“The world’s ocean is not in good shape,” said Ambassador David Balton, testifying before the U.S. Senate Subcommittee on Oceans, Atmosphere, Fisheries, and Coast Guard, on September 18. Ambassador Balton is a Senior Fellow with the Wilson Center’s Polar Initiative. As former Deputy Assistant Secretary for Oceans and Fisheries in the Department of State, he coordinated U.S. foreign policy concerning oceans and fisheries, as well as issues relating to the Arctic and Antarctica. According to Balton, the ocean “faces three serious and interrelated challenges: unsustainable fisheries, marine pollution, and serious effects caused by climate change and related challenges such as ocean acidification.”

Great power competition in Asia is not only about control of critical waterways in the South China Sea, but also about who controls Asia’s fresh water. The future of Asia’s water—upon which about four billion people depend—lies in China’s hands. Through its presence in Tibet, China controls the headwaters of ten of the eleven major rivers of Asia. So far, China has taken a relatively cooperative approach to sharing water with its neighbors as part of the systematic consolidation of its “soft power” over downstream countries. But climate change and rapid growth are threatening to upset this delicate diplomatic balance. What happens when China’s own thirst outpaces its resources? And how will China’s choices affect U.S. interests in the strategic Asia-Pacific region?

Solar farms—just like regular farms—cover large swaths of land, requiring between 3.5 to 16.5 acres per MW of generating capacity. The largest solar plant in the world, the 648 MW Kamuthi facility in Tamil Nadu, India, covers ten square kilometers. But it will be dwarfed by the 3,450 MW facility under construction on China’s Tibetan Plateau, which will span 298 square kilometers when completed. Building these large plants requires fundamentally changing how the land they sit on is used, which—without careful planning—could have negative impacts on the environment and local communities that could potentially lead to conflict. The backlash could not only derail solar projects, but could also fuel resistance to future renewable energy development.

The silver tsunami is approaching: Many countries, not all of them rich, are facing the challenges of an ageing population thanks to growing life expectancies and shrinking birth rates.

Water engineer Gordon Mumbo of USAID’s Sustainable Water Partnership grew up in the small Kenyan village of Kamuga. Year after year, he watched as frequent floods from one of Kenya’s major rivers, the Nyando, disrupted village life. After 30 years of a wide-ranging career in water, for the first time since his childhood, he has returned to his birthplace, where he leads a team building community engagement in the Mara River basin.

Last May, the European Union announced an ambitious plan to dedicate 10 percent of its 2019 humanitarian aid budget to education during emergencies. At the same time the European Commission released its first policy on education in emergencies, observing that “access to quality education is being denied to millions of children by increasingly protracted conflicts, forced displacement, violence, climate change and disasters.” As a result, the Commission notes, “uneducated, lost generations” have been forced “to embark on perilous journeys to Europe and other regions of the world, affecting their stability and development.” The European Union’s announcement is a welcome development for global education, which has received scant attention from international aid agencies and languished at the margins of the international humanitarian agenda.

When I arrived at Bangladesh’s Cox’s Bazar in July, the infamous monsoon was well underway. The rain was intense, roads were muddy, and it was very difficult to move around. Cox’s Bazar—the closest big town to the Rohingya refugee camps—is now the base city for most of the humanitarian agencies working with the refugees. The distance between Cox’s Bazar and Kutupalong Camp—the world’s largest refugee camp—is barely 30 kilometers. However, due to the rain and the area’s hilly terrain, it seemed like it took ages to get there.

The Kurdish people’s century-long quest for self-determination reveals a key aspect of ethnic separatist conflicts. Ideas of nationhood can endure for generations, unifying people across borders and often making separatist conflicts hard to resolve. But how much harder is it to resolve separatist conflicts than other violent, non-territorial intra-state wars (such as political revolutions)? In practical terms, how much longer, on average, can policymakers expect separatist conflicts to persist and reoccur than the typical political revolution? These are tough questions. Surprisingly, demography helps us find the answers.