A woman holding a white box saying “Donate” on it, by Liza Summer is licensed under Pexels License.

Gun violence remains a critical public health crisis, causing measurable and immeasurable loss to families and communities across the United States. The economic toll of this violence on families is also staggering, with an estimated $557 billion spent annually on everything from funeral and medical costs to criminal justice processes and psychological support. 

When support from employers, insurance companies, and victim compensation programs falls short, many families turn to crowdfunding to help cope with their losses. But what shapes the financial requests families make—and the support they receive—after gun violence?

A recent study by Catherine Burgess and Jennifer Carlson examined this question by analyzing 535 GoFundMe campaigns created for women and girls killed by gun violence in California and Florida between 2016 and 2018. Their findings reveal how race and gender play key roles in how victims are portrayed in fundraising campaigns and the financial support their loved ones receive.

Their research shows that crowdfunding pages for white women and girls often portrayed them as innocent victims deserving of public sympathy and financial support. These campaigns emphasized their moral character—such as being a good mother or loving daughter—and often highlighted gun violence as their cause of death. For white victims who were mothers, their GoFundMe pages asserted their moral worth as protective and selfless, intensifying the tragedy of their loss. One page read, “[Her children] are her whole wide world, & she was also their world.”

In contrast, crowdfunding pages for Black and Latinx women and girls often focused on the immediate needs of their families, such as funeral expenses, rather than portraying them as victims deserving of public grief. Campaigns for women of color rarely mentioned gun violence and instead framed their deaths as private tragedies: “We are asking family and friends to support us in this hard time because her family doesn’t have the funds to provide her a proper farewell.” Caregiving roles were also central to the narratives of women of color. However, rather than evoking public grief, they underscored the personal hardships their families faced. GoFundMe pages for women of color were also more likely to highlight the victim’s resiliency, recognizing their strength in overcoming adversity.

In addition to the differences in framing, there were also disparities in fundraising success. On average, campaigns for white women and girls in the sample raised six times more money than those for Black women and girls and three times more than those for Latinx women and girls.white women and girls in the sample raised six times more money than those for Black women and girls and three times more than those for Latinx women and girls. White victims were also more likely to have campaigns that supported charitable memorial funds or gun violence prevention efforts. 

It is sobering that over 535 women and girls were killed by gun violence in just two states over two years, highlighting its devastating toll on U.S. women and girls. In the midst of this violence, Burgess and Carlson’s research reveals that inequality persists even in moments of charity. The same biases found in traditional support systems also exist in crowdfunding appeals, highlighting the racial and gender disparities in society.

Speech is not just about what we hear. Listeners make judgments about how they think people will talk using visual cues to make assumptions about a person’s age, gender identity, socioeconomic status, etc., However, it’s not yet clear in what ways this affects how listeners hear.

Ethan Kutlu created an experiment to examine how people’s implicit racial and linguistic biases impact their perception of accentedness, or how accented people believe a speaker is. First, participants were shown a picture of either a white woman or a South Asian woman. Then, audio of a sentence read by either an Indian English or American English speaker was played. Sentences from the same lists were read by both speakers. Importantly, this experiment was conducted in a racial-match and mismatch fashion. Thus, at some points, participants would see a South Asian woman and hear an Indian American accent (e.g. racial match) but at other points, they would see a white woman and hear an Indian American accent (racial mismatch). This way, the researchers were able to isolate the effect of race perceived through sight and race perceived through sound (seeing race vs. hearing race). Finally, participants were asked to judge whether the speaker had an accent. (All participants identified as native speakers of American English.)

This experiment determined that the images that were shown did, in fact, affect judgments of the level of accentedness. When listeners were shown a South Asian image before hearing the audio, they were more likely to rate the speaker as “accented.” This occurred when speakers heard either Indian English or American English. Participants were also significantly faster at rating speech accentedness when shown a South Asian image regardless of the audio played.

Overall, this research suggests that race impacts not just how we see and judge individuals but even how we hear them. Such a finding adds yet another twist to our understanding of the mechanisms by which discrimination impacts education, housing, finances, and more in contemporary American society.

Someone having their finger printed, being pressed down by another hand. Image by cottonbro studio under Pexels license.

A background check can make or break someone’s future. Every day, people are denied jobs, housing, and educational opportunities because of “failing a background check.”  These checks are often completed by for-profit private companies, are under- or unregulated, and have a reputation for being inaccurate – but how inaccurate are they?

Researchers Sarah Lageson and Robert Stewart conducted background checks on 101 individuals with criminal records in New Jersey, comparing official state records with a private company’s background check. They then verified the accuracy of the results with the individuals themselves. Of their sample for these background checks, they found that 92% had a “false-negative” error92% had a “false-negative” error (meaning the person was not flagged as having a criminal conviction, when they in-fact did) and 50% had a “false-positive” error (meaning the person was incorrectly flagged as having a criminal conviction, when but they actually did not). 

Long story short, errors in background checks subject people and their families to undue financial, social, and emotional harm – all due to a private company’s poor algorithm and negligence. However, with greater privacy protection and regulation of criminal history information in the public sector, the authors argue that reliance on inaccurate private sector background checks may begin to shift. 

A phone with earphones plugged in, displaying the Spotify logo. “spotify musique mp3” by downloadsource.fr is licensed under CC BY 2.0.

In 2016, Spotify launched a viral campaign called “Spotify Wrapped,” which aggregates users’ listening activity and info from the past year, showing key statistics like how many minutes of music they listened to, their top artists, genres, and songs. Since then, people have annually taken to social media to post the highlights of their Spotify Wrapped and reflect on their public-facing reputation. Streaming services like Spotify and Apple Music feature social media-like interfaces, including a profile, friends list, and listening activity streams, which broadcast private listening activity to virtual communities. Features like these pose questions about how data collection and streaming shape how we perform our identities. 

In a recent article, Michael James Walsh argues that self-presentation via social media contributes to the blurring between our public and private identities. Walsh draws from Erving Goffman, who likens interactions to performances on a stage. The front stage is carefully managed to ensure a convincing performance to others, while the backstage is where we prepare for these performances. In the backstage, nobody is watching, so we can be our “true selves.” 

Through interviews with music streaming service users in Australia during COVID-19, Walsh found that blending social media and music listening enables distant individuals to monitor and react to each other’s taste in music. Spotify’s social media-like features heighten user’s consciousness of what they are listening to and how their social networks may react.Spotify’s social media-like features heighten user’s consciousness of what they are listening to and how their social networks may react. One interviewee expressed discomfort with how their music and state of mind are broadcasted to their social networks: “Sometimes you listen to things in a personal context. You don’t necessarily want to communicate how you’re feeling with other people.” Another interviewee cited the Spotify Wrapped feature as a source of undesired self-consciousness: “There’s that wrap up at the end of the year. So, I’m also slightly conscious of how much I’m listening to something and, you know, like it’s not… is it embarrassing, but is it?”

Walsh finds that users also feel resigned to the sheer amount of data collection we experience today. Compared to previous eras of private listening, from records to cassette tapes to CDs to iPods, streaming services make listening activity broadcastable to friends and followers and recorded by companies. Ultimately, this article highlights how the social media-like features of music streaming today contribute to worries about our public reputation and the burden of constant data collection. 

Presidential candidate Donald Trump speaks before a rally in Pennsylvania. “Donald Trump Rally 10/21/16” by Michael Candelori is licensed under CC BY 2.0

Many people feel that politicians in power don’t represent them. For instance, in 2016, US presidential candidate Donald Trump vowed to “drain the swamp” of elite corruption if he won the election. This appealed to many populist voters, who generally feel that society is ruled by a corrupt elite who don’t represent the people. But what happens when a politician who based their campaign on this populist sentiment gets elected?

In a recent study, Yuchen Luo examined how people’s populist views changed after the election of Donald Trump to the US presidency. She did this by comparing survey results from 2016 and 2020. Perhaps not surprisingly, she found that Trump supporters were less likely to hold populist views after he was president than before.Trump supporters were less likely to hold populist views after he was president than before.

The surveys asked people how much they agreed with various populist statements, such as “The system is stacked against people like me” and “The American people should have more control over politics.” People were also asked whether they thought certain powerful groups help or harm society, including Hollywood, business leaders, academics, and journalists.

Luo found that populist attitudes among Trump supporters declined from 2016 to 2020. The more someone approved of Trump, in fact, the more likely it was that their populist views decreased.  Luo argues that these changes in Trump supporters’ populist attitudes were driven by their feeling that Trump represented them. In the past, these people disliked the societal elite, but once someone they supported was elected president, some of these views changed. These populists became less populist.

Unlike other populist attitudes, however, the views of Trump supporters about elite groups largely did not change. The one exception to this trend was their views of business leaders. Republicans who voted for Trump in the 2016 primary were more likely to have positive views of business leaders in 2020 than in 2016. Luo speculates that this could be because Trump himself is a businessman.

Two young boys running towards the ocean during sunset. “Children Running on Beach at sunset” by Click Sent is licensed under Pexels License.

Despite being one of the richest nations in the world, the US doesn’t have the best track record when it comes to child poverty. Millions of children and their families live at or below the relative poverty line and lack adequate food, housing and income. The COVID-19 pandemic could have deepened this poverty by taking children out of school and leaving many parents unemployed. However, emergency financial support policies during the pandemic actually led to a decrease in child poverty. 

Researchers Zachary Parolin and Stefano Filauro investigated one of these policies, the American Rescue Plan (ARP) Act of 2021, which temporarily increased economic support for families. Notably, this act expanded the Child Tax Credit (CTC) making more families eligible for financial support. Examining 50 years of US data, the researchers found that this credit likely had a profound impact on the child poverty rate in the US. They found that the Supplemental Poverty Measure (SPM) decreased from 9.7% in 2020 to 5.2% in 2021, making the child poverty rate the lowest ever recorded in US history.making the child poverty rate the lowest ever recorded in US history. 

To put the US child poverty rate into international context, the authors compiled data from over 50 different countries. For example, they found that the US had twice the child poverty rate as Germany in 2019, but in 2021 the rates were similar. Moreover, by 2021 US tax and transfer payment policies were driving down US child poverty at a rate comparable to policies in Norway. The researchers noted that these European countries make unconditional financial support available to all families with children, which is similar to the expansions from the ARP on the Child Tax Credit.

Unfortunately, the American Rescue Plan supports that led to the decline in child poverty expired at the end of 2021, and the SPM child poverty rate quickly rose again to 12.4% in 2022. Nevertheless, this research demonstrates that providing direct financial support to families can effectively reduce US child poverty. While “handouts” are often looked down upon by Americans, the ARP had a significant effect on these families. Although it was temporary, policies such as these can contribute to making children’s formative years more safe and stable.  

A vinyl record store. Image by Darya Sannikova under Pexels license.

How can you tell if a song is popular?

Two important measures of musical success in the US are Billboard magazine’s charts, which compare the current popularity of songs and albums, and the Recording Industry Association of America’s certification program, which aims to measure total sales. The RIAA awards the famous gold and platinum records.

Changes in technology often change these calculations. In a new article, Vincent Carter of Emory University showed how one change helped shape the development of R&B and hip-hop music.

Before the 1990s, Billboard magazine measured record sales by calling up record stores and asking for their sales numbers. This changed with SoundScan, which automatically recorded data using point-of-sale scanners. This is often praised for making charts more accurate. However, especially in the early days, not all stores had scanner technology. This was especially true of stores that served predominantly Black customers, the core audience for hip-hop and R&B music.

Carter argues that this technological disparity affected which R&B and hip-hop songs charted. To test this idea, he used data from two sources: Billboard’s charts, and the RIAA’s certification program. The Billboard charts are a relative measure of a song’s popularity at a specific time, either overall or in a specific category (in this case, R&B/Hip-Hop). The RIAA certification program is an absolute measure of how successful a song has been over time. Therefore, Carter used certification as a measure of a song’s success over time, while the charts are more short-term. In this study, Billboard’s Pop chart was used to measure a song’s mainstream popularity, while the R&B/Hip-Hop chart measured a song’s genre-specific popularity.

Before SoundScan, #1 songs that stayed for a longer time on the R&B/Hip-Hop chart and the more general “Pop” chart were more likely to be certified. After SoundScan, however, this relationship changed. Under the new system, songs that went to #1 on the R&B/Hip-Hop chart but stayed for a shorter period of time were more likely to be certified.but stayed for a shorter period of time were more likely to be certified. However, certified songs were still more likely to spend longer on the Pop chart.

With this change, stores that served Black African-American customers had less impact on the sales numbers, though they still drove genre-specific chart performance. The overall influence of Black consumers on the chart therefore declined thanks to SoundScan’s technological disparity. The R&B/Hip-Hop charts were still measuring a song’s performance on R&B and hip-hop radio, better capturing Black audiences’ taste. Over time, genre-specific chart performance became “decoupled” or split off from the sales numbers.

Carter argues that this disempowered Black audiences, affecting which artists became successful and which types of music were made.

A slogan on the side of a truck. A U.S. flag is superimposed over an outline of the United States, above a large red banner emblazoned with the words “Made in America. This image, titled “Made in America Product Showcase,” is attributed to The White House and is marked with Public Domain Mark 1.0.

Contemporary American politics is filled with division and conflict. In this polarized climate, attention to truth and lies remains a central focus of public conversation. Concerns about and accusations of “misinformation” and “fake news” circulate frequently, giving rise to important questions. How important are evidence and facts in determining people’s support of politicians’ statements? And are liberals or conservatives more committed to the truth?

A recent study helps to answer these questions. Minjae Kim and colleagues researched how American voters evaluated factually untrue statements given by prominent politicians from the Republican and Democratic parties. Through online surveys, the researchers found that Americans across political lines had a pronounced tendency to support statements by politicians from their own party even after being told that the statements had been proven false.Americans across political lines had a pronounced tendency to support statements by politicians from their own party even after being told that the statements had been proven false.

These respondents justified accepting false statements in moral terms, answering that it’s more important their favored politician “sent the right message about American priorities” – in other words, that the ends justify the means. However, when judging statements by politicians from the opposing party (e.g. when Democrats were judging false statements from Republicans), respondents instead emphasized the importance of objective evidence and accountability. Again, the researchers found these patterns held for both Republican and Democratic voters.

This study reveals that facts tend to carry less weight than a person’s community and political commitments and how these shape American beliefs regarding “deeper truths” about political issues.

A woman holding two phones, one with “1000 likes” and the other with none.” “Person Holding Smartphones” by Kaboompics.com is licensed under Pexels License.

Women’s voices remain underrepresented in many types of online political participation,  even as digital platforms expand. But why do women participate less actively in these conversations than men? New research from Zhaodi Chen and Junghun Han investigates one potential factor: negative feedback mechanisms like “dislikes” and comment deletion.

Chen and Han conducted a survey experiment, in which research participants were presented with hypothetical scenarios. In these scenarios, participants were asked to imagine posting their opinions on COVID-19 social distancing anonymously in a public online forum. Depending on the scenario, the participant’s contribution faced either 1) negative feedback in the form of “dislikes” – such as downvotes on Reddit or dislikes on YouTube – or 2) complete deletion, such as on Wikipedia. The findings are revealing: for women, the possibility of their post being disliked did not deter them, but the risk of deletion significantly lowered their willingness to participatefor women, the possibility of their post being disliked did not deter them, but the risk of deletion significantly lowered their willingness to participate. For men, neither dislikes nor deletions significantly impacted their participation.

While past studies have shown that women face greater hostility in digital spaces, Chen and Han’s results suggest that the platforms’ engagement designs may also contribute to the gender gap online. Women’s reluctance to post when their contributions risk erasure shows how certain feedback mechanisms may unintentionally silence women and reinforce gender disparities in public discourse. Rethinking the use of these negative feedback mechanisms could be a step toward more inclusive online discussions.

An older man helping a young girl play pool. “Girl Playing Pool” by Rene Terp is licensed under is licensed under CC BY 2.0 under Pexels License.

Wealth distribution in the US has been a widely debated topic, often focusing on the differences between generations or between the richest and the poorest. Two generations that have appeared the most in these debates are Baby Boomers and Millennials, with Baby Boomers being considered wealthier than Millennials. But is this really true?

Rob Gruijters, Zachary Van Winkle, and Anette Eva Fasang found in their recent study that although less wealthy Baby Boomers fared better than Millennials when they were at the same period in life, the wealthiest Millennials are actually better off than Baby Boomers were. Using national longitudinal data from the US Bureau of Labor Statistics, they compared life trajectories for 6000 late Baby Boomers (born 1957-1964) with those of 6000 early Millennials (1980-84). Specifically, they looked at their young adult years, ages 18-35, and their changes in their work and wealth in these challenging years. 

One of the most common ways of assessing wealth is home ownership. The researchers found that 62% percent of Boomers owned homes at the age of 35, but only 49% of Millennials did. A potential reason why is the amount of debt (e.g., the rising costs of college) with 14% of Millennials having more debt than assets, as compared to 8.7% of Boomers. In addition to rising costs and larger debts, only 7.3% of Millennials entered high-status jobs (such as law and medicine) after college, as compared to 17% of Baby Boomers, instead entering other professional roles like social work and teaching or in service and retail sector jobs. Alongside different job trajectories, Baby Boomers also tended to marry at a younger age – all of which impact the ability to purchase a home.

As a result, when Millennials and Baby Boomers were hypothetically at the same age, the wealthiest Millennials, who ended up with middle-class life trajectories (college education, graduate level jobs, and started families later on) had more wealth than the wealthiest Baby Boomers. The poorest Millennials, who had working-class careers, had less wealth than the poorest Baby Boomers, and sometimes even had negative wealthThe poorest Millennials, who had working-class careers, had less wealth than the poorest Baby Boomers, and sometimes even had negative wealth, which was less common among Boomers. 

The circumstances that the Baby Boomers and Millennials grew up in have led to different life trajectories for people on the highest and lowest financial extremes. As costs of living grow increasingly higher, from daily needs like groceries to housing stability and ownership, the impacts of this wealth disparity will have further disproportionate consequences for people who are the most vulnerable.