“We need more Indigenous midwives,” said Claire Dion Fletcher, an Indigenous Potawatomi-Lenape Registered Midwife and co-chair of the National Aboriginal Council of Midwives (NACM), at a recent Wilson Center event with the United Nations Population Fund (UNFPA) and the International Confederation of Midwives about Indigenous midwifery. Globally, Indigenous women experience worse maternal health outcomes than non-Indigenous women. In the United States, risk of maternal death is twice as high for Native women than white women, while in Australia the risk is four and a half times higher.

As a world still dominated by patriarchy struggles with a deadly pandemic, the countries that have successfully navigated the global COVID-19 pandemic are distinguished by the gender of their leadership.  Across the world, countries headed by women and representing diverse cultures—from Germany, Norway, and Finland, to Taiwan, New Zealand, and Namibia—have managed the crisis more effectively, with fewer fatalities and less livelihood loss than others. But what distinguishes these health winners is not just the female shape of their leaders but the feminist shape of their societies. Even more gender-balanced societies headed by men—like Canada—do better in health crises than their less equitable peers like the United States. On the other hand, the most patriarchal countries headed by regressive strongmen do worse at every level of development. Today, we see this in Brazil, which until recently had managed health crises well under less masculinist leadership.

“While COVID-19 has wreaked havoc the world over, history has proven, and recent data agrees that the hardest hit will be the world’s women and girls and populations already impacted by racism and discrimination,” said Sarah Barnes, Project Director of the Maternal Health Initiative and Women and Gender Advisor at the Wilson Center, at a recent event on the impact of COVID-19 on race and gender inequities. Coronavirus has hurt women and girls in many ways. Among them, women have been pushed back into the home.  And healthcare workers and caregivers who are mostly women are jeopardizing their own health, caring for others.

Last year, four rivers were granted legal rights: the Whanganui in New Zealand, Rio Atrato in Colombia, and the Ganga and Yamuna rivers in India. These four cases present powerful examples of the increasing relevance of rights-centered environmental protection. Like corporations, which have legal rights in many jurisdictions, these rivers are rights-bearing entities whose rights can be enforced by local communities and individuals in court. But unlike corporations, these rights are not yet recognized in international treaties. Which raises the question: what are the implications of rights for nature for international environmental law?

Every year, millions of shorebirds migrate to the Arctic to breed—some coming from as far away as Australia and New Zealand—and then head back again. Nearly all of the birds making this journey spend time in the food-rich intertidal mudflats of the Yellow Sea ecoregion, on the east coast of China and the west coasts of the Korean peninsula. But as China’s economy has grown, around 70 percent of the intertidal mudflats in the Yellow Sea area have disappeared—the land drained and “reclaimed” for development. All of the more than 30 species of shorebirds that rely on the mudflats are declining, and those that stop there twice a year are declining at a faster rate than those that stop only once. If the current trajectory continues, the Yellow Sea—once known as the cradle of China—will become the epicenter of extinction.

Last year a Kiribati man, Ioane Teitiota, claimed asylum in New Zealand, stating that his home island, which is on average just two meters above sea level, was becoming uninhabitable thanks to rising seas. So-called “king tides” routinely wash over entire portions of the archipelago.