How Technology Shapes How We Move, Speak, and Think

The influential computer scientist Mark Weiser once wrote that “a good tool is an invisible tool. By invisible, I mean that the tool does not intrude on your consciousness; you focus on the task, not the tool.” By this definition, many of our digital tools seem to have succeeded completely; they liberate our bodies by becoming invisible to users. By closing the gap between our bodies and our virtual selves, touchless technologies such as gesture control, voice recognition, and eye tracking aspire to channel our pure, natural expressions.

Such an interface has long been the holy grail for designers. From the Wii motion console to Leap Motion to the gadgets we all now carry in our pockets, these devices aim to erase the boundary between our bodies and our information. These devices promise a future in which our tools are so intuitive, they vanish. Now, it seems that future has arrived.

Though invisible to our conscious minds, our tools indelibly shape us. Technologies are not simply objects but architectures that organize our bodies in space and time, and give form to what I call the digital body: how we feel, move, and become through and alongside digital technologies. And the digital body is not an abstraction—it is us, becoming, again and again, in the technologies we build and the worlds we inhabit.

Living in the era of smartphones and AI, it’s easy to think that we’re in uncharted waters without a map. Our tools have become so frictionless, so invisible, that we forget their historical origins. Long before algorithms and touchscreens, technologies like writing, musical instruments, and even roads reshaped human life. These transformative tools and systems heralded profound changes in how we interact with one another, how we engage with the world around us, and ultimately, how we live.

As increasingly personalized technologies permeate our lives, such urgent questions arise as: How did we get here? What kinds of bodies do our technologies assume, require, or erase? What’s at stake when flesh becomes interface? And how might we redesign our path?

Our interactions with technology are dramas of skin, bone, information, rhythm, and power. Technologies refine, track, translate, and choreograph our behaviors; in doing so, they introduce new ways and languages of being, feeling, moving, and knowing.

Hands

As organs that extend consciousness into our surroundings, hands might be understood as the original interface—or as cartoonist Lynda Barry calls them, “the original digital device”—between human and world.

Paleoanthropologists, neuroscientists, and philosophers have stressed the evolutionary symbiosis of hand and mind. The hand mediates the most complex interactions of the human brain and the realm of technology. At the same time, our gestures have been shaped by an ongoing dialogue with our tools and our environments. As our earliest principal technology for information storage and retrieval, writing embodies this interplay.

Hands are smart. Hands are curious. Hands learn. Hands know things.

Despite the crucial role hands have played in the development of new technologies—and our bodies with them—there have been numerous attempts to automate the human hand out of the equation.

Automata, proto-robots built to act as if working under their own power but actually following a predetermined sequence of operations, have existed for over a millennium. Many of them are dedicated to mimicking the unique human performances of the hand, although they haven’t reproduced its intelligence.

How do bodies become information? In 1804, a French weaver patented a different kind of automaton that mimics and would eventually replace the intelligent hand. Named for its inventor, Joseph-Marie Jacquard, the Jacquard machine is an oft-cited ancestor in the history of modern computing. Fitted to a handloom, it is a mechanical surrogate for the weaver’s hand, a physical addendum to the weaving apparatus that automates the production of elaborately patterned fabric. By transforming the competence and creativity of the weaver’s hand into programmable code—ultimately supplanting that human expertise—the Jacquard loom became the first numerical control machine.

A 1951 advertisement for IBM’s Type 604 Electronic Calculating Punch featured a glowing human hand overlaid with its mechanical surrogate: vacuum tube modules arranged like fingers. The tagline reads, “Fingers You Can Count On.” More than just a sales pitch, the image dramatized a broader shift: the intelligent hand, once a symbol of craftsmanship, reimagined as a modular, electronic appendage—human labor abstracted into interchangeable, replaceable parts.

History, however, reminds us of the hand’s abiding creativity. By designing interfaces that serve human needs, rather than corporate metrics, we can reclaim the hand’s role as a living bridge between mind, body, and world.

Voice

Until the dawn of sound recording, the human voice was tethered to the human body. Speech and song were ephemeral, dissipating in almost the same instant that they sprang into being. At the end of the 19th century, sound recording severed the voice from the body and gave it a new and separate existence, extending what the technology of writing had long begun to do. Human voices could now endure beyond death, transcending the limits of the human body.

Like the hand, the voice is a threshold between body and world. Once only borne aloft in the air, its vibrations now travel wires, waves, and code. If writing extended the hand’s reach, sound recording gave the voice a second existence. Translated by machines, abstracted into data, and refigured into new forms, the voice has lived a thousand new lives—pressed into vinyl, remixed by DJs, morphed by Auto-Tune, parsed by speech recognition, and now reanimated by AI-generated vocal clones. These technologies have not only transformed how the human voice sounds, but how it is made, perceived, and preserved.

Ear

If the voice is how we reach outward, the ear is how we are reached. Our ears, once tuned by acoustic communities, are now calibrated by machines. From choirs to cochlear implants, music boxes to algorithmic playlists, listening has become a mediated act— private, curated, and data-driven.

The music box marked a turning point in the modern objectification of sound. Music boxes began to divorce ears from other speaking and singing bodies, restructuring listening from a communal act into an insular exchange between individual and machine. In so doing, music boxes began to create the channels for a new kind of hearing that would lead to our digital ears.

Since then, numerous mass-produced sound technologies have nourished and evolved the intimacy between ears and listening machines. Phonographs, gramophones, transistor radios, and later, magnetic tape, made it possible for people to listen to music in the absence of a performer. Several sound recording and storage technologies emerged in the wake of the phonograph’s invention. Whereas the music box, as an automated instrument, generated sound on its own, later technologies recorded and reproduced human performances. Each has spawned new auditory cultures, and with them, consonant reimaginations of the ear. As they transformed the voice from its pure alignment with the human soul to a more machinic object, they transformed listening cultures—and the ear itself.

Eye

Contemporary cameras, as we know them, unfix the eye from the body. Though now ubiquitous—embedded in nearly every phone and capable of high-resolution, high-focus capture— this was not always the case. Photography’s chief ancestor, the camera obscura, relies on the proximity of eye and image. Essentially a pinhole device, the camera obscura projects light through a small aperture into a darkened room or box, casting a live, inverted replica of the world outside—a shadow play of reality.

By the 16th century, the camera obscura had become a metaphor for human vision. This analogy defines the relationship between the eye and the seen world by immediacy: just as the outside world is projected onto a darkened room, so too is reality believed to be projected onto the eye through rays of light—an image cast upon the body. Photography descends from the camera obscura, turning projection into permanence. Whereas the camera obscura was ephemeral, the photograph imprints projected reality onto a surface, making it durable, portable, and endlessly reproducible. In so doing, it initiated the detachment of seeing from the physical act of looking. Vision, once anchored in the immediacy of the body, became something that could be captured, stored, and transmitted.

Yet, even as both vision and photography evolved into increasingly complex systems, no longer limited to the eye or lens, the metaphor of the camera as the eye endures. The persistence of this metaphor illustrates a deeper paradox at the heart of digital embodiment: we trust what we see, even though we are aware that sight can be deceiving. When machines inherit the work of the senses, we transfer that trust to them—forgetting, once again, that the eye has always been fallible. And as developments in imaging technologies have evolved, so too has the digital eye. Today’s digital eyes—those of smartphone cameras, Photoshop algorithms, and computer vision systems—do not see as the eye sees, nor do they operate by the same principles of immediacy that the camera obscura once did. They reconstruct, enhance, filter, and infer. As we increasingly outsource seeing to machines, the very nature of sight itself is transformed. Yet, cameras and the images they produce remain important referents for our reality, even as that reality becomes ever more fluid, manipulated, and abstracted. The digital gaze does not simply record the world; it remakes the very relationship between our bodies and the realities they claim to represent, between what is seen and what is believed.

Foot

The human foot is a marvel of evolutionary engineering, distinguishing us from other animals. The first hominins, the earliest members of our lineage, didn’t have large brains like modern humans, didn’t use sophisticated technology, and didn’t talk. They did, however, walk on two legs. Our feet are the very foundation of modern humanity as we know it. Bipedalism is the most ancient human adaptation, setting the stage for many characteristics that distinguish us as humans, including our reliance on tools and technology, language, and dietary flexibility. It freed human hands for tools and communication, and breath for speech. Walking—upright, that is—is as central to our humanity as writing and singing to one another. Our feet embody this extraordinary legacy and history. As Leonardo da Vinci is said to have remarked, “The human foot is a masterpiece of engineering and a work of art.”

As vehicles for our bodies, our feet serve as a primary interface between ourselves and the world. With the advent of self-tracking technologies that turn our footsteps into information, they, too, have become fodder for systems that flatten the nuance of lived experience. The notion that one must walk ten thousand steps daily for health has become almost as much of a maxim as that ancient adage, “A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.” It might be truer to say instead that a journey of ten thousand steps begins with a single pedometer.

While walking may be the most natural thing in the world (for those who are ambulatory), it is increasingly being integrated into technological systems. Impregnated with information-gathering sensors, smart cities are the inexorable conclusion of this logic. Cities are becoming algorithmic labs for human movement.

Body

Technology desires disappearance. When a tool is working as intended, you don’t think about it—until it breaks. This kind of disappearance doesn’t just require a good tool; it demands skill and practice of the human using it. Like a surgeon with a scalpel or a carpenter with a chisel using their intelligent hands, disappearance is a collaboration between well-made tools and disciplined bodies. Digital technologies push this further still: the ideal tool is one that will completely dissolve, making the human body itself the interface.

We’re already living in mixed reality. Our bodies are entangled in a dance with data: computers track our keystrokes, footsteps, and heartbeats; they reproduce and organize our movements; intelligent systems choreograph our journeys, large and small; we socialize through electronic sound and through avatars in virtual spaces. Extended reality technologies don’t simply show us other worlds; they clarify the one we’re already in and reveal how deeply our lives are intertwined with computation.

We burnish our digital images (I’ll admit that mine is lightly airbrushed by the Touch Up My Appearance option in my Zoom preferences). We feed ourselves to the technologies we use, seeking to transcend the limits of our bodies and minds. We are spit out as ghosts of the platforms that puppet us. The term “ghost in the machine” has been used as a crude and derogatory jab at Descartes’s mind-body dualism—the idea that our minds animate our bodies like spirits inhabiting a shell. One version of the body digital inverts this: the mind floats free, divorced from our bodies and assimilated by platforms. But we are not disembodied minds. We are deeply rooted in flesh, blood, and bone. Any future worth building must remember that.

Mind

In their landmark 1998 paper “The Extended Mind,” philosophers of mind Andy Clark and David Chalmers asked, “Where does the mind stop and the rest of the world begin?” Their answer has become one of the most influential articulations of the extended mind thesis, which rejects the conventional view that the mind resides solely within the brain, stopping at the skull and skin. Rather, they proposed that cognition arises from the dynamic interplay of brain, body, and tool. A pencil, a notebook, or a computer screen can become so integrated into our mental processes that they functionally bring about our cognitive abilities as much as our brains. The mind, in this view, is porous: it reaches into the world, and the world reaches back. Cognition, then, is not contained but distributed—emerging from an ecology of brain, body, and environment.

From grocery lists to encyclopedias, writing extends the human mind by offloading the burdens of memory, storing and retrieving information outside the body. Writing is a technology that allows us to outsource individual and collective memory. By sustaining the creation of informational archives that can be referenced, literacy made possible new forms of interaction with language. New techniques of information storage afforded the structured accumulation of knowledge. Once formulated, information can be reformulated with increasing precision. In this way, literacy laid the groundwork for the disciplines of logic, philosophy, and science in general—the knowledge infrastructures that would, centuries later, give rise to AI.

Writing has never been a solo act. Facilitated by AI, our writing should connect us with our past as much as with our future, with one another as much as ourselves. The best human writing challenges us to open our minds, not close them. We owe it to ourselves to tell stories with this new technology that does the same. If we must write with machines, let it not be to replicate, but to reimagine ourselves.

Rather than reflexively embracing or rejecting new technologies, we must ask: Do they expand or contract our horizons? Do they sustain care, curiosity, and complexity—or reduce us to what can be measured and predicted? How do they shape how we see, move, feel, speak, and connect? The history of our digital bodies shows that the ecologies we create are never neutral. They reflect how we choose to know one another, and how we allow ourselves to be known.

Between Life and Death: What Near-Death Experiences Reveal About Consciousness

Near-death experiences (NDEs) are a widely reported yet poorly understood phenomenon. Though there is no agreed-upon definition of an NDE, it has been described as “profound psychological events with transcendental and mystical elements, typically occurring in individuals close to death or in situations of intense physical or emotional danger,” according to a study published in the Yearbook of Intensive Care and Emergency Medicine 2009. NDEs are reported in 4 to 9 percent of the population and among nearly 23 percent of patients who are critically ill. Healthy individuals who think they are in danger may also experience them.

With the improvement of technology and resuscitation techniques, people have become more curious about this topic. The 2012 book Proof of Heaven, written by retired American neurosurgeon Eben Alexander, popularized the concept of NDEs. As he lay close to death, in a coma caused by a brain infection, he had a transformative experience that included traveling through a black void “brimming over with light: a light that seemed to come from a brilliant orb,” he said, according to BBC Science Focus magazine.

Such experiences, for which we have only the subjective reports of patients, usually occur when an individual is in “transitory and reversible cardiac arrest,” which is another way of saying, “clinically dead.” Without resuscitation and other interventions, recovery of brain function more than three minutes after a cardiac arrest is rare. For a person to be dead, however, the U.S. Uniform Determination of Death Act requires that physicians decide, by applying prevailing clinical criteria, that cardiorespiratory or brain functions are absent and cannot be restored.

Patients who have had NDEs often report having heard themselves being pronounced dead. Still, far from experiencing alarm, they report feeling a sense of peace. These accounts frequently include hearing unusual noises, seeing a dark tunnel, experiencing out-of-body sensations, encountering spiritual beings, witnessing a bright light or a “being of light,” entering a realm of bewildering spirits, sensing a boundary or limit, and finally, returning to their physical bodies. According to the study published in 2009, interviews with individuals who have had NDEs have pointed out five stages that occur in the following order: “(1) a feeling of peace and well-being; (2) separation from the physical body; (3) entering a region of darkness; (4) seeing a bright light; and (5) going through the light and entering another realm.”

Origin of the Term

The term “near-death experience” was coined by physician Raymond Moody in 1975, who used it in the context of out-of-body experiences, although the term had been used three years earlier by John C. Lilly. In his book Life After Life (1976), Moody claimed that 150 near-death survivors reported positive visionary experiences of passing down a dark tunnel toward a bright light. But descriptions of these experiences go back further.

The French term expérience de mort imminente (experience of imminent death) was proposed by French psychologist and epistemologist Victor Egger in the 1890s. Such experiences were noted by clinicians based on observations of workers who had fallen from scaffolds, soldiers who had suffered terrible injuries on the battlefield, and climbers who had tumbled from slopes. In 1968, Celia Green published an analysis of 400 first-hand accounts of out-of-body experiences. She was the first to see NDEs as experiences worth investigating rather than as anomalous perceptions or hallucinations.

Who Reports a Near-Death Experience?

Scientists have tried to explain how and why NDEs occur. There are two scales typically used to measure NDEs based on subjective accounts: The Weighted Core Experience Index (WCEI) and the NDE scale created by Greyson. The WCEI has 10 components, which are scored based on their presence or absence. (The maximum score is 29.)

Clinical studies suggest that the characteristics of NDEs do not vary by culture. However, some researchers have revealed differences. “The variability across cultures is most likely to be due to our interpretation and verbalizing of such esoteric events through the filters of language, cultural experiences, religion, education and their influence on our belief systems either shedding influence as an individual variable or more often perhaps by their rich interplay between these factors,” stated a 2008 study published in the journal Transcultural Psychiatry.

The frequency of these experiences in survivors of cardiac arrest varies from 2 to 13 percent, and they seem to be more common in younger patients. Significantly more patients who had an NDE, especially a deep experience, died within 30 days of being resuscitated, a 2001 Lancet study found, adding that “[t]he process of transformation after NDE took several years, and differed from those of patients who survived cardiac arrest without NDE.”

The Lancet study also stated that 62 (18 percent) of 344 cardiac arrest survivors reported a near-death experience, and 41 of them scored six or more on the WCEI. Also, there were no reports of patients experiencing distressing NDEs. Factors such as medication, fear of death before cardiac arrest, and the duration of the NDE were ruled out as possible explanations for why the patients had the experience. However, people below age 60 were more likely than older people to report an NDE, along with people suffering their first myocardial infarction. Women were more likely to report vivid NDEs after surviving cardiac arrest, and they tended to be older: 66 versus 61 years of age for male survivors.

In another study published by Signa Vitae in 2011, researchers showed that the severity of a life-threatening situation was associated with a higher incidence of NDEs, suggesting that they are more likely to occur in patients who find themselves “closer to death or have a lesser possibility for survival.”

The Organic Explanation

Researchers Dr. Charlotte Martial, Coma Science Group at the University Hospital of Liège, and Chris Timmermann, Imperial College Psychedelic Research Group, believe that there is a “scientific, neurochemical explanation for NDEs,” according to the 2020 article in BBC Science Focus. Martial said she is “very convinced by such explanations.” However, Timmerman acknowledges that “definite proof might be impossible with our current tools because it would require researchers to probe the brains of human beings at the moment of death, which is unethical.”

Many scientists, however, believe that even without the limitations Timmerman cites, they can still conclude that NDEs are the result of chemically induced brain functions when the brain is under stress. To explain the phenomenon, researchers have theorized that it results from endorphin-induced limbic brain activity, altered temporal lobe activity, and anoxic seizures due to a sudden lack of oxygen in the brain. They have also proposed ketamine-like endogenous hallucinogens, cerebral hypoxia (a lack of oxygen) or hypercarbia (an excess of CO2), an excess of serotonin or endorphins, and responses to prescribed drugs as causative factors.

Significant epileptiform electroencephalographic (EEG) activity, as seen in epilepsy, has also been observed in individuals who reported having an NDE when compared with control patients.

During cardiac arrest, brain activity is assumed to be diminishing. Nonetheless, researchers who conducted studies on rats have found more brain activity than they initially expected, thanks to brain scans that reveal a surge of synchronized gamma oscillations as well as high levels of interregional coherence and feedback connectivity, all of which may account for NDEs. Another theory, shared in the 2017 book Coma and Disorders of Consciousness, edited by Caroline Schnakers and Steven Laureys, suggests that impaired cerebral oxygen levels in the context of a cardiac arrest might lead to a disruption of the physiological balance between conscious and unconscious states, resulting in rapid eye movement (REM) sleep, which could cause visual hallucinations. Some of those who have reported experiencing an NDE have also been found to be more sensitive to being woken during REM sleep and sleep paralysis.

“Of course, the brain does funny things when it’s running out of oxygen,” wrote the neuroscientist Colin Blakemore. He added, “The odd perceptions are just the consequences of confused activity in the temporal lobes.”

Psychological Explanation

Psychological models proposed to explain NDEs have focused on dissociative, protective mechanisms that might manifest as wish-fulfilling hallucinations in a situation of danger. These mechanisms might also lead to partial or distorted memories when a patient is unconscious. Nonetheless, researchers still have to determine why some people reported an NDE and others, who were also close to death, did not. One explanation is that patients who reported an NDE might be predisposed due to activity in the temporal lobe of the brain. Those who survived an NDE subsequently reported a change in their beliefs, attitudes, or values. They also described having a reduced fear of death, greater motivation, and a better stress response.

Researchers have been unable to determine whether surviving an NDE causes these changes or whether the realization of the closeness to death is responsible for them. Most, however, agreed that surviving an NDE had a profound effect on their family, social, and spiritual relationships, as the effect was not limited to patients alone. A 2012 study of 476 hospital nurses in Italy found that 34 percent of those who had personally encountered NDE were more positive about the phenomenon and the assistance they could provide to their patients than the nursing staff who had not treated such patients.

Is it possible that dying or the awareness of impending death can be a triggering factor for an NDE? As the researcher J.E. Owens and his colleagues have written: “[I]t would seem that among individuals who were not near-death, their experiences could be precipitated by the belief that they were.” This is known as the “expectation hypothesis,” which postulates that NDEs originate from an altered state of consciousness triggered by a life-threatening condition that, without medical care, could result in death.

In cases like this, the individual’s system of beliefs and expectations of both dying and a possible afterlife might make the occurrence of an NDE more likely. Another theory, known as the “depersonalization and dissociation hypothesis,” postulates that, upon facing a life-threatening situation, an individual disconnects from the external world and experiences fantasies as a projective defense mechanism to make the imminence of death more comprehensible and less distressing, according to Coma and Disorders of Consciousness.

An Integrative Model

An integrative model of organic theories has proposed that traumatic events cause brain stress. This model suggests that the release of neurotransmitters produces effects such as analgesia (the inability to feel pain), euphoria, and detachment. These effects, along with decreases in oxygen, can lead to hallucinations and a detached perspective on one’s life. As these neurotransmitters travel through the brain, they can produce further hallucinations and the sensation of seeing a bright light.

Many of the key features of an NDE bear remarkable similarities to those seen in people who have taken psychedelic drugs. Psychedelics act on the serotonergic system in the brain (the system in the brain which controls the neurotransmitter serotonin and is involved in mood and perception, along with other functions). Such psychedelics include lysergic acid diethylamide (LSD), psilocybin (the hallucinogenic compound in magic mushrooms), and dimethyltryptamine (DMT), or the “spirit molecule,” found in many plants of the Amazon basin.

A team led by Timmermann and Robin Carhart-Harris at Imperial College, including Martial in Belgium, in 2018, observed “few discernible differences” between actual NDEs and experiences induced by DMT. This view is based on the similarity of the “first-person descriptions of approximately 15,000 psychedelic ‘trips’ with the retrospective first-person accounts of several hundred NDEs collected in Belgium and the USA,” stated Science Focus. According to the interpretation given by these scientists, the NDEs were much like drug-induced trips, especially for those who had taken ketamine, a “dissociative psychedelic” that is used as an anesthetic.

Still, there are disagreements among some experts. International psychedelics expert David E. Nichols argued in a 2018 paper “that the concentrations of DMT in the brain are too minute to be responsible for the psychoactive effects observed during NDEs. However, he says that ‘as a scientist, I do believe there is a neurochemical explanation for an NDE,’” added the Science Focus article. He did admit that since no one has come back from the dead to report what happened to them, no one can be sure that a drug such as DMT or ketamine is a valuable model for an NDE.

A First-Person Account of an NDE

The well-known journalist and writer Sebastian Junger (author of the bestselling book The Perfect Storm) recounts his own NDE experience in his 2025 book In My Time of Dying: How I Came Face-to-Face with the Idea of an Afterlife. In an interview with Maria Schriver’s Sunday Paper, he discussed how common NDEs are: “They happen in societies around the world and certainly have happened forever. Our medical knowledge allows doctors to bring people who are dying, like I was, back into the world of the living. We have many more stories of people who are on the threshold and what they remember. There are some medical explanations, but I found them to be not entirely sufficient. Some researchers believe that it’s not proof but evidence of some kind of post-death existence. Then other people who are equally well-informed say nonsense, this is neurochemicals, and it’s blood oxygen, and it’s a form of seizure. So, there are all kinds of straightforward medical explanations for the dying brain having visions.”

As he lay dying, he saw his father. “That could have been entirely cooked up by my own dying brain, and it is still comforting. The relationship that we have with the dead continues in our minds until we die. At the very least, the relationship I had in my mind with my father changed. He was very sweet, but he was on the spectrum, and he was hard to reach emotionally as a father. So, I didn’t sort of count on him throughout my life and as a child for that baseline emotional support. But then, there he was, and it really did sort of change things for me.”

His brush with death made him, an atheist, reconsider his beliefs: “but this all did make me think that possibly on a subatomic or quantum level, we don’t really understand existence, life, death, reality, consciousness, or universe and that there’s some sort of post-death reality to the individual that we can’t —and maybe never will be able to—make sense of and then that’s what people keep bumping into around experiences like this.”

A Problem for Research

Some scientists, such as Dr. Bruce Greyson, professor emeritus of psychiatry and neurobehavioral sciences at the University of Virginia and co-author of The Handbook of Near-Death Experiences, think that “NDEs …present us with data that are difficult to explain by current physiological or psychological models,” he wrote in 2013.

Is it even possible to explain NDEs? Most published works on NDEs are considered both “retrospective and sporadic.” These events pose a particular challenge, as there is no certainty about their occurrence and they are generally not reported soon after they happen but rather days, months, or even years later, which can lead to distortions in personal accounts.

“[T]here is currently no consensual or satisfying scientific explanation for NDEs. … The claims that NDEs are evidence for life after death may have contributed to the reluctance of designing rigorous empirical protocols to study such a ‘pseudoscience’ phenomenon,” states Coma and Disorders of Consciousness. The emerging neurosciences evidence suggests that NDEs can be explained by modifications or alterations of brain functions, leading to an altered state of consciousness in critically ill patients.

Because studies of these events have been limited to a few patients, researchers have also found that it is impossible to determine which factors account for these events. The administration of drugs might also trigger the effect during the period of arrest.

Unpleasant Responses

Not all NDEs are pleasant, nor do they imbue patients with the sense that there is life after death. Studies of patients who have undergone frightening experiences may be challenging to conduct because people are reluctant to report them. These “inverse experiences,” as they’re called, are often perceived as an alien reality and are highly stressful. Other reports have documented “perceptions of emptiness” and even a “‘hellish’ encounter with threatening entities, and various accoutrements of the traditional hell, marked by perceptions of impending judgment and torment,” added the book.

These distressing NDEs occur under a wide range of circumstances and feature many of the same elements as pleasant NDEs. Researchers who have reviewed clinical studies spanning decades have been unable to explain why these types of NDEs occur or why specific individuals may be susceptible to them. The idea that “good” people will have pleasant NDEs and bad people distressing ones has been debunked.

Survivors of an inverse NDE find the experience hostile. One man who got thrown from a horse experienced himself floating “at treetop height, watching emergency medical technicians working over… his body. ‘No! No! This isn’t right!’ He screamed, ‘Put me back!’ but they did not hear him. Next, he was shooting through darkness toward a bright light, flashing past shadowy people who seemed to be deceased family members waiting. He was panic-stricken by the bizarre scenario and his inability to affect what was happening,” according to a narrative published in the Missouri Medicine journal in 2014.

An NDE of the “void” is an existential encounter often accompanied by a sense of being alone, isolated, or being annihilated.

In the so-called hellish scenarios, survivors report plummeting to the gates of hell or being escorted through a desolate landscape and encountering wandering spirits that seemed to be lost and in pain. Another survivor, an atheist university professor, described being “torn apart by malevolent beings.”

Distressing near-death experiences are both fascinating and frustrating as altered states of consciousness. Because of the deeply rooted concept of hell in Western culture and its Christian association with eternal physical torment, they pose serious challenges to individuals who may shape their lives around such a profoundly durable event, as well as to their families, friends, and physicians. In the absence of clear-cut clinical data and universal cultural views, physicians are advised that neutrality of opinion and careful listening are likely the best professional practice for dealing with distressing near-death experiences.

Long-Term Effects

How people report NDEs appears to be influenced in many respects by the culture they were raised in—for instance, whether they believe that they have glimpsed heaven or hell. Christians tend to see Jesus or St. Peter, Hindus see Brahma, and Buddhists may see the “bardo,” or transitional states between reincarnations as described in the Tibetan Book of the Dead.

Longitudinal studies have demonstrated long-lasting transformational effects of near-death experiences on a person’s understanding of life and self, social attitudes, and a shift in social customs and religious beliefs. Those survivors who have undergone distressing NDEs, on the other hand, may suffer from long-term trauma. One of the principal components of near-death experiences is the out-of-body experience, which is associated with the partial impairment of consciousness and disruption of normal bodily functions.

According to the Near-Death Experience Research Foundation, which has collected more than 5,000 accounts from across the world, most survivors reported a sense of peace and energy when they felt as though they were dying. They observed that time did not exist during these experiences. Marieta Pehlivanova, a research assistant professor of psychiatry and neurobehavioral sciences at the University of Virginia School of Medicine’s Division of Perceptual Studies, noted during an interview that those who had a brush with death and did not have an NDE also experienced changes in their lives. Still, the effects were subtle.

However, survivors of NDEs who participated in a study by Akierah Binas and Jamie Gruman, both from the University of Guelph, Canada, reported a desire to engage in work that was more meaningful and fulfilling after their experiences. “I was not interested in doing nonsense,” one participant commented. Many of the other participants reported that they had changed careers by shifting their work priorities, with some even going on to start their own companies. Rather than focusing on external measures of success such as salary or titles, they were more interested in living lives that were “authentic” and motivated by a need to make a positive difference, wrote the two researchers in the Conversation. The findings of a previous research are consistent with these observations. “Specifically,” NDEs shift individual outlooks on life and can serve as catalysts for transformation, influencing how people relate to others.”

The Line Between Life and Death

The boundary between life and death, never distinct to begin with, has only become more blurred. Scientists have found evidence of what they term “a third state,” in which the cells of a “dead” organism are not only alive but are also capable of sometimes acquiring new abilities they never had while the organism was alive.

This research, which was published in the journal Physiology, was led by Peter Noble from the University of Washington in Seattle and Alex Pozhitkov from the City of Hope National Medical Center in Duarte, California.

“Life and death are traditionally viewed as opposites,” the researchers wrote in the Conversation. “But the emergence of new multicellular life-forms from the cells of a dead organism introduces a ‘third state’ that lies beyond the traditional boundaries of life and death.”

The cells in this third state demonstrate their new capabilities when given sufficient fuel in the form of nutrients, oxygen, bioelectricity, or biochemical signals. In 2021, for instance, scientists found that skin cells from dead frogs could spontaneously form multicellular organisms—actual living machines called “xenobots.” These xenobots used hairlike structures called cilia to move through their surroundings, a behavior they never exhibited while the frogs were alive. These xenobots could also heal themselves and were capable of limited replication.

In another study, it was found that human lung cells derived from dead organisms could self-organize into tiny multicellular organisms known as “anthrobots.” Ranging in size from the width of a human hair to the tip of a sharpened pencil, anthrobots can act as multicellular robots capable of self-assembly, self-healing, and repair, and demonstrate a healing effect on damaged nerve cells.

How these xenobots and anthrobots do these astonishing things is a mystery. Some scientists speculate that a hidden circuit of electrical currents animates them or that they require an adequate supply of nutrients and energy before they are reanimated. Other scientists believe that temperature and environment may play an essential role in the ‘postmortem landscape.” The unusual behavior of specific cells in this third state does hold out the possibility of innovative treatments—to dissolve arterial plaque in atherosclerosis, for instance, or clear mucus in people with cystic fibrosis.

It is unlikely we will ever fully understand the causes of near-death experiences, leaving us to rely on survivors’ accounts. People readily embrace uplifting stories—less so the disturbing ones—because they seem to affirm belief in life after death. While scientists studying NDEs attribute them to neurological causes, even conclusive findings are unlikely to overturn the widespread conviction that clinical death marks not an end, but a beginning.

You Can Learn a Lot About Someone’s Mind From the Way They Talk

Sherlock Holmes, the famous fictional detective, believed that his brother, Mycroft, could also have been a brilliant solver of crimes if he had not been so impossibly lazy. Mycroft was large and slow-moving, and he avoided all unnecessary exertion. He enjoyed sitting by a window and making ingenious deductions from his close observations of the people and activities he saw outside. But rousing himself to leave home and investigate some far-flung crime scene? That was not for him.

Mycroft did venture out to visit his beloved Diogenes Club across the street from his London apartment. The Diogenes Club was in most ways a typical British gentlemen’s club, stocked with many of the usual trappings to please a Victorian gentleman—drink, food, servants, comfy chairs in which to puff a cigar and read the newspaper. It deviated from other clubs in one glaring respect. Mycroft and the other club founders established a rule prohibiting an activity that was a mainstay of other gentlemen’s clubs. The rule was so strict that members who disobeyed it were expelled. What was this activity that Mycroft Holmes so deeply wanted to avoid?

Talking. The Diogenes Club forbade talking. It’s not entirely clear why the club founders made this rule, but I think I know why. Mycroft Holmes, deep thinker, exquisite observer, highly averse to expending effort, had made a brilliant deduction: Talking is hard work.

Talking is Hard

Talking is not physically demanding in the same way as running a marathon, but our brains are working much harder when we speak than when we’re reading or understanding someone else in conversation. We don’t notice the effort of talking because what’s going on in our brains is mainly hidden from us. We’re aware of what we say, and what other people are saying, and occasionally we’re aware when something goes wrong and there’s a misunderstanding. Most of the time, though, our brains don’t reveal what they’re doing or how much they’re working.

It’s challenging to measure mental effort because it’s hidden in the brain, but researchers have figured out some tricks to get a better sense of what’s going on. There’s an ingenious technique that doesn’t require assessing the difficult-to-measure activity, like the hidden mental work of talk planning. Instead, it asks how much this mental activity interferes with simultaneously doing a second activity that’s much easier to measure.

If talking is difficult and we make some research participants do something else while talking, then people should be slow on this second task or make lots of errors doing it, because their brains are being consumed with the demands of talking. And if comprehension is easier than talking, then people should be better at simultaneously doing this other activity while understanding another talker.

My favorite example of this method was developed by Amit Almor, who was previously a postdoctoral researcher in my lab. Now he’s a professor at the University of South Carolina.

Almor and his graduate students used the talking-plus-another-task technique to measure the difficulty of both speaking and comprehending someone else. They invited undergraduate students to bring a friend to the lab to have a conversation. In the experiment, the pair of friends sat down across from each other, each in front of a computer. The friends were told that they could talk to each other about whatever they wanted, but one of them was given a second job to do. The friend with the second job would see a moving dot on their computer screen, and they had to use the computer mouse to keep the cursor as close as possible to the dot. Keeping the cursor on the dot was tricky because the dot sometimes changed speed and direction unpredictably. The friend had to do this dot-tracking while still being involved in the conversation.

Almor’s research team used computer software to measure how many screen pixels separated the moving dot and the cursor at any time, which gave them an exact measure of when the dot-tracking was going well and when it wasn’t. They calculated the accuracy of dot-tracking at many different conversation points—when the tracker was speaking versus listening, starting to speak, finishing their turn in the conversation, listening to the start of the other person’s speech, and listening when the speaker was winding down.

You can probably predict the first big result: Overall, folks were much worse at dot-tracking while they were speaking than while they were listening. But the experiment also revealed interesting patterns of how difficulty waxes and wanes during a conversation. On the talking side, beginning to talk about something is tough, resulting in relatively poor performance on dot-tracking. Talking gets much easier when the speaker is close to finishing what they were saying.

Why? Because when we first start to say something, talking already requires us to do two things at once. We are doing all the muscle movements to get the first words out, and we’re simultaneously doing the mental processes of planning what’s going to come out next. Toward the end of whatever the speaker is saying, it becomes much easier because there’s nothing left to plan, and the speaker just has to say the final words.

Meanwhile, the listener has a relatively easy job early on, but when the speaker is finishing up, difficulty for the listener spikes, and their dot-tracking tanks. Again, why? It’s because the listener senses that the speaker is getting ready to finish what they wanted to say, and it’s soon going to be time to reply. Now suddenly, the listener, who’s soon to become the one talking, has several jobs to do at once. They must continue to understand what their friend is saying, start planning their reply, and also figure out exactly when it’s their turn to talk.

Reply planning begins early, even as the other person is still talking, because waiting until they finish would result in a long, awkward pause while the listener figures out what to say. Indeed, devising the plan for what is about to be said—picking the words, putting them in order, arranging their pronunciation—usually turns out to be the most challenging component of talking, in part because planning is often being done while also listening or speaking.

If talking makes it hard to follow a dot on a screen, imagine what it can do to driving a car. Many states prohibit driving while texting or talking on a cell phone. Most people assume these laws exist because drivers may take their eyes off the road and their hands off the wheel while using a cell phone. Those are very good reasons for prohibiting cell phone use while driving, but that’s only part of the story. Studies using a driving simulator rather than a dot-tracking task show similar results: Simply speaking aloud impairs driving, and vice versa.

Lying While Talking (and Detecting Lies) is Even Harder

People sometimes lie. Maybe you’ve even tried it yourself. Of course you have, because everyone does at least some minor lying. Perhaps you’ve claimed that another engagement prevents you from going to your cousin’s barbecue, or you’ve called in sick on a workday packed with boring meetings, or you’ve told your sister that you’re not upset at her, not one bit.

Part of the reason that we produce these small-scale lies is that we can get away with them. That’s another way of saying that the people we’re lying to often aren’t sure whether we’re lying or not. But language analyses might not be so easily fooled.

Left to our own intuitions, we are terrible at detecting lies. Several careful studies of lie detection have shown that we’re often no better than random guessing in distinguishing truth and lies in all kinds of situations. We struggle to distinguish between genuine and fake opinions, real and fake news, honest and untruthful reports in crime investigations, and authentic and counterfeit reviews of merchandise posted online.

Imagine for a moment that you’re on trial for a crime, that witnesses are testifying, and that twelve earnest people in the jury box are doing their job, listening carefully. Unfortunately, those jurors may be incapable of figuring out which witnesses are telling the truth.

We’re in big trouble if detectives, prosecutors, judges, and jurors can’t tell a truthful witness report from lies, but the problems don’t stop there. Fake news and other lies have led many people to try crackpot remedies for diseases or reject scientifically supported medical care, sometimes with fatal consequences. False advertising and scams routinely defraud people of their life savings. All over the world, governments use disinformation to control citizens in authoritarian regimes and to influence citizens of foreign countries, with the United States being a prime target of disinformation campaigns from overseas.

It’s no wonder that we can develop feelings of cynicism and helplessness around determining what’s true, eroding our faith in science, medicine, government, media, and each other, even in situations in which objective evidence is available.

Several education programs have been launched to train high school and college students to identify false information better. Some of these programs have failed spectacularly: In the process of exposing the students to false statements in the service of training them to distinguish truth and lies, the students don’t just fail to improve; they get worse. The exposure to fake information during training makes it seem more familiar and therefore more true. At least with the programs available so far, we’re not going to train ourselves out of this problem anytime soon. That’s why some people look to technology for help in sorting truth from lies.

The first device to offer some improvement in lie detection was the polygraph machine. You’ve likely seen these in old movies and detective shows. An interviewer asks someone a series of questions, and physiological measures—the interviewee’s heart rate, breathing, and so on—help the trained polygraph examiner to judge whether the person is lying or telling the truth.

Alas, many studies have concluded that polygraph-assisted lie detection is not highly accurate and is subject to biases by the human polygraph operator. That’s why polygraphs are associated with old movies—they’re less commonly used today. Polygraphs also have the disadvantage that the person being examined must be physically present, wearing all the measurement devices. That’s unfortunate, because there are endless situations where we want to know the truth of something said on the phone, on social media, in a trial, in a public debate, or in a podcast or TV interview.

Computer analysis of transcripts of speech or writing might fill some of the need for better lie detection. These analyses don’t require the talker to be present, and they don’t require any special equipment to be worn by the talker.

There are two general ways in which a person’s talk might reveal their truthfulness. The first idea is that truthful thoughts might slip out while someone is telling lies. This theory arose over a century ago, proposed by Sigmund Freud, the father of psychoanalysis. Freud believed that errors during talking could reveal our unconscious thoughts, as when someone accidentally says the truth, “I had to kill them,” when they had intended to lie and say, “I had to save them.” If Freud is right about unconscious thoughts leaking into our talk, we might look at errors like these for signs of lying.

Well, it’s not that simple. Applying what we know about how we plan our talk, this “kill them” error likely reflects the word kill being pulled out of long-term memory instead of save. Yes, this mistake in memory retrieval might indicate the talker’s failed intent to suppress the fact that they have killed someone. But other possibilities are also likely. Kill might have come up from memory because the person contemplated saying the truthful statement, “I had to save them from being killed.” Or the error might arise for some other reason; talkers make word substitution errors like these all the time, without any hidden thoughts.

If I accidentally say, “Turn right,” instead of “Turn left,” or “I’ll chop the onions,” when I mean that I’m chopping the garlic, I’m not lying or revealing any unconscious obsessions with garlic or left turns. Errors like these happen regularly because the process of retrieving just the right words from memory is complex and imperfect. Mistakes happen, and we can’t use them as clear evidence of lying.

If we can’t rely on errors to reveal the truth in our conversations, we need to explore a second method: the fact that talking is hard work. Remember that it can be quite challenging to talk while doing something else, such as driving or tracking a moving dot on a computer screen. Talking while lying is also doing several things at once: Someone who’s telling a story truthfully is using a memory of real events to drive their words and other aspects of planning what to say, but a liar is simultaneously planning their talking while also trying to make up something they didn’t experience and hide what they want to keep hidden.

The liar’s extra difficulty can be reflected in their talk. The liar’s story, which drives the words they choose, is likely going to be less detailed than when someone speaks truthfully, because the liar doesn’t have the real memory to draw on. The liar may also be trying to suppress reference to some real events but mix other events into their story, all while generally trying to sound like they’re telling the truth. Talking while lying makes for a cocktail of difficulty, and the consequence may be that a liar’s talk is not like the truth teller’s.

Researchers have tested these ideas by randomly assigning people to either tell the truth or lie about something—such as a specific event, their opinion on a controversial issue, and so on. The researchers then analyzed patterns in speech or writing to search for features that distinguish the people who were told to lie from the ones who were told to tell the truth. In some cases, other folks were asked to read the statements and try to identify which ones were true and which were lies.

These studies have turned up several interesting results. Once again, human judges weren’t any better than random guessing at detecting true versus false statements. Computer analyses of the language of truthful and lying talkers showed better results. The language analyses correctly assigned two-thirds of the written and spoken statements to the “truth” and “lie” categories. That’s still far from perfect, but it’s much better than we can do on our own.

As usual, the computer analyses are making their guesses based on a large pile of cues that they uncover, but we can look at some of the significant patterns. Overall, truthful texts had more complex language than the lies. This difference played out in several ways, including the factual statements having more abstract thought-related words, such as the verbs think and believe. The factual statements also had more words indicating nuance in beliefs, like except and without.

False statements often used very common verbs, such as “go,” and provided little discussion of the nuances of any opinion. A liar’s fake message is sketchy compared to someone’s real report, and the phony message can’t generate rich descriptive words, leaving the liar’s story limited to generalities.

Lying on a Larger Scale: Fake News

Researchers are trying to take these controlled experiments, in which they know who is lying and who is not, out into the real world, to address issues such as detecting fake news. Fake news is typically written by professional fake-news writers rather than everyday people instructed to lie, as in the study we just saw. Fake news might therefore be harder to detect than lies generated on command in an experiment.

The difficulty in spotting fake news is a serious problem. Even provably false statements can persuade some people, and all of us are likely tempted to believe some fake news, given our overall low skill in detecting lies.

Computer algorithms trained to distinguish real and fake news have found that the counterfeit reports tend to be more surprising than real news. Most real news has some sameness to it—a new law was passed, the on-ramp to Highway 12 is closed for road repairs, travelers are experiencing holiday flight delays, same old stuff. Real journalists file reports on important events even if they are not particularly surprising, but fake news is designed to grab our attention. On average, fake news is more surprising and unusual than the real thing. Whereas unprofessional liars produce lies that are vague and neutral, the professional lies of fake news go for the attention-grabbing jugular.

Fake-news creators also include emotional commentary that manipulates the reader’s emotions. All of this interesting, emotionally engaging, and fake text can be churned out faster than real news can be reported, because fake news doesn’t require time-consuming editing, fact-checking, or other activities of objective journalism. It can even be generated by artificial intelligence systems that have been trained on the language patterns in fake news stories.

Fake news that includes photos tends to have better pictures than real news, as real news photographers are limited by the real people or scenes related to the story. In contrast, fake news generators can scour stock photo sites or manipulate photos to create something eye-popping.

The high levels of interest in and emotional engagement with fake news are undoubtedly part of the problem that fake news poses. A study of fake news on X (formerly Twitter) showed that it’s retweeted and reposted far more often than real news, spreading six times as fast by some measurements. And we can’t blame automated bots for this problem; the rapid spread of fake news appears to be due to humans retweeting it, not computerized bots. And consider what research studies have found about hate speech—the more often someone produces an opinion, the more strongly they believe it. We can expect the same regarding the repetition and reposting of fake news.

I’d like to be able to tell you that high-powered computer analyses are powerful allies in the fight against fake news, but the truth is much more sobering. There is intensive ongoing research on computer models for fake-news detection, and the field is rapidly evolving, but as I’m writing this, the many approaches being tested are not really doing that well.

Good detection of fake news requires not only knowledge of language patterns but also awareness of events going on in the world, which change every day. Fake news appears in various venues with distinct characteristics, including “news” articles, Facebook posts, blog posts, podcast discussions, fake videos, and more. Different approaches may be needed for various types of fake news. And alas, there is so much of it, and it spreads so quickly.

Stop to Consider the Following

Having read this far, you may be wondering whether you could use some of the information revealed by computer analyses of language to improve your own interactions with people or media. The computers are crunching enormous amounts of data and weighing thousands of possible cues. That’s more than we humans could ever detect, especially in the middle of a conversation. But could you make meaningful gains in your analysis of others by attending to just a few of the major talking patterns?

Maybe. I think your best bet is to use the information reported here to turn a skeptical eye to possible fake news—compared to real news, the fake stuff is more surprising, interesting, and emotionally engaging, with more pretty pictures and more viral spread. Fake news is hard to detect, but folks who are more analytic—pausing to think about what’s plausible versus what’s illogical—are better at spotting it than those who just go with their gut instinct. Someone who combines this analytical approach with the knowledge that fake news tends to be surprising and emotional may gain an additional edge in fake-news detection.

What we do get from this discussion of computer-aided analyses of talk is a sense of promise and pitfalls for the future. The computer-aided analyses are performing well and are expected to continue improving. They’re going to be applied more broadly. They might struggle with fake news for some time, but perhaps they’ll improve at identifying individuals who spout hate speech and are most likely to act on it.

If talk patterns could help law enforcement predict probable future hate crimes, those predictions could be the basis for important crime prevention attempts, including using the predictions to support legal injunctions against the hate talker, barring them from contact with the group they’re targeting, or using red flag laws that revoke the hate talker’s right to own guns.

Despite these potential benefits coming down the road, you do want to think about your views on having your own talk analyzed. How do you feel about the lack of privacy you’re inviting when you sign up for anything that might be tracking and storing your talk?

A majority of Americans believe that social media companies are not sufficiently protecting their privacy. Most likely, they are concerned about data breaches where private information is collected by unauthorized groups, such as hackers accessing bank account details or passwords. That’s definitely a concern. But we should also recognize that our talk is being analyzed to reveal information about us, and our acceptance of user agreements has likely given companies free rein to do so.

Given the almost daily advances in artificial intelligence and the current rush of products to market, we really don’t know what the upper limit will be on the success of talk analyses. We also don’t know the upper limit on where they’ll be applied or how much they will impact our lives. In the wrong hands, these algorithms could be used to attack free speech or discriminate against those who are legitimately questioning authority.

Collectively and individually, we should keep informed about both the promise of this technology and the safeguards that are needed to prevent abuse.

How Data-Driven Storytelling Helps Good Causes Get Funded

Chances are you’ve benefited from a nonprofit—whether by listening to public radio, adopting a pet from a shelter, attending a community arts event, or witnessing their support through local food pantries. Nonprofits are part of the invisible infrastructure that keeps communities running, meeting needs that businesses might ignore or governments don’t fully address. From youth mentorship to environmental action and crisis response, nonprofits fill vital gaps in our communities.

In a system that prioritizes profitability and scale, nonprofits are expected to address significant social issues while operating on limited budgets. They are tasked with carrying out their mission while also meeting the requirements of the people and institutions they depend on for funding.

To secure support from donors, foundations, or institutions, nonprofits are expected to do more than just describe what they do; they must demonstrate why it matters. It’s like a job interview: A personal story may spark interest, but without a track record of results, the opportunity slips away. The same is true for nonprofits—stories draw people in, but proof of success is what builds trust.

In the wake of the COVID-19 pandemic and the global economic downturn, securing funding has become increasingly challenging for nonprofits. As a result, standing out to potential donors and funders is key to ensuring financial resilience and avoiding insolvency. One way to achieve this is through data-driven storytelling. Stories are a historically effective way of conveying information, and data inspires trust. When skillfully combined, these two approaches can help nonprofits to position themselves as uniquely equipped to meet the needs of their target populations, thereby increasing their chances of securing support from a given funder.

On a most basic level, stories organize information in a way that is compelling and logical. It’s why every organization’s website, nonprofit or otherwise, has a landing page with a distinct and persuasive “About” section. It is also why, even if not explicitly requested, no one expects a rote proposal or grant application that lists an organization’s needs without contextualizing them or demonstrating impact to stand out to funders. While this knowledge is generally universally understood, some apply it more successfully than others.

Take, for example, Craig and Marc Kielburger’s Free The Children, rebranded as WE Charity in 2016. The organization gained unprecedented momentum in its early years, propelled by the inspiring story of its cofounder: 12-year-old Craig Keilburger, who, while searching a newspaper for the comics section, came across an article about 12-year-old Iqbal Masih—a child debt slave who had escaped brutal conditions in a Pakistani carpet factory at age 10 only to be murdered two years later. Deeply affected by the realization that children around the world endured such injustices, Kielburger resolved to carry on Masih’s fight against child labor. He recruited 11 classmates, and together, alongside Craig’s brother Marc, they formed Free the Children out of the Keilburger family home.

In 1995, the group sent a petition with 3,000 signatures—demanding the release of child rights crusader Kailash Satyarthi—to the prime minister of India, packaged in a shoebox. The story quickly attracted headlines, leading Free the Children to be featured everywhere from “60 Minutes” to “The Oprah Winfrey Show,” and garnering worldwide attention and support, including financial backing.

It’s not difficult to see why this story was so resonant. It has all the right ingredients: an undeniable cause, a grassroots origin story, and a magnanimous youngster who saw injustice and felt compelled to correct it. The veracity of each detail aside, it is a narrative that is impossible to refuse. Despite facing serious scandals in recent years, including conflict of interest concerns over a grant awarded by the Trudeau federal government and accusations of white saviourism, WE Charity persists, likely due to the enduring impact of its origin story in the public’s mind.

Ultimately, funders want to support initiatives that reflect their values, or at least the values they want to be seen as holding. In the case of Free The Children, it presented itself as being at the forefront of the fight against child labor from the beginning. It drummed up enough visibility that not supporting them was akin to supporting child labor. This is the type of framing that is important to remember when crafting a narrative about a nonprofit.

For Free The Children, its origin story was a primary driving force behind its success. But we have come a long way since its heyday in the early aughts. Today, there are estimated to be more than 10 million nonprofits worldwide, all of which require some sort of external funding, which is limited. In the data age, demonstrating impact to funders is typically required before receiving any kind of financial backing. Often, the best way to achieve this is through metrics.

Consider an organization seeking funding to expand its nutrition and healthy eating workshops for teens. They could tell a handful of inspiring stories about youth who have participated in these workshops and enjoyed them, but that does not demonstrate that they are fulfilling a need. If, however, they were to introduce or punctuate these stories with the number of youths who noted an improvement in their cooking skills and ability to plan a nutritionally sound meal post-workshop, and demonstrate a high volume of inquiries about expanding the program from parents and interested youth in the community and beyond, they will have painted a picture of a successful, desired program that is filling a void within a population and has the metrics to prove it.

Essentially, data introduces scale, which can back up claims of effectiveness, impact, and need that narrative alone cannot. Its use within the context of nonprofit fund development is a key factor in taking a given initiative from an inspiring story worth a read to a successful operation worth supporting.

All forms of data, both qualitative and quantitative, can be helpful in this context. What matters most is how it complements and affirms the story being told. That said, certain types of data are particularly compelling to funders, notably, data demonstrating positive outcomes (e.g., growth, improvement, efficiency) and demographic data. The former because it communicates program effectiveness, the latter because funders, such as foundations and corporate philanthropic entities, often establish specific demographic niches they are interested in supporting through their funding.

An added benefit to incorporating data into funding proposals is the opportunity it creates for visual storytelling. Data visualizations, such as diagrams, maps, charts, and tables, can make data more engaging and accessible by conveying key information at a glance. While not always feasible—depending on the funder’s required format—visual representations can effectively communicate a range of metrics and statistics that might otherwise be cumbersome or less impactful when presented solely in text.

An infographic from OXFAM, titled “Let’s Talk About Hunger,” is a good example of compelling visual storytelling. It breaks down the language of food crises into five categories, in order of urgency, and uses pie charts and cleverly designed images to convey the level of scarcity experienced at each level. It is both visually appealing and highly informative. In the case of a funding proposal, even a simple set of graphics, appearing within the context of the greater narrative, can help bolster the legitimacy of the request. As this infographic illustrates, this approach can also be particularly effective when communicating urgency to funders.

So, how can this information help organizations secure funding? Here are three steps that can help incorporate data-driven storytelling into funding requests.

  1. Identify the Best Success Stories

These stories should highlight the significant impacts that an organization has made. For example, initiatives that assisted many people within the target demographic, a partnership with another organization that helped expand services, successful fundraising campaigns, and even events that garnered significant press coverage. What’s most important is that the story highlights how an organization is achieving its mission.

  1. Gather and Organize Relevant Data

Having robust data collection methods within an organization is key. Once data collection begins, it can be integrated into success stories as needed, strengthening them and making funding requests more persuasive overall. A baseline amount of data can help demonstrate the progress made over time, the impact of a given initiative, and more. More sophisticated data can be more compelling, but will require a more refined approach to integrating it into the narrative. If the data cannot be used effectively to bolster success stories, it may indicate the need to collect new types of data or employ a different data collection method. There will likely be some trial and error in this process, but the information and compiled data will make the endeavor worthwhile.

  1. Tailor Messaging for Different Funders

This might be the most crucial step. Even the most well-communicated, data-backed stories will not be of interest to a funder who does not fund what a particular organization is offering. Every funder has its own values and funding niches. Any request that does not align with those will be discarded on principle. The best approach is to have a clear understanding of what a potential funder supports and does not support, and to craft a funding request that clearly ties in mutual values. Once an organization establishes itself as a valid potential funding recipient, the data that is integrated into its narratives will help it stand out among the crowd.

Increasingly, nonprofit organizations are utilizing customer relationship management (CRM) software to facilitate documentation, data collection, and management. CRM software is often used to track donor information, but it can also help nonprofits keep tabs on what’s working—and who’s being helped. Although primarily used in the nonprofit sector for donor management, this software can also serve as a practical tool for tracking key metrics, such as participant data, survey responses, and other essential information. When thoughtfully implemented, they can significantly enhance a nonprofit’s data collection efforts. However, their effectiveness depends on the capabilities of the system itself, as well as how staff use the tools and how well they are integrated into the organization’s daily practices.

As a board member of a foundation once told me, every cause is a worthy one. Yet, especially in today’s funding landscape, no one cause speaks for itself. This is where many get stuck. We often overlook the fact that, despite a nonprofit’s obvious importance, many prospective funders are typically learning about a particular cause for the first time. Painting a vivid and inspiring picture of an organization’s achievements through data-driven storytelling instills faith in the legitimacy of a cause to potential supporters. It can be key to securing the financial backing it deserves.

Remember that you don’t have to work for a nonprofit to support one. Look for organizations that demonstrate both heart and results—those that tell real stories and share clear outcomes. Ask how your donation or time as a volunteer would make a difference, and support groups that answer with both passion and proof.

While no single nonprofit can solve every structural or systemic problem, together they serve as community pillars, with networks, knowledge, and resources that communities depend on and that are worth sustaining and expanding. A well-funded and well-managed nonprofit can make a meaningful impact. When many such organizations thrive—particularly grassroots initiatives created by and for the community—that impact grows exponentially. In this context, data-driven storytelling becomes a powerful tool to help a community understand and address its own needs.

How Student Loans Became America’s Financial Catastrophe

With the student debt crisis spiraling out of control, some media outlets have called it a “national emergency.” Outpacing most other borrowings by consumers, Americans who owed federal student loans more than doubled between 2000 and 2020, “from 21 million to 45 million, and the total amount they owed more than quadrupled from $387 billion to $1.8 trillion,” according to a 2024 article in Brookings.

A notable demographic shift has also emerged, with older borrowers now outnumbering younger ones, holding more debt despite having taken out smaller loans many years earlier. According to my analysis of the 2024 second quarter figures from the Department of Education, there are now 2.1 million more people over the age of 35 (23.7 million) with student loans than under the age of 35 (21.6 million), and they owe 160 percent more on average ($43,680 versus $27,250).

Approximately 5.3 million borrowers who had taken federal student loans are “in default,” states an April 2025 PBS article.

Improving access to education is integral to ensuring the economic success of any nation, leading to substantial returns in terms of salaries and gross domestic product. “When more individuals hold high-value credentials, workforce participation increases, financial security becomes attainable for more families, and economic growth accelerates. But these benefits won’t materialize without action. Federal and state governments must prioritize education funding, align learning with workforce needs, and reaffirm education as a public good,” according to an opinion piece in the nonprofit news publication, The 74.

Unlike the U.S., many other countries are prioritizing investing in education to support economic growth. If America doesn’t rectify its policies, which have led to “declining confidence in the value of a degree,” the situation could become irreparable in the future.

The Vicious Cycle That Has Made Education Inaccessible

Student loans were introduced to make education more accessible for students from low-income backgrounds, which would eventually lead to better job opportunities. Far from achieving this goal, the flawed loan system has been monetized by politicians and companies over the years, keeping students in an endless cycle of debt.

“A generation ago, Congress privatized a student loan program intended to give more Americans access to higher education. In its place, lawmakers created another profit center for Wall Street and a system of college finance that has fed the nation’s cycle of inequality. Step by step, Congress has enacted one law after another to make student debt the worst kind of debt for Americans—and the best kind for banks and debt collectors,” states ABC15 Arizona.

The consequences of this financial burden are severe and worsening, leading to tragedy in some instances, like in the case of the Nelson family from Broken Arrow, Oklahoma. They filed for bankruptcy in 2020 as their debt grew, “most of which was unpaid student loans,” according to the New York Post. The family, including six children, was found dead in 2022 in what was termed a “murder-suicide,” owing mainly to their financial circumstances.

The Ballooning Student Loan Debt

The student debt exceeds the state budget in most states (particularly Southern states), based on the first quarter 2025 data I analyzed. The increasing debt has resulted from a significant increase in borrowing and the cost of education over the years. The lending system, by all rational metrics, is a catastrophic failure.

Unfortunately, the political dynamics that have taken hold of both Congress and the White House over the past couple of decades—from both parties—have only solidified against student loan borrowers, perpetuating this broken and dangerous loan program. It is crucial that the public understand the history of how we arrived at this point, the current political and other dynamics at play, and, most importantly, how we can move away from the ledge we, as a nation, now find ourselves on.

How Sallie Mae Monopolized the Lending Industry

The debtor’s revolt in Western Massachusetts, which took place in the 1780s and came to be called “Shays’ Rebellion,” was believed to have compelled the drafting and ratification of the U.S. Constitution, which called for uniform bankruptcy laws ahead of the power to raise an army, coin currency, and declare war in Article I, Section 8.

When President Lyndon Johnson came to power, he signed the Higher Education Act (HEA) into law in 1965. The HEA “created… guaranteed loan programs establishing that loans borrowed by students from private loan companies were now guaranteed by the federal government if students defaulted,” according to the Boston University website. During the signing ceremony, Johnson declared that the loans would be “free of interest,” pointing out that the act would ensure that “the path of knowledge is open to all… [who] have the determination to walk it.”

In 1972, a hybrid, public-private company, Student Loan Marketing Association, which was later called Sallie Mae, was established to serve as a repurchaser and guarantor for federal student loans made by private banks. The company had all the profit-making incentives of a private company, but also had the full backing of the U.S. Treasury, whose money it used for its operations. This created a monopoly over the nascent student loan industry, and the company became the de facto expert and driving force, along with Congress, on legislative matters.

“In the mid-1990s, skyrocketing demand for student loans prompted by escalating college tuitions, expanding eligibility for student loans, and a host of new types of lending combined to make the student loan industry infinitely more complex, larger, and more lucrative. And Sallie Mae emerged as the industry’s biggest player,” stated a 2007 report, “Leading Lady: Sallie Mae and the Origins of Today’s Student Loan Controversy.”

In 1976, bipartisan legislation—pushed by Sallie Mae and other related financial interests in Washington—was enacted by Congress, which made federal student loans non-dischargeable in bankruptcy for five years after the repayment period started, unless borrowers could show “undue hardship.” The reason given for this unprecedented removal of standard bankruptcy rights from student loans was that there was a crisis of graduates flocking to bankruptcy court in droves to expunge their debts.

According to a 2013 policy brief by the nonprofit Reason Foundation, however, “the narrative that students are routinely graduating from college with debt and immediately declaring bankruptcy after graduation was pushed by Sallie Mae and other student lending companies in the hopes that these measures would even further reduce the risk shouldered by lenders when issuing student loans.” The discharge rate of student loans in bankruptcy at that time turned out to be far less than 1 percent—lower than almost all other debts in bankruptcy court.

While a waiting period for bankruptcy discharge surely seemed inconsequential to most in Congress at the time, Sallie Mae was just getting started. In the ensuing years, this unique exception to discharge was extended to include loans made or insured by nonprofit companies. Then, the waiting period was extended to seven years in 1990.

In 1991, Sallie Mae (and the lending industry it essentially controlled) successfully convinced Congress to remove statutes of limitations from federal student loans. And in 1998, Sallie Mae and the student loan industry managed to end any “waiting period” for bankruptcy discharge with the passage of the Higher Education Amendments.

Policy Changes That Helped the Lending Industry Thrive

The number of loans made annually between 1990 and 2000 doubled from 4.5 million to 9.4 million, according to the American Council on Education 2001 brief. “This increase in student borrowing was fueled, in large part, by legislative changes enacted early in the decade.”

To keep up with the increasing demand, Sallie Mae went on an acquisitional drive, purchasing two of the largest student loan guarantors, USA Group and Southwest Student Services, in 2022, and also “went on to purchase the student loan collection companies, so that by 2006 it dominated all aspects of the student loan industry,” according to a 2010 article by World Socialist Web Site (WSWS). These companies generated most, if not all, of their revenue from collecting on defaulted student loans.

Sallie Mae eventually became a completely private company in 2004. “Sallie Mae’s moves to acquire numerous guarantee, origination, and collections companies under a single corporate banner had fundamentally altered the student loan marketplace and made Sallie Mae the undisputed leviathan of the student loan industry,” stated the Reason Foundation brief.

But Sallie Mae and the student loan industry weren’t finished. In 2005, they managed to convince Congress, after spending millions of dollars in lobbying, to end bankruptcy rights from all student loans—including those made by private lenders—as a part of the landmark bankruptcy bill, the Bankruptcy Abuse Prevention and Consumer Protection Act of 2005. At the time, they argued that this would allow the industry to lend to more needy students. But this never happened. Instead, they began demanding cosigners (typically parents or grandparents) for nearly all of their private loans.

These were truly the “happy times” for the student loan industry. Sallie Mae’s stock price shot up. “In 2005, Sallie Mae was named by Fortune as the second most profitable company in the U.S. (Microsoft was 18th that year),” according to WSWS. The company’s CEO at the time, Albert Lord, was the “highest-paid CEO in Washington, D.C., that year.” He built his own private luxury 18-hole golf course.

By 2004, Lord even bragged to shareholders that the company was actually “writing checks” to the Treasury at the end of every year—a reference to the fact that the government was making a profit on defaulted student loans through Sallie Mae’s collection activities.

No lender makes a profit on defaulted student loans in any other lending industry. The fact that the federal government profits from defaulted loans is a defining hallmark of a predatory lending system, resulting from the removal of bankruptcy rights and statutes of limitations. It is even more true today for the Department of Education, as it now owns the loans outright, rather than the old-style lending model where it only guaranteed the loans.

How Politicians Supported the Growth of the Student Loan Industry

The federal student loan servicers (who were largely the lenders and guarantors under the older FFELP program)  can generate more revenue from defaulted loans than from those that remain in good standing through a program called “student loan rehabilitation,” where a defaulted borrower is coerced into making nine payments for 10 months and ultimately signs for a new, much larger loan. The private companies that facilitate these loan rehabilitations receive 16 percent of the value of the new loans, for instance, on a $50,000 defaulted loan that is rehabilitated into a new $100,000 loan, a $16,000 payment is made by the taxpayer to these companies. This, of course, gives the industry a perverted incentive to want loans to default.

Wall Street and Washington had found a way to make profits on a lending instrument: Remove all standard consumer protections, hyperinflate loan balances—including and especially through defaulting loans—and use collection powers that would “make a mobster envious,” as stated by Senator Elizabeth Warren, to extract the money from the borrowers and their families.

This is precisely the sort of lending tyranny that the founding fathers wanted to avoid when they called for uniform bankruptcy rights and equal protection under the law.

Under President Barack Obama, the lending program was nationalized, resulting in the Department of Education making and owning all new loans from July 2010 onward. While private companies like Sallie Mae did not like this change, they remained in the mix by both servicing healthy loans and collecting on defaulted student loans.

Disturbingly, because lending companies could now only make revenue through these two means—where rehabilitating defaults would be far more profitable for them than servicing loans—this only strengthened the perverted incentives these companies already had to frustrate, baffle, and bamboozle borrowers into default.

This change was clearly a boon for the Department of Education, which now stood to earn interest on the loans. Some of the profit was even used as an offset to pay for the Affordable Care Act. The federal government loved this new arrangement, as lending skyrocketed, leading to the accrual of interest.

It also became apparent that the Department of Education had no intention of fairly administering the lending program under Obama’s presidency. The various income-driven repayment (IDR) plans that were in place were run in ways that would lead to the disqualification of the overwhelming majority of borrowers. Between 2013 and 2014, the department found that an astonishing 57 percent of borrowers had “fallen out” of these programs for failing to verify their incomes—just one of many hurdles borrowers must overcome to receive the promised loan cancellation after 20–25 years of making payments.

The Department of Education also fought tooth and nail behind the scenes to keep bankruptcy rights away from student loans on Obama’s watch. They regularly submitted testimony to judges in bankruptcy cases and even micromanaged such cases directly or through contracted attorneys.

Despite the long-standing promise by Democrats to return bankruptcy rights to federal student loans (which they failed to do in 2008), the best we saw from President Obama was an order to “study” the feasibility of returning bankruptcy rights to the loans. There was no meaningful action on this front. During Obama’s two terms in office, nearly $1 trillion was added to the nation’s student debt tab, according to my analysis.

The Worsening of the Crisis

President Donald Trump’s first term in office was—with a couple of notable exceptions—a nightmare. He hired Betsy DeVos—who held stock in student loan collection companies—to be his secretary of education. DeVos ran the department in even worse faith than seen during Obama’s term. She was even threatened with possible prison time by a federal judge for violating “a court order to stop collecting loans from former students of a now-bankrupt for-profit college,” according to the online news publication Government Executive.

There were, however, a couple of surprising bright spots from Trump’s first term. First, he became the first president to cancel student loans broadly, and by executive order. He first did this in August 2019 when he canceled student loans for 25,000 disabled veterans. He did it for a second time for everyone when he first enacted the repayment pause at the onset of the COVID-19 pandemic. This proved that the president can, indeed, cancel federal student loans by executive order. There were no lawsuits or controversies surrounding either of these actions.

Interestingly, it was these actions that compelled my group to start the petition in March 2020 to return bankruptcy rights to all student loans, igniting public conversation about canceling student loans by executive order. The petition quickly grew to hundreds of thousands of signatures and went viral in the mainstream media. Within six months, leading senators, including Elizabeth Warren and Chuck Schumer, began making a similar call.

Joe Biden, who won the election in 2020, meanwhile, promised to both “eliminate” the student debt of people who went to public colleges and Historically Black Colleges and Universities (HBCU), and also committed to restoring standard bankruptcy rights to student loans.

The feeble attempt that Biden made in 2023, however, toward fulfilling these promises was struck down by the Supreme Court. While most point to the obvious reasons—Republican attorneys general and their lawsuits—the key reason was opposition to it from leading Democrats.

Shortly after the 2020 election, Steven and Mary Swig, a billionaire San Francisco “power couple,” circulated a memo within Democratic circles declaring that the president could not cancel student loans by executive order.

Soon after, Democratic leaders like Nancy Pelosi and Susan Rice were parroting this memo, declaring that the president could not cancel the loans administratively. When the Supreme Court handed down its verdict, Chief Justice John Roberts actually quoted Pelosi in the majority opinion.

It seems like Biden himself wasn’t entirely behind this plan. He rejected a “$50,000 student loan forgiveness plan” shortly after the elections, according to ABC News, and the law that he attempted to use to justify the cancellation was “ill-fitting.”

The loans that were canceled during Biden’s term weren’t because of anything that Biden did or didn’t do. Instead, these were loans that were, by and large, supposed to have been canceled through existing rule or law, years or even decades ago. While Democrats often cited them as evidence of their concern for student loan borrowers, the fact remains that these cancellations were relatively small compared to the loan portfolio’s growth over four years.

On returning bankruptcy rights to student loans, the Biden administration did, indeed, stop “opposing” student loan borrowers in bankruptcy court, but the “new bankruptcy process” they put in its place effectively transferred the power to determine the case from the judges to the departments of Education and Justice. The process has proven to be an expensive joke on the borrowers, with only a few borrowers getting discharges. In fact, out of 450,000 student loan borrowers who have filed bankruptcy since the new process was implemented, only around 2,500 people (0.6 percent) have received partial relief.

Meanwhile, Dick Durbin, former chairman of the Senate Judiciary Committee, had a good bipartisan bill called the FRESH START Through Bankruptcy Act of 2021, which he introduced along with Republican Senator John Cornyn. It proposed making “federal student loans eligible for discharge in a bankruptcy proceeding ten years after the first loan payment comes due.” Leading Democrats, like Elizabeth Warren, however, refused to endorse the bill.

In 2025, Trump returned to the presidency, and the Republicans gained control of the White House, the House, and the Senate. He has promised to “eliminate” the Department of Education, and “return student loans to the states” (which is incredibly ambiguous). Trump has already gotten the go-ahead from the Supreme Court to dismantle the department.

In fact, the passage of the One Big, Beautiful Bill in July 2025 makes the situation worse for student borrowers. It reduces “the number of repayment plan options down to two from seven… [also] capping the amount individuals can borrow for higher education,” states CBS News. Critically, the bill eliminates the President’s ability to cancel loans by executive order and allows defaulted borrowers to rehabilitate their loans twice. This provision is tantamount to an economic death sentence for these borrowers, whose loans will default again around 80 percent of the time.

Both parties in Washington have joined hands in keeping this failed loan scam going. At this point, this is not just unwise, but also immoral. We are truly in uncharted territory here. Going forward, we can easily expect half of all student loan borrowers to wind up in default in the next few years. This is precisely what the founding fathers wanted to avoid when they called for uniform bankruptcy rights. The worsening of this situation is going to take a tremendous toll on millions of people.

We can take action to prevent this by compelling Congress and the president to restore the standard, constitutional bankruptcy rights that were removed in the first place. This will end the widespread abuse that we’ve seen, prevent the far greater financial and social harms that the lending industry is poised to inflict on the country (particularly in light of the passage of the “One, Big, Beautiful Bill” law in 2025, and, over time, should lead to more rational pricing and more sensible lending.

What Other Countries Are Doing to Ensure Access to Higher Education

As the U.S. lags in understanding the value of investing in public education, other nations have recognized the importance of an educated workforce to ensure a thriving economy.

In Norway and Sweden, higher education is “tuition-free,” which guarantees equitable access to learning. To prepare students to meet industry demands, Germany offers a dual apprenticeship system, which “integrates classroom learning with paid, on-the-job training, producing well-prepared graduates for industry demands,” according to The 74 opinion piece by Courtney Brown, vice president of impact and planning at Lumina Foundation. Denmark provides students with grants to support them financially.

Switzerland has a vocational education system that allows students to split their time between school and work in fields like health care, information technology, and advanced manufacturing. Singapore’s SkillsFuture program gives adults financial credits they can use to pursue short courses and certificates at any stage of their careers. In Finland, adults can attend publicly funded retraining programs to gain new skills when industries shift or disappear,” adds the May 2025 opinion piece.

The U.S. student loan crisis is not simply the result of rising tuition costs, but of decades of deliberate policy choices that transformed higher education from a public good into a profit engine for lenders, politicians, and corporations. The stripping of bankruptcy protections, the monopolization of the lending system by an unholy alliance of the Department of Education and its private financial partners, and the bipartisan complicity of Congress have entrenched borrowers in a cycle of debt with no escape, leaving millions in financial ruin and undermining confidence in the very value of a degree. Meanwhile, other nations are investing in free or low-cost education, apprenticeships, and lifelong learning as a foundation for economic growth and social equity. Unless the United States confronts this broken system head-on—by restoring basic consumer protections, reducing costs, and reaffirming education as a public good—the crisis will continue to deepen, threatening not only individual livelihoods but the country’s long-term economic stability.

Protect Your Inbox: How to Avoid Email and Text Scams

In today’s world, protecting your personal information feels like an uphill battle. With the rise of sophisticated email and text scams, it’s no wonder that many of us are worried about our private messages—whether they are sensitive emails, medical records, or bank statements—falling into the wrong hands. Although the number of fraud reports in 2024 was little changed from the previous year, more people lost a lot more money to fraud. Among the one in three who reported fraud, the overall loss amounted to $12.5 billion (up $2.5 billion from 2023), according to the Federal Trade Commission (FTC). More than $3 billion of this was lost to scams that started online, particularly on social media. By comparison, approximately $1.9 billion was lost to more “traditional” contact methods, like calls, texts, or emails. However, people lost more money per person (a median of $1,500) when scammers on the phone contacted them,

Of those who reported losing money, 79 percent—who sustained a total of $2 billion in losses—were lured into making bank transfers or direct payments in the false belief that they would profit from an investment. The median loss in these cases exceeded $9,000. Cryptocurrency investments were second among the successful scams (leading to an overall loss of $1.9 billion in 2024). Fake employment offers were another source of loss between 2020 and 2024; reports of such scams nearly tripled, and losses in that period grew from $90 million to $501 million. Victims tended to be younger (those aged between 20 and 29 reported losing money more often than did those over 70), but older adults continued to lose more money to scammers than did any other age group.

But here’s the good news: you don’t have to be a tech expert to guard your privacy. Simple changes to the way you send and receive messages can make a huge difference in protecting your information.

Why Your Messages Are at Risk

Every day, you likely send personal emails or texts containing photos, receipts, or other sensitive documents. You might share your tax files with an accountant or send a prescription record to your doctor. But just like postcards that travel through the mail, digital messages are not always as private as you might think. The reality is that without proper protections in place, these messages and their attachments can be intercepted by people you wouldn’t want to see them.

Take John, for example. He received a text that appeared to be from FedEx, notifying him of a delivery. Intrigued, he clicked on the link in the message. Within hours, unfamiliar expenses appeared on his credit card. The link he clicked had immediately installed spyware on his phone. Scams like this are becoming increasingly common, with 3.4 billion phishing emails sent daily around the world. The danger is real and growing.

Scammers want you to panic and act fast. That’s their game,” State Senator Marty Flynn of Pennsylvania says. “Always take a moment to verify the information. If you are unsure, go directly to a trusted source … or app before taking any action.”

Scammers are increasingly using text messages to scam consumers. Reports to the Federal Trade Commission’s Consumer Sentinel Network provide encouraging news for the scammers: text message scams soared in 2024, resulting in overall losses of some $470 million, more than five times what was reported in 2020. Because the reports probably represent only a fraction of the incidents, the actual losses are likely to have been much greater.

How Scammers Target You

Scammers use a variety of strategies to exploit their victims. One common tactic involves the use of public Wi-Fi networks—like those in coffee shops or airports—to “listen in” on emails being sent over the air. If you’re not careful, they can easily grab your sensitive information.

Then there are phishing attacks. These are emails that look real, sometimes even appearing to be from your bank or Netflix, which can trick you into revealing your password or downloading malicious software. In fact, 94 percent of malware is delivered via email attachments, so opening a seemingly innocent file can be dangerous. Scammers have two basic objectives: either to steal your personal information or to install malware on your device. Phishing is the most common form of cybercrime, with an estimated 3.4 billion spam emails sent daily, and about one-fifth of these originate from Russia. In 2021, one out of every five internet users was victimized by phishing attacks. When a database is breached, hackers often sell it on the dark web, where cybercriminals can purchase and then exploit it, using the leaked addresses for further phishing attacks. The incidence of phishing has only increased since 2021.

Because LinkedIn is used by more than 850 million people across more than 200 countries and regions, it has become a primary target for email phishing attacks: 42 percent, compared with 20 percent for Facebook (Meta) and 9 percent for X (formerly Twitter) in 2021.

Phishing is also the principal delivery method for ransomware. In a typical ransomware attack, a computer or network of computers in an organization is encrypted, preventing the user from accessing data until a ransom has been paid, often in cryptocurrency, to the hacker or hackers responsible. The user is tricked into opening a so-called Trojan (deriving its name from the legendary Trojan Horse, which was used by the ancient Greeks to invade the city of Troy) in the belief that it is a legitimate file, which then triggers the malicious software. Health firms, hospitals, health insurance organizations, and even small cities in the United States have been targeted. The ultimate costs reached a peak in 2023—a record $1.25 billion—only to fall off sharply to $813 million in 2024, according to blockchain intelligence firm Chainalysis. This suggests that the hackers no longer regarded this particular crime as being among the most potentially lucrative.

Individuals are frequently targeted by hackers claiming to have compromising information and photos and threatening to send them to the victims’ friends and families unless they pay up. “It’s just personalized enough to make you stop … no matter how savvy you are, you’re going to say, ‘Wait a minute, is this real? Is this me?’” says Dan Ackerman, editor-in-chief of Micro Center News. In a 2024 interview with CBS News, Ackerman pointed out that scammers typically send out hundreds of thousands of emails. He advises potential victims to watch for three signs in particular: urgent deadline, awkward wording, and generic language.

“It never says what you’ve been doing in your house, on your webcams, on what devices. [There are] no specifics like that, and that’s how you know they’re not real. They’re usually not written very well.” In such cases, he advises people not to reply, not to pay any money, and to report the email.

Another risk is sending information to the wrong recipient. A single typo in an email address can expose your private details to unintended recipients.

Easy Ways to Protect Your Privacy

There are a few simple steps you can take to keep your information secure.

First, password-protect your files before you send them. If you’re sharing sensitive material like bank statements or legal documents, add a password to the file. For Word documents, go to “File > Info > Protect Document > Encrypt with Password.” For PDFs, tools like PDFtk or Adobe Acrobat work well. Even images or folders can be zipped and protected with passwords. Just don’t send the password in the same email; text or call the recipient with it instead.

Next, consider using cloud links instead of attachments. Upload your files to a secure cloud service like Google Drive, Dropbox, iCloud Drive, or OneDrive and share a view-only link. These services even allow you to add password protection and expiration dates.

Nonetheless, scams targeting cloud storage are still prevalent. Scammers sometimes send messages claiming that your cloud storage is full, pressuring you to click a link and “resolve” the issue. Here’s how to spot such scams and stay safe. An email or text that appears to be from Apple, Microsoft, or Google, claiming you’re out of storage, should be treated with skepticism, even if the message looks legitimate. First, ensure you have cloud storage with the company that appears to be emailing you. If you do have such an account, contact them directly. But don’t click the link in the message. Instead, use a number or website you know to be real, or log into your cloud account to see if you really need more cloud space. Otherwise, the message might be a phishing scam that you should report and delete.

Take a cue from Kevin, a college student, who shared his scholarship paperwork with his advisor using OneDrive, a cloud-based service. He could track when the file was opened and even revoke access if needed. It’s a safer, smarter way to share files in the cloud. The same precaution holds in working on a Google Doc. In one Google Docs phishing scam, users were tricked into clicking fake document-sharing links that spread malware. If someone invites you to edit a file in Google Docs, don’t open it—it may be spam from a phishing scheme. As detailed on Reddit, the attacker sends targets an email invitation from someone they may know, takes them to a real Google sign-in screen, and then asks them to “continue to Google Docs.” What the victims don’t know is that by doing this, they’re giving permission to a (malicious) third-party web app that’s simply called “Google Docs,” which gives phishers access to their email and address books.

If you suspect a phishing scam, forward the email to the Anti-Phishing Working Group at [email protected]. Report phishing text messages in the messaging app you use or forward the text message to SPAM (7726). You can also report the phishing attempt to the Federal Trade Commission at ReportFraud.ftc.gov.

Another helpful tip is to switch to privacy-focused email services. If you’re concerned about security, consider providers like ProtonMail, which offers end-to-end encryption; Outlook Encryption; or iCloud Mail, which automatically protects your messages on Apple devices. With services like these, you can even unsend messages or set them to expire after a specific period, giving you more control over your communication. Organizations like Altra Credit Union have avoided data breaches through cloud-based email encryption, which has built customer trust and security.

Before hitting “send,” take a moment to double-check. Ask yourself if you’re sending something sensitive. Are you sure the recipient’s email or phone number is correct? Would you be okay if this information became public? If something feels “off,” trust your instincts and verify the sender’s identity before you act.

And don’t forget the basics: keep your devices updated. Hackers love exploiting outdated software, so make sure to turn on automatic updates for your computer, phone, and apps. Also, use strong, unique passwords for each account, and enable two-factor authentication (2FA) wherever possible to add an extra layer of protection.

“Using only one factor—say, something you know, like a password—to log in to your account is like having one lock on your front door. And not a very secure one,” according to the Federal Trade Commission. “Using two-factor authentication is like using two locks on your door—and is much more secure. Even if a hacker knows your username and password, they can’t log in to your account without the second credential or authentication factor.”

What to Do if You’re Hacked

If the worst happens and your information is compromised, don’t panic, but act quickly. Begin by updating your passwords on critical accounts, such as email and banking, as well as any other services that share the same password. Then, warn your contacts. Let them know that your account was hacked so that they don’t fall for follow-up scams. Finally, monitor your accounts closely. Regularly check your credit card and bank statements for suspicious activity, and consider setting up fraud alerts through services like Credit Karma or Experian.

Real-Life Examples

A few real-world cases will illustrate how these protections work. Take cloud-storage security. Scammers often trick users into clicking on fake links to Google Docs, spreading malware across devices. But with the proper security practices, cloud storage can be a safe way to share files.

In the case of ProtonMail, a software company, which, in contrast to other email services such as Gmail and Microsoft, promises users privacy, asserting that it is free from surveillance. Similarly, companies like Altra Credit Union have been able to protect their clients by using end-to-end encryption, keeping sensitive customer data safe from prying eyes. By integrating these privacy measures, they’ve built trust with their clients and safeguarded their personal information.

Proton has also established a reputation for security with the introduction of Lumo, a privacy-first artificial intelligence (AI) chatbot. In contrast to other AI platforms introduced by companies such as Google, Meta, OpenAI, and Anthropic, Proton’s AI system was trained on publicly available sources, including books, articles, and websites, up to October 2023, which the company maintains minimizes the possibility of hallucinations (false information) and protects privacy, since it doesn’t store logs of conversations on its server, even though it cannot browse the web, use conversations, or update information.

You don’t have to be a tech wizard to protect your privacy; just follow these simple steps, and you’ll be ahead of the game. Remember, if something feels off, don’t click on it. Take a moment to verify the sender’s identity before taking any action. After all, your privacy is worth the few extra minutes it might take to protect it.

Rules vs. Reality: How Competing Views Shape the Way We Use Language

What is language, why do we use it, and how did it evolve? These are questions that language researchers are still working to answer. From a basic standpoint, a language is a shared system of symbols that we use to transmit information between a sender and a receiver. On a social level, we use language to convey ideas, build community, and resolve conflict. We also know that language is a psychological phenomenon; we use language to think and talk to ourselves and to express our identity.

There are many definitions of human language that outline key features distinguishing it from other forms of communication. For one, “human language is distinct from all other known animal forms of communication in being compositional. … [This] gives human language an endless capacity for generating new sentences as speakers combine and recombine sets of words into their subject, verb, and object roles,” stated Mark Pagel, an evolutionary biologist, in BMC Biology in 2017. Human language sets itself apart through its property of limitlessness: It possesses the ability to convey virtually any idea or experience in limitless ways.

This property of limitlessness is similarly apparent through its hallmark of recursion, perhaps one of the most intriguing features of language. In terms of grammar (or more technically, what linguists call syntax in this particular case), recursion allows for the ability to create an infinitely long sentence. Think about how you could keep adding to this sentence without ever starting a new one: “Yesterday around noon, I spoke with an old friend on the phone who knows someone from a neighborhood nearby who told them that… .”

Scientists have differing theories about how long humans have been using language. This type of question is difficult to trace, compounded by the fact that there are different forms of communication, with gestures and non-speech vocalizations dating back further than spoken and signed languages, and written language emerging even later. George Poulos, researcher and professor emeritus at the University of South Africa, states in a 2022 article in the Conversation that the first speech sounds emerged around 70,000 years ago.

Meanwhile, a March 2025 article by MIT News proposes that “our unique language capacity was present at least 135,000 years ago. Subsequently, language might have entered social use 100,000 years ago.” According to Shigeru Miyagawa, linguist, MIT professor, and co-author of the meta-analysis discussed in that article, “the question is not when primates could utter certain sounds; it is when humans had the cognitive ability to develop language as we know it, combining vocabulary and grammar into a system generating an infinite amount of rules-based expression.”

Today, it is estimated that there are more than 7,000 languages in use worldwide. Many of these languages are endangered, at risk of extinction. “More than half of the world’s approximately 7,000 signed and spoken languages are currently endangered. … Regions where all Indigenous [languages] are endangered—including parts of South America and the United States—face the greatest consequences,” states a 2023 article on the Yale News website.

Language is not a static or steadfast system. It changes over time. These changes are shaped by sociocultural, geographic, historical, political, economic, and technological influences, highlighting that language is a social phenomenon. With the rise of a more globally interconnected world and easier access to information, communication, and movement of people, building our understanding of language is now more important than ever.

New insights into how language works can help us enhance language learning methodologies, develop language technologies, and build bridges with other cultures and communities—a big endeavor, to say the least. With applications such as these in mind, a question that often comes up is: Are there correct and incorrect ways to use language?

Descriptivism and Prescriptivism

A common framework in linguistics is the distinction between descriptivism and prescriptivism. Descriptivism is concerned with language in use. It seeks to describe language as it naturally occurs. From a descriptivist approach, there is no right or wrong; there just is. Prescriptivism, on the other hand, makes assertions about language as it “should be.” It sets out how language ought to be used, implying that there are both correct and incorrect choices when it comes to language use. This latter concept may raise some questions.

In 2020, the Académie Française, a moderator of the French language, ruled that the word COVID was feminine. Unlike English, nouns in French follow a binary gender system that classifies them as feminine or masculine. In this case, the organization asserted that because the primary word “disease” (“la maladie”) in “coronavirus disease” (“la maladie du coronavirus”) was feminine, the acronym COVID should follow suit as “la COVID.” As a new word, it appeared that COVID needed to be assigned a gender. Or did it? Apparently, many French speakers had already been referring to it as “le COVID” (using the masculine form).

This type of language moderation is a classic example of prescriptivism, and it surfaces important questions, such as who gets to make decisions about language use? Do people in positions of power and authority have the final say, or does this debate get settled through more organic and less concrete mechanisms?

We also see a prescriptivist approach in dictionaries, although this language resource comprises both prescriptivism and descriptivism. Dictionaries define how words should be used. They include rules of standardization, such as how words should be spelled and pronounced, and whether they should be classified as nouns, verbs, prepositions, etc. At the same time, dictionaries account for the words in use and the meanings they carry among those who use them. Dictionaries are a survey of a language’s lexicon as it currently stands.

In March 2025, the Oxford English Dictionary added entries for the words collab, n.; collab, v.; grawlix, n.; guyliner, n.; judgey/judgy, adj.; lumpia, n.; para-athlete, n.; unfollow, v.; and vape, n., to name just a few. New words come into existence through various means, including contact with other languages and the demands of new environments, behaviors, or social practices. Words can be shortened, merged, or moved into new word categories (for example, combining two separate words or adding a prefix or suffix to an existing word root).

Given these considerations, dictionaries are largely the result and responsibility of their authors. Lexicographers must be diligent about following and analyzing emergent word usage patterns to maintain dictionaries that accurately reflect (i.e., describe) the current state of a language’s lexicon—in other words, how people use it.

On the other end of the spectrum are much clearer examples of descriptivism. One of the clearest ways to learn about this approach is to examine the tools that researchers use to study language.

Ethnographic studies of language offer firsthand insight into the people and culture that use said language in everyday life. They only describe, as their goal is understanding the complex interplay between language and its social motivations.

The domain of corpus linguistics seeks to understand language use through quantitative methodologies. In linguistics, a corpus is a dataset of spoken or written language. Many are quite large, and most cater to language professionals, with built-in capabilities for advanced search functions and statistical analyses. COCA, the Corpus of Contemporary American English, for instance, is a collection of more than 1 billion words from spoken and written samples of text from 1990 to 2019. Other corpora, such as Google Books Ngram Viewer, are much more accessible. This tool offers a quick and user-friendly way for anyone to look at word usage trends over time (from a multi-language corpus of books that totals approximately 500 billion words), dating back to the 1500s.

While corpora provide valuable insights, it is important to remember that these tools are still limited, even though many contain millions, if not billions, of words. It is more helpful to think of them as snapshots that are relatively narrow within the vastness of all that a language includes. Any given corpus is a collection of text that is specific to a certain stretch of time, the genre(s) and environment(s) in which its text was produced, and the people who generated the language samples. The key here is not to overgeneralize from how language is used in a specific context.

Beyond Right and Wrong: Rethinking How We Judge Language

Many people might think that prescriptivism has no usefulness since descriptivism is a more neutral approach, free from bias and control, an attitude that allows language to exist naturally without any judgment or constraints. Others might say that there are times when language choice should be corrected. I believe that there are, in fact, some useful contexts for the latter.

Second language learning, for example, is a situation where building a solid foundation and adhering to rules is essential for understanding and effective communication. For instance, it would benefit an English language learner to know the difference between “let’s meet there at six” and “let’s meet there in six”—not just because the prepositions “at” and “in” have different meanings, but also because “at six” implies at six o’clock and “in six” implies in six minutes, which could lead to mix-up about the time to meet up. (Granted, this is much easier to catch in writing if the person distinguishes between a numeral and a written-out number, but if they do not, or if the message is spoken, then this extra clue is absent.)

As another example, if a student is writing an email to their professor to ask for a deadline extension, using a formal introduction is more effective than using an informal one. Learning a language is not just about building vocabulary or knowing how to conjugate the correct verb form; it is also about understanding how someone would speak in different situations with different people that call for varied levels of formality or informality.

Similar to how it can be useful to prescribe rules of formality to a language learner, we could also make a case for taking a prescriptivist approach toward language use in formal writing, although this can be a slippery slope. Genres such as textbooks, research reports, newspaper articles, and official letters use more formal language and mostly follow the prescriptive instructions of language style guides.

While it may seem overly authoritative to have usage rules for things like capitalization or punctuation, this kind of standardization can contribute to the readability of written information. When information is presented in a more uniform, organized manner, it is easier to digest. For areas such as academic and scientific writing, rules around language use ensure that information is objective, specific, succinct, and hedged when necessary. Despite these benefits, scholars urge that pushing for language standardization, even in written language, perpetuates gatekeeping and discriminatory attitudes about language and “can unfairly limit people’s access to opportunities, including in educational and professional realms,” according to a 2023 article published in the journal Daedalus.

Another way to consider our language choices is to reframe the question around appropriateness and respect. When was the last time you encountered an example of politically correct language? This type of prescriptivism, also known as inclusive language, aims to respect the way we refer to people, often in terms of identifiers such as gender, race, religion, or sexual orientation. While some may argue that extreme forms of politically correct language verge on being controlling or euphemistic, its core intent is rooted in showing respect—both to one’s audience and to the communities being addressed.

Within this context lies the purpose of many language movements: to create meaningful connections through education about and acknowledgement of identity. Examples of this are the gender-focused movements, such as preferred personal pronouns and gender-neutral terms like flight attendant over stewardess. We also see this in person-centric constructions like a person with a disability instead of a disabled person. In written language, guidelines for capitalization can also serve as powerful acknowledgements of identity, such as Aboriginal, Black, Indigenous, and Latine.

In short, prescriptivist approaches to language use are not always dogmatic. In these examples of second-language learning, formal writing, and politically correct language usage, prescriptivism should still be approached with caution, but it can serve as a beneficial communicative tool. Of course, there are far more circumstances where a descriptivist approach is the better (and more ethical) option. These situations where it would not be helpful to correct someone’s language choices are, arguably, vastly more numerous. For instance, pointing out a text message typo with “your” versus “you’re” in a sentence such as “your late.”

What this boils down to is that consideration of the people, context, and long-term implications matters. Both prescriptivism and descriptivism can be useful, but appropriateness depends on a multitude of factors. So if you find yourself taking a decidedly prescriptivist attitude toward someone’s language choice, stop and ask yourself if you understood the sender’s intended message, despite any standardized rules that language authorities have declared or opinions you have about how the message “should” have been conveyed.

A clear understanding of the speaker’s intended message is a major component of successful communication. If it still bothers you, consider the context in which the message was produced, along with any beliefs you might have about a person or community in connection with how their language use differs from yours. These kinds of questions can help shape a better-informed opinion about language choice.

So, is there a better approach? Depending on your answers to the considerations discussed here, some level of prescriptivism may be appropriate and meaningful, but it is also important to remember that descriptivism honors the diversity of language—and, by extension, people.

Why Food and Nutrition Deserves Its Own Public School Curriculum

Overconsumption and consumerism have thrown up new social, environmental, and economic challenges. There is an urgent need to course-correct by changing how we use our limited resources. One important step would be to teach children the importance of mindful living by grounding their education in the fundamentals of human ecology.

A national human ecology curriculum that focuses on food education could play a crucial role in addressing pressing issues, from climate change to inequality, by teaching students how to care for themselves and others while being aware of how their actions impact the planet and nonhuman species.

“The problems that today’s college-going generation will face in the future are enormous… Climate change, fossil-fuel constraints, rotting infrastructure, collapsing ecosystems, and resource scarcities all loom large. Meeting those challenges will require both abstract and practical knowledge,” stated the Chronicle of Higher Education 2012 article.

Food education is critical to navigate this changing landscape. “It’s time to situate the food crisis within childhood education, not only to help young people better understand where their food comes from, but to build the leaders the 21st century’s food system will so desperately need,” stated the charity Sustainable Food Trust.

How Sharing Meals Builds Trust, Connection, and Well-Being

The act of sharing a meal brings happiness and is crucial in fostering a sense of community and trust, which is essential for overcoming the challenges human beings face today. According to a 2017 study by the University of Oxford, communal meals foster a sense of connection and well-being and help people feel more rooted in a community setting.

The 2025 World Happiness Report highlights that the act of sharing a meal is one of the strongest predictors of “well-being.” “The report finds that people in countries with high rates of meal sharing also declare stronger social support and lower levels of loneliness, suggesting that the decline in communal meals in more industrialized societies is more than a lifestyle shift; it’s a public health concern,” stated a 2025 article in National Geographic.

Social meals activate the brain’s endorphin pathways, which are associated with oxytocin and dopamine—neurochemicals that foster bonding, pleasure, and trust, according to a 2017 study published in the journal Adaptive Human Behavior and Physiology. This biological response makes communal eating a particularly effective way to gain trust and confidence, which can take place at home and school.

Further, a 2017 study in the Journal of Consumer Psychology revealed that sharing the same food—not just eating together—enhances trust and cooperation. Sharing the same meal means people are more likely to cooperate with and trust each other, even in business or negotiation contexts. This is especially pronounced when people lack prior relationships in our transitory world, making food a unique tool for building basic trust across political and cultural divisions. This effect is more substantial than with other forms of similarity, such as wearing clothes of the same color. In essence, communal eating leverages cultural rituals, psychological comfort, and physical health to create a trusting environment, even among strangers.

Reclaiming Community and Well-Being in a Culture of Isolation

Over the years, the United States has evolved from a country that fought to defend human life and welfare to one where capitalism has become the guiding principle shaping every aspect of life.

This has resulted in a loss of things that matter: family, how to eat and live to ensure a healthy life, and the importance of building community.

“One in four Americans now eats every meal alone, a 53 percent increase since 2003,” stated the National Geographic, pointing out how dire the situation has become “[i]n more recent decades, the digital revolution—coupled with the COVID-19 pandemic—has accelerated this fragmentation, with meals increasingly relegated to a fleeting necessity between Zoom calls, desk work, and social media.”

There is an urgent need to teach children to sustain life as part of their educational curriculum, if we want to reform how we live and create a future based on nurturing young minds and bodies so they have the tools to make better choices.

To take corrective steps, we need to change the current reactive practice of waiting for social problems to develop and then rushing to the rescue. A 21st-century transformation begins with the adoption of a human ecology program in every public school and reorienting human values and care in this highly capitalist society. The transformation needed to counteract the current culture will take the length of mandatory education, beginning with the study of food.

Learning about food is more than just nutrition or sustenance—it’s about how personal food sovereignty helps reweave the social fabric, and how “nested” skills (advanced skills that build upon foundational ones) play a role in strengthening human capital. By prioritizing food education and food-centered community initiatives, we can mend social trust, strengthen community bonds, and lay the groundwork for a more connected and resilient future.

Food Education as a Path to Empowerment and Equity

Teaching about food empowers students with practical skills that life demands, such as knowing how to cook and maintaining a safe and healthy lifestyle. This became a live lesson for me when I chaired the Consumer Arts and Science Department at City College of San Francisco and saw our community college students bloom in the food classes. They began to realize that they would be alright, no matter what, and that they could take care of themselves and help others. Their confidence and control over food security freed them to think further ahead and plan their lives.

In fact, one of my former students, a combat veteran who joined our program, loved the life that learning to cook gave him so much that he eventually opened up a restaurant in Napa Valley.

By addressing food insecurity through education and promoting food literacy, communities can challenge systemic inequalities and create a more resilient and inclusive society. That is precisely what happens in a school food lab in real time, where small groups of students are taught to make a dish to be shared with everyone else. Food education fosters a deeper understanding of finite community and national resources, climate change, economics, and even politics, in a meaningful human way.

Speaking on Oregon State University’s “The Farm to School Podcast,” in November 2024, Emelia Miguel of Food Lab, from Pacific Elementary in Davenport, California, said, “[T]hese kids really learn such incredible skills, like those soft skills, like leadership and teamwork. And empowerment in the kitchen. And obviously, they learn their kitchen skills. But I think that it really is a well-rounded education that we give them and… they’re working on their math skills, their English language, [and] arts skills. It all comes together in that kitchen in such a real way. And I really think it’s so valuable that more schools really need to do this.”

Students are also challenged at an ethical and moral level as they consider who has enough food and who does not, and the reasons for this on the local and global scale. Food education, within a human ecology program, frames a human-centered mindset for decision-making throughout life.

Although food is foundational to all societies, few U.S. schools offer a food class in a dedicated food lab. As students transition to college, many lack food knowledge and practical skills, as they may have been accustomed to being served at home or in restaurants.

The U.S. Government Accountability Office found that in 2020, 3.8 million college students faced food insecurity. Based on the 2024 GAO report, the Food Research and Action Center said that “Food insecurity is more prevalent among students with the following characteristics: had a disability, were 24 years old or older, single parent, or were financially independent from their parents.” This not only affects the academic performance of college students but also their overall physical and mental health.

Building a Continuous Food Education Curriculum From Kindergarten Through College

Public schools need to integrate a formal human ecology educational program into the K-12 curriculum, alongside the other equally core education subjects. Ideally, they should extend the age range to community colleges, where delayed maturity is making independent living and food security a significant challenge.

Food education is not a one-time starter lesson focused on learning to cook, but a continuous thread that spans from elementary grades to graduation and college. Teaching an age-appropriate foods course involves both lecture and lab components. It follows Bloom’s Taxonomy, the standard educational program planning sequence:

  • Basic knowledge and resources (what is food?)
  • Application (how do we prepare it?)
  • Serving (what are the cultural differences, protocols, and etiquette?)
  • Analysis (what are its nutritional components?)
  • Needs of human life phases (how does age dictate choice and preparation?)
  • Evaluation (how do we choose and purchase healthy options?)
  • Creation (how do we resource and innovate in national food systems?)

Each level progresses in complexity as students mature and their world broadens. Every school district’s program can be designed to reflect the local culture (rural or urban), climate, community size, and available resources. The universal adoption of human ecology, meanwhile, will ensure that human life values become commonly held; the lessons inform future voters about human needs and sharing, and by doing so, they create a national cohesion that celebrates and protects life.

Preparing Students for Food Challenges in a Changing Climate

Beyond having a meal together in class, the big picture is not looking rosy, and students need to be prepared for future realities. Global threats are likely to reduce dependency on imports and inflation, necessitating new strategies to grow more food locally and independently. This will also require developing new traditions when popular foods become scarce due to climate change, rising costs, or vanishing supply lines.

With the climate crisis worsening, global warming will have devastating effects on crop yields and quality while also leading to the drying up of water supplies and degradation of supporting ecosystems.

Massive “heat domes,” such as the one we experienced in the U.S. in the summer of 2025, will continue to put more pressure on food prices and choices. Food education could encourage more young scientists to work on this problem.

Local schools can play their part by working toward preventing future food insecurity and increasing quality of life, by teaching their students how to prepare their food, imparting the knowledge of human nutritional needs throughout the different phases of life, along with an understanding of preserving and storing food to ensure local families will have enough each season and during emergencies.

Why Universal Human Ecology Is Integral to the Education of Children

While this deep dive into the importance of teaching food to prevent social decline focuses on food itself, there are other critical basic components of a comprehensive human ecology program, like reducing homelessness. Educational leaders and policymakers must recognize that the study of food is not a niche subject; it is a vital academic area of study, a complete human ecology program for our time, encompassing all aspects of life.

Beyond the lessons on physical survival, students also need to learn the “soft” side of human ecology, which includes the psycho-social aspects of “fitting in,” becoming socialized, etiquette, professionalism, and discovering their path or passion. Through human ecology, students begin to realize that communal interest is, in reality, self-interest: a win-win.

The need for a mandatory, universal human ecology program is undeniable. The need to educate future decision-makers about the fundamental basics of human life is critical. Human ecology should be at the heart of our educational vision and the core of every child’s education. “As the twig is bent, so grows the tree.”

Additional Resources

Necropolitics and the Language of Death: How Military Talk Turns Recruits Into Killers

Editor’s Note: This article, by nature of the topic, may include language that is considered sensitive and/or vulgar to some readers.

Night after night, the buses pull up on the tarmac outside the Parris Island Marine Corps recruit training center in South Carolina. Usually, they are full of young men—still boys, by some measures—with a nervous feeling in the pit of their stomachs. They will have sensed the air getting heavy and sticky, and they might have noticed a swampy stench. They’ve seen enough movies to know what comes next, but they still find it startling.

A drill instructor storms the bus, shirt tight around his muscles, belt seeming to float around his flat abdomen, roaring at the neophytes from under his circular hat brim.

“SIT UP STRAIGHT! From this point forward, you will only answer me with a YES, sir, NO, sir, AYE-AYE, sir. DO WE UNDERSTAND?”

“YES, SIR!” yell the recruits.

“Now get OFF MY BUS! NOW, NOW, NOW!”

The young men hustle to plant themselves on a row of yellow footprints painted on the road. The yelling follows them, an acoustic assault so thick and fast and strangely inflected that each recruit has to listen hard and use herd behavior to know what to do next.

They know they’re about to be transformed, but they are unlikely to recognize all the subterranean dynamics of this change and how the acoustic qualities of boot camp will reshape them into hardened killers. These qualities will also model the disintegration of their personhood and their necropolitical abjection—that is, their killability in the eyes of the state.

Military Language

In the face of war’s brutality, language might seem like an incidental detail. But United States combat veterans who pay attention to it will attest that embodied ways of speaking—from yelling to cursing to joking, and beyond—can be intimately bound with experiences of kinetic violence.

By attenuating thought and agency, yelling can alter recruits’ sense of self. Drill instructors in the Marine Corps also tinker with recruits’ idea of selves by announcing shortly after their arrival that “the words ‘I,’ ‘me,’ ‘my’ are no longer part of recruits’ vocabulary. Instead, they are to refer to themselves as ‘recruit [last name]”. Drill instructors agree this lexical system is designed to foreclose egocentrism and stop recruits from thinking of themselves as individuals.

In 2016, Sergeant Jennifer Duke explained to PBS NewsHour, “We need to break down these individualities that they come with, of self and ‘me’ and ‘I.’ We need to break them down to basically nothing so we can build them back up… as one team, one element, to join our Marine Corps. It’s not my Marine Corps, or his Marine Corps, it’s our Marine Corps.”

In Marxist theorist Louis Althusser’s terms, we could say that recruits must “self-interpellate” as cogs in the military machine. Drill instructors never use recruits’ personal names; instead, official regulations permit them to call recruits “recruit [last name]” or to address them by their billet or job, such as “scribe” or “guide.” This practice carries a whiff of military necropolitics, whereby each individual serves a role in the military machine and is easily replaced if they become ineffective or are killed.

To facilitate state necropolitics, U.S. military culture is saturated by “kill talk” among those who serve as instruments of combat. The defining feature of kill talk is its refusal to acknowledge the full relational humanity of and the terrible loss suffered by those on whom potentially deadly violence is inflicted.

I think of kill talk as a kind of linguistic infrastructure—a loose collection of disparate verbal strategies that guide soldiers in how to perceive, feel, think, and ultimately act in combat. This infrastructure underpins the experience of having what the philosopher Judith Butler calls a “frame of war,” which, in simplest terms, is a structure that selectively carves up experience, fostering indifference to certain deaths.

These patterns of language matter partly because they make war more doable. Military combat asks too much of a human being. People’s minds are not well equipped to assimilate the full implications or the moral depth of killing or being killed; such a reckoning could debilitate one’s ability to live, let alone function on behalf of the military machine.

As psychiatrist Robert Jay Lifton puts it, “There has to be some level of detachment”—some “psychic numbing”—to apply one’s technical skills in war. Military language offers a supreme instrument to facilitate this detachment. Such detachment can potentially enhance military force—the volume of fire in a firefight, the relentless pressure applied during a siege, and so forth—while offering a kind of rescue for the combatant. But there is a terrible cost to this facilitation: If kill talk makes violence more feasible for combatants, it spells more death, mayhem, and misery for the individuals and societies targeted by such violence, and sometimes for the combatants themselves.

While kill talk may feel to combatants like a necessary kind of detachment, it can be jarring—even incomprehensible—to civilians. Just consider, for instance, the public disturbance in 2023 when Prince Harry described his mindset in his memoir as he killed 25 Taliban. He served as a forward air controller and then an Apache helicopter pilot in Afghanistan during his two tours. “You can’t really harm people if you think of them as people,” he stated in his book Spare. “They were chess pieces removed from the board, Bads taken away before they could kill Goods.”

The international shockwaves from this statement suggested many were stunned to hear his account, which seemed to contravene not only popular fantasies of the genteel royals but also the very liberal humanism Harry and his U.S. allies were supposedly fighting for. But from Harry’s point of view, this conceptual framing apparently made the difference between being able to do his job and not.A young Iraq veteran I call Levi offers further insight into how wording can play a crucial role in a soldier’s ability to perform otherwise unthinkable acts as he recalls his experience during deployment:

“This wasnʼt an ‘enhanced interrogation’; this was a fucking torture. Right? Or—like—I didnʼt just ‘see my buddy take out an insurgent’; I saw him execute a man, right? When we sanitize that language, it fucks with our heads, because we have this deep-down, inherent aversion to killing—our own kind, especially, right? And so when you can indoctrinate somebody to override that barrier that we have, part of how we get them to do it is dehumanizing and by sanitizing, right? You switch that language and all the rhetoric around, becoming something other than what it actually is. So then we use those other words—those euphemisms—for those things, and detach ourselves from it.”

How do combatants learn to assimilate violence into their inner lives so they can willingly anticipate the act of killing and swallow the possibility of dying? As I listened to American veterans describe their military training, and observed glimpses of Marine Corps boot camp, it seemed that necropolitical abjection and the willingness to kill were conditioned not just physically, but semiotically—that is, by way of meaningful signs, in language, and other symbolic forms—before anyone went into battle. In both obvious and subtle ways, language helps combatants imagine themselves as killable killers and manage the moral, emotional, and conceptual implications of this role.

Hannah Arendt once wrote that violence is “mute”; it “begins where speech ends,” after the rational capacity for dialogue fails. Nevertheless, war’s violence is always mediated by language.

The concept of a “linguistic infrastructure” in kill talk directs attention more precisely to language and to combatants themselves. Imagine this infrastructure as an invisible patterning force that begins with the (re)socialization of those entering the military and continues to evolve in military speech communities during combat. Working in tandem with the political ideologies, military directives, and psychological mechanisms that facilitate inhumane deeds, this linguistic infrastructure offers new modes of consciousness and shared ways of being in the world. It directs and shunts, but rather than steering water, electricity, or vehicles as a city infrastructure does, its contours and dead ends encourage certain flows and stoppages of perceiving, feeling, thinking, and acting.

Kill talk aspires to block empathy for “the enemy” and to dull the combatant’s sense of self-pity; it channels and champions the performance of aggressive military masculinity; it embraces the moral void of war so that combatants might not be grief-stricken and incapacitated by it. This infrastructure helps create conditions of possibility for the deadlier aspects of military experience while shifting combatants’ sense of what is thinkable and doable.

By the end of basic training, Randall, an American veteran of Vietnam and Parris Island Marine Corps boot camp trainee, says, “You get programmed. It’s like housebreaking a dog.” He came to accept that he was “a GI, ‘government issue.’ You belong to the USA.”

The bodily entrainment of Marines and other U.S. soldiers is plain to see, from their skills with weaponry to their taut control over their movements. However, the necropolitical role of language in combatants’ experience has scarcely been explored by linguistic anthropology or related disciplines. Randall, for one, understood the point of all the drills, fitness exercises, and weapons training, but he also sensed that something hard to articulate was happening to him during all that yelling, verbal abuse, and mind-game-playing he experienced during Marine Corps training. The way language was being used seemed to offer a connection to the disposability of bodies and erasure of souls. But how, exactly?

Kill Chants

Marine Corps training uses an especially transparent linguistic method to shunt empathy away from the suffering of those targeted in war: frequent repetition of the word “kill.” The first time I heard about this, I was speaking to Jay at a veterans’ writing workshop. A gifted artist and writer, Jay regrets having joined the Corps and now wears creative outfits like colorful bandannas and leggings with pink on the left side and blue on the right. He tells me that in hindsight, he considers boot camp morally appalling. “You can’t believe the things they try to put into you. Like, we greeted each other by yelling ‘Kill!’ You’d just pass someone on the path and you’d both yell, ‘Kill!’ and it was, like, just another Tuesday.”

As if normalizing the concept by merging it with their identity, Marine Corps officers and recruits sometimes use the word “kill” in banal contexts, as in the ritualized greeting described by Jay above. In “The Oaths We Keep”, an account by Jason Arment, who served as a U.S. Marine Corps machine gunner in the Iraq War, recruits were sometimes required to yell “kill” as an affirmative response (e.g., if they wanted to eat at the chow hall). “KILL,” he adds, “was the word companies of Marines shouted at their command when they knew they were supposed to say something but didn’t know what.”

Marine Corps veteran Patrick Turley describes his drill instructor directing a squad to “attack the Chow Hall,” meaning go to the dining hall to get a meal. As they entered, they were enjoined to sit down and “Kill 37,” another platoon in their company. They wound up chanting, “Kill, kill, kill ’em all!” as they marched past the other platoon to eat. During a military history lesson, Turley’s staff sergeant would ask a question, and when a recruit stood to answer, his platoon-mates would shout “Kill!” to motivate him. If the recruit got the answer right, the congratulations would take the form of (you guessed it) “Kill!”

And in her 2015 dissertation, Rachel Lynn Bowman reported that a non-commissioned officer at Parris Island “used ‘kill’ as a throwaway affirmative in a conversation with my escort lieutenant… [T]he term meant ‘great’ or ‘got it.’” At one point in the documentary Ears, Open. Eyeballs, Click, recruits clean the floor while chanting, “sweep, kill, sweep, kill.” Here, “kill” is nested into a rote chore, perhaps both being all in a day’s work. When a term is used so casually and associated with so many purposes, it blends into the landscape of cultural expectations.

As kill talk extends into combat, it takes a range of forms. Infantry on ground missions often use bloodless, impersonal jargon when communicating with superiors or when adopting a professional stance. Phrases like “engaging a target,” “neutralizing a threat,” and “conducting a clearing operation,” for instance, can refer to violence while bypassing the fleshy reality of human bodies and their suffering. At the same time, however, a transgressive linguistic register flourishes in the theater of combat. It includes taboo slurs and epithets for the enemy and extravagant profanity that signals the speaker’s military masculinity while symbolizing, in microcosm, the shocking bodily ruptures of kinetic violence.

Dehumanization: Slurs, Epithets, and Profanity

Although military culture prides itself on being distinct from civilian culture, it still has to respond to some winds of change in the wider world. To be sure, gender-based insults and other demeaning terms have remained a core structure of the formative language used in the military. At the same time, while racism and ethnic discrimination remain forces in the military just as they are in the wider society, the Department of Defense has—until Trump’s re-election, anyway—made sustained efforts to crack down on racism in training. All members of the military are supposed to be hard (and hence masculine), but the military needs bodies of all ethnic and racial extractions. Military branches have also seen the growth of Defense Equal Opportunity Institute-designed trainings around racial and ethnic sensitivity and diversity. Contemporary drill instructors know that racist and ethnic insults pose a particularly high risk to both morale and their own careers.

At the same time, service members have experienced a long-standing tension between ideologies of racial inclusiveness and actual verbal practice. In the Marine Corps, the official line since the Vietnam era has been that the Corps “does not see race,” instead perceiving all Marines as “green” by virtue of their uniforms. John Musgrave, who enlisted in 1966, reported all kinds of demeaning feminization, infantilization, and other put-downs in boot camp. But his drill instructor liked to say there should be no “racial crap” in the Marine Corps, for there are “only two colors [:]… forest green, the color of your uniforms, and red, the color of your blood.”

Yet historically, there have been many reports of service members of color being treated as materially and symbolically “less than,” and many who served in Vietnam reported blatant discrimination that reflected the broader culture of racism. One Vietnam veteran I spoke to says, “It was a racist system, and many of the trainers were white guys from down South… They would use all those ugly words you would expect on us.”

The insults drill instructors direct at recruits set the stage for the dehumanizing language combatants use in referring to the enemy. When trainers use “ugly words” to debase the recruits they wish to control, they model what it looks like to erase the personhood of the other—and this becomes immediately relevant in combat.

Just as drill instructors are formally prohibited from using racist language, they are also not permitted to use profanity during training. Nevertheless, some persist in doing so. The tension is evident in the 2005 documentary Ears, Open. Eyeballs, Click, filmed at the San Diego Training Depot. In one segment, the camera follows a platoon on a training hike. It’s hot, it’s dusty, everyone is heavily laden, and the recruits are clearly on their last legs. Several drill instructors can be heard trying to motivate them. The profanity rains down—“fuck,” “puss,” “damn,” “shit.” There’s no one reason profanity like this is common; there are countless reasons for drill instructors to use it. Drill instructors might use profanity because they instinctively grab the most emphatic words at their disposal to transmit their urgent affect to recruits. Profane language also mirrors the harsh realities they want Marines to get used to. The use of profane insults might count as an example of what I call “semiotic callousing,” the dynamic in which harsh signs (in this case, profanity) supposedly inure people (in this case, future soldiers) to onslaughts of whatever kind. Bombarded with harsh language, recruits should learn to inure themselves to feeling hurt, responding with action rather than nursing their wounds.

Furthermore, since dirty words refer to shared and sometimes taboo experiences of the body—sex, genitalia, and excretion—they belong perfectly in the military, where privacy is hard to come by and bodies are often filthy or desecrated. Unadorned and profane language also tends to be associated with those with less class privilege, in contrast with the refined or respectable language people use to self-elevate. Finally, at the semantic level, profanity often fixates on things entering or leaving the body—a crude analog of violence itself.

The forms of kill talk described—slurs and profanity, kill chants, euphemisms, and more—help create a social and psychological context in which taking lives in war becomes easier. But they also carry a cost. Those who find themselves broken by remorse after service are sometimes not merely guilty about what they (and the entire military apparatus) did to others, but also how they labeled and conceptualized those others. Wartime epithets, for instance, seem to have collateral damage—civilian lives, yes, but also, more subtly, some of the service members who did this cruel labeling. When they look back in hindsight, some are appalled by their deeds and their own past mindset. Recovery thus requires new language, new stances, what social theorist Alfred Schutz called a “Thou-orientation” that grasps the human existence of the people once so vilified.

Language plays an essential role in transforming a person into a combatant, helping subsume their purpose in the broader framework of military necropolitics. Part of the military contract—especially for those destined for close combat—involves a process of resocialization that sidelines individuality, desensitizes the self, and alienates the person from thoughts and feelings that once felt authentic. To militarize the self is, in part, to become callous to the feelings of certain others.

Gratitude Journaling: A Guide for Caregivers

Informal, unpaid caregivers play a vital role in society by attending to those who require care due to age, illness, disability, or psychiatric disorder. According to AARP and the National Alliance for Caregiving, 63 million caregivers in the United States provided care for another adult or child with special needs in 2025—a dramatic 45 percent increase from 2015. Among the 59 million caregivers of adults, 24 percent devoted a staggering 40-plus hours a week to caregiving. In addition to looking after a loved one, many caregivers also face the pressures of working and raising children. Moreover, most caregivers lack relevant medical skills training, which can make their roles even more taxing. As a result, caregivers experience chronic stress, exhaustion, anger, depression, anxiety, and guilt. This can deteriorate their physical and mental health, their relationships with others, and their overall quality of life.

One way caregivers can reduce this burden is by cultivating gratitude, as research in the field of positive psychology shows that gratitude can have a powerful impact on people’s overall well-being. Robert Emmons, professor at the University of California, Davis, and the world’s leading scientific expert on gratitude, contends that gratitude consists of a two-part cognitive process. First, it is a recognition that there are positive things and blessings in our lives. Second, it is an acknowledgment that these blessings come from sources outside ourselves. These sources may include the people in our lives or even a higher power.

One popular means of expressing thanks is through gratitude journaling, which is the practice of writing about things one is grateful for. This type of journaling can be a convenient way for caregivers to cultivate gratitude, as it can be private, flexible, and cost-effective, while also offering numerous health benefits.

Gratitude Journaling

Studies show that gratitude journaling can serve as an outlet for individuals to enhance mindfulness, gain insight, boost mood, and increase overall happiness. This is because it fosters an appreciation for the positive things, people, and experiences in our lives. It shifts our focus from what we lack to all the blessings that surround us.

In his book, Gratitude Works!: A 21-Day Program for Creating Emotional Prosperity, Emmons contends that writing about our blessings instead of simply thinking about them enables us to acknowledge them more and strengthens their psychological impact:

“Writing helps to organize thoughts, facilitate integration, and helps you accept your own experiences and put them in context. In essence, it allows you to see the meaning of events going on around you and create meaning in your life. Gratitude journaling may help you bring a new and redemptive frame of reference to a difficult life situation.”

But writing about our blessings offers other advantages, too. Many of the studies that have explored the positive effects of gratitude journaling revealed that those who practiced it consistently experienced physical health benefits, as they:

The studies also revealed that individuals who kept gratitude journals experienced psychological benefits, as they:

Lastly, the research showed that gratitude journaling had social benefits, as those who practiced it:

How Caregivers Benefit from Gratitude

Some researchers have specifically focused on the impact of gratitude on caregivers. One such study, conducted in 2015 in China, explored the relationship between gratitude and coping mechanisms among caregivers of individuals with dementia. The researchers found that caregivers who experienced gratitude were more likely to use higher levels of psychological resources, including their own caregiving competence and social support networks, when facing challenges. These caregivers were also more likely to use emotion-focused coping strategies, including acceptance, humor, and positive reframing. Using psychological resources and positive coping mechanisms—rather than dysfunctional ones like denial, disengagement, and self-blame—was associated with lower levels of caregiver burden and depression.

A 2022 study investigated whether spousal caregivers of older adults with chronic illnesses or disabilities benefited from feeling appreciated by their partners. The researchers found that those who experienced higher levels of perceived gratitude had better mental health, while those who experienced higher rates of role overload had worse mental health. They also determined that greater perceived gratitude decreased the impact of caregiver role overload on anxiety levels and psychological well-being.

A 2024 study investigated the impact of gratitude on family caregivers of individuals with Alzheimer’s disease. The researchers concluded that caregivers experiencing burden were more likely to find meaning in life if they cultivated gratitude. They further explained that having a sense of meaning can benefit caregivers significantly, as it can help them view their role as less distressing and enable them to experience better psychological well-being.

Mechanisms That Make Gratitude Beneficial

Studies have shown that experiencing gratitude can impact our brains in positive ways, including by stimulating the production of “feel-good” chemicals like dopamine and serotonin. It can also regulate the production of the “stress hormone” cortisol, restructure cognitive processes by helping us shift from negative to positive thinking, and strengthen neural pathways associated with positive feelings.

According to neuroscientist Glenn Fox, gratitude’s impact on the medial prefrontal cortex can partly explain why grateful feelings lead to positive health outcomes:

“This area of the brain is associated with understanding other people’s perspectives, empathy, and feelings of relief… The regions associated with gratitude are part of the neural networks that light up when we socialize and experience pleasure. The regions are also heavily connected to the parts of the brain that control basic emotion regulation, such as heart rate and arousal levels, and are associated with stress relief and thus pain reduction.”

Such findings and others have led to the development of additional theories as to why gratitude produces benefits. The schematic hypothesis proposes that grateful people have cognitive schemas that lead them to interpret situations in a more positive light, which impacts their emotional responses and contributes to their well-being. The coping hypothesis contends that grateful people seek out instrumental and emotional social support, cope actively, and positively reinterpret situations. The positive affect hypothesis proposes that gratitude, as a positively valenced emotion, can lead to greater positive affect, protecting individuals from mental health disorders and contributing to life satisfaction. Lastly, the broaden-and-build theory suggests that positive emotions like gratitude, joy, interest, and love broaden people’s thought-action repertoires and build their psychological, social, cognitive, and physical resources. This can improve coping abilities, boost awareness, and increase resilience, thereby contributing to well-being.

Gratitude Journaling Tips for Caregivers

Choose your journal: Select a medium you’re comfortable with, whether it’s a new journal, an old notebook, your laptop, or a writing app on your phone. Thnx4.org, a project of the University of California, Berkeley’s Greater Good Science Center, offers a digital gratitude journal you can try out.

Establish a habit of writing: Choose whatever time works best for your schedule, whether it be morning, afternoon, or evening. You can set a reminder for yourself or place your journal in a spot where you’ll see it routinely. You may also find it helpful to write in your journal while practicing an existing habit, like drinking your morning coffee.

Determine how much and how often you want to write: Most researchers recommend reflecting on three to five things you’re grateful for every time you write. Since there are no strict rules about this, it’s important to test it out to see what works best for you.

In terms of frequency, Emmons recommends writing in your gratitude journal once or twice a week. This is because there is evidence that writing too often may lead to habituation, which can reduce its positive impact. Because everyone is different, it’s essential to experiment and find a frequency that suits your goals and preferences.

Find ways to make journaling easy and sustainable: Don’t overthink it or be too strict on yourself. Just write whatever comes to your mind. Also, remember not to worry about spelling or grammar, as you’re writing for your eyes only. If you’re struggling to come up with ideas, try experimenting with these 100 gratitude prompts by Joel Wong, professor of counseling psychology at Indiana University Bloomington.

Be specific: Describing a positive experience in depth is more impactful than writing a long, shallow list of positive things. Specificity is crucial because it encourages us to pay more attention to the details and circumstances of our positive experiences and not take them for granted. When choosing someone or something to write about, Emmons recommends breaking it down into several components and contemplating each one.

For instance, let’s say you’re writing about how thankful you are to the nurse who paid your loved one a home health care visit. Are you grateful that her visit allowed your loved one to receive care from the comfort of his own home? Are you thankful for the compassion she showed, the medical supplies she dropped off, and the much-needed treatment she provided? These are the types of thoughts and feelings you should reflect on.

Focus on people: Gratitude journaling is more effective when you write about people instead of things. When doing so, it’s important to reflect on the blessings you have received from those people. Emmons claims this is beneficial because it takes the focus off materialism and places it on relationships. This can promote deeper bonds with anyone in a caregiver’s life, including friends, relatives, and health care practitioners. It can also foster empathy and goodwill toward others, which may lead to more positive interactions.

Relish surprises: In their book, The Cognitive Structure of Emotions, authors Andrew Ortony, Gerald L. Clore, and Allan Collins discovered that positive experiences that are also surprising elicit stronger emotional responses than those that are expected. This element of surprise can prompt stronger feelings of gratitude. This is why Emmons claims it’s important to write about novel or unanticipated blessings. This will also keep your writing interesting, engaging, and inspiring.

View positive things as gifts: In his book, The Gratitude Factor: Enhancing Your Life through Grateful Living, psychologist Charles Shelton recommends referencing the things, people, and experiences you’re grateful for as “gifts.” Doing so can prevent you from taking the gift for granted or feeling entitled to it. It may also allow you to appreciate the source of the gift, which can encourage reciprocity. Moreover, it promotes enjoyment, as things that are viewed as gifts are more likely to be savored. “As we document our gifts, we no longer take them for granted. We take them as granted, as they were intended to be. We begin to be grateful for the ability to feel gratitude,” says Emmons.

Imagine your life without certain blessings: Envisioning how your life may have turned out if a positive experience had never happened—also known as “mental subtraction”—can enable us to experience a heightened sense of gratitude for such events. In fact, a series of studies conducted in 2008 found that performing this exercise led to increased levels of thankfulness and positive affect in participants. Emmons claims this technique is beneficial because it helps us counter the tendency to “adapt” to our fortunes. You can practice this in your journal by asking yourself questions like, “How much more stressful would my life be if I had never adopted my comfort dog?” instead of reflecting on general statements like, “I’m so thankful I adopted my comfort dog.”

Be grateful for the negative situations you escaped or reframed into something positive: Thinking about near misses can help you acknowledge how many things go well in life and remind you of how blessed you are to receive such gifts. According to psychologist Mike Brooks, “Shifting perspective from regretting the positives that could have been to celebrating the negatives that weren’t can powerfully affect our outlook on life.”

For instance, let’s say you almost forgot to give your loved one their medication. You can write about how thankful you are that you remembered it at the last minute; otherwise, there could have been consequences for the patient’s health. You can also reflect on any positive outcomes or lessons you learned. For example, perhaps you decided to prevent a future recurrence by setting reminders for yourself.

Explore a new angle on a “gift” you’ve already written about: If you write about a specific topic more than once, it’s essential to explore a different aspect of that topic. Emmons claims this can give a fresh perspective on what you’re grateful for, which can prevent monotony and help you sustain your interest in journaling while also fostering deeper self-reflection.

Explore the Positives of Caregiving Through Gratitude Journaling

The caregiving journey is often filled with anxiety, exhaustion, sorrow, and heartbreak. Fortunately, reflecting on one’s blessings through gratitude journaling can be a transformative coping mechanism for caregivers experiencing burden. Gratitude can allow a caregiver to see the abundance that surrounds them. It can turn anguish into peace, loneliness into belonging, and fear into courage.

So if you’re a caregiver, go for it. Grab your journal, put pen to paper, and see where your blessings take you. With time, you may find that your burden has eased and that your life is filled with more treasures than you ever imagined.