China's Premier Li Keqiang (C) visits after a strong earthquake hits Lushan county, Ya'an, Sichuan province, April 20, 2013. (Reuters)
Here's what we know about Saturday's massive earthquake that has, for the second time in five years, thrown China's Sichuan Province into despair: Over 200 people are either dead or missing. Over 11,000 are injured. 17,000 more are homeless, a number that will surely go up. And while the toll from this quake was much lighter than the May 2008 tremor that claimed nearly 70,000 lives, the damage done from this earthquake is significant. This is a major disaster.
In 2008, Beijing dispatched then-Premier Wen Jiabao to Sichuan right away, eager to correct an impression that it couldn't handle major crises. The avuncular Wen kindly reassured the region's grieving survivors -- famously referring to himself as "Grandpa" -- and promised a huge amount of government aid. The reaction this year was little different. Premier Li Keqiang flew directly to the town of Ya'an (near the epicenter) and reportedly spent the night in a tent as a gesture of solidarity with the earthquake's newly homeless survivors.
The takeaway from this tragedy is that Beijing, at long last, has learned how to handle natural disasters. After all, earthquakes aren't, at least on the surface, political: you can't accuse tectonic plates of fomenting dissent. The events in Sichuan provide the Chinese government with a rare public relations opportunity to gain legitimacy through crisis management.
Yet as we learned in 2008, even natural disasters have political consequences. Soon after the dust cleared and Premier Wen returned to Beijing, grieving survivors wondered angrily why so many of the county's schoolhouses collapsed while government buildings stood. And when the artist Ai Weiwei attempted to document each of the earthquake's victims in a piece of politically-inspired art, he was beaten and detained by local security forces. A natural disaster quickly turned into a shameful example of government corruption, an issue that increasingly poses an existential threat to Communist Party rule.
Will this time be different? Superficially, yes: The earthquake happened on a Saturday when far fewer children were in class, so China was spared a repeat of 2008's horrific school collapse tragedy. But now there are rumblings that the government is taking too long to provide shelter to the newly homeless. And then there's this, from the South China Morning Post:
But Zhang Xueming, a rescue worker from Wenzhou-based Blue Sky Rescue Team, said the road conditions were not the main problem. "Most of the tents are provided by companies and they all want them to be sent to major areas to get more public recognition," he said.
Later, the piece quoted a villager from a remote area who complained that the government is only taking care of those living in larger towns.
It's hard to imagine any government handling a disaster of this proportion seamlessly, and there are always going to be victims who feel unjustly compensated for their losses. But it'll be worth keeping an eye on the Chinese government's handling of this disaster in the coming days and weeks. Beijing might think that an earthquake, in comparison to, say, ethnic unrest in Tibet, is an apolitical crisis. But in China, where the Communist Party has a say in just about everything that goes on, politics can't be entirely escaped.
The Trump Foundation mostly takes in other people’s money, but it appears it doesn’t have legal permission to solicit donations.
The problem with telling people to follow the money is they just might take you up on it. Donald Trump’s campaign has adopted that mantra in reference to the Clinton Foundation, but it applies to him in uncomfortable ways, too.
First, there’s the fact that he won’t release his tax returns, making it hard to follow the money and raising questions about what might be hidden there. Second, there are his forays into Cuba, apparently in violation of the embargo. Third, there’s the latest scoop from The Washington Post’s David Fahrenthold, who finds that the Donald J. Trump Foundation was operating without a required license.
As Fahrenthold previously reported, the Trump Foundation is peculiar: Unlike many other similar charities, it’s stocked with other people’s money. Trump himself has given barely any money to it since the mid-2000s, although he did direct income from places like Comedy Central to the charity, possibly without paying taxes on it. Instead, he has raised money from other donors, which he has used to, among other things, settle legal cases against him, all while basking in the glow of his apparent charity.
An etiquette update: Brevity is the highest virtue.
I recently cut the amount of time I spent on email by almost half, and I think a lot of people could do the same.
I’m sure my approach has made some people hate me, because I come off curt. But if everyone thought about email in the same way, what I’m suggesting wouldn’t be rude. Here are the basic guidelines that are working for me and, so, I propose for all of the world to adopt immediately:
Best? Cheers? Thanks?
None of the above. You can write your name if it feels too naked or abrupt not to have something down there. But it shouldn’t, and it wouldn’t if it were the norm.
Don’t waste time considering if “Dear,” or “Hey” or “[name]!” is appropriate. Just get right into it. Write the recipient’s name if you must. But most people already know their names. Like they already know your name.
Tim Burton’s newest film, adapted from a popular young-adult novel, is a pretty but soulless adventure.
Not long after the novel Miss Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children was published in 2011, it starteddrawingcomparisons to Harry Potter and Lemony Snicket’s A Series of Unfortunate Events. On the one hand, many popular young-adult books get compared to one of those series at some point. But on the other, it made a lot of sense: Miss Peregrine is at its heart a dark, Gothic-tinged story about an ordinary boy discovering an extraordinary dimension to his life, one that whisks him away to a marvelous new world populated with marvelous inhabitants.
Given all the eerie fantasy elements at work, it’s little surprise then that Tim Burton was tasked with directing the film adaptation of Ransom Riggs’s first Miss Peregrine book. The director seems completely at home telling a story about a an enchanted wartime children’s orphanage, terrifying invisible monsters, and waif-like youths with giant eyes. The result is 124 minutes worth of CGI-embellished, time-traveling adventure that’s ambitious in scope and exasperating in execution. Part of that is because of the sheer amount of magical logic and backstory there is to explain, and the film’s wildly veering tone and pace. But perhaps most lacking in Miss Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children is something the best children’s movies always have—a genuine emotional center. Or, put more simply, heart.
The Commission on Presidential Debates issued a cryptic statement acknowledging some audio issues Monday night.
After critics savaged his performance at Monday’s first presidential debate, Republican nominee Donald Trump alighted on several culprits: Hillary Clinton, the moderator, and especially his microphone.
The claim was met with some skepticism, but on Friday afternoon, the Commission on Presidential Debates seemed to confirm his claim, at least in part. The commission, which controls the debates, released a cryptic statement that reads in full:
Statement about first debate
Sep 30, 2016
Regarding the first debate, there were issues regarding Donald Trump's audio that affected the sound level in the debate hall.
We’ve called the commission to ask what that means, but have not heard back yet. Presumably, they are receiving dozens of such queries.
With the death of Shimon Peres, Israel has lost its chief optimist. And the prime minister remains paralyzed by pessimism.
The Book of Proverbs teaches us that where there is no vision, the people perish. The people of Israel, now bereft of Shimon Peres, will not perish, because survival—or, at least, muddling through—is a Jewish specialty. But the death of Israel’s greatest visionary, a man who understood that it would never be morally or spiritually sufficient for the Jews to build for themselves the perfect ghetto and then wash their hands of the often-merciless world, means that Israel has lost its chief optimist.
Peres was, for so many years, a prophet without honor in his own country, but he was someone who, late in life, came to symbolize Israel’s big-hearted, free-thinking, inventive, and democratic promise. Peres came to this role in part because he had prescience, verbal acuity, a feel for poetry, and a restless curiosity, but also because, gradually but steadily, he became surrounded by small men. One of the distressing realities of Israel today is that, in so many fields—technology, medicine, agriculture, literature, music, cinema—the country is excelling. But to Israeli politics go the mediocrities.
Lawmakers overrode an Obama veto for the first time on Wednesday. A day later, they already had regrets.
The enactment on Wednesday of the Justice Against Sponsors of Terrorism Act should have been a triumphant moment for Republican leaders in Congress. They had succeeded, after years of trying, in overriding a presidential veto for the first time and forcing a bill into law over the strenuous objections of Barack Obama.
But the morning after brought no such celebration for HouseSpeaker Paul Ryan and Senate Majority Leader McConnell—only pangs of regret.
“It appears as if there may be some unintended ramifications,” McConnell lamented at a press conference barely 24 hours after all but one senator voted to reject the president’s veto of the legislation, which would allow victims of the September 11, 2001 terrorist attacks to sue Saudi Arabia in U.S. court. On the other side of the Capitol, Ryan said that he hoped there could be a “fix” to the very law he allowed to pass through the House—one that would protect U.S. soldiers abroad from legal retribution that the Obama administration had warned for months would follow as a result of the law.
Terry Spraitz Ciszek, a homemaker in Fayetteville, North Carolina, talks about changing perceptions of women in the traditional economy and those who choose to leave their careers to raise a family.
For many women, the decision of whether or not to go back to work after having a child remains a fraught one. After all, returning to a job after maternity leave often means facing significant workplace challenges and even a decrease in earnings. On the other hand, there is also frequently a stigma attached to women who leave the workforce temporarily to raise their children or become long-term homemakers. Oftentimes, the decision for new mothers to rejoin the workforce can be seen as a reflection of the state of the economy. The number of stay-at-home mothers fell consistently for decades—from 49 percent in 1967 to a low of 23 percent in 1999—before bouncing back to 29 percent in 2012.
The ability for one parent to stay home, for kids or otherwise, is often viewed as a luxury of upper-middle class life. But even for the households that can afford it, the financial implications can extend beyond the loss of one steady income: A hypothetical 26-year-old female worker with a salary of $44,000 a year could lose about $707,000 in lifetime income ($220,000 in income, $265,000 in lifetime wage growth, and $222,000 in retirement benefits) from taking just five years off to care for a child.
After Andrea Wulf won the Royal Society’s highest honor for her book The Invention of Nature, a writer at The Guardian attributed it to a new fondness for “female-friendly” biographies among prize juries.
Last week, the Royal Society held its ceremony to honor the best popular-science book of the year. I was there, having had the good fortune to be one of the finalists for my recent book, The Hunt for Vulcan. I didn’t expect to win—partly because of my baseline pessimism, partly because of the strength of the competition, and partly because I had set out to write a kind of miniature, a brief book on a quirky topic. Whatever the reason, I was right: I didn’t.
The event itself was good fun. Each of the authors read a passage from their work; the head judge for the prize, author Bill Bryson, led us in a brief question-and-answer session, in which we compared notes on what moved us to write about science. Then came the moment of truth. Venkatraman Ramakrishnan, the president of the Royal Society, approached the podium, opened the envelope, and announced that Andrea Wulf had won for The Invention of Nature.
Despite an array of calculating tools, comparing financial-aid packages is still an incredibly dense and circular process.
As almost any parent of a high-school senior knows, figuring out the true college price tag is confusing. While the full annual sticker price can be as much as $60,000 or $70,000 at a private college and more than $55,000 at an out-of-state public college, experts say that many students will end up paying considerably less. Sizable merit and need-based aid packages take the sting out of those big numbers.
Students, however, typically have to wait until the spring, when their acceptance letters arrive, to learn the amount of those awards, making it difficult for families to effectively plan a long-term budget and posing significant obstacles for first-generation students who may not be aware of all the financial options.