Hollywood’s obsession with age hypogamy — relationships between older women and younger men — never gets old. More than 50 years after The Graduate, a film where Mrs Robinson, an older woman, propositions a young male college graduate, the Netflix rom-com A Family Affair, starring Nicole Kidman and Zac Efron, has repurposed the same age-gap situationship to drive the plot.
So does the upcoming Bridget Jones flick, Mad About the Boy, in which 50-something Bridget gets involved with a man in his 20s. Let’s not forget Glynnis MacNicol’s memoir I’m Mostly Here to Enjoy Myself, featuring trysts with younger men as part of her pleasure-driven pandemic sojourn in Paris.
A recent Ipsos poll found that many American adults have engaged in age-gap dating — that is, they have previously dated someone with an age difference of 10+ years. It also found that many find such relationships perfectly socially acceptable. And despite what the aforementioned films suggest, age-gap relationships occur between not just Boomers or Gen X women and younger men. They also occur between Gen Z men and Millennial women and are more common than many might think.
The recent movie The Idea of You hit a cultural nerve about age-gap relationships. It features a Millennial woman (Anne Hathaway) getting into a relationship with a younger Gen Z man (Nicholas Galitzine). The film’s subplot of younger mean girls bullying Hathaway’s character dramatizes how harsh society can still be to women who want to enjoy anything other than ring-on-finger “age-appropriate” arrangements.
The social reality of Millennial women and Gen Z men dating means we need to rethink stereotypes about MILFs, predatory cougars or boy toys; particularly when it’s the younger men doing the pursuing.
As social scientists who study dating, relating and mate choice, we’re curious about the appeal of these relationships to the people in them. What makes them tick? What should Millennial women and Gen Z men keep in mind when sharing their relationships with family and friends?
No one’s 20s and 30s look the same. You might be saving for a mortgage or just struggling to pay rent. You could be swiping on dating apps or trying to navigate childcare. No matter your current challenges, our Quarter Life series has articles to share in the group chat, or just to remind you that you’re not alone.
Our analysis of age hypogamy reveals the pragmatic underpinning of these relationships; it sometimes comes down to who’s available. Many older men often prefer to date younger women. The same is true for a lot of older women, with Millennial and Gen Z men emerging as appealing dating options.
For their part, many Gen Z men might have fewer opportunities to date women their own age, or prefer to date older women for various reasons. Enter Millennial women.
Some age gaps gain more attention than others. Age-gap relationships grab people’s attention when they deem the age difference between partners significant. Our reactions also have to do with how old the people in question are. Take the 40 year age difference between Cher (77) and her boyfriend Alexander Edwards (37).
When both partners are relatively young and their age gap smaller, as in the case of some relationships between Millennial women and Gen Z men, it might appear less transgressive or impactful. This could explain why these pairings get relatively little cultural air play. But because these unions occur when a mere few years apart is more meaningful from a developmental standpoint, their significance might be underplayed.
What’s the attraction?
If you’re an older Millennial woman, you might be attracted to younger men for their energy, inclusive views about sex and gender and superior care and literacy about their partner’s emotional well-being. As writer Melissa Mason put it:
He can handle my relationship anxieties. He makes me laugh, and I can be myself around him. It’s just easy.
Millennial women who are with Gen Z men have conveyed to us that they enjoy feeling admired by their boyfriends versus feeling competition from men their own age. One 28-year-old woman said:
He isn’t threatened by any aspects of my life because we are automatically in different places/stages due to the age gap.
Another told us:
Women my age seem to be excited by the freshness and lack of bitterness that comes with dating someone younger. Younger men seem more open and less burdened by insecurities.
What’s in it for the guys?
A 26-year-old man with a nearly 30-year-old partner typified the sentiment of many of his peers. Even his parents, who are of a generation that might dismiss a small age gap as insignificant, “appreciate that she is more mature than people my age.” He added:
I often find women are much more evolved when it comes to relationships and emotional depth and actually expressing feelings. The age difference on top of that means I take a relationship more seriously and grow [more].
In many ways, Gen Z men see Millennial women as an opportunity to “level up” emotionally and socially.
With their evolved attitudes about everything from non-monogamy and gender fluidity to the anti-hustle “soft life,” Gen Z men may be the most likely generation to overturn powerfully entrenched stereotypes about sex and relationships. The kind featured by podcast bros, where unscientific notions like “sexual market value” and oppressive patriarchal norms are peddled to the red pill crew.
Millennial women, for their part, are discovering what Gen X women already know: younger men are not just more available — they’re also more desirable for many reasons. With various generations of partners enjoying what age hypogamy has to offer, this dating strategy may be paving the way to a more equitable and mutually satisfying future for relationships of all kinds.
Launching your age-gap relationship
Although social acceptance of age-gap relationships is increasing, introducing your younger man or older woman to family and friends can still be nerve-wracking. Whether it’s a hard or soft launch, in-person or online, here are some tips to manage the potential push back.
In terms of when to do it, most people share their person with other loved ones when they feel strongly about their partner and relationship. This can reduce the judgmental looks or comments.
It’s important for partners to discuss the emotions that can arise during the meet-and-greet session (e.g. fear, rejection, excitement). Thinking about how to deal with tricky situations in the moment (smile, leave the room, speak your mind, hold your ground) and later on is also a wise game plan (debriefing, journalling).
Millennial women dating younger men might face criticism around having children, or not having them. It might be presumed, for instance, that young men aren’t prepared for fatherhood or that they might talk women out of having kids. Whatever your stance, be firm and confident in what you’ve established with your partner, even if the answer is: “we’re not sure yet.” That’s perfectly OK.
If you’re a Gen Z man dating a Millennial or older woman, you might come up against the idea that age-gap relationships are inherently exploitative. You may also encounter outdated gender-role concerns about your partner being more successful or powerful than you. Facing flack from your friends is something else to consider, especially rude comments about your girlfriend being a “cougar” or “cradle robber.” Stay true to your convictions and be gentle on yourself during the disclosure process.
Credits
Anthropologist and author Wednesday Martin co-authored this article.
“This Mississippi Hospital Transfers Some Patients to Jail to Await Mental Health Treatment,” by Isabelle Taft, Mississippi Today
“This story was originally published by ProPublica.” ProPublica is a Pulitzer Prize-winning investigative newsroom. Sign up for The Big Story newsletter to receive stories like this one in your inbox.
Series: Committed to Jail: How Mississippi Jails People for Mental Illness
In Mississippi, many people awaiting court-ordered treatment for mental illness or substance abuse are jailed, even though they haven’t been charged with a crime.
When Sandy Jones’ 26-year-old daughter started writing on the walls of her home in Hernando, Mississippi, last year and talking angrily to the television, Sandy said, she knew two things: Her daughter Sydney needed help, and Sandy didn’t want her to be held in jail again to get it.
A year and a half earlier, during Sydney Jones’ first psychotic episode, her mother filed paperwork to have her involuntarily committed, a legal process in which a judge can order someone to receive mental health treatment. After DeSoto County sheriff’s deputies showed up at Sydney’s home and explained that they were detaining her for a mental evaluation, Sydney panicked and ran inside. Following a struggle, deputies cuffed and shackled her and drove her to the county jail, where people going through the commitment process are usually held as they await mental health treatment elsewhere.
Over nine days in jail, Sydney Jones said, she believed her tattoos were portals for spiritual forces and felt like she had been abandoned by her family. In an interview, she said that the experience was so traumatic that she became anxious when she drove, afraid she could be arrested at any moment.
The second time Sydney Jones experienced delusions, in 2023, a family member contacted the local community mental health center for help. Police officers with mental health training came and called an ambulance to take Jones to Baptist Memorial Hospital-DeSoto, part of a large, religiously affiliated nonprofit hospital system. But because the hospital doesn’t have a psychiatric unit, after a few days it sent her to the jail to wait for eventual treatment in a publicly funded facility. Like the first time, she hadn’t been charged with a crime.
Jailed To Await Mental Health Treatment
Roughly 200 people in DeSoto County were jailed annually during the civil commitment process, most without criminal charges, between 2021 and 2023. About a fifth of them were picked up at local hospitals, according to an estimate based on a review of Sheriff’s Department records by Mississippi Today and ProPublica. The overwhelming majority of those patients, according to our analysis, were at Baptist Memorial Hospital-DeSoto, the largest in this prosperous, suburban county near Memphis.
“That would just be unthinkable here,” said Dr. Grayson Norquist, the chief of psychiatry at Grady Memorial Hospital in Atlanta, a professor at Emory University and the former chair of psychiatry at the University of Mississippi Medical Center in Jackson, Mississippi.
Norquist was one of 17 physicians specializing in emergency medicine or psychiatry, including leaders in their fields, who said they had never heard of a hospital sending patients to jail solely to wait for mental health treatment. Several said it violates doctors’ Hippocratic oath: to do no harm.
The practice appears to be unusual even in Mississippi, where lawmakers recently acted to limit when people can be jailed as they go through the civil commitment process. Sheriff’s departments in about a third of the state’s counties, including those that appear to jail such people most frequently, responded to questions from Mississippi Today and ProPublica about how they handle involuntary commitment. They said they seldom, if ever, take people who need mental health treatment from a hospital to jail. At most, said sheriffs in a few rural counties, they do it once or twice a month.
Hospital Patients Jailed About 50 times
But in DeSoto County, hospital patients were jailed about 50 times a year from 2021 to 2023, according to the news outlets’ estimate, which was based on a review of Sheriff’s Department dispatch logs, incident reports and jail dockets.
At least two people have died soon after being taken from Baptist-DeSoto to a county jail during the commitment process, according to documents submitted for lawsuits filed over their deaths. One person died by suicide hours after arriving at the DeSoto County jail in 2021; the other died of multisystem organ failure after being jailed for three days in neighboring Marshall County in 2011. James Franks, an attorney who handles commitments for DeSoto County, said officials had no reason to believe that the woman who killed herself was suicidal. DeSoto County made a similar argument in a court filing in an ongoing lawsuit over that death, which didn’t name the hospital as a defendant. In lawsuits over the other death, a judge dismissed Marshall County and the sheriff as defendants, and a jury found that Baptist-DeSoto wasn’t liable.
Baptist-DeSoto officials said the hospital hands some patients over to deputies to take them to jail because those patients need dedicated treatment that the hospital can’t provide and nearby inpatient facilities are full. Most people who need inpatient treatment agree to be transferred to a behavioral health facility, according to Kim Alexander, director of public relations for Baptist Memorial Health Care Corp. But in a relatively small number of cases, she wrote in an email, patients are deemed dangerous to themselves or others and don’t agree to treatment, so they need to be committed. When that happens, she said, it’s the county’s responsibility to decide where to house them.
Not The Ideal Option
“We discharge mental health patients with the hope they will be transferred to a mental health facility that can provide the specialized care they need,” Alexander wrote in a statement. Jailing people who need mental health care is “not the ideal option,” she wrote. “Our hearts go out to anyone who cannot access the mental health care they need because behavioral health services are not available in the area.”
But doctors elsewhere said even if psychiatric facilities are full, Baptist-DeSoto doesn’t have to send patients to jail. They said the hospital could do what hospitals elsewhere in the country do: keep patients until a treatment bed is available.
“This is a principle of emergency medicine: You care for all people, under all circumstances, at any time,” said Dr. Lewis Goldfrank, who spent 50 years working in emergency medicine, including at Bellevue Hospital in New York City. Sending patients to jail because of their illness, he said, “is just unethical and irresponsible.”
Sandy Jones said she was in disbelief when it happened to her daughter. If Sydney has another psychotic episode, Sandy Jones said she won’t try to get help in DeSoto County. “I will tie her up until it’s over.”
Headed to Jail in a Hospital Gown and Handcuffs
Baptist, the largest and oldest hospital in DeSoto County, sits right off the interstate amid big-box stores and chain hotels in Southaven, Mississippi. It’s the first place many residents think of when they need medical help. Since 2017, it has served as the drop-off point for the county’s crisis intervention team, which was established to give law enforcement a way to help people with mental illness without bringing them to jail.
But when people show up in the emergency department needing inpatient psychiatric treatment, they don’t get it at Baptist-DeSoto. Instead, a crisis coordinator sets about finding some other place for them. If patients agree to treatment, they may be able to go to a publicly funded crisis unit, the closest of which is 50 miles away, or to a private psychiatric hospital. If they don’t, the crisis coordinator pursues commitment, which means turning patients over to the Sheriff’s Department. And because the Sheriff’s Department usually won’t transport patients over a long distance multiple times for a court hearing and eventual treatment, those patients usually go to jail.
The Sydney Jones Case
That was the case with Sydney Jones. After she arrived at the hospital in April 2023, a psychiatrist contracted by the hospital evaluated her and concluded that she needed inpatient treatment. Jones was prescribed antipsychotic medication, admitted to the hospital, placed in her own room and monitored by a security guard.
Meanwhile, a staffer for Region IV, the local nonprofit community mental health center that works with Baptist-DeSoto to place patients who need treatment, was trying to find someplace for Jones other than the hospital. Catherine Davis, the crisis coordinator, concluded that Jones would need to be committed.
The next day, Davis contacted Jones’ cousin, who had tried to get Jones help, and asked the cousin to initiate commitment proceedings. (Region IV’s contract with Baptist-DeSoto requires it to try to get a patient’s family member or friend to file commitment paperwork before doing so itself.) The cousin refused because she knew Jones would be jailed until a bed opened up, according to Sandy Jones. (The cousin declined an interview request.)
On Sydney Jones’ fourth day at Baptist-DeSoto, two sheriff’s deputies arrived. They received discharge papers from a nurse and wheeled Jones out of the hospital, according to her and an incident report. Jones, who said her delusions at the time were “like if Satan made goggles and put them on you,” was terrified that the deputies would drive her to a field, rape her and kill her.
Sandy Jones said she didn’t understand why she had no say in what was happening to her daughter, although that’s typical during the commitment process. “I felt like she was kidnapped from me,” Sandy Jones said. Her daughter spent nine days in jail before being admitted to a crisis unit, where she was treated for about two weeks.
Mississippi Today and ProPublica interviewed five other people who were discharged from Baptist to jail, including two who had been taken to the hospital because they had attempted suicide. One said that when deputies came to his room, he wondered if he had somehow committed a crime after trying to kill himself by overdosing on prescription medication. Another said he felt humiliated to be wheeled through the hospital wearing just a hospital gown. Three of the five said they were handcuffed before being taken away.
Patients are Medically Stabilized
Hospital officials noted that all patients are medically stabilized before being released and that some patients are committed by family members. Dr. H. F. Mason, Baptist-DeSoto’s chief medical officer, said in an interview that he didn’t know how often patients who need behavioral health treatment might be discharged to jail, but he has no concerns about the practice. When hospital staff hand patients over to local authorities, Mason said, “we feel that they’re going to take the appropriate care of that patient.”
The jail, however, offers minimal psychiatric treatment, if any. Region IV staff members visit the jail primarily to evaluate people going through the commitment process or to check on people on suicide watch, Region IV Director Jason Ramey said. Jail officials said medical staff try to make sure inmates have access to their prescription drugs, although some people jailed during commitment proceedings have said they didn’t consistently get their medications.
Davis and county officials involved in the commitment process said sending patients to jail as they await treatment is better than allowing them to go home, which they see as the only other option. Jail is “not ideal, but we’ve got to make sure these people are safe so they’re not going to harm themselves or somebody else,” Davis said. “If they’ve had a serious suicide attempt, and they’re just adamant they’re going home, I mean — I can’t ethically let them go home. … We do try to explore all the options before we send them there.”
Once in jail, many patients wait days or weeks to be evaluated further, to go before a judge and to be taken somewhere for treatment, according to a review of jail dockets. One 37-year-old man picked up at Baptist-DeSoto in 2022 was jailed for nearly two months, which according to jail dockets was one of the longest detentions between 2021 and 2023.
The husband of a 64-year-old woman said that during the evaluation process he was encouraged by someone at Baptist-DeSoto — he doesn’t remember who — to pursue commitment proceedings after his wife stopped taking her bipolar disorder medication and overdosed on prescription drugs and alcohol. She was jailed for 28 days.
“I’m a Jehovah’s Witness,” said the woman, who asked not to be identified because she doesn’t want people to know she was jailed for mental illness. “I never known anything like that in my life. Never been arrested. All my rights just stripped from me. To do that to an old woman, because I was having mental troubles!”
She said the experience left her terrified to seek mental health care in DeSoto County. “I’d rather die than go back in there,” she said of the jail.
DeSoto County Struggles with a Problem Other Communities Have Addressed
Although DeSoto County has long relied on its jail to house people awaiting treatment, some communities elsewhere in the state have found other options. They rely on nearby crisis units to provide short-term treatment and in many cases have arrangements with local hospitals to treat patients if a publicly funded bed isn’t available.
On the Gulf Coast, people who come to hospitals in Ocean Springs or Pascagoula can be admitted to an eight-bed psychiatric unit, said Kim Henderson, director of emergency services for Singing River Health System, which operates those facilities.
Henderson said the psychiatric unit loses money because many patients lack insurance and can’t pay. “It would be so much easier to say we’re not going to do this anymore and shut it down,” she said. “But we don’t believe that’s the right thing to do.”
Over the years, DeSoto County officials have expressed frustration with how many people are jailed during the commitment process, but they’ve made little progress in coming up with an alternative.
In 2007, Baptist-DeSoto initiated 152 commitments, according to board meeting minutes and a news story in the DeSoto Times-Tribune; many of those patients went to jail. The hospital sends people “as quickly as they can to the Sheriff’s Department. They want them out of there,” Michael Garriga, then the county administrator, said at the time, according to another Times-Tribune article. (The news stories didn’t include a comment from the hospital; Alexander, Baptist’s spokesperson, said she couldn’t comment on practices from years ago because no one who was part of the leadership team then is still around.)
In 2008, the CEO of Parkwood Behavioral Health System, which operates a psychiatric facility in the county, offered to treat people going through the commitment process for $465 per patient per day — many times more than the $25 a day it cost back then to house someone in jail. No contract was ever signed.
Often People Awaiting Mental Health Treatment Were Jailed
Two years later, again aiming to reduce how often people awaiting mental health treatment were jailed, DeSoto County started working with a different community mental health center, Region IV. The number of people held in jail during commitment proceedings fell sharply, but within several years it had risen.
In 2021, the state Department of Mental Health said it would give Region IV money to create a crisis unit in DeSoto, the largest county in the state without one. But the county must provide the building, and it has taken about two years just to move forward with a location, according to meeting minutes.
County officials considered putting the crisis unit in a building a few miles from the hospital and even got an architect to scope out a renovation, according to meeting minutes. By 2023, those plans had been scuttled amid concerns about the cost of renovations and opposition from neighbors, according to Mark Gardner, a county supervisor, and board meeting minutes.
Former Sheriff Bill Rasco said he was told by an alderman for the city of Southaven that residents didn’t want people with mental illness in their neighborhood. Rasco, who served from 2008 through 2023, said he believes the rapidly growing county has had the means to build a facility, but supervisors prioritize paving roads and keeping taxes low. “We build agricultural arenas, walking trails and ballfields, and we let our mental health suffer,” he said.
The county Board of Supervisors inched forward again in February, voting to hire an architect to draw up plans to renovate a different county building. But construction on the 16-bed facility won’t start until spring 2025 at the earliest.
Mental Illness Shouldn’t Be Jailed
Gardner, who was first elected in 2011, said he has always believed that people with mental illness shouldn’t be jailed, but the Sheriff’s Department and Region IV didn’t propose an alternative until recently. “We need it today,” he said. “I hate that we haven’t been able to find a suitable place till now to put this.”
A year after Sydney Jones’ second psychotic episode, she’s doing better. She hasn’t experienced another mental health crisis. The sight of a police cruiser no longer triggers a panic attack, though she does get anxious when she sees one in her neighborhood.
But she wants to remind herself of what she survived to get here, so she keeps mementos. The composition book where she wrote notes during group therapy at the crisis unit. The Bible she read in jail. The planner where she wrote “Hospital” in one square and “Jail” in the next. And two plastic wristbands: The white one identified her as a hospital patient; the yellow one, with her mug shot and booking number, identified her as a prisoner.
How We Reported This Story
To report this story, we obtained DeSoto County Sheriff’s Department logs from 2021 through 2023 that showed when deputies were called to two local hospitals to take people into custody for involuntary commitment proceedings to receive treatment for mental illness or substance abuse. Those logs included nearly 200 calls, mostly to Baptist Memorial Hospital-DeSoto.
To determine which calls resulted in jail detentions, we needed to cross-reference the logs with incident reports and county jail dockets. We requested incident reports for about half of calls from 2021 through 2023. Although this sample wasn’t collected at random, we requested records from a range of months to account for possible variations throughout the year. Patients’ names were redacted from incident reports, but by using other identifying information in those reports, we matched 76% of the call logs in our sample to an entry in jail dockets. The remaining calls included not just those for which we couldn’t match an incident report to a jail docket entry, but also those for which there was no incident report or the patient was taken to a crisis unit or a private psychiatric hospital.
Based on that percentage and the volume of calls during the three-year period, we estimated that about 23% of the roughly 650 people jailed during the civil commitment process in DeSoto County had been picked up at a local hospital. Again, the overwhelming majority were taken from Baptist-DeSoto. To ensure that our estimate was conservative and accounted for any variation due to our sample, we characterized this as about one-fifth of civil commitment jail detentions. We shared our preliminary findings with hospital and county officials; no one disputed them.
To determine how the number of people jailed during commitment proceedings in DeSoto County has changed over time, we obtained jail dockets dating back to 2007. We don’t have data for 2009 and 2010 because of a file storage issue at the Sheriff’s Department.
As Kate Hendricks Thomas sat one night with her second-grade son Matthew, he placed his hands on the table as if he were an adult girding up for an important conversation.
“Mom,” Kate remembers him saying, “I’m not going to cry when I say this.”
And then, she says, he started to cry, but just a little bit. Her heart tightened in her chest as she waited.
“He said, ‘I just want you to know, when you die, I’m going to cry so hard because I love you so much,’” she remembers.
Hendricks Thomas shines fiercely: A former Marine Corps officer, she hit Fallujah, Iraq, in 2005, when the living was still dirty and the second battle of Fallujah had just reached its end. To stay healthy, she ran laps around the burn pit on base. After she got out of the military, she earned her doctorate—and a reputation for helping others through the hard stuff.
Kate Hendricks Thomas rappels from a tower while serving as a Marine. (Courtesy of Hendricks Thomas)
She mastered resiliency, co-writing a book about it and urging community, mindfulness, and physical health as she saw fellow service members and veterans struggle with combat stress. She gathers friends in close and offers praise and insight in large doses.
One day in 2018, in the middle of interviews and speeches about the books she had co-written, she went in for her annual gynecology exam.
“I was feeling great,” she says. “I had no symptoms. I was there for an annual appointment.”
“It was totally out of the blue,” Henricks Thomas says. “And that’s why I argued with her about it.”
She was 38. It was already stage four. And she doesn’t have one kind of cancer: She has three.
She has no family history of breast cancer, and when they looked for predictor proteins—“next generation sequencing”—she had no indicators. Worse, as she started talking with another Marine who served in her unit, Amy Ebitz, she learned Ebitz also had breast cancer, that it was also invasive, and that she also had no genetic markers.
“Somehow the topic of breast cancer came up, and we were both very surprised—very surprised,” she says. “Her physician said this is very likely an exposure-based cancer. And that’s what my oncologist said to me when the sequencing came back.”
Ebitz had served at Fallujah, but also says she lived half a mile away from the burn pit at al-Taqqadum in 2004. She started to become suspicious when two men from her unit were diagnosed with cancer, but before that, she wondered if something was going on when the working dogs in her unit started to get sick.
“The first tour, it was no big deal—we dealt with paw issues,” she says. “By the second tour, we kept losing dogs to cancer—three-year-olds. I remember the kennel master saying, ‘How long do you think before this will start on us?’”
Ebitz got a mammogram when she turned 40, and she was told it was clear. But she had a bad feeling. There were no lumps, but she felt “draggy.”
“I can’t explain it,” she says. “I didn’t have any symptoms. But I said to my battalion surgeon, ‘Something’s wrong with me.’”
Two years after the clear mammogram, she had more tests done. She had stage two cancer—and it was “just like Kate’s.”
“I had a seven-year-old son,” she says, and her daughter was three. “I was terrified.”
At that point, she said she thought it was a coincidence. Then she started thinking about a male major she had worked with who had breast cancer, and a male commanding officer who also had it.
“When I was going through treatment, the provost called and said one of his guys had non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma,” she says. She began to wonder if they had all been exposed to something in Iraq.
U.S. Marine Corps Sgt. Maj. Paul T. Costa, left, Headquarters and Support Battalion sergeant major, and Col. Amy Ebitz, middle, H&S Battalion commanding officer, give the Navy and Marine Corps commendation medal to Staff Sgt. John Stefanowicz, right, with the All-Marine Wrestling Team, on Marine Corps base Camp Lejeune, North Carolina in June. (1st Lt. Ace Padilla/U.S. Marine Corps)
For both Hendricks Thomas and Ebitz, their breast cancer was heterogeneous and moved quickly, which Hendricks Thomas says caused her doctor to suspect a toxic exposure. Her doctor also said she had been seeing more of it in military women.
“It was a fluke that she sent me out for that mammogram,” Hendricks Thomas says. “I mean, they wouldn’t have found this cancer until it kills me. She added years to my life by sending me out for screening. And I actually became a proselytizer and told all of my veteran girlfriends, ‘Please go get mammograms.’”
Ebitz, who served as battalion executive officer in Fallujah, said she didn’t talk about it at first—she didn’t want her Marines to know she’d had breast cancer. But then people started asking about her hair loss, and she decided to spread the word.
“Now that I’m a few years out, I tell everybody: ‘Get it checked,’” she says. “The enemy is lurking in our bodies.”
A Push for Testing and Benefits
Numbers for breast cancer in military women have been high for years, but as veterans returned from the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, rumors began to swirl: The cancers are hitting young—and they’re extraordinarily aggressive.
From fiscal year 2000 to fiscal year 2015, Veterans Affairs saw the number of women diagnosed with breast cancer increase by five times for women ages 45 to 64—or 3% of Veterans Health Administration patients in this age group—by fiscal year 2015, according to a VA report.
Authors said the increase could come because of better screening, or it could be a “true increase in prevalence.”
And a 2021 VA-funded research proposal by Rajeev Samant states this: “There is a notably high incidence of breast cancer among younger military women (20% to 40% higher). The incident rate of breast cancer for active-duty women is seven times higher than the average incident rate of 15 other cancer types across all service members. An estimated 90% of deaths due to breast cancer are a consequence of metastatic disease. Thus, metastasis is a formidable and clearly an unmet challenge.”
These young women are dying.
“Thus, there is an urgent unmet need to effectively diagnose, manage and cure breast cancer in the veteran population,” Samant’s proposal states. “Triple-negative breast cancer (TNBC) is prevalent among young women veterans, and shows a tendency to rapidly metastasize. Despite a short favorable management with chemotherapy, patients with metastatic disease have a median overall survival of about 18 months.”
As the last troops leave the “forever wars,” doctors say they’re seeing more women veterans with breast cancer—and they’re younger than the national average. This is of particular concern because doctors don’t tell women to get mammograms until they are 45, unless they have a family history of breast cancer.
Generally speaking, service members tend to have lower rates of all cancer compared to the civilian population, in part because they need to be fit for their jobs and they have access to healthcare. The new cancers are rare and aggressive, and the medical system built to help veterans simply isn’t equipped to handle breast cancer in young women, activists say.
So, some doctors and the women veterans themselves are pushing young women to get checked—and researchers are starting to look more deeply into environmental factors as a cause for aggressive, nonhereditary breast cancers whose growth is not driven by hormones. In the meantime, activists, like Hendricks Thomas, and politicians are pushing for service-connected VA benefits for women.
There have been some breakthroughs: VA says the rates may be higher because of better screening, higher rates of aggressive breast cancer in women in minority groups may get research attention that has lacked for generations, and a push to predict and treat breast cancer in military and veteran women could help other women around the world.
‘It’s Gotten Around Every Drug We’ve Thrown at It’
When Hendricks Thomas was diagnosed, she faced an immediate concern: She served as the breadwinner in her family, and she would need some help. Her first claim for service-connected benefits at VA was denied.
The change helps, as might the burn pit bill, but neither addresses breast cancer.
So it’s not enough for Hendricks Thomas. Beyond benefits, she wants to save lives.
She calls herself a “fangirl” of a VA oncologist she met at a conference, Anita Aggarwal of the Washington DC VA Medical Center, but adds, “She says she has young women coming into her office with this advanced breast cancer, this aggressive, advanced breast cancer. Mine is still heterogeneous”—resistant to treatment. “It’s gotten around every drug we’ve thrown at it in a matter of months, because it keeps morphing. And she said, ‘You know, that’s weird. That’s atypical, and I’m seeing lots of young women with that sort of thing happening.’”
The more she talks to others about her cancer, the more stories she hears: She recently met a woman younger than 30 who has both breast and colon cancer. She knows two women still on active duty with aggressive cancers, she says, and four veterans.
“I don’t understand why we haven’t lowered the screening age for military women,” she says. “I know it’s early, but ask your providers.” Women are often told by their primary care physicians at VA that they don’t need a mammogram yet, she says, and that there’s no additional risk. “So the VA is not even doing the preventive bare minimum. I mean, if all they were willing to do was lower the screening age, that would be a step forward.”
Military health care covers annual mammograms for women older than 40 or women 30 and over who are at high risk of developing breast cancer. Many Defense Department facilities have breast high-risk programs or breast genetics programs to help identify high-risk patients and screen them early, Defense Health Agency officials said in an email.
Kate Hendricks Thomas, left, and a friend during their time in the Marine Corps. (Kate Hendricks Thomas)
VA recommends that all women between age 50 and age 75 get mammograms every two years, but also that women have mammograms after age 40 if they choose to. However, VA does not perform mammograms in 15 states. A new bill hopes to address that.
“VA exceeds the private sector in mammography screening rates,” VA spokesperson Terrence Hayes said in an email, adding that VA’s rate of screening for women ages 50 to 74 is about 84%, compared to civilian HMO rates of about 74% in 2018.
“Like other health care agencies, we have seen some delays in routine screening related to COVID, but we are addressing this challenge by using a Preventive Health Inventory to ensure all our patients are up to date on all preventive screenings,” he says.
But VA officials say they don’t yet have data to support the women veterans’ fears.
“VA acknowledges recent individual reports of post-911 women veterans being diagnosed with breast cancer,” Hayes says. “We are following this issue closely. However, to date we have no research to support higher rates of breast cancer in post-911 women veterans following deployment.”
Hayes said Congress directed the Defense Department to look at the rate of breast cancer in active-duty women, and he quoted the abstract from that report, which says, “The findings from this study indicated that breast cancer among active service members is a rare event.” The abstract states that the breast cancer incidence rate from 2000 to 2010 did not change significantly.
The activists say that makes sense. As Stewart and Feal lobbied for first responders to the World Trade Center attacks in 2011, they learned service members were likely exposed to the same kinds of chemicals in the burn pits in Iraq and Afghanistan, they told The War Horse. Because the first responders were exposed to toxins before service members were exposed to the burn pits, Stewart and Feal said they expected some of the same patterns to emerge.
According to a CDC report released in September, 58% of people who signed up for the World Trade Center Health Program have reported at least one illness caused by exposure, and cancers had risen by more than 1,000% from 2013 to 2020.
In 2020, the top five certified cancer conditions were skin cancer, male genital system cancers, in situ neoplasms, breast cancer, and digestive system cancers, according to the report.
“The problem with cancer—with all of the cancers—is that you often deal with the delayed onset, as you know,” Hendricks Thomas says. Breathing problems or skin rashes from exposure often arise immediately. Cancer can take years. “So it’s easier to be dismissive of those.”
Staff Sgt. Brandi Williams, 374th Comptroller Squadron financial analyst supervisor, runs during the Breast Cancer Awareness Month 5K run at Yokota Air Base, Japan, in 2017. (Machiko Arita/U.S. Air Force)
The number of women in general, both civilian and military, diagnosed with breast cancer has increased—from 1 in 11 in 1975 to 1 in eight today—with the median age for diagnosis at 63 for white women and 60 for Black women. But active-duty military women have a 20% to 40% higher risk than do civilians, a 2009 study published by the National Institutes of Health found—and 90% of military women are younger than 40, according to the Defense Department’s Congressionally Directed Medical Research Program.
Younger women diagnosed with breast cancer have higher mortality rates.
In 2018, researchers looked at breast cancer in the Defense Department’s database. Typically, only 7% of breast cancer cases affect women younger than 40. But from 1998 to 2007, the researchers found 11% of diagnosed military cases were in women younger than 40. Their cancers tended to be later stage, and they also tended to be estrogen-receptor negative—like Hendricks Thomas and Ebitz.
A 2004 study published in the European Journal of Cancer Prevention found higher rates of breast cancer in women with a specific gene who had been exposed to a waste incinerator that, like the burn pits in Iraq and Afghanistan, would have released dioxins, as well as being exposed to agricultural products, such as pesticides and dioxin-like compounds.
In another 2018 study of women enrolled in the Clinical Breast Care Project at Walter Reed National Military Medical Center, researchers found “significantly” different levels of organochlorine levels—or synthetic pesticides—depending on the stage of the cancer and grade of the cancer, and whether it was hormone-positive, “indicating that the body burden of organochlorines may influence the development of specific subtypes of breast cancer.”
Colonels Amy and Curtis Ebitz pose for a picture with their children, Curtis and Sevina. In 2019, Colonel Amy Ebitz took command of Headquarters and Support Battalion, Marine Corps Installations East-Marine Corps Base Camp Lejeune, and Colonel Curtis Ebitz took command of Marine Corps Air Station New River.(Lance Cpl. Miranda DeKorte/U.S. Marine Corps)
Women who deployed to Iraq and Afghanistan, or anywhere the water source was considered risky, also drank water from plastic bottles. In Iraq and Afghanistan, those bottles often sat in the sun for hours. Research has shown that plastic that contains BPA may be associated with breast cancer.
And it’s not just women. Aggarwal found that breast cancer rates among male veterans have risen by 26% since 1975—though they still remain low. The concern? Women are taught to do monthly breast exams on themselves. Men are not.
‘It Was Turned Down Twice’
Experts have long known there was an issue, and some of the reasons seem pretty obvious: A 2012 study found a 40% increased risk of breast cancer in women who work night shifts—as military women often do. And military women are more likely than civilian women to work in jobs, such as mechanic or fuel operator, that might expose them to volatile organic compounds. A 2005 study found that military women younger than 35 working with VOCs had a 48% increased risk of breast cancer. The military has also had problems with contamination on base. Marine Corps base Camp Lejeune had the metal degreaser trichloroethylene and a dry-cleaning chemical, tetrachloroethylene, in the water. Civilians who worked there between 1973-1985 had higher rates of all cancers compared to people who worked at Camp Pendleton. Another study “suggested possible associations” between male breast cancer and the Camp Lejeune water. And another study found military women are also more likely to use birth control—it’s easy to get and it’s free—which has been associated with an increased risk of breast cancer in young, premenopausal women.
There has been some work around the possibility that the burn pits, in particular, may be causing fast-growing cancers. Aggarwal, the oncologist Hendricks Thomas met at a conference, has submitted a proposal to the Defense Department looking at the connection between exposures and breast cancer to see if it might help account for the increased incidence of breast cancer in military women.
“Very little evidence is available linking toxic exposures to increased breast cancer risk in veterans,” she writes in her proposal. “Study of breast cancer incidence associated with military occupational assignments, deployments, or other service-related experiences is greatly constrained by the latency between exposure and onset of cancer, as well as the Department’s inability to conduct surveillance on most service members after they leave service.”
She hoped to compare women veterans who deployed to those who did not.
“It was turned down twice—very discouraging,” Aggarwal said in an email. She also talked to two Congress members to try to push the issue. They promised to get back, but she “never heard anything from them.”
None of it should be new to the Defense Department, Hendricks Thomas says.
“[Aggarwal] shared her background section of her grant with me, and those data are from Walter Reed,” she says. “This is stuff that the military already knows.”
Hendricks Thomas says Aggarwal is the only VA medical professional she found who was willing to be open about the issue. She asked the nurse practitioner who originally told her to get the mammogram if she would help with her VA disability claim, but says the woman said no—that she didn’t want to put it in writing.
‘Just Sick With Something’
Hereditary cancer can also hit military women early. Just before Jessica Brooks turned 40 in 2018, she went in for her annual exam. At the time, she was going to school to become a nurse practitioner while she was in the Air Force. She had never deployed. She mentioned at the appointment that she could feel a swollen lymph node in her armpit, but she figured she was “just sick with something.”
But the lump in her armpit was bigger than it should have been—“It was the about the size of a golf ball,” she says, “and lymph nodes are typically about the size of your pinky”—and it was tender.
Soon after, she received a phone call saying she had cancer. She would ultimately learn it was stage three.
“I was like, ‘I’m young, what the heck?’” she says. “Nobody gets cancer this young.”
But in her case, while she didn’t have a strong history of breast cancer in her family beyond an 80-year-old grandmother, tests showed she did have a PALB2 mutation, she says. When her mother heard the news, she also went in—and her doctors found breast cancer, Brooks says.
As a service member, she says she had a choice between being seen at Walter Reed’s oncology center, or being seen locally. At the time, she lived in Maryland, so she went to the breast cancer center at Walter Reed.
Jessica Brooks as she goes through treatment for breast cancer. (Courtesy of Jessica Brooks)
“They are very well equipped to handle cancer,” she says. She now has a clean bill of health, and attributes that to good healthcare through the military.
Hendricks Thomas faced a different issue at VA in South Carolina.
“I didn’t go there, because they had only seen two women with breast cancer,” she says. “In D.C., I’m not able to quickly get scanned and quickly move things forward.”
She encountered a wait time for everything, she says, and she didn’t have time to wait.
“I needed a scan, and they said, ‘Great. We can fit you in in six weeks.’” With stage four cancer, a lot can happen in six weeks. She paid for civilian care, making her fight for benefits that much more important.
The House and Senate both introduced bills in July to help veterans access care by providing telemammography in states where VA doesn’t have mammograms, while also requiring VA to update those facilities within two years. The bills also require expanding veterans’ access to clinical trials.
Worse for Minority Women
There may be some good news in the mix: As the military studies service women, they look at women from all races. This is important because, in the civilian world, the death rate for Black women with breast cancer is 40% higher than the death rate for white women. It’s not much better in the military.
But the Defense Department is heavily involved in breast cancer research almost by default through the Defense Departments’ Congressionally Directed Medical Research Program. The program began in 1992 after breast cancer advocates pushed Congress to support high-impact, innovative research by the government. From that point on, Congress has funded the military’s Breast Cancer Research Program. In fiscal year 2021, the program received $150 million. The Uniformed Services University of the Health Sciences also has research programs.
A 2014 Defense Department report to Congress found that Black service women have a significantly higher probability of invasive breast cancer than do white and Hispanic active-duty service women. A 2019 study published in JAMA Surgery found that, from 1998 to 2008, Black women in the military health system waited longer for surgery after being diagnosed with breast cancer than did white women. But that still did not account for the disparity in overall survival rates, the authors wrote—and they urged further research.
“Treatment delays could lead to poorer treatment response, more rapid disease progression, or adverse health events and may contribute to reduced overall survival,” they wrote. They wondered why women who have access to health care in the military would still wait longer for treatment after being diagnosed with breast cancer. The Black women tended to be younger at diagnosis, were more likely to have stage II or III tumors and comorbid conditions, as well as more likely to have hormone-negative tumors, which means they can’t be treated by adjusting estrogen or progesterone levels. The majority—70% to 80%—of breast tumors are hormone-positive, according to the Susan G. Komen foundation. Women with hormone-negative breast cancer are usually diagnosed at younger ages and are less likely to survive it.
The non-Hispanic Black women were more likely to have died during the study compared to non-Hispanic white women.
New research on veterans and service members may help address that issue.
Jessica Brooks’ friends and coworkers help her recover from breast cancer. (Courtesy of Jessica Brooks)
About 700 women veterans a year are diagnosed with breast cancer, Hayes says.
As is often the case with health research surrounding veterans, environmental exposure statistics, as well as deeper research into minority women with cancer, may come to the forefront with new research.
One proposal comes as part of the Million Veterans Program, which now has 825,000 veterans signed up to offer information that can be used by researchers. Shiuh-Wen Luoh, of the Portland VA Medical Center, writes in a research proposal that 28% of the women in that group are Black, while past studies on genetic prediction models have typically been on white women.
“Our work will significantly enhance our abilities for early detection and optimize and individualize breast cancer screening for all women veterans and women in general,” he writes in his proposal. “Because women veterans in [the Million Veteran Program] may have unique military and environmental exposures, it is unknown whether previously developed breast cancer risk prediction models can be applied to this population,” the proposal states.
VA officials sent The War Horse a list of 27 current research projects that mainly focus on treatments and predicting breast cancer based on genetics.
‘As Normal a Life as Possible’
There have already been some breakthroughs.
In August, researchers figured out how to use deep machine learning for biomarker analysis to help detect and treat breast cancer—and it came about because of an ongoing collaboration among Google Health, Naval Medical Center San Diego, and the Henry M. Jackson Foundation for the Advancement of Military Medicine.
Also in August, research through VA’s Million Veteran Program found that, by looking at DNA, a genetic risk model could predict which people are at the highest risk to get breast cancer. Doctors could use this information to help women figure out how often to be screened and if there are other steps they need to take to prevent breast cancer.
A third study, published in August in Cancer Cell International, found that one new breast cancer vaccine may be helpful in battling cancer, while a second appears to create a strong immune response.
But Hendricks Thomas’s battle continues. She’s participated in clinical trials, and is hopeful for more, but each treatment eventually loses effectiveness. During another round of chemotherapy, she has again lost her hair. But she finds hope in the everyday.
“I’m trying to make good choices, because it’s just so hard,” she says. “Because if it was just me, I would stop treatment—I wouldn’t do this dance. It’s too much. And the drug side effects are too much. But I’ve always had to think of my son.”
After a flurry of treatments—each working for a bit, and then stopping—her activity was limited. She couldn’t travel to promote her books. She was too exhausted to keep her normal caseload.
“I miss the pace,” she says.
Still, she hangs onto her work as a piece of her identity, and she keeps her family close.
Kate Hendricks Thomas prepares to speak before Congress. (Courtesy of Kate Hendricks Thomas)
“I have to live as normal a life as possible and do the things that I know make a person able to balance,” she says. “Like right now, I’m in a particular period of lots of doctors’ appointments and lots of stress, and it’s easy to get dizzy, to get kind of down. So in those times, I know that I have to practice the self-care techniques that are going to regulate my nervous system.”
She’s been taking an online course in mindfulness. She’s working to be a good mother and a good partner. And she’s hopeful that her experience will help other women.
“I think it’s a pipe dream that the Rubio-Gillibrand bill would pass and I would actually get a disability rating,” she says. “That feels like a pipe dream. But if that happens, because of my advocacy work, that would be a huge blessing for my family.”
This summer, her VA claim was, in fact, approved, and she received full benefits for breast cancer related to toxic exposure, relieving some of the additional stress she faced.
And she goes to a support group for women veterans with cancer. Recently, the group’s caseworker spoke out in amazement: “‘You don’t want to talk about feelings,’” Hendricks Thomas remembers her saying. “‘You want to talk about what action you can take to move the ball forward on this issue.’ She basically call[s] us all weird. But the advocacy work has held me up in the last couple of months. I mean, writing and speaking, and just thinking about this has felt—I feel a sense of purpose with that. So that’s been nice.”
In the meantime, her son has started school with the normal flurry of backpacks and lunch pails and new pencils.
“He’s a little guy,” Hendricks Thomas says, and her smile goes wide. “He plays and he goes to school, and he keeps me grounded in the day-to-day and in the present moment. Because I have to be if I’m going to be with him.”
Credits
This article first appeared in The War Horse, an award-winning nonprofit news organization whose mission is to educate the public on military service.The story was reported by Kelly Kennedy, edited by Thomas Brennan, fact-checked by Ben Kalin and copyedited by Mitchell Hansen-Dewar.
This article was originally published by Public Health Watch, a nonprofit investigative news organization. Find out more at publichealthwatch.org.
For men and boys, caring about sport typically conjures images of passionate competition and fighting for the win. This understanding of care leaves little room for self-care, health and safety, and emotional vulnerability — topics that are fraught with risks for boys and men in a sports culture of hypermasculinity.
The National Hockey League Players’ Association recently released its First Line Program to support player mental health. It signals that men’s hockey is finally acknowledging the long-known fact that “a hockey player struggling with mental health would have done so in silence.”
“I’m a human being. I have feelings. Throughout my career and since I was born, I must have been in depression. Did I know it? No. did I do something about it? Obviously not, but I adapted.”
What we are seeing, then, is an overdue shift towards normalizing men and male athletes seeking help and gradually speaking more openly and vulnerably about mental health.
A Culture of Silence
There are severe problems with the culture of masculinity in men’s sport — one that means men and boys must adapt rather than seek help and tough it out rather than take a step back. This culture of silence and bullying means men and boys have been reluctant to speak up and speak out about safety and sexual assaults. It has created an environment where men and boys feel pressured to be silent about their own mental health.
On the same podcast, Henry said:
“You’ve been told since you were young, whether at home or in your job, ‘Don’t be that guy, don’t show that you’re vulnerable.’ If they cry, what are they going to think.”
This is a culture that sporting organizations are up against in their implementation of initiatives like the First Line Program.
We need to redefine what it means to care in men’s sport. And progress has been made. In addition to the NHLPA’s First Line Program, in September 2023 Hockey Canada hosted the Beyond the Boards Summit. This was an attempt to address “toxic masculinity” while simultaneously struggling to understand it.
Then, in October 2023, Hockey Canada issued a Dressing Room Policy to “enhance inclusion and safety” and “minimize occurrences of maltreatment, bullying, and harassment.”
While this is a sign of progress, there remains some reluctance to name issues such as sexual assault and homophobia when they occur.
On World Mental Health Day 2023, Norwich City Football Club launched a campaign, #youarenotalone prompting us all to check in on those around us.
Initiatives such as these speak to a form of caring masculinity that is vital if men’s sport is to be the space of support and mental health that it can be.
A Complex Relationship
At times, novel ideas are borne in times of crisis; only now are we starting to make sense of the socio-cultural impacts of the COVID-19 pandemic. The complex relationship between sport and boys’ mental health became apparent when sport facilities closed for social distancing measures, negatively impacting their social, mental and emotional health.
One boy from our study described his struggles during the pandemic: “I just kind of felt sad… not being able to go rock-climbing.” In a similar vein, Juventus coach Massimiliano Allegri spoke in October 2023 about how many of his players — including young academy players — were suffering with depression in the wake of the COVID-19 pandemic.
But this disruption has also forced boys to engage with their emotions. One boy told us: “I became way more in touch with myself and my emotions.” The same sentiment is echoed by Henry, who said of the pandemic:
“Something like that had to happen for me to understand vulnerability, empathy, and crying. Understand that anger and jealousy are normal… I was crying every day for no reason… it was weird, in a good way.”
What does this tell us about sport and mental health? Primarily that sport in its traditional guise does not provide space for men’s and boys’ vulnerability and mental health.
Cultivating Care In Men’s Sport
We can reimagine sport to be inclusive, diverse and safe, in order to tap into the positive potential of sports. But it requires redefining what it means to care. This does not mean discarding the importance of sporting competition, but rather recognizing and developing the potential for self-care and mutual support in men’s sport.
In our research with male athletes, we found that creating diverse sporting spaces facilitated open and vulnerable conversations, and promoted a culture of care and support that was important to these athletes.
These attempts at inclusion and diversity were not without their pains. The traditional culture of men’s sports sometimes reared its head making some men — particularly queer men — feel excluded, marginalized and unsafe. But the creation of spaces of emotional vulnerability and support nevertheless showed what is possible if the power of sport is harnessed and reimagined in novel ways.
Following this, I, like so many readers around the world, am feeling a profound sense of shock and loss. For much of my life, Munro’s stories have been a solace. As an introverted pre-teen, I felt seen by Lives of Girls and Women. Long before I learned to admire and study Munro’s technical mastery, I was grateful for the wisdom with which she wrote about girlhood.
As the stories about Munro shift and gather darkness, so, too, do the stories she authored. For me as a literature scholar, the question is not should we return to them, but how will we read them now?
As scholars re-read Munro with knowledge of the secrets she kept and the pain she caused, we have an opportunity — if not an obligation — to use our re-readings to reckon with the sexual abuse of children and the silence that so often surrounds it.
Alice Munro: ‘Lives of Girls and Women’
As culture writer Constance Grady argues, in the wake of so many recent public disclosures of great artists who have done terrible things, it feels naive to be shocked that Munro wrought such pain. It’s also humbling to recognize I’m shocked because I held her to a higher standard than other artists — because she is a woman who writes about the lives of women, because I, as a feminist, may have idealized her, and because I as a white woman found reading Munro to be such an intimate experience.
Part way through Lives, its protagonist, Dell, gives up the novel she is writing and commits herself to detailing “the dull, simple, amazing, unfathomable lives” of people in her town, describing “every last thing, every layer of speech and thought, … every smell, pothole, pain, crack, delusion, held still and held together — radiant, everlasting.”
When Munro died in May, this passage was invoked as an authorial manifesto. But two months later, Munro’s legacy looks very different, and so does her work. A new darkness suffuses the stories, colouring our understanding of their preoccupation with shame and the careful sustenance of secrets.
As poet and novelist Zoe Whittall writes, “Munro’s focus on these things “now seems less inspirational and more monstrous.” But she argues, “we can and should hold this complexity” while returning to stories that bolster our understanding of abuse and its afterlife.
If we are attentive and thoughtful, Whittall suggests, when we hear horrifying truths about Munro’s behaviour, and revisit worlds Munro revealed in her work, “stories like these can help us change the way we talk about familial reaction[s] to abuse.”
Questions About Biography, Culpability
I hope that’s true, but I’m wrestling with how to “hold” and handle this complexity. As a teacher, I spent 25 years prodding students to move beyond narrowly biographical readings anchored by the facts of a writer’s life.
After reading Skinner’s story in the Toronto Star, I returned to Open Secrets, published less than two years after Skinner wrote a letter to her mother revealing the abuse, and I re-read the final story, “Vandals.” It’s about Bea, a woman who knew, but did not admit, that her partner, Ladner, was a pedophile; it’s also about their neighbour’s daughter, Liza, who Ladner sexually abused.
In earlier readings I was taken with Munro’s use of taxidermy — its manipulation of bodies and its invitation to suspend disbelief — as a motif for the silence surrounding sexual violence in the story. But now awful biographical connections on every page stand out.
Munro’s children have been clear that their silence, their father’s silence and that of people who knew the family, was maintained to protect Munro’s reputation. So, it seems important that Munro’s legacy include a fulsome reckoning with the enormous cost of such silence alongside a reckoning with the complex ways that silence is manifested and mined in her work.
It starts with a letter that Bea begins to write — but never sends — to Liza, and it ends with Liza and her boyfriend trashing the home Bea shared with Ladner. The boyfriend asks Liza, “What did they do that made you so mad?” After a time, Liza says, “I already told you what she did to me. She sent me to college!”
The invitation to think about what Bea didn’t do for Liza was always clear, but Liza’s focus on Bea now resonates differently, attuning us to damage done by the woman who “made a bargain not to remember” horrific things. But, if, as has been suggested, the story now reads like an allegory and an apology, it is all the more disturbing for the knowledge that Munro never apologized to her daughter, that she blamed her, and protected her daughter’s abuser.
Failure To ‘Spread Safety’
“Vandals” ends with a description of dusk as “darkness collecting.” Years ago, I wrote that darkness owed much to the ways Munro renders the pedophile “more fearful for his lack of monstrosity,” his “very ordinariness.” That’s still true, but now I see it also has everything to do with Bea’s failure — and her author’s failure — to “spread safety.”
Skinner wrote, “I never wanted to see another interview, biography or event that didn’t wrestle with the reality of what had happened to me, and with the fact that my mother, confronted with the truth of what had happened, chose to stay with, and protect, my abuser.” Instead, she wants the fact of her suffering to “become part of the stories people tell about my mother.”
Those of us who teach or write about Munro’s stories, need to think about how to use our work to “spread safety” in the lives of girls and women, including through confronting complicity with harms. For me that starts with foregoing the careful distance of academic scholarship that confidently takes a text on its own terms. It means being willing to stumble in the darkness.
The idea that abortion causes physical and mental damage to those who choose it has permeated our culture for decades. But evidence shows pregnancy is the riskier state of affairs.
May 5, 2022
By Emily Willingham
Popular opinion holds that those who choose abortion suffer a variety of harms, from lifelong feelings of guilt and grief to future infertility to breast cancer and even death. Though unsupported by any evidence, the concept that abortion will damage pregnant people has become embedded in media and pervades our culture across the political spectrum as a basic truth.
Just look at the straight-talking ensemble TV show Sex and the City. When attorney Miranda Hobbes learns she is pregnant in 2001, an entire episode focuses on her decision to have an abortion. Carrie Bradshaw, the show’s lead character and a writer, had an abortion 13 years earlier, at age 22. Miranda asks her, “How long until you felt back to normal?” And Carrie responds, with tremendous pathos, “Any day now.” Miranda gets on a waiting list for the procedure; her doctor tells her she doesn’t do them, adding, “No judgment.” Miranda: “That’s the way she said it. Like it was all one word. ‘I-don’t-perform-them-no-judgment.’
” In the end, Miranda decides against the abortion, a decision met with joy by her three friends: “Three aunts were born,” Carrie says in the voiceover. On a modern show known for frank depictions of cosmopolitan women freely enjoying the sex lives of their choosing, the striking thing about this story line is its inclusion of common, but incorrect, wisdom about abortion: that the burden of having one lasts for years.
ABORTION: THE CONTEXT
The view that abortion harms those seeking it began percolating up after the U.S. Supreme Court legalized the procedure across the nation in 1973. At the time, the partisan divide on abortion access was not the unbridgeable abyss it is today. But as the years went on, conservatives began positioning themselves as the champions of “family values”; by the 1980s, efforts were in full swing to see Roe v. Wade overturned and abortion rights curtailed.
Meanwhile, religion-driven groups like Operation Rescue, founded in 1987, took the position that abortion constituted murder and began the practice of dramatically blocking access to abortion clinics. Completing the picture were the crisis pregnancy centers, or CPCs, that often positioned themselves as abortion clinics while in fact on a mission to prevent the practice. It was from these centers that claims of damage to abortion seekers were loudest of all.
Heartbeat International is a giant of the CPC world that put down its roots in 1971, anticipating that “legalized abortion would spread rapidly around the world.” Drawing support from Catholic and evangelical adherents, the group had a mission “to make abortion unwanted.” Today its hundreds of centers span six continents. Its sometime partner in these efforts, Care Net, began as the Christian Action Council, which established its first CPC in 1981 and says it now has 1,200 centers in the United States and Canada. Collectively, there are more than 2,500 CPCs in the United States, and in many states they far outnumber abortion clinics. Texas, for example, currently has some 21 abortion clinics and an estimated 203 CPCs.
The websites for these centers assure visitors that abortion carries dire risks for everything from infection to depression to thoughts of suicide. The centers have a reputation for drawing in clients seeking an abortion and then pressuring them to continue the pregnancy. That pressure can, in some instances, include deliberately offering false information. In one study of 32 CPCs in North Carolina, 86 percent were found to have false or misleading information on their websites, including false claims about “post-abortion stress.”
Some of that false information has created its own reality. One study tracked almost a century of abortion-related story lines in U.S. television and film, from 1916 to 2013. These have increased through the decades, with endings reflecting cultural attitudes. Before Roe v. Wade, adoption and pregnancy loss made up 4.4% of plot resolutions in shows addressing unwanted pregnancies. After 1973, 13.2% of such shows ended this way. Though we don’t have the latest metrics, any viewer can see that abortion is rarely the go-to choice in shows of today, much less a personal choice with positive outcomes.
Mental health effects are worsened by unwanted pregnancy and birth, not abortion.
THE REALITY
Some risks that CPCs try to tie to abortion, such as infection and heavy bleeding, are slight with abortion and actually much higher with pregnancy and delivery. For other claims that these anti-abortion groups make, such as increased risk of breast cancer, miscarriage, or death with abortion, the evidence does not support any linkage at all. And mental health effects are worsened by unwanted pregnancy and birth, not abortion.
Here are corrections to some of the most egregious claims:
What really seems to cause mental health distress is being denied an abortion, which is linked to increased risk for depression or anxiety. In a five-year study that tracked 877 pregnant people seeking abortions at 30 U.S. facilities, those who obtained an abortion were no more depressed or anxious at two years than those who had been denied one. Another analysis of the same study participants showed that those who’d been denied an abortion had acute spikes in anxiety and declines in self-esteem and life satisfaction.
These findings are in keeping with many earlier reports. One especially rigorous study was done in 2011 in Denmark, where health-care outcomes are carefully tracked for each person in the country. The authors found no change in how often people sought psychiatric care before and after having an abortion. This suggests that when obtaining an abortion is not held as a moral or religious failing, doing so doesn’t worsen mental health. Furthermore, these researchers found that people who did deliver a child had higher odds of seeking psychiatric care, especially just after the birth.
A large study from Finland, another country that carefully tracks health-care data, compared outcomes between teenagers who had an abortion and those who gave birth. The authors monitored 29,041 study participants until they reached age 25 and found no differences in psychiatric-related outcomes. What they did find was that people who had an abortion had fewer social and economic struggles. In yet another study, this one with 742 women in Sweden, anxiety declined and quality of life improved after abortion.
The American Psychological Society has concluded, on the basis of evidence from studies spanning decades, that denying people abortions has negative psychological consequences and that children born as a result of unwanted pregnancies are at risk for negative social and emotional outcomes.
CLAIM: Abortion increases risk of negative outcomes in subsequent pregnancies.
CORRECTION: Despite claims by religion-driven anti-abortion groups, studies going back decades show no link between abortion and miscarriage of a subsequent pregnancy. For example, a 1980 study in Denmark found no increase in risk for spontaneous abortion, usually defined as a first-trimester pregnancy loss, among people with a previous induced abortion.
The situation regarding preterm birth is more complicated. A 2016 meta-analysis—which takes findings from several studies with similar designs and evaluates them together—indicated a slightly increased risk for preterm birth for people who had had surgical abortion in the past; those authors wrote that surgical techniques might be to blame for risk increases. But a separate research team noted that many of the included studies hadn’t properly considered other factors that increase risk for preterm birth, including smoking and a short time between pregnancies. Note that these results relate only to surgical abortions. A 2018 analysis showed that preterm birth rates in subsequent pregnancies are lower when abortion is done via medication rather than surgery. Giving people early access to this abortion method is one way to minimize risk and cost.
CLAIM: Abortion carries higher medical risks than pregnancy and childbirth.
Every medical intervention—from an adhesive bandage to open-heart surgery—carries some risk, and abortion is no different. But anti-abortion groups overstate these risks and fail to highlight the much greater dangers of childbirth. Abortion-related risks for infection or bleeding are very small, and major complications even smaller, occurring in less than a quarter of a percent of procedures. A 2015 study of 54,911 abortions in California found that rates of major complications were 0.23 percent with medication abortion, 0.16 percent with first-trimester surgical abortion, and 0.41 percent for abortions after the first trimester.
Overall, abortion is much safer than childbirth. A 2014 study in Norway found that with medical abortion at home among 1,018 study participants, just one needed a transfusion because of significant hemorrhage. A careful review of 20 studies that included 33,846 women found that from three to six of every 10,000 individuals undergoing a medical abortion needed a blood transfusion. According to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, the rate of hemorrhage requiring a blood transfusion after childbirth was 39.7 for every 10,000 U.S. hospital deliveries in 2014.
Infections are similarly rare after abortion, with rates in one 2015 study
ranging from 0.20 to 0.27 percent, depending on the type of abortion. For comparison, rates of infection related to childbirth are 1 to 3 percent for vaginal delivery, 5 to 15 percent for scheduled cesarean delivery, and 15 to 20 percent for unscheduled cesarean delivery.
CLAIM: Legal abortion results in surprising numbers of maternal deaths.
CORRECTION: Claims about death from legal abortion could be the most overblown statistic of all. In the most statistically significant and extended study exploring this claim to date, researchers found that from 1988 to 2010, there were 108 deaths among 16.1 million legal abortions performed
in the United States, a mortality rate of 0.7 deaths per 100,000 procedures. That’s far less than the 8.8 deaths per 100,000 births, an almost thirteenfold difference. Studies show that pregnancy-related death rates climb in places where abortion access is restricted.
Pill-induced abortions appear especially safe, so much so that in the winter of 2021, the U.S. Food and Drug Administration made it possible for pregnant people to get the pills without going to a medical office. Today a clinician can prescribe the drugs remotely after a telehealth session. Some states, however, including Texas and Indiana, have made both illegal outright or after a certain number of weeks.
THE IMPACT
In the real world, people living in poverty and in rural areas are already losing abortion access. And evidence shows that those denied abortions experience increased risk for mental, physical, and economic harms.
In 2017 in the United States, almost one in five pregnancies ended in abortion. According to a 2018 report from the U.S. National Academies of Science, Engineering, and Medicine, 72 percent of people having abortions in the United States are under age 30, 85 percent are unmarried, and 75 percent are low income or below the federal poverty level. A majority (61 percent) are people of color.
Many states are establishing laws to limit abortion access. Texas now has a law that limits abortions to the first six weeks of pregnancy, when most people don’t yet have a clue that they’re pregnant. The Texas legislator who proposed the bill calls it the “heartbeat bill,” but the pulse that can usually be detected via ultrasound at six weeks reflects the rhythmic contractions of cells where the heart eventually will form; the full development of a functional heart does not happen until week 16. If the Supreme Court overturns or diminishes Roe, as many anticipate it will, a dozen states have “trigger laws” at the ready to immediately outlaw abortion, and several more are poised to enact similar legislation. Many of these laws are predicated on claims about the “harms” abortion can do to pregnant people. The reality is that the denial of abortions as a result of these laws poses far greater risk of harm.
THE BOTTOM LINE
The World Health Organization says that abortions are safe for pregnant people when they can be done, well, safely—with the right medication or the right person performing the procedure. The American College of Obstetricians and Gynecologists says that “abortion is healthcare” and lists many reasons why abortion might be needed, including contraceptive failure, intimate partner violence, rape, and illness during pregnancy. Sometimes pregnancy is life-threatening and abortion is the only thing that can prevent death. In all cases, the risk of negative mental and physical outcomes from abortion pale in comparison with the long-term risks of harm from abortion denied.
Sub-Saharan Africa’s burgeoning population of young people is considered one of its greatest untapped resources. Young men and women aged 15-24 constitute about a fifth of the total population. It’s a huge resource because, if well tapped, it could significantly drive productivity and growth.
Providing the requisite skills required by both current and future labour markets is one of the main challenges for governments. The big question remains, what’s the best way to tap this huge resource?
Typical of other sub-Saharan countries, Kenya has high youth unemployment rates. In 2019, the World Bank put the figure as high as 18.3% for those aged 15-24 years. A more recent tally from the Kenya National Bureau of Statistics put it at 10%.
Every year, between 500,000 and 800,000 youth enter the labour market in Kenya after leaving primary and secondary schools and post-secondary school institutions. Of those completing technical and vocational education and training, roughly 40% enter the labour market. However, there are concerns that skills acquired in these vocational training institutions do not meet the needs of potential employers.
For instance, the 2018 report of an employer survey found that 30% of Kenyan firms felt that a poorly skilled workforce was a major barrier to their growth. The corresponding figure in 2007 was 3%. Generally, youth graduating from these institutions have difficulties accessing, creating and retaining jobs.
This mismatch between youth skills and labour market expectations makes it challenging for young people to succeed in the world of work. But there is a dearth of research about the level of academic skills. More importantly there is little information on the soft skills acquired by youth in Kenya’s technical and vocational training institutions.
This is important because there is evidence from developing country contexts that a whole youth development approach is vital for skill acquisition. This approach is premised on the notion that for youth to be productive and improve their well-being, they should develop holistically. This includes social, physical, educational, emotional, spiritual, ethical, and psychological development.
In a study conducted in 2018-2019, we examined what skills those leaving training institutions had. Such information could inform the skills development policy in Kenya. In summary our findings show that whole youth development is not well integrated within the training curriculum as well as within training practices.
We also found that Kenya’s youth skills development perpetuates inequality. The system is well-resourced for urban and well-off families, but leaves the poor and mostly rural youth inadequately prepared, if at all, for the labour market.
The Landscape
Kenya has three types of post-school skills training institutions. National polytechnics, which offer higher diplomas, are at the top of the pyramid. Below them are technical training institutes and vocational training centres. The first two types are funded by the national government, though there exist private technical training institutes. Vocational centres are mainly funded by county governments but increasingly by a variety of non-governmental entities.
In 2018, total enrolment in these institutions was estimated at 363,844, spread over 1,400 institutions. The institutions are managed under a 2013 law. A competence-based education training curriculum was initiated in 2019.
Our study relied on primary data from a survey of 182 institutions – at all three levels – spread across nine counties. We used questionnaires, assessment tools and focus group discussions to collect information from trainees, instructors, institutional managers and technical staff at the education ministry.
Our study revealed three important drivers of whole youth development. These are individual qualities, community influences and supply side factors, such as funding.
The Findings
Our multilevel analysis results show that at the individual level, age and gender play a leading role in the acquisition of holistic skills. For instance, older youth exhibit better life and emotional skills compared to those younger. This could be due to their length of exposure to their lived environment and experiential learning.
On the other hand, overall, male youth exhibit higher acquisition of holistic skills than female youth. This difference could be explained by gender stereotyping where boys and girls are socialised differently based on societies’ preconceived ideas of what they should be in future. Consequently, it is not unusual for boys to experience greater exposure to activities related to science, technology, engineering and mathematics during their life course.
That said, female youth do better in life skills and emotional skills than male youth. This could explain employers’ preference for female employees for jobs such as public relations, human resources and early grade teaching that require use of emotional skills.
From a community influence perspective, we found that socio-economic and geographical location of the youth matter a lot. Students from well off families and those from well off counties, if not both, demonstrated higher acquisition of holistic skills than those from disadvantaged backgrounds.
In fact, the influence of the family background is so strong that there was no difference in acquisition of skills among youth from advantaged social economic background who attend vocational centres, the lowest level of training, and those who attend national polytechnics, highest level.
Acquisition of Holistic Skills for Kenya’s Youth
This matters because if employers screen potential employees for acquisition of holistic skills, youth from disadvantaged backgrounds are likely to remain longer out of employment. This may also create a huge social gap between those entering paid employment and those entering self-employment. Indeed, a recent UNDP human development report 2019 warned that
“Children from poor families may not be able to afford an education and are at a disadvantage when they try to find work. These children are likely to earn less than those in higher income families when they enter the labour market, when penalised by compounding layers of disadvantage”.
In the third category of influencers is resources. Managers of national polytechnics (57%) and technical training institutions (44%) reported having adequate equipment. This compared to only 22% of managers in the vocational training centres. The two also enrolled youth with relatively good grades compared to vocational training centres.
The majority of vocational centres on the other hand are located in rural areas, mainly accessed by poor rural youth, and are not properly equipped. These dynamics of resourcing training institutions play out in the acquisition of whole youth development skills and create inequalities that could last through generations.
Implications For Policy
Our results have stark implications for policy and research. First is the need for post-school training policies and institutions to be seen to close the possible growing gap in acquisition of whole youth development skills based on social economic backgrounds as this could alienate a section of the population.
Second, it would be important to create effective linkages between training institutions and industry. This is especially in rural centres as they play the key role of preparing young people to transition into work places.
Over the past decade, virtual assistants powered by artificial intelligence, like Apple’s Siri and Amazon’s Alexa, have become integral to technologies such as smartphones and social media.
More recently, a new type of human-like chatbots are on the rise: AI romantic companions. Chatbots are AI-powered programs that engage with humans through text, voice and images.
Currently, over 100 AI-powered applications — such as myanima.ai, Eva AI, Nomi.AI and Replika — offer romantic and sexual companions with extensive personalization options, including physical and personality features. Exhibiting remarkable realism, adaptability and interactive fluidity, these AI chatbots can progressively evolve through conversation, fine-tuning their responses to match users’ interests, needs and communication styles.
Modern AI chatbots have increasingly human-like qualities that raise users’ propensity to engage and form emotional bonds — even to the point of falling in love.
Exacerbated by COVID-19 pandemic restrictions, loneliness has led more people to use AI as a substitute for counsellors, friends and romantic partners.
Chatbots: Romantic Partner Substitutes
Research shows AI chatbots can offer companionship, ease loneliness and boost positive emotions with supportive messages. Chatbots also provide a judgment-free space for open conversations and advice when other resources are scarce. People can also form intimate and passionate connections with AI that are similar to human relationships.
Research repeatedly suggests that humans can form genuine emotional bonds with AI, even if they acknowledge it is not a “real” person. Although many people appear to derive psychological benefits from using chatbots, the potentially harmful consequences of these relationships remain unclear.
Dark Side of AI Love
Romantic chatbots are programmed to offer a unique form of companionship, with constant availability and seamless interactions while avoiding conflict and the need for compromise. This raises concerns about the impact on users’ expectations regarding human romantic and sexual relationships.
Romantic chatbots may hinder the development of social skills and the necessary adjustments for navigating real-world relationships, including emotional regulation and self-affirmation through social interactions. Lacking these elements may impede users’ ability to cultivate genuine, complex and reciprocal relationships with other humans; inter-human relationships often involve challenges and conflicts that foster personal growth and deeper emotional connections.
The customizable nature and constant availability of AI companions can also lead to social isolation and emotional dependency. Researchers suggest that extensive engagement with AI companions might cause individuals to withdraw from their immediate environment and reduce their motivation to build new, meaningful social connections. Users may also come to overly rely on these digital entities for emotional support, companionship or sexual need fulfilment.
A notable example occurred in 2023 when Replika removed the sexual roleplay capabilities of its AI companions. This change significantly altered the personalities of existing Replikas, causing considerable user distress. Many users felt betrayed and rejected, and reported a profound sense of loss. Due to the outcry, Replika quickly reinstated the functionality for existing users.
Even more concerning is that many of these apps are packed with thousands of trackers that monitor user activity on their devices for marketing purposes. Another recent study on 21 AI romantic companionship apps revealed similar privacy concerns.
Enhancing Romantic Well-Being
Although empirical data is still emerging, AI-driven sexual interactions could offer a safe, low-risk alternative to sexual and romantic relationships. Romantic and sexual chatbots hold particular promise for individuals experiencing major challenges in establishing satisfying romantic relationships due to illness, bereavement, sexual difficulties, psychological barriers or mobility impairments.
AI technologies could also be leveraged for sexual and romantic exploration among marginalized communities or among individuals that are socially isolated.
Additionally, chatbots can be used as a romantic socialization and research tool, helping individuals create bonds and improve their interactional skills. For example, research has shown their effectiveness in enhancing emotional communication among long-distance couples, while ongoing studies are exploring their potential to help individuals manage distress from being ghosted on dating apps.
As researchers at EROSS lab, located at the Université du Québec à Montréal, one of our ongoing studies assesses the use of chatbots to help involuntary celibates improve their romantic skills and cope with rejection.
Despite promising clinical applications, current sex research on the use of chatbots mainly focuses on sexual health education, covering topics like sexually transmitted infections and reproductive health.
Relationship Revolution
Current advances in AI technologies are marking a new era for intimate romantic and sexual relationships. AI chatbots can offer personalized romantic and emotional fulfilling interactions, with promising opportunities to alleviate loneliness, enhance romantic skills and provide support to those struggling with intimacy.
However, they also raise privacy issues and important ethical concerns that underscore the need for an educated, research-informed and well-regulated approach for positive integration into our romantic lives. But current trends indicate that AI companions are here to stay.
The impulse to look out for other people can be hijacked to spread confusion and misinformation.
April 28, 2023
By JoBeth McDaniel
At a recent party, a stranger standing next to me spoke up suddenly when a snazzy ad for an electric vehicle appeared on the television. “EVs harm the environment way more than gas cars,” she announced to the room.
“Well, no,” I responded. “I have an EV, and it’s not even close. Gas cars are much worse for the environment.”
Then she moved closer to me, as if confiding a dark secret, and said, “By driving an EV, you are killing small children in Africa.” I’d done enough research to know her statement was false, yet it still felt like a punch to the gut. I second-guessed myself. Had I missed something? Was I causing harm without realizing it? All I could muster was a murmured, “No, no, that’s not true,” before backing away from the conversation.
Weaponized Empathy: Preying Being Good
I realize now my experience was distressingly common. As electric vehicles become more common, so does misinformation about them—especially outdated or false details designed to tug on our heartstrings. I call those myths “weaponized empathy,” because they prey on our desire to do good in the world. This phenomenon goes beyond electric vehicles. The same type of weaponized misinformation drives public perception on reusable shopping bags, plant-based meat alternatives, electric stoves, and a host of other green initiatives.
I don’t know the motives of the woman I met. Maybe she was genuinely concerned about children, maybe she was politically opposed to the environmentalism associated with EVs. Either way, the result was the same: Weaponized empathy is a potent way to turn people’s better impulses against them.
After that party encounter, I got curious about where the woman got her “facts” about electric vehicles and did a little digging. It didn’t take long to find a trove of online stories featuring slanted or outdated information. Many of them exactly matched the party woman’s narrative, focusing on terrible conditions in mines in the Democratic Republic of Congo, a mineral-rich nation devastated by a recent civil war. The stories also exposed a key tool of weaponized empathy, using a smattering of true details to build a misleading or outright false narrative.
The full story about cobalt mining reveals a lot about how weaponized empathy works. In smaller mines in the Congo, children as young as six years old dig for cobalt, a metal used in batteries for electric vehicles, cell phones, and other electronics. Their suffering is real, and appalling. What’s missing in the anti-EV narrative is the essential context.
Cobalt mines existed long before the EV boom, since the metal has many industrial applications, including alloys for gas turbines, drying agents for paint, and catalysts for refining petroleum. More recently, newer technologies have greatly reduced the amount of cobalt and lithium used in batteries. Today, more than half of Tesla’s new batteries are completely cobalt-free.
Propoganda
By nearly every measure, a gasoline-powered vehicle creates far worse environmental, health, and social problems than an equivalent electric vehicle. Oil and gas corporations clear-cut forests and foul water supplies, often with the blessings of governments more interested in payoff than in the wellbeing of citizens (including children). No coincidence, those corporations also spread negative propaganda about EVs, the electrical grid, and battery recycling.
Research confirms that audiences are more likely to believe emotional news, even if it is false.
Once I began looking, I saw misleading claims that EVs mostly run on coal-generated electricity (nope), or that the world might soon run out of lithium (nope). Although forced labor is a problem in industries worldwide, there is scant media attention when fossil fuel corporations are involved. Studies show electric vehicles are far less likely to catch fire or explode than gas-engine vehicles—but when a Tesla crashed and burned on a street near me, three television helicopters whirred overhead, accompanied by “Breaking News!” reports.
Jevin West, co-founder of the University of Washington’s Center for an Informed Public, notes that misinformation is particularly effective when it contains an emotional appeal. “Stories that tug at empathetic strings get lots of clicks,” he says. The group QAnon has used this technique to draw people in by promoting shocking but false claims about human trafficking. “They hijack that as a way of pushing other distorted ideas,” West says, “taking time and energy away from the organizations that really are stopping human trafficking.”
Two Sources of Emotion
Weaponized empathy operates at the intersection of two sources of emotion: the state a person brings to the material, and the content of a news item itself. The ultimate response, according to Cameron Martel, a researcher at the MIT Sloan School of Management, can distract people from thinking about the accuracy of a story, making them more susceptible to misinformation. Martel’s research confirms that audiences are more likely to believe emotional news, even if it is false. “People want to share things that are new and exciting,” he says. “If it’s false, it may seem more new and more exciting.”
Emotional appeals are even more persuasive when the reader has knowledge gaps. Because mainstream electric vehicles are fairly new, those gaps can be enormous among the general public. I can’t count how many times I’ve been told the U.S. will “run out of electricity” if people keep buying EVs. Studies have repeatedly shown that isn’t true. Electric vehicles are mostly charged during non-peak hours, when there is an abundance of electricity on the grid. Some of the newer EVs can even perform bi-directional charging to bolster the power grid by storing energy in low-demand times for use during high-demand hours.
What we’re seeing could be called “tarwashing”: an effort to tar the products that are greener and more sustainable.
On sunny days in my home state of California, renewable power already fuels the majority of our daytime electricity needs. The big challenge we face is insufficient electricity storage. EVs could fill some of that gap and help renewable sources deliver power 24/7. But these facts tend to fall flat when people remember the anxiety caused by recent power outages, and worry about anything that sounds like it might cause them to happen again.
Meanwhile, there is an entire PR industry working to confuse the public about where the real problems lie. Media analysts often use the term “greenwashing” to describe a public relations campaign used by a large corporation to pretend that its practices are good for the environment. What we’re seeing now could be called “tarwashing”: an effort to tar the products that are greener and more sustainable. Are fossil fuel companies funding deliberate disinformation about EVs?
Empathetic Myths
Gil Tal, Director of the Electric Vehicle Center at the University of California, Davis, points to studies from dubious think tanks. “I’m 100% sure it is not random,” he says. He also warns about misinformation claiming that there’s a much better technology right around the corner. Hydrogen is a good example. It sounds like a miracle fuel (energy from water!) but today’s hydrogen requires a lot of electricity to produce, and typically releases significant quantities of hidden carbon emissions.
All of these empathetic myths can give people a blanket excuse to be against EVs, whether due to politics or simply fear of the unknown. “If I don’t want to buy electric, I will justify it to myself with all of this, even if I deeply know I haven’t done much checking into this,” Tal says.
I told West about my experience with the woman at the party and asked if he had any suggestions about better ways to react. He replied that when he encounters misinformation, he often responds with a question: Where did you find that information? “That gets them to self-reflect; it starts the conversation without much animosity and engages them in an authentic way,” he says.
Starting with a question also acknowledges that no one is immune to misinformation, even those who study it. “We are better-informed consumers when we are aware that our empathetic strings are being pulled all the time. If you read an emotional headline, check into your emotions,” West adds. When you read a headline that makes you outraged, he advises, take a deep breath and look more closely at the sources before hitting the “share” button. Martel at MIT also recommends checking the date of any story before sharing. The problem of outdated, misleading information can also be turned into a question: When did that happen?
The Battle Against Misinformation
Martel argues that it is important to speak out in appropriate public settings, because of a phenomenon known as “Third-Party Social Correction.” On social media, you may not be able to change the mind of the person sharing the misinformation, but your response may reach many other, more open-minded people who see your correction. Speaking up at a party could have the same effect. Lateral reading – doing more research outside of that initial report – can help direct you to the crucial missing context. “Do a Google search of where the article is getting its main claims,” says Martel.
The battle against misinformation can feel relentless, but Tal ends our conversation on a hopeful note. He anticipates that EV myths will become less effective as the vehicles become more common and people see friends and neighbors driving them. Tal is also heartened that all 50 states and most communities across the US are aggressively seeking government money to build charging stations. “Small electric utilities have been very proactive in installing chargers,” he says, bringing familiarity with EVs even to the most remote parts of the country.
Everywhere he goes, Tal hears the changes taking place. “People will tell me all the crazy conspiracy theories, but then they’ll say, ‘Oh yes, we need to get ready for electric cars. Not for me, but my son, my grand kid, my wife will buy one.’” Those responses suggest another, more positive empathy response at work: A genuine desire to see our children, our neighbors, and even total strangers living in a greener, healthier world.
D. Watkins and Nia Johnson: Not Just Surviving, but Thriving
There’s often a vast chasm between people’s moral aspirations and the things they need to do just to survive in a brutal world.
February 1, 2024
By Corey S. Powell
Morality goes hand in hand with empathy. If you imagine the worst about other people, you can justify nearly any awful behavior; if you try to understand other people’s motivations, it becomes easier to summon kindness and generosity. But the lofty form of “moral imagination” requires space for calm contemplation—a luxury that many people don’t have.
Nia Johnson is an assistant professor of social work at West Chester University in Pennsylvania, where teaching her students how to imagine the moral is part of her daily job. D. Watkins is the bestselling author of Where Tomorrows Aren’t Promised and We Speak for Ourselves. His writing draws heavily on his experiences growing up in East Baltimore. In this podcast, hosted by OpenMind co-editor Corey S. Powell and supported by the Pulitzer Center, Johnson and Watkins explain why moral acts are contingent on the circumstances of life, and reflect on what it takes to put ourselves in others’ shoes. (This conversation has been edited for length and clarity.)
Nia, I’d like to start with your thoughts on the meaning of “moral imagination” from the perspective of social work.
Nia Johnson: It’s essentially what social work is and what we are tasked to do. Moral imagination is creatively imagining the full range of options while you’re making moral decisions, so it requires us to consider somebody’s social context. As a social worker in my profession, it’s imperative that we do that; it’s imperative that we take the context of society, the neighborhood, and the oppressive systems that are impacting this person. Just the day-to-day life and the things that this person is coming up against. The reasons why folks are making certain decisions, and realizing that oftentimes people have to choose between a bad and a horrible choice.
You have a beautiful statement of purpose on your website: As stated by Maya Angelou, “My mission in life is not merely to survive, but to thrive.” I’ve always been acutely aware that this pursuit is made harder for some of us than for others. And I remain inspired by the ability of many of us to persevere. There’s limitless potential within social work to transform lives, communities and policies. What does it take to step beyond the moral framework we were born with, to transform ourselves?
Nia Johnson: For those of us with certain privileges, it takes us stepping out of our bubbles to understand what’s going on with other folks, and why they’re making certain decisions. Being a Black girl from Baltimore, there are certain things that I have experienced, but also my parents were college grads. And that’s a different experience, right? I’m an academic and a tenure-track professor, and I’m aware that there are certain privileges that I have and certain experiences that I just don’t know. So it’s incumbent upon me to step outta that bubble and to learn and to understand, not in a condescending way, but pushing back on those oppressive systems that are limiting the capacity for people to imagine.
D, you’ve shared some intense stories about difficult moments in your childhood. Can you talk about how growing up in East Baltimore affected the way you saw moral acts?
D. Watkins: I’ve been fascinated with this story because moral imagination was part of my hero’s journey. When I was coming up and hanging out on the block, the toughest kid in the neighborhood, Burger, bullied me. So I figured out a way to get him back. I put a lock in a sock and I busted his head, and I did it while everybody was watching: “You can’t bully me.” Then when he was about 20, someone shot Burger and he got murdered. Then I thought about his family and I thought about all of this stuff he went through, and I thought about the ways in which he had to have this bravado because he didn’t have some of the things that my friends and I had. He didn’t have the new Air Jordans. He didn’t have a Game Boy. He didn’t have new clothes on Easter. He wore his brother’s hand-me-downs. So his resiliency was his toughness.
I’m not saying that a young kid is supposed to be able to analyze these things. I was just a child. But we are responsible for how we reflect on these, on these different things. I felt like I didn’t have a choice; I had to make that decision for my survival. For years I carried that around as if I won some sort of championship, but in actuality, what I did to him made me sad. I realized that I didn’t have to make that decision. I’m literally a part of the problem if I’m telling that story as if I was a hero and I did something that was so great. However, the flip side of that, which makes it even more complex, is that I didn’t have many options because I would’ve been eaten by that community because those were the rules that existed inside that society at that particular time.
Was there a particular moment or an incident that made you go back and rethink that memory and look at it differently?
D. Watkins: This is gonna sound really sappy, and I don’t want your listeners to throw tomatoes at their devices, but I want to be a better person, and I’m on a journey and I’m trying to become a better person. Part of that journey is me realizing a lot of the false things, a lot of the wrong things, and a lot of the bad things that I’ve done, bad ideas that I’ve bought into, the things that exist that make our society toxic. I want to try to undo a lot of that. I’ve been doing that through my writing. I’ve been doing that as a mentor. I’ve been doing that as I spend time with people working their way through difficult situations themselves. I don’t want my nephews to look up to me because I used to be a street guy. I want them to look up to me because when I’ve had the opportunity to do the right thing, I did the right thing.
Thriving is done when you have the space to imagine, the space to reflect.
Nia, what are your thoughts on the tension D discusses between surviving and thriving?
Nia Johnson: Listening to D, the story is unfortunately not super-unique in terms of what people have to experience and the options that people are faced with. I am out here self-actualized, doing yoga, sipping my peppermint tea, and I don’t ever curse anyone out. I think that sometimes the thriving part requires not having to just survive. Sometimes the thriving is done when you have the space to imagine, the space to reflect. I have the space to think through things and teach my child when people aren’t coming after me. A lot of D’s stories speak to the kind of duality you’re faced with when what you feel is right is different than how you have to present in this world to survive. You don’t have the space to thrive if you don’t have the space to exist outside of that box. That’s life or death in certain circumstances.
D, in your OpenMind essay you write about another childhood episode when your father perpetuated a scam to get a big-screen TV for your family. How did that influence you?
D. Watkins: If everyone in the neighborhood weren’t buying big TVs, would my dad have needed that TV? Did he feel like he’s not taking care of his family the way other neighbors are because they have those big TVs and we didn’t? Well, he decided he’s gonna do what he has to do. So he went to Circuit City to apply for credit. He didn’t get approved for enough, but his friend told him about this little scam where if someone distracted the person who was working at the store, you could change numbers on the application. If you got approved for $500, you can put a 1 in front of the 5, and it looks like you got approved for $1,500.
Later I would find out we got a little extra credit because it was my social security number that my dad used. I was horsing around with my friends and I broke the TV. I told him, “I broke the TV.” And he was like, “No, you broke your TV.” He did something that he normally wouldn’t do. I don’t try to justify his actions. I just try to show the perspective of a person who feels like it’s morally OK to score these temporary wins and these small luxuries because they’ll never have that big house and that big flashy car, that trip to Europe. He was willing to risk and sacrifice his freedom for that feeling.
I think of moral imagination as a double-edged sword. It allows you to project onto other’s aspirations of how you want to behave. But it also allows you to project onto them your imagination of the worst things that they could be. In that sense, can moral imagination be a misuse of empathy?
Nia Johnson: I would venture to say that when you are misusing empathy, then it’s no longer empathy. Then you get into manipulation of understanding for your own personal gain. This might sound a little corny but feeling a certain way about a group of people who look a certain way requires self-awareness and you have to be honest with yourself that you have these thoughts or that you don’t understand. It’s really about sitting down and looking at what you really think. Wherever we go, there we are. I can say that from a place of privilege, my lights are on. I live in a comfortable house. I literally get paid to think these things and pontificate and write about all this stuff. But the hope is that I do that with the outcome of making space for other folks to expand their imagination. That expanded imagination, and that empathy, is like a muscle.
I see a lot of people latch onto conspiracy theories and misinformation to avoid aspects of the world, and of themselves, that they don’t want to examine too closely. I get it; honest self-awareness can be difficult and scary. Do you have any advice to help people do the hard work?
D. Watkins: I think one, you have to realize who you are in a self-audit. A lot of moral imagination, in my humble opinion, is driven by who’s watching. I would not have had to attack that kid if no one was watching. That kid did not bully us when it was just us. He bullied us when it was a block full of people.
Nia, a key part of your work consists of trying to help people change perspectives. Have you developed techniques to make it easier?
Nia Johnson: There are certain tools and frameworks that people use. D mentioned the self-audit, which I feel is a long-term investment. It’s difficult to decide between the short term and the long term, but giving people space to be heard and to listen and to learn is the most important part. It doesn’t mean you have to go through all your personal traumas. It just means that you’ve allowed yourself to have space to be human and then given somebody else that space, too.
There’s no finish line, there’s no destination.
When Barack Obama gave his Nobel lecture, he commented that the “non-violence practiced by men like Gandhi and King may not have been practical or possible in every circumstance, but the love they preached, their faith in human progress must always be the north star that guides us on our journey.” That’s his definition of moral imagination: aspiring toward an idealized version of yourself. What do you think of that lofty goal?
D. Watkins: It’s beautiful when we pull back and realize that Gandhi wasn’t perfect. King wasn’t perfect. Obama wasn’t perfect. Alfred Nobel invented dynamite, even though they named the Peace Prize after him. He was not a perfect person. Not to say that we don’t need dynamite, but none of us are perfect. At the end of the day, we can try our best and we can try to grow as we try to encourage the people around us to grow as well, but with love and, and not judgment. It’s important to say that even the people who look perfect aren’t perfect. We all can be better, and we all can try. We’ll never be perfect, but it doesn’t mean that we shouldn’t try our best to be the best people that we can be.
Nia, what are your thoughts on this type of moral imagination?
Nia Johnson: My response is the opposite of D’s, as if to a little child. When you were reading that quote, it made me think of the movie Finding Nemo when Dory said, keep swimming, just keep swimming. It’s something that like that I’ll say sometimes to folks, you know, just keep swimming. It’s not about, OK, I’ve done all of this work and now I have the moral high ground and I make these ethical decisions. No, it’s bit by bit. It’s about, in this situation, I made that decision. Ooh, let me think that through. Maybe I’ll do it differently next time, and then in the next situation, maybe you do it a little better, whatever better is. Because better shifts depending on the context sometimes. At certain points in folks’ lives, and in whatever context, they made certain decisions and believed certain things and thought certain things were right and wrong, and then they shift and grow and you just progress bit by bit. Then as you progress, you are not allowing yourself to feel higher than others and say, oh, come on, you need to come up here with me. But instead, it is maybe more along the lines of, I’m figuring myself out. How about you figure yourself out too? I can help you along the way.
In different ways, you’re both talking about the idea that real-world morality is not about absolutes. D, it’s a lot to ask, but can you share any lessons to guide people through the challenges of moral flexibility?
D. Watkins: I can take a shot at it. It’s important to understand that everyone is on their own journey. We should try to be the best people we can be while giving ourselves the grace to fall short. But we should also extend that grace to other people as they try, because, you know, at the end of the day, we’re all growing, we’re all changing. There’s no finish line, there’s no destination. We are just here and we should experience and enjoy and love each other as much as we can.
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