Luther King, that, “We are caught in an inescapable network of mutuality, tied in a single garment of destiny.”

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Jack Schneider is an Assistant Professor of Education at the University of Massachusetts Lowell.

THIS ARTICLE WAS ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED ON THE CONVERSATION

Japan’s Gender-Bending History

I’m an anthropologist who grew up in Japan and has lived there, off and on, for 22 years. Yet every visit to Tokyo’s Harajuku District still surprises me. In the eye-catching styles modeled by fashion-conscious young adults, there’s a kind of street theater, with crowded alleyways serving as catwalks for teenagers peacocking colorful, inventive outfits.

Boutiques are filled with cosmetics and beauty products intended for both males and females, and it’s often difficult to discern the gender of passersby. Since a gendered appearance (“feminine” or “masculine”) often (but not always) denotes the sex of a person, Japan’s recent “genderless” fashion styles might confuse some visitors – was that person who just walked by a woman or a man?

Although the gender-bending look appeals equally to young Japanese women and men, the media have tended to focus on the young men who wear makeup, color and coif their hair and model androgynous outfits. In interviews, these genderless males insist that they are neither trying to pass as women nor are they (necessarily) gay.

Some who document today’s genderless look in Japan tend to treat it as if it were a contemporary phenomenon. However, they conveniently ignore the long history in Japan of blurred sexualities and gender-bending practices.

Sex without sexuality

In premodern Japan, aristocrats often pursued male and female lovers; their sexual trysts were the stuff of classical literature. To them, the biological sex of their pursuits was often less important than the objective: transcendent beauty. And while many samurai and shoguns had a primary wife for the purposes of procreation and political alliances, they enjoyed numerous liaisons with younger male lovers.

Only after the formation of a modern army in the late-19th century were the sort of same-sex acts central to the samurai ethos discouraged. For a decade, from 1872 to 1882, sodomy among men was even criminalized. However, since then, there have been no laws in Japan banning homosexual relations.

It’s important to note that, until very recently, sexual acts in Japan were not linked to sexual identity. In other words, men who had sex with men and women who had sex with women did not consider themselves gay or lesbian. Sexual orientation was neither political nor politicized in Japan until recently, when a gay identity emerged in the context of HIV/AIDS activism in the 1990s. Today, there are annual gay pride parades in major cities like Tokyo and Osaka.

In Japan, same-sex relations among children and adolescents have long been thought of as a normal phase of development, even today. From a cultural standpoint, it’s frowned upon only when it interferes with marriage and preserving a family’s lineage. For this reason, many people will have same-sex relationships while they’re young, then get married and have kids. And some even later resume having same-sex relationships after fulfilling these social obligations.

Contentious cross-dressing

Like same-sex relationships, cross-dressing has a long history in Japan. The earliest written records date to the eighth century and include stories about women who dressed as warriors. In premodern Japan, there were also cases of women passing as men either to reject the prescribed confines of femininity or to find employment in trades dominated by men.

‘Modern girls’ (‘moga’) stroll along the Ginza, Japan’s Fifth Avenue, in 1928. Wikimedia Commons

A century ago, “modern girls” (moga) were young women who sported short hair and trousers. They attracted media attention – mostly negative – although artists depicted them as fashion icons. Some hecklers called them “garçons” (garuson), an insult implying unfeminine and unattractive.

Gender, at that time, was thought of in zero-sum terms: If females were becoming more masculine, it meant that males were becoming feminized.

These concerns made their way into the theater. For example, the all-female Takarazuka Revue was an avant-garde theater founded in 1913 (and is still very popular today). Females play the parts of men, which, in the early 20th century, sparked heated debates (that continue today) about “masculinized” women on stage – and how this might influence women off the stage.

However, today’s genderless males aren’t simply weekend cross-dressers. Instead, they want to shatter the existing norms that say men must dress and present themselves a certain way.

They ask: Why should only girls and women be able to wear skirts and dresses? Why should only women be able to wear lipstick and eye shadow? If women can wear pants, why shouldn’t men be able to wear skirts?

Actually, the adjective “genderless” is misleading, since these young men aren’t genderless at all; rather, they’re claiming both femininity and masculinity as styles they wear in their daily lives.

In this regard, these so-called genderless men have historical counterparts: In the late 19th and early 20th centuries, cosmopolitan “high collar” men (haikara) wore facial powder and carried scented handkerchiefs, paying meticulous attention to their Westernized appearances. One critic – invoking the zero-sum gender attitudes of the era – complained that “some men toil over their makeup more than women.” Conservative pundits derided the haikara as “effeminate” by virtue of their “un-Japanese” style.

On the other end of the masculinity spectrum were the nationalistic “primitive” men (bankara) who wore wooden clogs (geta) to complement their military-style school uniforms. Ironically, like their samurai predecessors – and unlike the foppish haikara – the macho bankara would engage in same-sex acts.

Japan’s ‘beautiful youths’

Probably the biggest contemporary inspiration for today’s genderless males are a spate of popular androgynous boy bands. Cultivated and promoted by Johnny & Associates Entertainment Company, Japan’s largest male talent agency, they include boy bands like SMAP, Johnny’s West and Sexy Zone.

Johnny’s West performs their song ‘Summer Dreamer.’

There’s a term for the type of teenage boy that Johnny & Associates cultivates: “beautiful youths” (bishōnen), which was coined a century ago to describe a young man whose ambiguous gender and sexual orientation appealed to females and males of all ages.

Similarly, Visual Kei is a 1980s glam-rock and punk music genre that features bishōnen performers who don flamboyant, gender-bending costumes and hairdos. In its new, 21st-century incarnation as Neo-Visual Kei, the emphasis on androgyny is even more pronounced, as epitomized by the prolific career of the androgynous Neo-Visual Kei pop star Gackt, who enjoys an international fan following.

Since the word “genderless” is misleading, a better term might be “gender-more,” in the sense that young men – especially in Tokyo – are insisting on the right to present and express themselves in ways that contradict and exceed traditional masculinity. In the long span of Japanese cultural history, there have been many things that were – and are – new under the sun. But genderless males aren’t among them.

JENNIFER ROBERTSON is a Professor of Anthropology and Art History at the University of Michigan.

THIS ARTICLE WAS ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED ON THE CONVERSATION

Why Bigotry is a Public Health Problem

Over a decade ago, I wrote a piece for a psychiatric journal entitled “Is Bigotry a Mental Illness?” At the time, some psychiatrists were advocating making “pathological bigotry” or pathological bias – essentially, bias so extreme it interferes with daily function and reaches near-delusional proportions – an official psychiatric diagnosis. For a variety of medical and scientific reasons, I wound up opposing that position.

In brief, my reasoning was this: Some bigots suffer from mental illness, and some persons with mental illness exhibit bigotry – but that doesn’t mean that bigotry per se is an illness.

Yet in the past few weeks, in light of the hatred and bigotry the nation has witnessed, I have been reconsidering the matter. I’m still not convinced that bigotry is a discrete illness or disease, at least in the medical sense. But I do think there are good reasons to treat bigotry as a public health problem. This means that some of the approaches we take toward controlling the spread of disease may be applicable to pathological bigotry: for example, by promoting self-awareness of bigotry and its adverse health consequences.

In a recent piece in The New York Times, health care writer Kevin Sack referred to the “virulent anti-Semite” who carried out the horrific shootings at the Tree of Life synagogue in Pittsburgh on Oct. 27, 2018.

It’s easy to dismiss the term “virulent” as merely metaphorical, but I think the issue is more complicated than that. In biology, “virulence” refers to the degree of pathology, or damage, caused by an organism. It differs from the term “contagious,” which refers to a disease’s communicability. But what if, in an important sense, bigotry is both virulent and contagious – that is, capable of both causing damage and spreading from person to person? Wouldn’t a public health approach to the problem make sense?

The harm to victims and to haters

There is little question among mental health professionals that bigotry can do considerable harm to the targets of the bigotry. What is more surprising is the evidence showing that those who harbor bigotry are also at risk.

For example, research by psychologist Dr. Jordan B. Leitner has found a correlation between explicit racial bias among whites and rates of circulatory disease-related death. Explicit bias refers to consciously held prejudice that is sometimes overtly expressed; implicit bias is subconscious and detected only indirectly.

In effect, Leitner’s data suggest that living in a racially hostile community is related to increased rates of cardiovascular death for both the group targeted by this bias – in this case blacks – as well as the group that harbors the bias.

A woman protests racism at a London rally.John Gomez/Shutterstock.com

Writing in the journal Psychological Science, Leitner and his colleagues at the University of California Berkeley found that death rates from circulatory disease are more pronounced in communities where whites harbor more explicit racial bias. Both blacks and whites showed increased death rates, but the relationship was stronger for blacks. Although correlation does not prove causation, clinical psychology professor Vickie M. Mays and colleagues at UCLA have hypothesized that the experience of race-based discrimination may set in motion a chain of physiological events, such as elevated blood pressure and heart rate, that eventually increase the risk of death.

It’s unlikely that the adverse effects of discrimination and bigotry are limited to blacks and whites. For example, community health sciences professor Gilbert Gee and colleagues at UCLA have presented data showing that Asian-Americans who report discrimination are at elevated risk for poorer health, especially for mental health problems.

But are hatred and bigotry contagious?

Supporters of white nationalist Jason Kessler on a subway car after an Aug. 12, 2018 rally in Washington, D.C. Jim Urquhart/Reuters

As the adverse health effects of bigotry have been increasingly recognized, awareness has grown that hateful behaviors and their harmful effects can spread. For example, public health specialist Dr. Izzeldin Abuelaish and family physician Dr. Neil Arya, in an article titled “Hatred – A Public Health Issue,” argue that “Hatred can be conceptualized as an infectious disease, leading to the spread of violence, fear, and ignorance. Hatred is contagious; it can cross barriers and borders.”

Similarly, communications professor Adam G. Klein has studied the “digital hate culture,” and has concluded that “The speed with which online hate travels is breathtaking.”

As an example, Klein recounted a chain of events in which an anti-Semitic story (“Jews Destroying Their Own Graveyards”) appeared in the Daily Stormer, and was quickly followed by a flurry of anti-Semitic conspiracy theories spread by white supremacist David Duke via his podcast.

Consistent with Klein’s work, the Anti-Defamation League recently released a report titled, “New Hate and Old: The Changing Face of American White Supremacy.” The report found that,

“Despite the alt right’s move into the physical world, the internet remains its main propaganda vehicle. However, alt right internet propaganda involves more than just Twitter and websites. In 2018, podcasting plays a particularly outsized role in spreading alt right messages to the world.”

To be sure, tracking the spread of hatred is not like tracking the spread of, say, food-borne illness or the flu virus. After all, there is no laboratory test for the presence of hatred or bigotry.

Nevertheless, as a psychiatrist, I find the “hatred contagion hypothesis” entirely plausible. In my field, we see a similar phenomenon in so-called “copycat suicides,” whereby a highly publicized (and often glamorized) suicide appears to incite other vulnerable people to imitate the act.

A public health approach

If hatred and bigotry are indeed both harmful and contagious, how might a public health approach deal with this problem? Drs. Abuelaish and Arya suggest several “primary prevention” strategies, including promoting understanding of the adverse health consequences of hatred; developing emotional self-awareness and conflict resolution skills; creating “immunity” against provocative hate speech; and fostering an understanding of mutual respect and human rights.

In principle, these educational efforts could be incorporated into the curricula of elementary and middle schools. Indeed, the Anti-Defamation League already offers K-12 students in-person training and online resources to combat hatred, bullying, and bigotry. In addition, the Anti-Defamation League report urges an action plan that includes:

• Enacting comprehensive hate crime laws in every state.

• Improving the federal response to hate crimes.

• Expanding training for university administrators, faculty and staff.

• Promoting community resilience programming, aimed at understanding and countering extremist hate.

Bigotry may not be a “disease” in the strict medical sense of that term, akin to conditions like AIDS, coronary artery disease or polio. Yet, like alcoholism and substance use disorders, bigotry lends itself to a “disease model.” Indeed, to call bigotry a kind of disease is to invoke more than a metaphor. It is to assert that bigotry and other forms of hatred are correlated with adverse health consequences; and that hatred and bigotry can spread rapidly via social media, podcasts and similar modes of dissemination.

A public health approach to problems such as smoking has shown demonstrable success; for example, anti-tobacco mass media campaigns were partly responsible for changing the American public’s mind about cigarette smoking. Similarly, a public health approach to bigotry, such as the measures recommended by Abuelaish and Arya, will not eliminate hatred, but may at least mitigate the damage hatred can inflict upon society.

RONALD W. PIES is an Emeritus Professor of Psychiatry, Lecturer on Bioethics & Humanities at SUNY Upstate Medical University and a Clinical Professor of Psychiatry atTufts University School of Medicine.

THIS ARTICLE WAS ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED ON THE CONVERSATION

‘This is Africa’: Depictions of Black People in Mainland China

Earlier this year, Black Panther premiered in theaters around the world. The latest in a string of comic book-themed films turned out to be more of a cultural event than a mere movie. Black Panther broke records in the United States, as well as Great Britain, North and South Korea, and East and West Africa, dispelling the long-held Hollywood myth that “black films don’t travel.” Though fictional, the film struck a chord with audiences, as it featured a predominantly black cast and did not put them into the stereotypical roles often lamented by moviegoers. The film, however, was not as successful in Mainland China. Despite the fact that China is a major trading partner with the African continent, many Chinese moviegoers bristled at the idea of seeing Africans up close.

Chadwick Boseman, star of the movie Black Panther, appearing at Comic-Con in San Diego. Gaga Skidmore. CC BY SA-2.0

China was relatively closed to foreign trade until Deng Xiaoping's economic reform in 1978. Because of this, interactions with non-Chinese people are still a relatively new phenomenon. There is also a traditional standard in China that equates lighter skin with a comfortable, indoor lifestyle, and darker skin with peasantry, having to labor in fields under the hot sun. This combined with exposure to western media creates an environment that can be less than hospitable to blacks. Last year, an exhibit at the Hubei Provincial Museum in Wuhan titled, “This is Africa”, featured a portrait of a young African boy placed next to the portrait of a monkey. The exhibit was visited by over 100,000 people before criticism from the African community prompted museum officials to dismantle it, and the museum curator to take responsibility for the presentation. In February of this year, the same month Black Panther premiered, China’s Central China Television (CCTV) network came under fire when it aired a skit featuring a Chinese actor in blackface. Beijing issued a statement saying it was opposed to racism of any kind, but did not apologize for the skit.

Western nations are by no means immune to racial prejudice. While the Civil Rights movement of the 1960’s attempted to resolve many of the racial schisms that split the United States, lingering prejudices remain in various parts of the country. In recent years, proponents of racism have become more desperate, and less discreet. In January, the president of the United States allegedly referred to El Salvador, Haiti, and various African nations as “shithole countries,” seemingly forgetting his role as chief diplomat. Perceptions of Africa, and by extension those of African descent, are still slanted by the media, and media still accounts for much of the world’s education. This creates a quandary for those who have to live day-to-day under the banner of these stereotypes.

The CCTV building in Beijing. Verdgris. CC BY SA-3.0

There are some things that we believe because it serves us to believe them. Racism today is more than mere ideology. Like sexism, racism has evolved into a cultural standard, feeding into a lifestyle standard that is enjoyed, or not enjoyed, by millions of people around the world. As we begin to tinker with the idea racism, we also tinker with the standards it creates in our societies-some people are bound to get upset. At the same time, this tinkering opens new possibilities for growth, for all the parties it applies to. It refutes old characterizations of people and cultures and encourages us to make connections that we may not have considered before. All change involves a degree of pain and uncertainty, but we can only move forward, confident that the benefits of our efforts will justify the challenges.

JONATHAN ROBINSON is an intern at CATALYST. He is a travel enthusiast always adding new people, places, experiences to his story. He hopes to use writing as a means to connect with others like himself. 

Greece’s Lifejacket Graveyard

High up in the sunburnt hills of Lesvos, Greece lies a black and orange heap of plastic. It is large, about the size of an Olympic swimming pool, but its vastness pales in comparison to the scope of the reasons why it is there—the half a million and growing masses of displaced refugees who have washed up upon the island’s shores.

Lesvos is a major port for refugees fleeing chaos in the middle east, mostly from war-torn Afghanistan and Syria. The journey across the sea can be deadly. Refugees often pay over $5000 to smugglers who will bring them across the Mediterranean to supposedly safe ports in Europe, but there is no guarantee that the smugglers have not been bribed for one reason or another, or that the journey will be successful.

The black and orange heaps rotting in the hills of Lesvos are made up of lifejackets and boats that belonged to those who made it over, but in those quiet mountains one can almost hear the whispering of the hundreds of thousands who were lost on the way. A closer look reveals children’s floaties, some painted with princess decals, some emblazoned with the message, This is not a flotation device.

Once in Lesvos, the owners of these lifejackets were carted into packed camps, where many of them have remained for years. Conditions in the Moria camp in particular have been widely maligned by human rights organizations around the world. The camp was made to hold 2,000 people and now holds over 6,000, according to official reports, though many believe that the number has exceeded 8,000. Refugees live in cramped makeshift tents that flood when it rains, and the camps are overrun by disease, mental illness stemming from severe trauma, and chaos.

Following the Arab Spring in 2011, which catalyzed revolutions across the Middle East, Syria and many other countries experienced a mass exodus, leading to the flood of people seeking asylum in Europe that has come to be known as the modern refugee crisis.

Many refugees are university-educated professionals, fleeing in hopes of finding a better life for themselves and their families. But once in Europe, they are often caught up in bureaucratic tangles that keep them stagnant in the camps for years at a time, despite the fact that many already have family members in other parts of the continent.

Thousands of volunteers have flocked to the island in order to help. Nonprofits like A Drop in the Ocean host lessons and English classes for refugees, and facilitate the safe landings of newly arrived boats. Others work to provide hygienic services, like the organization Showers for Sisters, which provides safe showers and sanitary products to women and children.

Lesvos itself still functions in part as a tourist town, though it is mostly populated by volunteers, refugees, and locals. Not far from the lifejacket graveyard is the pleasant seaside town of Molyvos, which boasts sandy beaches and restaurants serving traditional Greek fare.

Much of the island is made up of open space, populated only by olive groves and forests, open plains, and abandoned buildings. The lifejacket graveyard is located in one such empty plain, and except for scavenging seagulls and goats, the area is empty, making the presence of the rotting heaps of plastic even more unnerving.

The only other proof of human presence to be found lies on a wall of graffiti nearby a garbage dump, marked by the sentiment Shame on you, Europe.

The combination of the Greek financial crisis and rising tides of nationalism occurring at the same time as the height of the refugee crisis have caused xenophobic sentiments to allow these horrifically overcrowded camps to mar this beautiful tropical island, which once inspired the Greek poet Sappho to write her legendary love poems.

The lifejacket graveyard has been left standing partly because of island officials’ lack of motivation to clean it up, and partly as a statement, a tribute to the thousands who still wait in limbo on the island.

If you are interested in helping out, organizations mostly need financial contributions, legal aid, medical aid, translators, and publicity. It is also possible to volunteer, and opportunities and detailed information can be found at sites like greecevol.info.

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Eden Arielle Gordon

Eden Arielle Gordon is a writer, musician, and avid traveler. She attends Barnard College in New York.

SOUTH AFRICA: Dinner in Khayelitsha

South African apartheid is frequently written off as a memory, something that ended decades ago. But from the start of my visit to South Africa, it became clear that the violence of that period has continued to bleed into the present, manifesting itself in clear racial and economic divides.

Residents walk through shacks in Cape Town's Khayelitsha township in this picture taken July 9, 2012.

I visited Cape Town in the summer of 2016. Cape Town is a city of contrasts—tall, imposing mountains cast shadows over clear blue seas, and seaside villas luxuriate only a few miles away from derelict townships.

These townships are the subject of this piece. Townships in South Africa are villages that remain from apartheid-era forced exoduses of non-white people, cast out of their homes and crammed into segregated areas.

These townships still stand today. They are mostly collections of mottled tin-roof shacks and cramped streets, and they are home to 38% of South Africa’s population of 18.7 million.

From the beginning of my arrival in South Africa, I was told by locals that the townships were unsafe, especially for outsiders. But one day, I returned to my flat in the town of Observatory and one of my roommates asked me if I wanted to visit one.

The visit would be hosted, she told me, by Dine With Khayelitsha, a program founded by four young township residents designed to foster communication between their communities and those outside. Dine With Khayelitsha started in March 2015, as part of a partnership with Denmark and Switerland intended on working as a fundraiser. It then grew and has now hosted over 100 dinners. Each dinner is attended by at least one of the founders, who assures the safe transportation of every participant.

Thanks to this organization, I found myself on a bus driving into one of the townships, and then I was suddenly in a house with a bunch of strangers, eating authentic South African beans and meat.

We arrived at the township’s president’s home, though she was not there—she was outside campaigning, and instead several locals were cooking the meal for the night.

I had come with my new friend, and among the other attendees were two Dutch women, an artist from Germany, a couple from France and Morocco, and a South African black woman. Noticeably absent were white native South Africans, a fact that we asked the hosts about. Apparently, South Africans themselves still persistently ostracize the townships, creating divisions between themselves and the poorer underside of their country.

Our hosts were a few young men from the townships. They had all attended college and one worked in IT and another in software engineering, and most of them also ran after school programs such as leadership and self-esteem workshops for township kids. They had started this organization in an effort to generate more dialogue among South Africans and to raise awareness and reduce stigma concerning the townships.

First, they asked us to discuss one act of kindness we’d performed recently. As night fell, the talk began to flow more easily.  We discussed the fact that so many kids from townships are forced to go through school and university, if they can make it that far, in order to get menial jobs that can support their families. For these kids, following their dreams is not an option, but it is rather an inconceivable luxury. One of the hosts said that he would love to run education programs for kids, but instead he had to become an engineer to support his family.

After dinner, as we were waiting for a bus to come pick us up, I asked one of the men if most people born into townships grow up wanting to escape, to find better lives. He told me that some did, but in his opinion, it is far more important to stay in the townships and to try to create a better life there. That’s what he had done; he’d gotten an education and a job and still lives in the townships, trying to create programs and to help uplift the state of the community.

I talked to another local who was a writer, and his eyes shone as he talked about how he can capture strange and vivid moments with words—and another who spoke passionately about his desire to hear stories from people all around the world. There was an undercurrent of kindness that seemed to link these people together that I have rarely seen; a desire to include others, to tell stories and to share parts of their lives, to not build walls but to rather create open streams of connection. To create rather than to destroy.

Conversations like this one cannot heal or make up for old wounds inflicted upon non-white people in South Africa—only physical reparations and policy changes can truly begin that process. But they are a step in the right direction—a step towards understanding that we are all part of the same global community, and the walls between us are really made of dust.

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EDEN ARIELLE GORDON is a writer, musician, and avid traveler. She attends Barnard College in New York.