The recent Gillette ad questions the beliefs underlying the phrase “boys will be boys,” and challenges viewers to reconsider how young boys learn what it means to “be a man” in American society. The ad has since spurred controversy, and some observers have even claimed that masculinity is “under threat.” In a recent Vox article, Tristan Bridges describes how the ad reflects broader societal issues around masculinity, and explains why some men may view the ad as an attack on masculinity.

American masculinity tends to promote potentially harmful characteristics in men, like showing toughness instead of acknowledging emotions. Many men feel as though they must prove this masculinity to others. Bridges explains that when men feel that their masculine identity is threatened, they tend to overcompensate in aggressive ways. For example, Bridges mentions a study where men who were told they had traits categorized as more highly feminine were more likely to blame victims of sexual assault and defend perpetrators than those who did not get feedback that threatened their masculinity.

Bridges argues that the Gillette ad may be one of the only times men explicitly see beliefs about masculinity under scrutiny:

“Men are not used to having masculinity defined for them, and sometimes they don’t realize the little ways these really problematic stereotypes of masculinity can crop up in their own lives.”

According to Bridges, this traditional messaging of masculinity is harmful to boys’ emotional and mental health because they are taught to respond to threats rather than accept challenges and critically question their behaviors and mentalities around masculinity:

“We’re not very good at talking with men about how to be challenged and not feel like your gender is threatened…We now talk to boys about consent, but not how to “retain their dignity” in the face of rejection.”

This leads to boys dealing with frustrations around their masculinity by being aggressive or dominant; both are behaviors that can have serious repercussions, not just for themselves, but for the people around them. 

Given the current polarization of American politics, it often comes as a pleasant surprise when Republicans and Democrats can agree on new legislation. This was exactly the case for the passage of the First Step Act in Congress, a criminal justice reform measure aimed at reducing prison sentences and increasing prison programming in the federal system. Backed by the White House, the First Step Act was also supported by an unlikely coalition of Republican and Democratic leaders, as well as the conservative political powers like the Koch Brothers and progressive non-profits like the American Civil Liberties Union. Drawing from her own research, Michelle Phelps explains in The Conversation how politicians’ attempts to change the criminal justice system has often been through uneasy alliances, and many of these policy efforts fall through in their implementation.

Phelps contends that much of the current academic and media discussions about criminal justice frames it as a pendulum that swings back and forth between the two poles of either  “get tough on crime” punishments or a more lenient system with treatment and rehabilitation. In her book, Breaking the Pendulum, with Phil Goodman and Josh Page, she argues that a better way to describe criminal justice reform efforts is tectonic plates. Phelps explains,

“…a better metaphor is the constant, low-level grinding of tectonic plates that continually produce friction and occasionally erupt in earthquakes. This friction manifests in traditional political combat, mass demonstrations, prison rebellions, and academic and policy work. Periodically, major changes in conditions like crime rates and the economy change to provide support and opportunities to one side or another.”

She highlights how this combination of social changes often produce alliances among Republicans and Democrats. For example, we often associate “get tough on crime” approaches with past and current Republican presidents, but one of the toughest crime bills, the 1994 Violent Crime Control and Law Enforcement Act, passed with bipartisan consensus under the leadership of president and Democrat Bill Clinton. While the 1994 bill was extremely popular and overly punitive, evidence suggests that it had a limited impact on the prison boom of recent decades. This highlights another major concern with the future of the First Step Act, a lack of meaningful implementation by key stakeholders, such as Trump’s new pick for U.S. Attorney General, William Barr. Phelps concludes,

“Like the ‘94 bill before it, this indicates that the First Step Act will likely be more bark than bite. The First Step Act might provide relief to several thousand current federal prisoners. But Barr will likely follow Sessions and direct his prosecutors to seek the maximum criminal penalties against current defendants, including for drug offenses, limiting the impact of the First Step Act’s sentencing reform. And the bill will have no practical effect on state prison systems, which in some cases have already embraced much more radical reforms…While the First Step Act is a move in the direction of more humane and moderate criminal justice practices, I think it will likely be a very small first step indeed.”

Evidence shows that trees and green spaces in urban areas offer a number of benefits, such as reducing stress and improving air quality. Despite these benefits, many residents of Detroit refused to allow the city to plant trees in front of their houses during a recent city “greening” initiative. An article appearing in CityLab draws from sociological research to demonstrate how a history of government abuses and lack of inclusivity of communities of color in key decisions explains why many Detroiters had this reaction.

Sociologist Dorceta Taylor published a report in 2014, arguing that white environmentalists make environmental justice projects less effective when they assume they know what is good for a neighborhood. By leaving communities of color out of the planning process, they are not able to anticipate or overcome challenges along the way. This proved true in Detroit. A recent article by Christine Carmichael and Maureen McDonough examined the reasons why Black residents resisted the city’s trees. CityLab reports: “It’s not that they didn’t trust the trees; they didn’t trust the city.”

Carmichael and McDonough found that Black residents were aware of the many benefits of living near trees. However, to some, the trees were a symbol of the city’s unwanted intervention in their lives. Amidst racial tension in the 1960s, the city began clearing trees from Black neighborhoods — ostensibly to combat Dutch elm disease, but some interviewees. Yet, some people believed the city cut down trees to increase police surveillance. This memory triggered their reaction to the modern tree-planting. Carmichael says:

“In this case, the women felt that [after the race rebellion] the city just came in and cut down their trees, and now they want to just come in planting trees. … But they felt they should have a choice in this since they’ll be the ones caring for the trees and raking up the leaves when the planters leave. They felt that the decisions regarding whether to cut down trees or plant new ones were being made by someone else, and they were going to have to deal with the consequences.”

This failed initiative in Detroit highlights the social forces that environmental organizations must consider when working in marginalized neighborhoods. Recruiting volunteers and administrators who come from the communities they are serving (something Detroit did not do) could help improve the process. As CityLab reports:

“[E]nvironmental justice is not just about the distribution of bad stuff, like pollution, or good stuff, like forestry projects across disadvantaged communities. It’s also about the distribution of power among communities that have historically only been the subjects and experiments of power structures.”

Current pressure for a wall on the United States’ southern border has been a centerpiece in politics and the media, but push for a wall is one recent development in a complex history of border politics. For centuries, the border has been a site for war, conflict, immigration, and trade. A recent article in The Washington Post highlights how these historic events have contributed to defining what the border means today, and how — especially in recent decades — this has led to calls for heightened security and enforcement.

The border itself is a powerful political symbol. According to sociologist Douglas Massey, it is not just

“a border but the border, and its enforcement has become a central means by which politicians signal their concern for citizens’ safety and security in a hostile world.”

Recent work by Massey highlights how throughout history this “hostile” world has been defined and composed of dissident actors — drug traffickers, terrorists, communists, or criminals — with politicians using them as political chips to peddle and spin different narratives on how and why we should protect the border.  

This research demonstrates that whether the southern border is an invisible line, physical fence, or wall, it continues to be a symbolic boundary for people who hold a profound fear of those who are non-white or of different cultural backgrounds. For example, recent political positions towards Central American migration to the United States seem to echo historic anti-immigrant attitudes. During the late 19th century, Chinese laborers were banned for decades from immigrating to the U.S. for their perceived cultural and economic threat to American society.

As debates continue over the construction of a southern wall, it is worthwhile to question if anti-immigrant attitudes and fears are haunting reverberations of the past. Recognition of the complex history of the U.S.-Mexico border and its connection to fear of crime and xenophobic attitudes may be a useful starting point so that today’s politics do not become “another brick in the wall” in the history of the border.

Since Surviving R. Kelly aired on Lifetime, we’ve seen a rise of activists led by Black women calling for the #MuteRKelly campaign, which dissuades music labels, radio stations, and other music platforms from selling, distributing, and promoting R. Kelly’s music. But despite the recent backlash, fans across the country continue to show their support for the R&B star. While some attempt to separate their feelings about the art from the artist, others dismiss Black women’s claims of R. Kelly’s abusive behaviors altogether. Much of this support comes from other Black R. Kelly fans. The documentary and the subsequent controversy also shed important light on an issue that is often missing from the public sphere: the plight of Black women and girls who experience sexual violence. Saida Grundy’s recent piece in The Atlantic helps us break down how Black support for R. Kelly remains despite the shocking revelations from Black women.

Rape myths have long obscured sexual victimization by suggesting that “real rape” occurs by strangers in a dark alley, women who dress “proactively” and show signs of intoxication “ask for it,” and men are not responsible for assault because they are unable to control their sexual impulses. According to Grundy, Black survivors and victims encounter a distinct set of racialized rape myths both from the broader public and from members of their own racial/ethnic community.

“With racialized rape myths, people compound untrue narratives about sexual assault with their own self-interests. For example, some African Americans might think defending Kelly is a way to push back against the history of false rape allegations from white women against black men — allegations that functioned as assaults on black communities, as they were commonly used by whites to justify the lynching of African American men during the Jim Crow era.”

Grundy echoes work by Black feminist scholars, such as Beth Richie, who argue that Black women and girls experience a “trap of loyalty,” where they are expected to resist racism against Black men by excusing or altogether denying abusive behaviors, even at the risk of concealing and enduring their own abuse. Furthermore, recent reports illustrate how Black girls are viewed as more adult and consequently less innocent than white girls. These myths surrounding innocence create interlocking gendered and racialized messages about Black girls’ and women’s sexuality that suggest they are “fast,” hypersexual, and deserving of men’s and boys’ unwanted advances towards them. In the age of #MeToo, disrupting racialized rape myths and the broader rape culture allows us to understand the race- and gender-specific mechanisms that damage Black girls’ and women’s credibility and impede disclosure and reporting on their experiences with sexual violence.

Whether or not children should get an allowance and have responsibilities around the house is a perennial question of parenting in the United States. Even within agreement about allowances, experts debate whether an allowance works best as positive reinforcement for the completion of chores or as a tool to teach children about saving and spending money. Unsurprisingly, when sociologists are asked to weigh in, they focus in on two core themes of sociology: community and inequality.

In a recent article in The Atlantic, Heather Beth Johnson hit on both of these themes. She notes that allowance, especially paying children for the completion of chores, is something that happens in affluent households more than non affluent ones.

“This isn’t happening in poor families,” she says. “They’re not like, ‘If you take care of your cousins, I’m going to pay you for it.’ It’s just expected that you would take care of your cousins if your cousins needed taking care of.”

That expectation that you do what others require you to do is part of a larger commitment to community. Johnson explains that individuals embedded in society have always had responsibilities to others, particularly to those in their family and other close communities. She worries that when parents frame helping the household as something that is deserving of a reward it may erode commitment to community obligations and increase entitlement among their children.

“When we pay [kids] to do things that humans have always had to do as participants of communities and families,” she says, “it sends them some sort of a message that they are entitled to [an] exchange for these things.”

Parents looking to do things differently may find it useful to look toward anthropology and child development for inspiration, since David Lancy has observed an almost universal desire to help in children approximately 18 months of age. Starting young may allow families to foster the expectation of helping others that has been the backbone of communities all over the world.

Even after signing a resolution to suspend the longest government shutdown in U.S. history, President Trump remains committed to delivering his long-promised southern border wall. In defense of the wall and the recently failed $5.7 billion Senate proposal, Trump again made comments on national security that contradict numerous studies and immigration scholars. However, the wall is not the only immigration policy proposed by the administration that could have dire social repercussions.

In a recent op-ed for the MinnPost, an interdisciplinary team of expert immigration scholars at the University of Minnesota, including Ryan Allen, Jack DeWaard, Erika Lee, and Chris Levesque, argues that the administrative changes to the ‘public charge’ rule is one such policy. The ‘public charge’ rule is a policy used to evaluate non-U.S. citizen applicants for U.S. residency by how likely they are to become dependent on the government for support. The Trump administration aims to make it easier for government officials to decide an immigrant is ineligible for residency if they are in need of or use government assistance programs. The research team highlights serious consequences of such a policy: in the wake of this announcement, many legal immigrants who are entitled and in need of health and social assistance programs fail to use them out of fear. This could produce detrimental effects on public health by spreading certain diseases across communities and reducing economic productivity.

The research team, which includes community stakeholders and activists, is committed to igniting critical discussions that address these challenges faced by individuals and families who immigrate to U.S. communities. In a sole-authored piece for the Pioneer Press, Jack DeWaard writes,

“…discussions and debates about U.S. immigrants, immigration and immigration policy must start with the very simple recognition that immigrants are people — often facing incredible hardships — seeking to do the best for themselves, their children and their families against a backdrop of widening inequality, both globally and within the U.S. With this as the starting point, say what you will about issues like the economic impacts of immigration…, men and women of character and integrity neither promote nor sit idly by as immigrants, including young children, are…denied their rights…in the process for doing what any person in their position would do — namely, ask for help.”

As we celebrated Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. last week, it is clear how much of an impact his life and legacy has had on American society. But in many respects, we have failed to achieve much of King’s hope for a more racially equitable and just society. Examples of overt racism are plentiful (e.g.,the recent viral video of white high school students mocking Native American activist Nathan Phillips) and — rightly — garner much attention. However, in a recent op-ed for The Guardian, Robin DiAngelo reminds us that focusing primarily on these overt cases of racism reinforces a common myth among white Americans that racism includes only “isolated and individual acts of intentional meanness.” DiAngelo, a sociologist and a racial equity consultant, points out that niceness is is central to this myth.

When people understand racism only as an individual action, it hides how structural racism operates in our current institutions and society. DiAngelo expands further,

“This definition is convenient and comforting, in that it exempts so many white people from the system of white supremacy we live in and are shaped by. It is at the root of the most common kind of white defensiveness. If racists are intentionally and openly mean, then it follows that nice people cannot be racist.”

For many whites, highlighting their niceness and proximity to people of color is how they distance themselves from racism. For example, a white person will often be quick to point to how many friends of color they have, how they live or work in a diverse environment, or they might even use defensive strategies to deny claims of racism like “but he/she is a nice person.” DiAngelo argues that this “cursory friendliness” does nothing to address racial inequality and the racially segregated lives that white people often lead:

“The racial kinship white people attempt to draw from niceness might be seen as a false or fabricated affinity. Most white people live segregated lives and in fact have no lasting cross-racial relationships. We are in the position to choose segregation and often do. The claims of non-racism that we make are therefore based on the most superficial of shared experiences: passing people of color on the street of large cities and going to lunch on occasion with a co-worker.”

DiAngelo concludes by urging white Americans to move beyond niceness to combat racism and racial inequality. White people must not only acknowledge their white privilege, but also make concerted efforts to

“put what [they] profess to value into the actual practice of our lives. This takes courage, and niceness without strategic and intentional anti-racist action is not courageous.”

As the recent partial government shutdown affected some 800,000 federal employees, Wilbur Ross, the Secretary of Commerce, made headlines for questioning why unpaid workers would need to visit a food shelf. Democrats responded that the millionaire investor is out of touch, as many Americans cannot afford to miss a paycheck and may not have access to credit to cover their basic expenses.

While Republicans are generally considered to be more corporate-friendly than Democrats, sociologist Timothy Gill argues in an op-ed for the Washington Post that both parties have had close ties to big business. According to his research, at least 70% of every presidential Cabinet since the Nixon administration has been staffed by former or future corporate executives.

Gill points out that sociologists have long been concerned about the connection between business and government. When C. Wright Mills published The Power Elite in 1956, he inspired new generations of social scientists to closely examine the concentration of corporate and political power among relatively few individuals.

The “power elite” have far more influence over public policy than the average American, and evidence suggests that they have used this influence in the past half century to serve their interests: tax rates have been slashed for corporations and wealthy individuals, union membership has declined, median wages have stagnated, and CEO compensation has soared. Gill argues that it is worth asking whether these policies are the result of the revolving door between business and politics. He writes:

“The mere presence of corporate elites in an administration, of course, does not mean that Cabinets necessarily represent elite corporate interests. But it does deeply influence what issues get discussed and what perspectives get considered as administrators grapple with policy questions.”

The government has been temporarily reopened, but as another funding deadline looms, federal employees may not be comforted to know that millionaires like Ross have more influence over the president than they do.

After the holidays, many parents breathe a collective sigh of relief. The holidays and their many challenges — travel, presents, and time with extended family — are so stressful that they make people wonder whether raising children has always been this hard. A recent The New York Times piece by Claire Cain Miller confirms that parenting has indeed gotten more time-consuming and expensive. Miller draws upon an arsenal of sociological research to illustrate how and why parenting has become so relentless.

Much of the pressure parents feel stems from wanting to pass on advantages to their children — especially since American children today are less likely to be as affluent as their parents. According to Phillip Cohen,

“As the gap between rich and poor increases, the cost of screwing up increases. The fear is they’ll end up on the other side of the divide.”

As a result, parents use “intensive parenting,” a child-rearing style that demands a great deal of their own time and resources. Sharon Hays’ describes intensive parenting as “child-centered, expert-guided, emotionally absorbing, labor intensive and financially expensive.” And according to Jennifer Glass, intensive parenting is rooted in the American view of child rearing as an individual — not societal — task, though it has begun to gain popularity in England and Australia.

But not all parents engage in these efforts equally, nor are they expected to. Jessica Calarco explains that intensive parenting allows affluent white mothers to ensure their children remain advantaged in society. Middle-class black mothers also use intensive parenting strategies, but for different reasons. According to Dawn Dow,

“They’re making decisions to protect their kids from early experiences of racism. It’s a different host of concerns that are equally intensive.” 

The demands of intensive parenting affect mothers’ lives far more than fathers. Liana Sayer’s research on American time use diaries shows that the time women spend parenting cuts into their sleep, time alone with their partners and friends, leisure time and housework. Moreover, while fathers today have increased the amount of time they spend with their children, mothers still spend significantly more.

So, drawing on research by over a dozen sociologists, Miller shows us that we are not wrong to find intensive parenting problematic. Not only does this parenting style disproportionately burden lower income families — and mothers in particular — but we’re not even sure it is effective in passing advantages on to the next generation. By stressing the importance of individualistic approaches to parenting, we fail to seek structural solutions that could ease the burdens of working mothers. In the words of sociologist Caitlyn Collins, intensive parenting “distracts from the real questions, like why don’t we have a safe place for all kids to go when they’re done with school before parents get home from work?”