China's President Xi Jinping (R) shakes hands with his Palestinian counterpart Mahmoud Abbas during a signing ceremony at the Great Hall of the People in Beijing May 6, 2013 (Jason Lee/Reuters)
Solving the Israel/Palestine crisis has long been the holy grail of American foreign policy -- an elusive goal that each successive president has strived to achieve. Like moths to a flame, American presidents cannot resist the temptation to solve a problem from which so many other issues -- terrorism and Iran, notably -- seem to come from.
Could China, then, be stealing America's thunder? President Xi Jinping made waves last week by inviting both Israeli prime minister Benjamin Netanyahu and Palestinian leader Mahmoud Abbas to China, a diplomatic maneuver that elicited the attention (and approval) of the U.S. media. The ambitions for the visit weren't terribly ambitious; Netanyahu and Abbas never met, and Xi issued a bland "four-point plan" that reinforced existing norms for resolving the crisis. But the very fact that China thrust itself in the situation nonetheless was significant. Why, then, did China decide to do it?
There are two major forces at play. First, publicly claiming an interest in solving this crisis is consistent with China's new global approach to foreign policy. For years, China focused its attention primarily on its periphery, but as its economy grew Beijing needed to come up with a strategy to deal with the rest of the world, one that, at least, went beyond "just sell us natural resources and we'll let you do whatever you want to your people." Now, a strategy has emerged. On the United Nations Security Council China has formed a de facto alliance with Russia, using their respective vetoes to stymie American-led initiatives. Beijing has also flexed its diplomatic muscle through organizations like the Shanghai Cooperation Organization (a grouping of Central Asian republics plus China) and the Association of Southeast Asian Nations (which, though not a member, China exerts significant influence in). China may claim to be just a middle-income developing country, but in diplomatic terms it has become much more than that.
However, Beijing's involvement in the Middle East has as much to do with the United States than it does with China. Prospects for U.S. brokerage of Israeli/Palestinian peace are bleaker than they've been in a long time. President Obama's relationship with Netanyahu, to put it mildly, is not warm, and the continued split between Fatah and Hamas complicates matters further. The administration has also publicly signaled a "pivot to Asia", a declaration that foreign policy priorities won't be dominated by the Middle East forever. And when recently asked about the Israeli/Palestinian crisis, Secretary of State John Kerry pessimistically gave the "two-state solution" a window of two more years. Clearly, Washington doesn't feel good about the situation.
So will China fill the breach? Beijing's involvement does offer a fresh dynamic to the region; whereas Washington is seen as a staunch Israel ally, China tilts much more toward the Palestinians. It wasn't a coincidence that it was Mahmoud Abbas, not Netanyahu, who was awarded full state visit honors in China. That said, China still lacks the clout to play more than a peripheral role in the Middle East peace process -- something Beijing surely knows. But by meeting with the two leaders, Xi Jinping served a timely reminder that his country, at the very least, wasn't going to sit this issue out anymore.
All the nominee had to do at the first debate was appear polite and reasonable for 90 minutes. He failed.
HEMPSTEAD, N.Y.—Before this week’s first presidential debate, it was common for Donald Trump’s television surrogates to predict it would echo the sole 1980 encounter between Jimmy Carter and Ronald Reagan.
It turned out, to borrow from another famous debate moment, Donald Trump was no Ronald Reagan.
On the surface, the analogy appeared reasonable. Like Hillary Clinton today, Carter in 1980 bet most of his chips on personally disqualifying Reagan. Carter painted his opponent as unqualified, ill-informed, extreme, and dangerous—an aging entertainer who might trigger a nuclear war through ignorance and belligerence.
For months, enough voters feared Carter might be right to keep him close in the polls, despite enormous dissatisfaction with his job performance. But when Reagan in the debate presented himself as composed, reasonable, and genial (swatting away even accurate Carter recitations of his most outrageous earlier statements with a jaunty “There you go again”) the doubts softened, Carter’s support crumbled, and the Gipper rolled to a landslide.
After Donald Trump became the Republican nominee, he was asked on Fox News about his views on NATO and other American alliances. He gave his familiar “they’re freeloaders” answer:
The fact is we are protecting so many countries that are not paying for the protection. When a country isn’t paying us and these are countries in some cases in most cases that have the ability to pay, and they are not paying because nobody is asking….
We’re protecting all of these countries. They have an agreement to reimburse us and pay us and they are not doing it and if they are not going to do that. We have to seriously rethink at least those countries. It’s very unfair.
A new study looks at rates of lethal violence across a thousand species to better understand the evolutionary origins of humanity’s own inhumanity.
Which mammal is most likely to be murdered by its own kind? It’s certainly not humans—not even close. Nor is it a top predator like the grey wolf or lion, although those at least are #11 and #9 in the league table of murdery mammals. No, according to a study led by José María Gómez from the University of Granada, the top spot goes to… the meerkat. These endearing black-masked creatures might be famous for their cooperative ways, but they kill each other at a rate that makes man’s inhumanity to man look meek. Almost one in five meerkats, mostly youngsters, lose their lives at the paws and jaws of their peers.
Gómez’s study is the first thorough survey of violence in the mammal world, collating data on more than a thousand species. It clearly shows that we humans are not alone in our capacity to kill each other. Our closest relatives, the chimpanzees, have been known to wage brutal war, but even apparently peaceful creatures take each other’s lives. When ranked according to their rates of lethal violence, ground squirrels, wild horses, gazelle, and deer all feature in the top 50. So do long-tailed chinchillas, which kill each other more frequently than tigers and bears do.
It’s true that heads of state are particularly flawed these days. But some deserve a little credit.
Libertarian presidential candidate Gary Johnson managed to make foreign-policy watching eyes roll—again—this week after he failed to name even a single world leader he admired. (Johnson said he was having an “Aleppo moment,” but in deference to the long-suffering Syrian people, let’s agree to call it a “Gary moment.”) In truth, it’s not that easy to pick a universally respected leader these days. The world's current crop of presidents and prime ministers are a particularly flawed bunch. Here, in semi-defense of the indefensible, are five who deserve a little credit.
5. Angela Merkel. Sure, the German chancellor may have driven Greece to the economic brink to make a political point, but she stood up for refugees when it counted. Her decision to declare Germany open to those fleeing the otherwise ignored horrors of the Syrian civil war continues to hurt her party's chances in Germany's upcoming elections next year. (Though it did earn her the approval of Johnson’s running mate, William Weld, who declared her his favorite world leader.) And yet she is sticking to her guns, refusing to back down to internal pressure. Her tenure will be assessed on more than refugees, but on this issue, she has been the definition of political courage.
In a unique, home-spun experiment, researchers found that centripetal force could help people pass kidney stones—before they become a serious health-care cost.
East Lansing, Michigan, becomes a ghost town during spring break. Families head south, often to the theme parks in Orlando. A week later, the Midwesterners return sunburned and bereft of disposable income, and, urological surgeon David Wartinger noticed, some also come home with fewer kidney stones.
Wartinger is a professor emeritus at Michigan State, where he has dealt for decades with the scourge of kidney stones, which affect around one in 10 people at some point in life. Most are small, and they pass through us without issue. But many linger in our kidneys and grow, sending hundreds of thousands of people to emergency rooms and costing around $3.8 billion every year in treatment and extraction. The pain of passing a larger stone is often compared to child birth.
It looked likelier than ever at this week’s “Super Bowl of climate law.”
WASHINGTON—There’s a commonplace when writing about climate change, a juxtaposition so familiar it almost deserves a name. It resembles CSPAN, but directed by Michael Bay. First, a speaker points to the prospect of 21st century ecological collapse: sloshing waves, ravenous forest fires, fathers weeping as their crops succumb to a drought.
Then, the camera reveals the rooms where people make climate-change policies today. They are wood-paneled, document-strewn, and full of briefcases. Compared to the Hollywood blockbuster that preceded them, they seem boring. They are boring. But then the punchline: In this room—this bureaucratic, tedious room—the fate of the whole planet is decided.
CHICAGO—It was Nordstrom’s anniversary sale, and Marnie couldn’t help herself. She ran to the shoe display, and, with a swooping bear hug, grabbed up an entire row of gemstone-hued Nikes.
Marnie is a self-identified hoarder, and she was here as part of an intervention of sorts. As she compulsively shopped, looking on were a group of other hoarders and psychologists.
Within seconds, Marnie had laced up a navy-blue pair of sneakers. A sales clerk wandered over. “Can I help you?” she asked, suspiciously.
The shopping expedition took place during the annual conference of the International OCD Foundation this July. Hoarding is one of the many manifestations of Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder, a mental illness that forces its sufferers to perform specific rituals or think disturbing thoughts repeatedly. In the case of hoarding, it’s the uncontrollable desire to acquire and keep things.
For decades, the candidate has willfully inflicted pain and humiliation.
Donald J. Trump has a cruel streak. He willfully causes pain and distress to others. And he repeats this public behavior so frequently that it’s fair to call it a character trait. Any single example would be off-putting but forgivable. Being shown many examples across many years should make any decent person recoil in disgust.
Judge for yourself if these examples qualify.
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In national politics, harsh attacks are to be expected. I certainly don’t fault Trump for calling Hillary Clinton dishonest, or wrongheaded, or possessed of bad judgment, even if it’s a jarring departure from the glowing compliments that he used to pay her.
But even in a realm where the harshest critiques are part of the civic process, Trump crossed a line this week when he declared his intention to invite Gennifer Flowers to today’s presidential debate. What kind of man invites a husband’s former mistress to an event to taunt his wife? Trump managed to launch an attack that couldn’t be less relevant to his opponent’s qualifications or more personally cruel. His campaign and his running-mate later said that it was all a big joke. No matter. Whether in earnest or in jest, Trump showed his tendency to humiliate others.
Sentiment-analysis software can help companies figure out what’s bothering workers—or what they’re excited about.
Every day, humans type out more than 200 billion emails, hundreds of millions of tweets, and innumerable texts, chats, and private messages. No one person could pick through even a tiny sliver of this information and stitch together themes and trends—but computers are starting to be able to. For more than a decade, researchers have been developing computer programs that can ingest enormous amounts of writing to try and understand the emotions stirred up by an idea or a product.
The field—known as sentiment analysis—got its start in market research. As online reviews started to gather steam in the mid-2000s, companies who wanted to understand how their products—or their competitors’ offerings—were being received began to use algorithms to aggregate reviews, says Bing Liu, a professor of computer science at the University of Illinois, Chicago, who has written extensively about the history of sentiment analysis. The algorithmic approach could reveal broader insights than a focus groups or surveys, the thinking went.