Once again, we find ourselves witnessing another calamitous hurricane event in the United States, just weeks after a George Washington University report estimated that nearly 3,000 more people died in the 6 months following last year’s Hurricane Maria than would have without the hurricane. We have been here before, too many times. With each and every major disaster, the scientists who study public health in crises ask ourselves, is what we have learned and shared being taken seriously—or is it just being ignored? The response to Hurricane Maria, which devastated Puerto Rico last year, is just one more example where we have to ask if our work is valued by those who have the political power to improve public health. The staggering number of excess deaths—most of whom died after the storm—point to a deadly lack of prevention and preparedness, particularly in the public health system.

The security implications of climate change emerged as an important area of concern in the mid 2000s in both policy circles and academia. Since then, there has been much research exploring causal pathways between climate phenomena and violent conflict, often with inconclusive or mixed results.

In Judy Brady’s iconic essay, “I Want a Wife,” the feminist activist enumerates the dozens of practical and emotional tasks wives perform as a matter of duty. At the end, she asks: “My God, who wouldn’t want a wife?”

While the World Population Prospects—the UN Population Division’s demographic estimates and projections—will never land on anyone’s non-fiction best-seller list, the latest version holds some noteworthy true stories. And the most remarkable demographic story of all may be Bangladesh’s.

Great power competition in Asia is not only about control of critical waterways in the South China Sea, but also about who controls Asia’s fresh water. The future of Asia’s water—upon which about four billion people depend—lies in China’s hands. Through its presence in Tibet, China controls the headwaters of ten of the eleven major rivers of Asia. So far, China has taken a relatively cooperative approach to sharing water with its neighbors as part of the systematic consolidation of its “soft power” over downstream countries. But climate change and rapid growth are threatening to upset this delicate diplomatic balance. What happens when China’s own thirst outpaces its resources? And how will China’s choices affect U.S. interests in the strategic Asia-Pacific region?

The two poles of our planet—the Arctic and Antarctica—demand greater attention right now. For decades, the United States has played a leadership role in both regions, a responsibility that it must continue to fulfill as a warming climate and other drivers of change are creating new challenges and opportunities. Regrettably, the Trump Administration has not devoted the resources or high-level attention necessary to maintaining American leadership position on these critical matters.

Last May, the European Union announced an ambitious plan to dedicate 10 percent of its 2019 humanitarian aid budget to education during emergencies. At the same time the European Commission released its first policy on education in emergencies, observing that “access to quality education is being denied to millions of children by increasingly protracted conflicts, forced displacement, violence, climate change and disasters.” As a result, the Commission notes, “uneducated, lost generations” have been forced “to embark on perilous journeys to Europe and other regions of the world, affecting their stability and development.” The European Union’s announcement is a welcome development for global education, which has received scant attention from international aid agencies and languished at the margins of the international humanitarian agenda.

The research presented in this article was subsequently published in a peer-reviewed article: https://link.springer.com/chapter/10.1007/978-3-030-73065-9_3

The Kurdish people’s century-long quest for self-determination reveals a key aspect of ethnic separatist conflicts. Ideas of nationhood can endure for generations, unifying people across borders and often making separatist conflicts hard to resolve. But how much harder is it to resolve separatist conflicts than other violent, non-territorial intra-state wars (such as political revolutions)? In practical terms, how much longer, on average, can policymakers expect separatist conflicts to persist and reoccur than the typical political revolution? These are tough questions. Surprisingly, demography helps us find the answers.