Jeremy P. Shapiro, Case Western Reserve University

I began practicing psychotherapy during the Reagan administration. Thirty years went by before distress about politics became a clinical issue for any of my clients.

I remember the moment it first happened: There was a long voicemail from a distraught woman requesting therapy for anxiety and depression in reaction to the 2016 presidential election of Donald Trump. I listened twice to make sure I hadn’t missed something. I hadn’t. There were no other issues. This woman wanted therapy for political distress.

That was a new one for me and every therapist I knew. But now I see no sign of this clinical challenge abating.

Political polarization in the U.S. is at the highest level ever measured. Growing majorities of both Republicans and Democrats say they consider members of the other party to be unintelligent, dishonest and immoral.

What I’m calling political distress is a bipartisan mental health problem. It is based on a belief that, because the country is in the hands of bad leaders, awful things might happen. Many people experience intense fear about what the other side might do. Both Republicans and Democrats have experienced this anguish, but it peaks at different times for the two parties, depending on who won the last election.

We psychotherapists like to base our interventions on research-based strategies that have been vetted in clinical trials or, if not that, at least strategies grounded in the clinical expertise of master therapists who wrote classic books. There’s none of that for how to deal with political distress.

But therapists cannot tell a client in distress that future research is needed before we can help. Instead, we pull from what is known about how best to handle related issues. Here’s the advice I’m sharing with my clients who are upset about the way the world is going.

Taking a longer view

Information about American history is relevant to political distress because, psychologically, people evaluate their situations by comparing them with anchors or norms. You compare current dangers and threats with what you’ve faced and survived in the past.

A Democrat comparing today’s United States with the country a decade ago may feel gloomy. But broader comparisons can produce a more grounded, calming perspective.

The U.S. has faced major trials and tribulations over the course of its history. The country has proven itself to be a resilient democracy. Basic information about the Civil War, the Great Depression and World War II yields a sense that the present political moment is not the only perilous time our republic has ever faced.

Wisdom of the Serenity Prayer

God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.

The Serenity Prayer is an effective summary of research on coping. As I discuss in my book “Finding Goldilocks,” the well-known invocation identifies two basic strategies and tells you when to use which one. People need the strength to change what can be changed and the serenity to accept what cannot. Political distress, like many stressors, calls for a combination of both tactics.

Doing what you can means funneling political anxiety into political actions, including voting, volunteering, donating money and serving as a poll worker. Can one person’s actions make a difference? They can make one person’s worth of difference. You can’t do everything, but you can do something.

In addition, taking action about a problem, even if it does not produce a solution, often reduces distress, especially if it brings you together with like-minded people.

Once you’ve done what you can, it’s important to acknowledge how much is beyond your control: The whole world doesn’t rest on your shoulders alone. Then you can in good conscience turn your attention to the good things in your own personal life.

It helps to limit your consumption of political news; past a certain point, you’re not learning anything new and just fueling your agitation.

The best things in life aren’t political

One basic tool of cognitive therapy for anxiety is asking the question, “What is the worst thing that could plausibly happen?” The purpose of this question is not to get anxious people thinking about worst-case scenarios – they’re doing that already – but to move their thought process forward to a picture of how they could survive their worst fear. This is a strangely effective form of reassurance.

Democrats believe Donald Trump’s second administration will hurt people. But with important exceptions – such as undocumented immigrants who could be deported – when many people try to picture exactly how their lives will be damaged in specific, concrete, serious ways, they usually do not come up with much.

This does not mean nothing bad will happen. It does mean you likely can cope with whatever does. While Trump’s policies might be unfortunate and even infuriating for those on the other side of the aisle, they are unlikely to be disastrous on an immediate, day-to-day level for large groups of people.

A very broad perspective will remind you that democracy is a rarity in world history. For most of civilization, people have lived in monarchies or tyrannies of some sort, and most of them managed to be OK.

I’m not suggesting that people disengage from the political world. I believe it’s important to stand up for what you believe is right. My advice is not to put on your rose-colored glasses and withdraw into your own safe space, the rest of the world be damned.

But the main sources of human well-being are family, friends, meaningful work, hobbies, the arts, nature, spirituality and acts of kindness. None of these depend on political systems. We can cope with political distress by falling back on the best things in life.

Jeremy P. Shapiro, Adjunct Assistant Professor of Psychological Sciences, Case Western Reserve University

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

Louis Shekhtman, Bar-Ilan University

The foundations making charitable donations to support scientific and health research mostly give to institutions in their home states.

That’s what I found in a study I conducted with two fellow data scientists, Albert Laszlo Barabasi and Alexander J. Gates. In analyzing foundation grants that supported scientific research from 2010-2019, we determined that nearly 40% of those grants and 60% of the total number of dollars given backed scientific and health research initiatives based in the donor’s or the foundation’s own state.

We also found that these donors and foundations tend to support the same institutions year after year. Roughly 70% of the scientific and health research grants that foundations made one year were provided again the next year. What’s more, there’s a 90% chance that foundations that have supported an institution for seven years straight will support the same institution again the following year.

We analyzed Internal Revenue Service data drawn from 990 forms – paperwork that foundations are required by law to file annually.

We identified 69,675 nonprofits that either performed scientific research or supported that kind of research. Those nonprofits received nearly 1 million unique grants from foundations over the previous decade. Those donations totaled more than US$30 billion in 2019 alone.

Here are three examples.

While on average only 2% of foundation funding for science and health research went to support work in the state of Washington, the Bill & Melinda Gates Foundation, located in Seattle, gave over 20% of its research funds to projects in that state from 2010 to 2019.

The Lilly Endowment gave 62% of all of its research funding to institutions located in Indiana, where it’s based.

The Dennis Washington Foundation, which is located in Missoula, Montana, funded health and science research exclusively at universities in Montana – providing more than $20 million for those endeavors.

Why it matters

While the highly local nature of private funding for this research surprised us, it is relatively common in philanthropy.

At the same time, the local focus of many private funders is at odds with how most health researchers and scientists view and perform their work, which typically involves national or even global teams of experts.

The $30 billion in annual funding from foundations is also significant simply because of its scale. This sum may equal as much as half of what the U.S. government distributes annually to support scientific and health research.

The National Institutes of Health, a U.S. government agency responsible for medical research, has a roughly $47 billion annual budget.

And the National Science Foundation, another federal agency that supports scientific research, has an approximately $10 billion annual budget.

The federal government funds science and health research through other agencies, too, including the Department of Defense, but the precise total of that support is hard to determine.

What still isn’t known

The available data makes it possible to identify only the foundation that provides a grant and its recipient. Details regarding the goals or purpose of this funding are scarce. That makes it hard to assess the impact foundations have for scientific and health research.

The Research Brief is a short take about interesting academic work.

The Bill & Melinda Gates Foundation is a funder of The Conversation Africa. The Lilly Endowment is a funder of The Conversation U.S.

Louis Shekhtman, Senior Lecturer of Information Science, Bar-Ilan University

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

Gary W. Yohe, Wesleyan University

The devastating wildfires in Los Angeles have made one threat very clear: Climate change is undermining the insurance systems American homeowners rely on to protect themselves from catastrophes. This breakdown is starting to become painfully clear as families and communities struggle to rebuild.

But another threat remains less recognized: This collapse could pose a threat to the stability of financial markets well beyond the scope of the fires.

It’s been widely accepted for more than a decade that humanity has three choices when it comes to responding to climate risks: adapt, abate or suffer. As an expert in economics and the environment, I know that some degree of suffering is inevitable — after all, humans have already raised the average global temperature by 1.6 degrees Celsius, or 2.9 degrees Fahrenheit. That’s why it’s so important to have functioning insurance markets.

While insurance companies are often cast as villains, when the system works well, insurers play an important role in improving social welfare. When an insurer sets premiums that accurately reflect and communicate risk — what economists call “actuarially fair insurance” — that helps people share risk efficiently, leaving every individual safer and society better off.

But the scale and intensity of the Southern California fires — linked in part to climate change, including record-high global temperatures in 2023 and again in 2024 — has brought a big problem into focus: In a world impacted by increasing climate risk, traditional insurance models no longer apply.

How climate change broke insurance

Historically, the insurance system has worked by relying on experts who study records of past events to estimate how likely it is that a covered event might happen. They then use this information to determine how much to charge a given policyholder. This is called “pricing the risk.”

When Americans try to borrow money to buy a home, they expect that mortgage lenders will make them purchase and maintain a certain level of homeowners insurance coverage, even if they chose to self-insure against unlikely additional losses. But thanks to climate change, risks are increasingly difficult to measure, and costs are increasingly catastrophic. It seems clear to me that a new paradigm is needed.

California provided the beginnings of such a paradigm with its Fair Access to Insurance program, known as FAIR. When it was created in 1968, its authors expected that it would provide insurance coverage for the few owners who were unable to get normal policies because they faced special risks from exposure to unusual weather and local climates.

But the program’s coverage is capped at US$500,000 per property – well below the losses that thousands of Los Angeles residents are experiencing right now. Total losses from the wildfires’ first week alone are estimated to exceed $250 billion.

How insurance could break the economy

This state of affairs isn’t just dangerous for homeowners and communities — it could create widespread financial instability. And it’s not just me making this point. For the past several years, central bankers at home and abroad have raised similar concerns. So let’s talk about the risks of large-scale financial contagion.

Anyone who remembers the Great Recession of 2007-2009 knows that seemingly localized problems can snowball.

In that event, the value of opaque bundles of real estate derivatives collapsed from artificial and unsustainable highs, leaving millions of mortgages around the U.S. “underwater.” These properties were no longer valued above owners’ mortgage liabilities, so their best choice was simply to walk away from the obligation to make their monthly payments.

Lenders were forced to foreclose, often at an enormous loss, and the collapse of real estate markets across the U.S. created a global recession that affected financial stability around the world.

Forewarned by that experience, the U.S. Federal Reserve Board wrote in 2020 that “features of climate change can also increase financial system vulnerabilities.” The central bank noted that uncertainty and disagreement about climate risks can lead to sudden declines in asset values, leaving people and businesses vulnerable.

At that time, the Fed had a specific climate-based example of a not-implausible contagion in mind – global risks from sudden large increases in global sea level rise over something like 20 years. A collapse of the West Antarctic Ice Sheet could create such an event, and coastlines around the world would not have enough time to adapt.

The Fed now has another scenario to consider – one that’s not hypothetical.

It recently put U.S. banks through “stress tests” to gauge their vulnerability to climate risks. In these exercises, the Fed asked member banks to respond to hypothetical but not-implausible climate-based contagion scenarios that would threaten the stability of the entire system.

We will now see if the plans borne of those stress tests can work in the face of enormous wildfires burning throughout an urban area that’s also a financial, cultural and entertainment center of the world.

Gary W. Yohe, Huffington Foundation Professor of Economics and Environmental Studies, Wesleyan University

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.