Global demand for copper has climbed dramatically in recent years, a trend that is likely to continue apace. Peru is the world’s second largest producer of copper. Yet the clamor for copper is an opportunity that the nation is unable to seize upon at present. Peru is now undergoing severe political upheaval and protests that have brought new attention to the underlying risks in extractive industries and supply chains. Production cuts stemming from protests and blockades could amount to 3 percent of global copper output.

One can see—and feel—tides shifting significantly on numerous fronts across the globe, especially in the area of climate security. Opportunities and challenges abound—especially for urban communities.

But are those who shape and carry out U.S. foreign policy ready for these extraordinary changes? And how can the growing movement to integrate diversity, equity, inclusion, and accessibility (DEIA) become vital in U.S. foreign affairs?

For thousands of years, natural factors like rainfall and temperature helped determine the fate of economies and societies. For thousands of years, humans also engaged in human trafficking and kept one another as enslaved people. But as human prosperity increased exponentially beginning in the 19^th century, it may have seemed that such concerns were relics of the past.

We have all the tools we need for the elimination of cervical cancer, a largely preventable cancer that annually kills more than 300,000 women worldwide—the vast majority in low- and middle-income countries.

 

During the 2010s, the United States was on the verge of permanently losing competitiveness in global nuclear energy markets. This weakness threatened American geopolitical goals, with Russia further extending its nuclear market dominance and China eyeing reactor exports across the Belt and Road.

Climate change has become part of our daily lexicon. Rarely does a week pass when a hurricane, drought, wildfire, or some other climate disruption is not front page news. These headlines often offer dire predictions of mass migration as well—a bracing vision of hordes of people moving to greener pastures, often found further inland and further north, where some political leaders leverage the narrative to push their own agendas.

Under the narrow shade of our umbrellas, a community health worker from a local NGO and I walked along a dirt path to the edge of some paddy fields in a village in Tamil Nadu, South India in the summer of 2015. There we met a group of Dalit (oppressed-caste) women who were squeezed together under a clump of trees on a small strip of raised land between two fields.

The summer of 2015 was one of the hottest on record in South India at that time, with temperatures consistently above 40ºC (104ºF) every day. Rains which should have begun to arrive had not come by mid-July. These women were hoping to be called for daily agricultural wage labor in the fields, and they had taken refuge under the shade while they waited. They had been waiting all morning with no work available; it had been the same for several days because there was a drought and the crops were failing.

In 2022, the Dot-Mom column published several pieces from expert guest authors from the greater maternal and reproductive health community. In our top read guest contributor piece of the year, Susie Jolly examined the role of colonialism in sexuality education globally. Jolly highlighted examples where sexual health knowledge is built on unethical medical research carried out on racialized people, such as the study of untreated syphilis among Black men in the United States. Sexuality educators, especially those placed in the Global North, have a responsibility to work to decolonize their work. Jolly suggests supporting resources led by marginalized people, critically examining colonialism’s influence in the understanding of sexuality, and shifting the dynamics of who decides on content to lend more weight to non-Western expertise and young people learning from their own experiences.