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A Permanent Fund Dividend (PFD) check written from the state of Alaska. This check also includes payment for an energy rebate program for which state residents may be eligible. And yes, that's Gov. Sarah Palin's signature. (Photo: travis/flick/cc)
There's long been a notion that, because money is a prerequisite for survival and security, everyone should be assured some income just for being alive. The notion has been advanced by liberals such as James Tobin, John Kenneth Galbraith, and George McGovern, and by conservatives like Friedrich Hayek, Milton Friedman, and Richard Nixon. It's embedded in the board game Monopoly, in which all players get equal payments when they pass Go. And yet, with one exception, Americans have been unable to agree on any plan that guarantees some income to everyone. The reasons lie mostly in the stories that surround such income. Is it welfare? Is it redistribution? Does it require higher taxes and bigger government? Americans think dimly of all these things.
Paying dividends has bolstered the state's economy, reduced poverty, and made Alaska one of the least unequal states in America.
But then, there's the exception. Jay Hammond, the Republican governor of Alaska from 1974 to 1982, was an independent thinker who conceived of, and then persuaded Alaska's legislators to adopt, the world's first system for paying equal dividends to everyone. In Hammond's model, the money comes not from taxes but from a common resource: North Slope oil. Using proceeds from that gift of nature, the Alaska Permanent Fund has paid equal yearly dividends to every resident, including children, ranging from about $1,000 to over $3,000. (Bear in mind that a family of four collects four same sized dividends.) While this isn't enough to live on, it nicely supplements Alaskans' other earnings. And paying such dividends regularly for more than thirty years has bolstered the state's economy, reduced poverty, and made Alaska one of the least unequal states in America.
The question Americans in the lower 48 should now ask is: Did Alaska find the right formula? If it can convert part of its common wealth into equal dividends for everyone, can the rest of America do the same?
There are many good reasons to ask this question. One is that America's middle class is in steady decline. In the heyday of our middle class, jobs at IBM and General Motors were often jobs for life. Employers offered decent wages, health insurance, paid vacations and defined pensions. Nowadays, such jobs are rare.
It's also unlikely that the jobs of the future will pay more (adjusted for inflation) than today's. In unionized industries like autos and airlines, two-tier contracts are now the norm, with younger workers paid substantially less than older ones for doing the same work. Nor is the picture brighter in other industries. In the Labor Department's latest list of occupations with the greatest projected job growth, only one out of six pays more than $60,000 a year. The implication is clear: without some form of supplementary non-labor income, we can kiss our middle class goodbye.
The second reason to ponder Alaska's dividends is climate change. It might seem odd that dividends based on oil could presage a remedy for climate change, but such is the case. Imagine if we charged companies for using another common resource--our air--and distributed the revenue equally to all. If we did this, two things would follow. First, higher air pollution costs would lead to less fossil fuel burning and more investment in renewables. And second, households that used less dirty energy would gain (their dividends would exceed their higher costs) while households that used a lot of dirty energy would pay. This would spur both companies and households to do the right thing.
There's long been a notion that, because money is a prerequisite for survival and security, everyone should be assured some income just for being alive.
A third reason for considering Alaska's model is our long-lasting economic stagnation. Not counting asset bubbles, our economy hasn't sparkled for decades, and neither fiscal nor monetary policies have helped much. Tax cuts for the rich have benefited no one but the rich, and as Mark Blyth and Eric Lonergan recently wrote in Foreign Affairs, pumping trillions of dollars into banks hasn't stimulated our economy either. What's needed is a system that continually refreshes consumer demand from the middle out--something like periodic dividends to everyone that can be spent immediately.
One further reason for looking north to Alaska is the current stalemate in American politics. Solutions to all major problems are trapped in a tug-of-war between advocates of smaller and larger government. Dividends from common wealth bypass that bitter war. They require no new taxes or government programs; once set up, they're purely market based. And because they send legitimate property income to everyone, they can't be derided as welfare.
In this regard, it's worth noting that Alaska's dividends are immensely popular. Politicians in both parties sing their praises, as do the state's voters. One attempt in 1999 to transfer money from the Permanent Fund to the state treasury was trounced in a referendum by 83 percent. Nationally, Alaska's model has been lauded by Fox News commentators Bill O'Reilly and Lou Dobbs as well as liberals like Robert Reich.
The reasons for this popularity are pretty clear. Alaskans don't see their dividends as welfare or redistribution. According to several surveys, most Alaskans consider their dividends to be their rightful share of their state's natural wealth. There's thus no stigma attached to them, and any attempt by politicians to reduce them is seen as an encroachment on legitimate property income.
Moreover, because the dividends are universal rather than means-tested, they unite, rather than divide, Alaskans. If only "losers" got them, "winners" would be resentful. Universality puts everyone in the same boat. No one is demonized and a broad constituency protects the dividends from political attack.
How might a common wealth dividend system work at the national level? The easy part is distributing the dividends. As in Alaska, enrollment could be done online and payments could be wired electronically at a cost of pennies per transaction. The Social Security Administration could set that up in a jiffy.
In the Labor Department's latest list of occupations with the greatest projected job growth, only one out of six pays more than $60,000 a year.
The harder part is collecting the revenue. In my latest book, With Liberty and Dividends For All, I show how, over time, we could generate enough revenue to pay dividends of up to $5,000 per person per year. Initially, a sizable chunk would come from selling a declining number of permits to dump carbon into our air. Later, more revenue could flow from our monetary infrastructure, our patent and copyright systems, and our electromagnetic airwaves.
Consider what $5,000 per person per year would mean. If a child's dividends were saved and invested starting from birth, they'd yield enough to pay for a debt-free college education at a public university. In midlife, $5,000 per person would add 25 percent to the income of a family of four earning $80,000 a year. In late life, it would boost the average retiree's Social Security benefit by about 30 percent. Thus, dividends from common wealth would provide a badly-needed boost for poor and middle class families during what promises to be a lasting shortage of good-paying jobs.
Surprisingly, the core idea behind Alaska's dividends is over two centuries old. In his 1796 essay "Agrarian Justice," American patriot Thomas Paine distinguished between two kinds of property: "natural property, or that which comes to us from the Creator of the universe--such as the earth, air, water ... [and] artificial or acquired property, the invention of men." The second kind of property, Paine argued, must necessarily be distributed unequally, but the first kind belongs to everyone equally. It is the "legitimate birthright" of every man and woman, "not charity but a right."
And Paine went further. He proposed a practical way to implement that right: create a "National Fund" to pay every man and woman a lump sum (roughly $17,000 in today's money) at age twenty-one, and a stipend of about $1,000 a month after age fifty-five. Revenue would come from what Paine called "ground rent" paid by landowners. He even showed mathematically how this could work.
Presciently, Paine recognized that land, air, and water could be monetized not just for the benefit of a few but for the good of all. Further, he saw that this could be done at a national level. This was a remarkable feat of analysis and imagination, and it's time to apply it broadly.
Alaskans don't see their dividends as welfare or redistribution...but consider their dividends to be their rightful share of their state's natural wealth.
Today, Paine's core idea--that everyone has a right to equal income from common wealth--can be applied not just to natural resources but also to creations of society. Consider, for example, the immense value created by our legal, intellectual, and financial infrastructures, the Internet, and our economy as a whole. This value isn't created by single individuals or corporations; it's created collectively and hence belongs equally to all. In a fairer economy some of it would actually be distributed to all. The ideal mechanism for doing this would be common wealth dividends--simple, transparent, direct (not trickle down), built on co-ownership rather than redistribution, and politically appealing.
And here's the best part. If Paine's idea and Alaska's model were applied at sufficient scale, the implications would be vast. The current tendencies of capitalism to widen inequality and devour nature would be self-corrected. Instead of plutocracy and climate change, our market economy would generate widely-shared, earth-friendly prosperity. And it would achieve these goals automatically, without much need for government intervention.
Is this wild-eyed dreaming? Possibly, but no more so than universal suffrage or social insurance once were. Common wealth dividends could be the next step in America's long march toward equal rights--and the game-changer that leads to a new version of capitalism. But first, we have to see the opportunity and demand it.
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There's long been a notion that, because money is a prerequisite for survival and security, everyone should be assured some income just for being alive. The notion has been advanced by liberals such as James Tobin, John Kenneth Galbraith, and George McGovern, and by conservatives like Friedrich Hayek, Milton Friedman, and Richard Nixon. It's embedded in the board game Monopoly, in which all players get equal payments when they pass Go. And yet, with one exception, Americans have been unable to agree on any plan that guarantees some income to everyone. The reasons lie mostly in the stories that surround such income. Is it welfare? Is it redistribution? Does it require higher taxes and bigger government? Americans think dimly of all these things.
Paying dividends has bolstered the state's economy, reduced poverty, and made Alaska one of the least unequal states in America.
But then, there's the exception. Jay Hammond, the Republican governor of Alaska from 1974 to 1982, was an independent thinker who conceived of, and then persuaded Alaska's legislators to adopt, the world's first system for paying equal dividends to everyone. In Hammond's model, the money comes not from taxes but from a common resource: North Slope oil. Using proceeds from that gift of nature, the Alaska Permanent Fund has paid equal yearly dividends to every resident, including children, ranging from about $1,000 to over $3,000. (Bear in mind that a family of four collects four same sized dividends.) While this isn't enough to live on, it nicely supplements Alaskans' other earnings. And paying such dividends regularly for more than thirty years has bolstered the state's economy, reduced poverty, and made Alaska one of the least unequal states in America.
The question Americans in the lower 48 should now ask is: Did Alaska find the right formula? If it can convert part of its common wealth into equal dividends for everyone, can the rest of America do the same?
There are many good reasons to ask this question. One is that America's middle class is in steady decline. In the heyday of our middle class, jobs at IBM and General Motors were often jobs for life. Employers offered decent wages, health insurance, paid vacations and defined pensions. Nowadays, such jobs are rare.
It's also unlikely that the jobs of the future will pay more (adjusted for inflation) than today's. In unionized industries like autos and airlines, two-tier contracts are now the norm, with younger workers paid substantially less than older ones for doing the same work. Nor is the picture brighter in other industries. In the Labor Department's latest list of occupations with the greatest projected job growth, only one out of six pays more than $60,000 a year. The implication is clear: without some form of supplementary non-labor income, we can kiss our middle class goodbye.
The second reason to ponder Alaska's dividends is climate change. It might seem odd that dividends based on oil could presage a remedy for climate change, but such is the case. Imagine if we charged companies for using another common resource--our air--and distributed the revenue equally to all. If we did this, two things would follow. First, higher air pollution costs would lead to less fossil fuel burning and more investment in renewables. And second, households that used less dirty energy would gain (their dividends would exceed their higher costs) while households that used a lot of dirty energy would pay. This would spur both companies and households to do the right thing.
There's long been a notion that, because money is a prerequisite for survival and security, everyone should be assured some income just for being alive.
A third reason for considering Alaska's model is our long-lasting economic stagnation. Not counting asset bubbles, our economy hasn't sparkled for decades, and neither fiscal nor monetary policies have helped much. Tax cuts for the rich have benefited no one but the rich, and as Mark Blyth and Eric Lonergan recently wrote in Foreign Affairs, pumping trillions of dollars into banks hasn't stimulated our economy either. What's needed is a system that continually refreshes consumer demand from the middle out--something like periodic dividends to everyone that can be spent immediately.
One further reason for looking north to Alaska is the current stalemate in American politics. Solutions to all major problems are trapped in a tug-of-war between advocates of smaller and larger government. Dividends from common wealth bypass that bitter war. They require no new taxes or government programs; once set up, they're purely market based. And because they send legitimate property income to everyone, they can't be derided as welfare.
In this regard, it's worth noting that Alaska's dividends are immensely popular. Politicians in both parties sing their praises, as do the state's voters. One attempt in 1999 to transfer money from the Permanent Fund to the state treasury was trounced in a referendum by 83 percent. Nationally, Alaska's model has been lauded by Fox News commentators Bill O'Reilly and Lou Dobbs as well as liberals like Robert Reich.
The reasons for this popularity are pretty clear. Alaskans don't see their dividends as welfare or redistribution. According to several surveys, most Alaskans consider their dividends to be their rightful share of their state's natural wealth. There's thus no stigma attached to them, and any attempt by politicians to reduce them is seen as an encroachment on legitimate property income.
Moreover, because the dividends are universal rather than means-tested, they unite, rather than divide, Alaskans. If only "losers" got them, "winners" would be resentful. Universality puts everyone in the same boat. No one is demonized and a broad constituency protects the dividends from political attack.
How might a common wealth dividend system work at the national level? The easy part is distributing the dividends. As in Alaska, enrollment could be done online and payments could be wired electronically at a cost of pennies per transaction. The Social Security Administration could set that up in a jiffy.
In the Labor Department's latest list of occupations with the greatest projected job growth, only one out of six pays more than $60,000 a year.
The harder part is collecting the revenue. In my latest book, With Liberty and Dividends For All, I show how, over time, we could generate enough revenue to pay dividends of up to $5,000 per person per year. Initially, a sizable chunk would come from selling a declining number of permits to dump carbon into our air. Later, more revenue could flow from our monetary infrastructure, our patent and copyright systems, and our electromagnetic airwaves.
Consider what $5,000 per person per year would mean. If a child's dividends were saved and invested starting from birth, they'd yield enough to pay for a debt-free college education at a public university. In midlife, $5,000 per person would add 25 percent to the income of a family of four earning $80,000 a year. In late life, it would boost the average retiree's Social Security benefit by about 30 percent. Thus, dividends from common wealth would provide a badly-needed boost for poor and middle class families during what promises to be a lasting shortage of good-paying jobs.
Surprisingly, the core idea behind Alaska's dividends is over two centuries old. In his 1796 essay "Agrarian Justice," American patriot Thomas Paine distinguished between two kinds of property: "natural property, or that which comes to us from the Creator of the universe--such as the earth, air, water ... [and] artificial or acquired property, the invention of men." The second kind of property, Paine argued, must necessarily be distributed unequally, but the first kind belongs to everyone equally. It is the "legitimate birthright" of every man and woman, "not charity but a right."
And Paine went further. He proposed a practical way to implement that right: create a "National Fund" to pay every man and woman a lump sum (roughly $17,000 in today's money) at age twenty-one, and a stipend of about $1,000 a month after age fifty-five. Revenue would come from what Paine called "ground rent" paid by landowners. He even showed mathematically how this could work.
Presciently, Paine recognized that land, air, and water could be monetized not just for the benefit of a few but for the good of all. Further, he saw that this could be done at a national level. This was a remarkable feat of analysis and imagination, and it's time to apply it broadly.
Alaskans don't see their dividends as welfare or redistribution...but consider their dividends to be their rightful share of their state's natural wealth.
Today, Paine's core idea--that everyone has a right to equal income from common wealth--can be applied not just to natural resources but also to creations of society. Consider, for example, the immense value created by our legal, intellectual, and financial infrastructures, the Internet, and our economy as a whole. This value isn't created by single individuals or corporations; it's created collectively and hence belongs equally to all. In a fairer economy some of it would actually be distributed to all. The ideal mechanism for doing this would be common wealth dividends--simple, transparent, direct (not trickle down), built on co-ownership rather than redistribution, and politically appealing.
And here's the best part. If Paine's idea and Alaska's model were applied at sufficient scale, the implications would be vast. The current tendencies of capitalism to widen inequality and devour nature would be self-corrected. Instead of plutocracy and climate change, our market economy would generate widely-shared, earth-friendly prosperity. And it would achieve these goals automatically, without much need for government intervention.
Is this wild-eyed dreaming? Possibly, but no more so than universal suffrage or social insurance once were. Common wealth dividends could be the next step in America's long march toward equal rights--and the game-changer that leads to a new version of capitalism. But first, we have to see the opportunity and demand it.
There's long been a notion that, because money is a prerequisite for survival and security, everyone should be assured some income just for being alive. The notion has been advanced by liberals such as James Tobin, John Kenneth Galbraith, and George McGovern, and by conservatives like Friedrich Hayek, Milton Friedman, and Richard Nixon. It's embedded in the board game Monopoly, in which all players get equal payments when they pass Go. And yet, with one exception, Americans have been unable to agree on any plan that guarantees some income to everyone. The reasons lie mostly in the stories that surround such income. Is it welfare? Is it redistribution? Does it require higher taxes and bigger government? Americans think dimly of all these things.
Paying dividends has bolstered the state's economy, reduced poverty, and made Alaska one of the least unequal states in America.
But then, there's the exception. Jay Hammond, the Republican governor of Alaska from 1974 to 1982, was an independent thinker who conceived of, and then persuaded Alaska's legislators to adopt, the world's first system for paying equal dividends to everyone. In Hammond's model, the money comes not from taxes but from a common resource: North Slope oil. Using proceeds from that gift of nature, the Alaska Permanent Fund has paid equal yearly dividends to every resident, including children, ranging from about $1,000 to over $3,000. (Bear in mind that a family of four collects four same sized dividends.) While this isn't enough to live on, it nicely supplements Alaskans' other earnings. And paying such dividends regularly for more than thirty years has bolstered the state's economy, reduced poverty, and made Alaska one of the least unequal states in America.
The question Americans in the lower 48 should now ask is: Did Alaska find the right formula? If it can convert part of its common wealth into equal dividends for everyone, can the rest of America do the same?
There are many good reasons to ask this question. One is that America's middle class is in steady decline. In the heyday of our middle class, jobs at IBM and General Motors were often jobs for life. Employers offered decent wages, health insurance, paid vacations and defined pensions. Nowadays, such jobs are rare.
It's also unlikely that the jobs of the future will pay more (adjusted for inflation) than today's. In unionized industries like autos and airlines, two-tier contracts are now the norm, with younger workers paid substantially less than older ones for doing the same work. Nor is the picture brighter in other industries. In the Labor Department's latest list of occupations with the greatest projected job growth, only one out of six pays more than $60,000 a year. The implication is clear: without some form of supplementary non-labor income, we can kiss our middle class goodbye.
The second reason to ponder Alaska's dividends is climate change. It might seem odd that dividends based on oil could presage a remedy for climate change, but such is the case. Imagine if we charged companies for using another common resource--our air--and distributed the revenue equally to all. If we did this, two things would follow. First, higher air pollution costs would lead to less fossil fuel burning and more investment in renewables. And second, households that used less dirty energy would gain (their dividends would exceed their higher costs) while households that used a lot of dirty energy would pay. This would spur both companies and households to do the right thing.
There's long been a notion that, because money is a prerequisite for survival and security, everyone should be assured some income just for being alive.
A third reason for considering Alaska's model is our long-lasting economic stagnation. Not counting asset bubbles, our economy hasn't sparkled for decades, and neither fiscal nor monetary policies have helped much. Tax cuts for the rich have benefited no one but the rich, and as Mark Blyth and Eric Lonergan recently wrote in Foreign Affairs, pumping trillions of dollars into banks hasn't stimulated our economy either. What's needed is a system that continually refreshes consumer demand from the middle out--something like periodic dividends to everyone that can be spent immediately.
One further reason for looking north to Alaska is the current stalemate in American politics. Solutions to all major problems are trapped in a tug-of-war between advocates of smaller and larger government. Dividends from common wealth bypass that bitter war. They require no new taxes or government programs; once set up, they're purely market based. And because they send legitimate property income to everyone, they can't be derided as welfare.
In this regard, it's worth noting that Alaska's dividends are immensely popular. Politicians in both parties sing their praises, as do the state's voters. One attempt in 1999 to transfer money from the Permanent Fund to the state treasury was trounced in a referendum by 83 percent. Nationally, Alaska's model has been lauded by Fox News commentators Bill O'Reilly and Lou Dobbs as well as liberals like Robert Reich.
The reasons for this popularity are pretty clear. Alaskans don't see their dividends as welfare or redistribution. According to several surveys, most Alaskans consider their dividends to be their rightful share of their state's natural wealth. There's thus no stigma attached to them, and any attempt by politicians to reduce them is seen as an encroachment on legitimate property income.
Moreover, because the dividends are universal rather than means-tested, they unite, rather than divide, Alaskans. If only "losers" got them, "winners" would be resentful. Universality puts everyone in the same boat. No one is demonized and a broad constituency protects the dividends from political attack.
How might a common wealth dividend system work at the national level? The easy part is distributing the dividends. As in Alaska, enrollment could be done online and payments could be wired electronically at a cost of pennies per transaction. The Social Security Administration could set that up in a jiffy.
In the Labor Department's latest list of occupations with the greatest projected job growth, only one out of six pays more than $60,000 a year.
The harder part is collecting the revenue. In my latest book, With Liberty and Dividends For All, I show how, over time, we could generate enough revenue to pay dividends of up to $5,000 per person per year. Initially, a sizable chunk would come from selling a declining number of permits to dump carbon into our air. Later, more revenue could flow from our monetary infrastructure, our patent and copyright systems, and our electromagnetic airwaves.
Consider what $5,000 per person per year would mean. If a child's dividends were saved and invested starting from birth, they'd yield enough to pay for a debt-free college education at a public university. In midlife, $5,000 per person would add 25 percent to the income of a family of four earning $80,000 a year. In late life, it would boost the average retiree's Social Security benefit by about 30 percent. Thus, dividends from common wealth would provide a badly-needed boost for poor and middle class families during what promises to be a lasting shortage of good-paying jobs.
Surprisingly, the core idea behind Alaska's dividends is over two centuries old. In his 1796 essay "Agrarian Justice," American patriot Thomas Paine distinguished between two kinds of property: "natural property, or that which comes to us from the Creator of the universe--such as the earth, air, water ... [and] artificial or acquired property, the invention of men." The second kind of property, Paine argued, must necessarily be distributed unequally, but the first kind belongs to everyone equally. It is the "legitimate birthright" of every man and woman, "not charity but a right."
And Paine went further. He proposed a practical way to implement that right: create a "National Fund" to pay every man and woman a lump sum (roughly $17,000 in today's money) at age twenty-one, and a stipend of about $1,000 a month after age fifty-five. Revenue would come from what Paine called "ground rent" paid by landowners. He even showed mathematically how this could work.
Presciently, Paine recognized that land, air, and water could be monetized not just for the benefit of a few but for the good of all. Further, he saw that this could be done at a national level. This was a remarkable feat of analysis and imagination, and it's time to apply it broadly.
Alaskans don't see their dividends as welfare or redistribution...but consider their dividends to be their rightful share of their state's natural wealth.
Today, Paine's core idea--that everyone has a right to equal income from common wealth--can be applied not just to natural resources but also to creations of society. Consider, for example, the immense value created by our legal, intellectual, and financial infrastructures, the Internet, and our economy as a whole. This value isn't created by single individuals or corporations; it's created collectively and hence belongs equally to all. In a fairer economy some of it would actually be distributed to all. The ideal mechanism for doing this would be common wealth dividends--simple, transparent, direct (not trickle down), built on co-ownership rather than redistribution, and politically appealing.
And here's the best part. If Paine's idea and Alaska's model were applied at sufficient scale, the implications would be vast. The current tendencies of capitalism to widen inequality and devour nature would be self-corrected. Instead of plutocracy and climate change, our market economy would generate widely-shared, earth-friendly prosperity. And it would achieve these goals automatically, without much need for government intervention.
Is this wild-eyed dreaming? Possibly, but no more so than universal suffrage or social insurance once were. Common wealth dividends could be the next step in America's long march toward equal rights--and the game-changer that leads to a new version of capitalism. But first, we have to see the opportunity and demand it.
"The children wept, as no parents were there to share the moment—their parents had been killed by the Israeli army," said one observer.
More than 1,000 Palestinian children orphaned by Israel's genocidal assault on Gaza took part in a bittersweet graduation ceremony Monday at a special school in the south of the embattled enclave as Israeli forces continued their US-backed campaign of annihilation and ethnic cleansing nearby.
Dressed in caps and gowns and waving Palestinian flags, graduates of the school at al-Wafa Orphan Village in Khan Younis—opened earlier this year by speech pathologist Wafaa Abu Jalala—received diplomas as students and staff proudly looked on. It was a remarkable event given the tremendous suffering of Palestinians in Gaza, especially the children, and Israel's obliteration of the strip's educational infrastructure, often referred to as scholasticide.
Organizers said the event was the largest of its kind since Israel began leveling Gaza after the Hamas-led attack of October 7, 2023. Israel's assault and siege, which are the subject of an International Court of Justice genocide case, have left more than 62,000 Palestinians dead, including over 18,500 children—official death tolls that are likely to be a severe undercount.
The Palestinian Central Bureau of Statistics reported in April that nearly 40,000 children in Gaza have lost one or both of their parents to Israeli bombs and bullets in what the agency called the world's "largest orphan crisis" in modern history. Other independent groups say the number of orphans is even higher during a war in which medical professionals have coined a grim new acronym: WCNSF—wounded child, no surviving family.
Hundreds of thousands of other Palestinians are starving in what Amnesty International on Monday called a "deliberate campaign." Thousands of Gazan children are treated for malnutrition each month, and at least 122 have starved to death, according to local officials.
Early in the war, the United Nations Children's Fund (UNICEF) called Gaza "the world's most dangerous place to be a child." Last year, United Nations Secretary-General António Guterres for the first time added Israel to his so-called "List of Shame" of countries that kill and injure children during wars and other armed conflicts. Doctors and others including volunteers from the United States have documented many cases in which they've concluded Israeli snipers and other troops have deliberately shot children in the head and chest.
Palestinian children take part in a graduation ceremony at al-Wafa Orphan Village in Khan Younis, Gaza on August 18, 2025. (Photo: Abdallah Alattar/Anadolu via Getty Images)
There are also more child amputees in Gaza than anywhere else in the world, with UN agencies estimating earlier this year that 3,000-4,000 Palestinian children have had one or more limbs removed, sometimes without anesthesia. The administration of US President Donald Trump—which provides Israel with many of the weapons used to kill and maim Palestinian children—recently stopped issuing visas to amputees and other victims seeking medical treatment in the United States.
All of the above have wrought what one Gaza mother called the "complete psychological destruction" of children in the embattled enclave.
Indeed, a 2024 survey of more than 500 Palestinian children in Gaza revealed that 96% of them fear imminent death, 92% are not accepting of reality, 79% suffer from nightmares, 77% avoid discussing traumatic events, 73% display signs of aggression, 49% wish to die because of the war, and many more "show signs of withdrawal and severe anxiety, alongside a pervasive sense of hopelessness."
Iain Overton, executive director of the UK-based group Action on Armed Violence, said at the time of the survey's publication that "the world's failure to protect Gaza's children is a moral failing on a monumental scale."
"No state should be above the law," said Younis Alkhatib of the Palestine Red Crescent Society. "The international community is obliged to protect humanitarians and to stop impunity."
The United Nations humanitarian affairs office said Tuesday that the new record of 383 aid workers killed last year while performing their lifesaving jobs was "shocking"—but considering Israel's relentless attacks on civilians, medical staff, journalists, and relief workers in Gaza, it was no surprise that the bombardment of the enclave was a major driver of the rise in aid worker deaths in 2024.
Nearly half of the aid workers killed last year—181 of them—were killed in Israeli attacks in Gaza, while 60 died in Sudan amid the civil war there.
The United Nations Office for the Coordination of Humanitarian Affairs (OCHA) recorded a 31% increase in aid worker killings compared to 2023, the agency said as it marked World Humanitarian Day.
"Even one attack against a humanitarian colleague is an attack on all of us and on the people we serve," said Tom Fletcher, the UN under-secretary-general for humanitarian affairs. "Attacks on this scale, with zero accountability, are a shameful indictment of international inaction and apathy."
Israel and its top allies, including the United States, have persisted in claiming it is targeting Hamas in its attacks on Gaza, which have killed more than 62,000 people—likely a significant undercount by the Gaza Health Ministry. It has also repeatedly claimed that its attacks on aid workers and other people protected under international law were "accidental."
"Every attack is a grave betrayal of humanity, and the rules designed to protect them and the communities they serve. Each killing sends a dangerous message that their lives were expendable. They were not."
"As the humanitarian community, we demand—again—that those with power and influence act for humanity, protect civilians and aid workers, and hold perpetrators to account," said Fletcher.
The UN Security Council adopted a resolution in May 2024 reaffirming that humanitarian staff must be protected in conflict zones—a month after the Israel Defense Forces struck a convoy including seven workers from the US-based charity World Central Kitchen, killing all of them.
More than a year later, said OCHA, "the lack of accountability remains pervasive."
The UN-backed Aid Worker Security Database's provisional numbers for 2025 so far show that at least 265 aid workers have been killed this year, with one of the deadliest attacks perpetrated by the IDF against medics and emergency responders in clearly marked vehicles in Gaza. Eight of the workers were with the Palestine Red Crescent Society, which on Tuesday noted that "Palestinian humanitarian workers have been deliberately targeted more than anywhere else."
"No state should be above the law," said Younis Alkhatib, president of the humanitarian group. "The international community is obliged to protect humanitarians and to stop impunity."
UN Secretary-General António Guterres said Tuesday that humanitarian workers around the world "are the last lifeline for over 300 million people" living in conflict and disaster zones.
What is missing as advocates demand protection for aid workers and as "red lines are crossed with impunity," said Guterres, is "political will—and moral courage."
"Humanitarians must be respected and protected," he said. "They can never be targeted."
Olga Cherevko of OCHA emphasized that despite Israel's continued bombardment of Gaza's healthcare systemsystem and its attacks at aid hubs, humanitarian workers continue their efforts to save lives "day in and day out."
"I think as a humanitarian, I feel powerless sometimes in Gaza because I know what it is that we can do as humanitarians when we're enabled to do so, both here in Gaza and in any other humanitarian crisis," said Cherevko. "We continue to face massive impediments for delivering aid at scale, when our missions are delayed, when our missions lasted 12, 14, 18 hours; the routes that we're given are dangerous, impassible, or inaccessible."
Israel has blocked the United Nations and other established aid agencies that have worked for years in the occupied Palestinian territories from delivering lifesaving aid in recent months, pushing the entire enclave towards famine.
The International Committee of the Red Cross (ICRC) added in a statement that "our colleagues continue to show up not because they are fearless, but because the suffering is too urgent to ignore. Yet, courage is not protection, and dedication does not deflect bullets."
"The rules of war are clear: Humanitarian personnel must be respected and protected," said the ICRC. "Every attack is a grave betrayal of humanity, and the rules designed to protect them and the communities they serve. Each killing sends a dangerous message that their lives were expendable. They were not."
Along with the aid workers who were killed worldwide last year, 308 were injured, 125 were kidnapped, and 45 were detained for their work.
"Violence against aid workers is not inevitable," said Fletcher. "It must end."
"Equipment manufacturers like John Deere have lost millions, but let's remember that working people are hit hardest by the president's disastrous economic policies," said one lawmaker.
US President Donald Trump has pitched his tariffs on foreign goods as a way to bring more manufacturing jobs back into the United States.
However, it now appears as though the tariffs are hurting the manufacturing jobs that are already here.
As reported by Des Moines Register, iconic American machinery company John Deere announced on Monday that it is laying off 71 workers in Waterloo, Iowa, as well as 115 people in East Moline, Illinois, and 52 workers in Moline, Illinois. The paper noted that John Deere has laid off more than 2,000 employees since April 2024.
In its announcement of the layoffs, the company said that "the struggling [agriculture] economy continues to impact orders" for its equipment.
"This is a challenging time for many farmers, growers, and producers, and directly impacts our business in the near term," the company emphasized.
According to The New Republic, Cory Reed, president of John Deere's Worldwide Agriculture and Turf Division, said during the company's most recent earnings call that the uncertainty surrounding Trump's tariffs has led to many farmers putting off investments in farm equipment.
"If you have customers that are concerned about what their end markets are going to look like in a tariff environment, they're waiting to see the outcomes of what these trade deals look like," he explained.
Josh Beal, John Deere's director of investor relations, similarly said that "the primary drivers" for the company's negative outlook from the prior quarter "are increased tariff rates on Europe, India, and steel and aluminum."
The news of the layoffs drew a scathing rebuke from Nathan Sage, an Iowa Democrat running for the US Senate to unseat Sen. Joni Ernst (R-Iowa), who has praised the president's tariff policies.
"John Deere is once again laying off Iowans—a clear sign economic uncertainty hits the working class hardest, not the CEOs at the top," he wrote in a post on X. "Cheered on by Joni Ernst, Republicans in Washington want to play games with tariffs and give tax cuts to billionaires while Iowa families continue to struggle. It's time to stop protecting the top 1% and fight for the working people who keep our economy strong."
Rep. Jim McGovern (D-Mass.) also ripped Trump's trade policies for hurting blue-collar jobs.
"Because of Trump's tariffs, farmers can't afford to buy what they need to make a living," he said. "Equipment manufacturers like John Deere have lost millions, but let's remember that working people are hit hardest by the president's disastrous economic policies. Tired of 'winning' yet?"
John Deere is not the only big-name American manufacturer to be harmed by the Trump tariffs, as all three of the country's major auto manufacturers in recent months have announced they expect to take significant financial hits from them.
Ford last month said that its profit could plunge by up to 36% this year as it expects to take a $2 billion hit from the president's tariffs on key inputs such as steel and aluminum, as well as taxes on car components manufactured in Canada and Mexico.
General Motors last month also cited the Trump tariffs as a major reason why its profits fell by $3 billion the previous quarter. Making matters worse, GM said that the impact of the tariffs would be even more significant in the coming quarter when its profits could tumble by as much as $5 billion.
GM's warning came shortly after Jeep manufacturer Stellantis projected that the Trump tariffs would directly lead to $350 million in losses in the first half of 2025.