On the fourth anniversary of the downturn, two industries account for an outsized share of total job losses
Four years ago this month, the United States entered the great recession. Although it officially ended in June of 2009*, we still haven't come close to fully recovering, as Friday's jobs report reiterated. Since December of 2007, non-farm payrolls in the United States have shrunk by roughly 6.8 million jobs. And as Derek Thompson noted earlier today, at the rate of today's job growth, we could still be a long, long way off from reaching full employment.
But the recession didn't hit every industry with the same ferocity. Take healthcare, which now employs roughly 1.4 million more people now than at the end of November 2007. Mining and logging has grown by 83,000 workers. Most major industries, though, are still far down from their 2007 peaks. Using Bureau of Labor Statistics data, we've graphed out the changes in several key employment sectors. You can check out the 2007 stats here and the 2011 numbers here.
Construction and manufacturing, each down more than 2 million jobs, are the big obvious losers. But to get a proper sense of how poorly they're doing, I isolated the job-losing industries from the left hand side of that graph.
The next chart shows the percent of all job losses contributed by each industry. (The sectors that gained jobs -- the ones on the right hand side above -- aren't included in this data set.) Together, these industries have shed just shy of eight million employees.
The percentages aren't a huge surprise: Manufacturing and construction make up more than half of all job losses since the start of the recession. White collar workers in industries such as finance haven't been immune. But the recession and painstakingly slow recovery have absolutely slammed industries traditionally dominated by high school educated males. Both in relative and absolute terms, they've seen the worst of this economy. And four years after things began to slide, those workers are still in a lot of pain.
Three Atlantic staffers discuss “The Winds of Winter,” the tenth and final episode of the sixth season.
Every week for the sixth season of Game of Thrones, Christopher Orr, Spencer Kornhaber, and Lenika Cruz discussed new episodes of the HBO drama. Because no screeners were made available to critics in advance this year, we'll be posting our thoughts in installments.
It happened gradually—and until the U.S. figures out how to treat the problem, it will only get worse.
It’s 2020, four years from now. The campaign is under way to succeed the president, who is retiring after a single wretched term. Voters are angrier than ever—at politicians, at compromisers, at the establishment. Congress and the White House seem incapable of working together on anything, even when their interests align. With lawmaking at a standstill, the president’s use of executive orders and regulatory discretion has reached a level that Congress views as dictatorial—not that Congress can do anything about it, except file lawsuits that the divided Supreme Court, its three vacancies unfilled, has been unable to resolve.
On Capitol Hill, Speaker Paul Ryan resigned after proving unable to pass a budget, or much else. The House burned through two more speakers and one “acting” speaker, a job invented following four speakerless months. The Senate, meanwhile, is tied in knots by wannabe presidents and aspiring talk-show hosts, who use the chamber as a social-media platform to build their brands by obstructing—well, everything. The Defense Department is among hundreds of agencies that have not been reauthorized, the government has shut down three times, and, yes, it finally happened: The United States briefly defaulted on the national debt, precipitating a market collapse and an economic downturn. No one wanted that outcome, but no one was able to prevent it.
Millions of men in the prime of their lives are missing from the labor force. Could a big U.S. housing construction project bring them back?
Something is rotten in the U.S. economy. Poor men without a college degree are disappearing from the labor force. The share of prime-age men (ages 25-54) who are neither working nor looking for work has doubled since the 1970s.
The U.S.’s labor participation rate for this group of men is lower than every country in the OECD except for Israel (an outlier, because of the high number of non-working Orthodox Jewish men) and Italy (an economic omnishambles). Today, one in six prime-age men in America are either unemployed or out of the workforce altogether—about 10 million men.
So, this is the 10-million-man question: Where did all these guys go?
According to a report from White House economists released last week, non-working prime-age men skew young, are less likely to be parents, are disproportionately black and less educated, and are concentrated in the South.
On swallowing “sorry”s and replacing them with simple “thank you”s.
There are many things I envy about Tami Taylor, the famously empathetic yet take-no-shit matriarch of Friday Night Lights: her perfect hair, her prodigious wine intake, her ability to always say the right thing. But while watching the show, one thing that really grabbed me was her capacity for casual gratitude.
Casual gratitude is a term I just made up, to distinguish it from the more serious, mindful, let-me-sit-down-and-count-my-blessings practice of gratitude, or the formal gratitude of, say, a thank you note, or a life debt. As the Taylors flurried around their Texas kitchen and the local high school, Tami was always quick to recognize others for the small favors they did for her with a “thank you” or “I appreciate it.” And it’s how she says it. She doesn’t make a big deal out of it, just thanks people casually, but with grace and sincerity, and then she moves on. A simple thank you for a simple kindness.
It’s not because they’re inherently harsher leaders than men, but because they often respond to sexism by trying to distance themselves from other women.
There are two dominant cultural ideas about the role women play in helping other women advance at work, and they are seemingly at odds: the Righteous Woman and the Queen Bee.
The Righteous Woman is an ideal, a belief that women have a distinct moral obligation to have one another’s backs. This kind of sentiment is best typified by Madeleine Albright’s now famous quote, “There is a special place in hell for women who don’t help each other!” The basic idea is that since all women experience sexism, they should be more attuned to the gendered barriers that other women face. In turn, this heightened awareness should lead women to foster alliances and actively support one another. If women don’t help each other, this is an even worse form of betrayal than those committed by men. And hence, the special place in hell reserved for those women.
The U.S. Supreme Court strikes down two Texas abortion-clinic restrictions in a 5-3 decision.
The U.S. Supreme Court struck down a series of restrictions on Texas abortion clinics Monday, turning back one of the most significant challenges to abortion rights in a generation.
“We conclude that neither of these provisions offers medical benefits sufficient to justify the burdens upon access that each imposes,” Justice Stephen Breyer wrote for a five-justice majority in Whole Woman’s Health v. Hellerstadt. “Each places a substantial obstacle in the path of women seeking a previability abortion, each constitutes an undue burden on abortion access, and each violates the Federal Constitution.”
The case centers on two abortion-clinic regulations enacted by the Texas legislature in 2013. One of the regulations requires doctors who provide abortions to have admitting privileges at a hospital within 30 miles of the procedure’s location. A second regulation also requires clinics that provide abortions to meet the same safety and staffing standards Texas requires for hospital operating rooms.
Girls who start to develop at young ages—as more and more of them are—are at risk for a host of physical and psychological problems.
“I wanted to call the book The New Normal, but everyone around me said no, you can’t!” said Louise Greenspan, a pediatric endocrinologist and co-author of a book that ended up being called The New Puberty: How to Navigate Early Development in Today’s Girls, on Sunday at Spotlight Health, a conference co-hosted by the Aspen Institute and The Atlantic. “It may be average, but it’s not okay.”
Greenspan is also a co-author of a longitudinal study that looked at around 1,200 girls ages six to eight, and followed them for seven years, from 2004 to 2011, to see when puberty began for them. While puberty in girls is often measured using the onset of their first menstrual period, the first sign is actually breast development—it’s just that first period is easier to measure, because people typically remember it. For breast development, a doctor really has to do an in-person exam. (Puberty onset in boys hasn’t been well-studied, but it doesn’t seem to be following these same patterns.)
The June 23 vote represents a huge popular rebellion against a future in which British people feel increasingly crowded within—and even crowded out of—their own country.
I said goodnight to a gloomy party of Leave-minded Londoners a few minutes after midnight. The paper ballots were still being counted by hand. Only the British overseas territory of Gibraltar had reported final results. Yet the assumption of a Remain victory filled the room—and depressed my hosts. One important journalist had received a detailed briefing earlier that evening of the results of the government’s exit polling: 57 percent for Remain.
The polling industry will be one victim of the Brexit vote. A few days before the vote, I met with a pollster who had departed from the cheap and dirty methods of his peers to perform a much more costly survey for a major financial firm. His results showed a comfortable margin for Remain. Ten days later, anyone who heeded his expensive advice suffered the biggest percentage losses since the 2008 financial crisis.
The spacecraft Juno was designed to make it all the way to Jupiter, then orbit the planet without getting destroyed in the process
Jupiter is not to be trifled with.
The gargantuan planet is a gas giant, a term that makes it sound far gentler than it actually is. In fact, Jupiter is severe and volatile.
Its famous Great Red Spot is a violent anticyclone three times the size of Earth that has been raging for at least 400 years. The radiation around Jupiter is a menace, 1 million times more intense than radiation belts that surround Earth. The Jovian magnetosphere, which powers its radiation belts and produces brilliant permanent auroras around the planet’s poles, is the largest structure in our solar system. “Northern Lights on steroids,” as Randy Gladstone, a planetary scientist who focuses on airglow, once put it to NASA. “They're hundreds of times more energetic than auroras on Earth.”