More than 84 percent of the 2010 world population – 5.8 billion people – consider themselves religiously affiliated, according to a recent study. Religious leaders can therefore have significant influence across a broad range of social, economic, and political issues. Perhaps nowhere is that influence felt more strongly than in debates about reproductive health and rights, and perhaps nowhere are the consequences so large than in poor and marginalized communities.

The original version of this article first appeared on The Globalist.

Haze may be the new weapon of mass destruction. Not in the narrow sense of an incoming ballistic missile, of course, but for millions in Southeast Asia, this summer’s sooty haze poses a threat more dire than a nuclear-tipped missile.

For a country that once made headlines for famine, poverty, and war, Ethiopia is gaining a reputation as a development leader on the African continent. In just over 10 years, the country has slashed child mortality rates by half, rising in global rank from 146 in 2000 to 68 in 2012. More money is being spent on health care, poverty levels and fertility rates are down, and twice as many children are in school.

There’s a popular saying in Afghanistan reflecting the value of water: “Let Kabul be without gold, but not without snow.”

Living in a refugee camp across the border in Pakistan during the Soviet occupation, my father, who worked as a doctor in Samangan, Bamyan, Kunar, and Balkh provinces, used to tell me about the importance of our country’s natural wealth. He was optimistic that it was Afghanistan’s land, water, forests, and minerals that would help the country re-emerge as a strong nation. However, he also knew that the mismanagement of our natural resources is partly to blame for the instability, insecurity, and vulnerability that have gripped our country for so many years. This is the paradox of the natural resource wealth in Afghanistan.

In August, Solomon Hsiang, Marshall Burke, and Edward Miguel published a provocative piece in Science in which they sought to demonstrate a correlation between climate extremes and violence across a range of time periods, countries, and different levels of conflict. It’s a massive undertaking and one that predictably has evoked some criticism – some of it warranted.

The original version of this article, by Susan Moran, appeared on Ensia.

Lean and towering at 6 feet 5 inches, Ken Giller blends right into the rows of climbing beanstalks he is examining on this blisteringly hot spring day in Buhoro, a village in northern Rwanda. Local farmers who have been growing various varieties of beans bred for high yields and other desirable traits proudly show him their plots on the terraced hillside.

Population aging and decline are frequently described as a threat to countries’ economic development and social stability. Evocative language, such as “demographic winter” and “graying of the great powers,” portrays the serious consequences that many observers envision as fertility and growth rates decline and the elderly comprise a greater percentage of the population. These concerns reach around the globe, including in Africa, which has the lowest percentage of elderly among the world’s major regions.