Latest news with #FuturePerfect
Vox
2 days ago
- Science
- Vox
These stories could change how you feel about AI
is an editorial director at Vox overseeing the climate, tech, and world teams, and is the editor of Vox's Future Perfect section. He worked at Time magazine for 15 years as a foreign correspondent in Asia, a climate writer, and an international editor, and he wrote a book on existential risk. Here's a selection of recent headlines about artificial intelligence, picked more or less at random: Okay, not exactly at random — I did look for more doomy-sounding headlines. But they weren't hard to find. That's because numerous studies indicate that negative or fear-framed coverage of AI in mainstream media tends to outnumber positive framings. But as in so many other areas, the emphasis on the negative in artificial intelligence risks overshadowing what could go right — both in the future as this technology continues to develop and right now. As a corrective (and maybe just to ingratiate myself to our potential future robot overlords), here's a roundup of one way in which AI is already making a positive difference in three important fields. Science Whenever anyone asks me about an unquestionably good use of AI, I point to one thing: AlphaFold. After all, how many other AI models have won their creators an actual Nobel Prize? AlphaFold, which was developed by the Google-owned AI company DeepMind, is an AI model that predicts the 3D structures of proteins based solely on their amino acid sequences. That's important because scientists need to predict the shape of protein to better understand how it might function and how it might be used in products like drugs. That's known as the 'protein-folding problem' — and it was a problem because while human researchers could eventually figure out the structure of a protein, it would often take them years of laborious work in the lab to do so. AlphaFold, through machine-learning methods I couldn't explain to you if I tried, can make predictions in as little as five seconds, with accuracy that is almost as good as gold-standard experimental methods. By speeding up a basic part of biomedical research, AlphaFold has already managed to meaningfully accelerate drug development in everything from Huntington's disease to antibiotic resistance. And Google DeepMind's decision last year to open source AlphaFold3, its most advanced model, for non-commercial academic use has greatly expanded the number of researchers who can take advantage of it. Medicine You wouldn't know it from watching medical dramas like The Pitt, but doctors spend a lot of time doing paperwork — two hours of it for every one hour they actually spend with a patient, by one count. Finding a way to cut down that time could free up doctors to do actual medicine and help stem the problem of burnout. That's where AI is already making a difference. As the Wall Street Journal reported this week, health care systems across the country are employing 'AI scribes' — systems that automatically capture doctor-patient discussions, update medical records, and generally automate as much as possible around the documentation of a medical interaction. In one pilot study employing AI scribes from Microsoft and a startup called Abridge, doctors cut back daily documentation time from 90 minutes to under 30 minutes. Not only do ambient-listening AI products free doctors from much of the need to make manual notes, but they can eventually connect new data from a doctor-patient interaction with existing medical records and ensure connections and insights on care don't fall between the cracks. 'I see it being able to provide insights about the patient that the human mind just can't do in a reasonable time,' Dr. Lance Owens, regional chief medical information officer at University of Michigan Health, told the Journal. Climate A timely warning about a natural disaster can mean the difference between life and death, especially in already vulnerable poor countries. That is why Google Flood Hub is so important. An open-access, AI-driven river-flood early warning system, Flood Hub provides seven-day flood forecasts for 700 million people in 100 countries. It works by marrying a global hydrology model that can forecast river levels even in basins that lack physical flood gauges with an inundation model that converts those predicted levels into high-resolution flood maps. This allows villagers to see exactly what roads or fields might end up underwater. Flood Hub, to my mind, is one of the clearest examples of how AI can be used for good for those who need it most. Though many rich countries like the US are included in Flood Hub, they mostly already have infrastructure in place to forecast the effects of extreme weather. (Unless, of course, we cut it all from the budget.) But many poor countries lack those capabilities. AI's ability to drastically reduce the labor and cost of such forecasts has made it possible to extend those lifesaving capabilities to those who need it most. One more cool thing: The NGO GiveDirectly — which provides direct cash payments to the global poor — has experimented with using Flood Hub warnings to send families hundreds of dollars in cash aid days before an expected flood to help themselves prepare for the worst. As the threat of extreme weather grows, thanks to climate change and population movement, this is the kind of cutting-edge philanthropy. AI for good Even what seems to be the best applications for AI can come with their drawbacks. The same kind of AI technology that allows AlphaFold to help speed drug development could conceivably be used one day to more rapidly design bioweapons. AI scribes in medicine raise questions about patient confidentiality and the risk of hacking. And while it's hard to find fault in an AI system that can help warn poor people about natural disasters, the lack of access to the internet in the poorest countries can limit the value of those warnings — and there's not much AI can do to change that. But with the headlines around AI leaning so apocalyptic, it's easy to overlook the tangible benefits AI already delivers. Ultimately AI is a tool. A powerful tool, but a tool nonetheless. And like any tool, what it will do — bad and good — will be determined by how we use it.
Vox
3 days ago
- Business
- Vox
Harvard just fired a tenured professor for the first time in 80 years. Good.
is a senior writer at Future Perfect, Vox's effective altruism-inspired section on the world's biggest challenges. She explores wide-ranging topics like climate change, artificial intelligence, vaccine development, and factory farms, and also writes the Future Perfect newsletter. The Harvard University crest on the Baker Library of the Harvard Business School in Boston on May 27. Sophie Park/Bloomberg via Getty Images In the summer of 2023, I wrote about a shocking scandal at Harvard Business School: Star professor Francesca Gino had been accused of falsifying data in four of her published papers, with whispers there was falsification in others, too. A series of posts on Data Colada, a blog that focuses on research integrity, documented Gino's apparent brazen data manipulation, which involved clearly changing study data to better support her hypotheses. Future Perfect Explore the big, complicated problems the world faces and the most efficient ways to solve them. Sent twice a week. Email (required) Sign Up By submitting your email, you agree to our Terms and Privacy Notice . This site is protected by reCAPTCHA and the Google Privacy Policy and Terms of Service apply. This was a major accusation against a researcher at the top of her field, but Gino's denials were unconvincing. She didn't have a good explanation for what had gone wrong, asserting that maybe a research assistant had done it, even though she was the only author listed across all four of the falsified studies. Harvard put her on unpaid administrative leave and barred her from campus. The cherry on top? Gino's main academic area of study was honesty in business. As I wrote at the time, my read of the evidence was that Gino had most likely committed fraud. That impression was only reinforced by her subsequent lawsuit against Harvard and the Data Colada authors. Gino complained that she'd been defamed and that Harvard hadn't followed the right investigation process, but she didn't offer any convincing explanation of how she'd ended up putting her name to paper after paper with fake data. This week, almost two years after the news first broke, the process has reached its resolution: Gino was stripped of tenure, the first time Harvard has essentially fired a tenured professor in at least 80 years. (Her defamation lawsuit against the bloggers who found the data manipulation was dismissed last year.) What we do right and wrong when it comes to scientific fraud Harvard is in the news right now for its war with the Trump administration, which has sent a series of escalating demands to the university, canceled billions of dollars in federal grants and contracts, and is now blocking the university from enrolling international students, all in an apparent attempt to force the university to conform to MAGA's ideological demands. Stripping a celebrity professor of tenure might not seem like the best look at a moment when Harvard is in an existential struggle for its right to exist as an independent academic institution. But the Gino situation, which long predates the conflict with Trump, shouldn't be interpreted solely through the lens of that fight. Scientific fraud is a real problem, one that is chillingly common across academia. But far from putting the university in a bad light, Harvard's handling of the Gino case has actually been unusually good, even though it still underscores just how much further academia has to go to ensure scientific fraud becomes rare and is reliably caught and punished. There are two parts to fraud response: catching it and punishing it. Academia clearly isn't very good at the first part. The peer-review process that all meaningful research undergoes tends to start from the default assumption that data in a reviewed paper is real, and instead focuses on whether the paper represents a meaningful advance and is correctly positioned with respect to other research. Almost no reviewer is going back to check to see if what is described in a paper actually happened. Fraud, therefore, is often caught only when other researchers actively try to replicate a result or take a close look at the data. Science watchdogs who find these fraud cases tell me that we need a strong expectation that data be made public — which makes it much harder to fake — as well as a scientific culture that embraces replications. (Given the premiums journals put on novelty in research and the supreme importance of publishing for academic careers, there's been little motivation for scientists to pursue replication.). It is these watchdogs, not anyone at Harvard or in the peer-review process, who caught the discrepancies that ultimately sunk Gino. Crime and no punishment Even when fraud is caught, academia too often fails to properly punish it. When third-party investigators bring a concern to the attention of a university, it's been unusual for the responsible party to actually face consequences. One of Gino's co-authors on one of the retracted papers was Dan Ariely, a star professor of psychology and behavioral economics at Duke University. He, too, has been credibly accused of falsifying data: For example, he published one study that he claimed took place at UCLA with the assistance of researcher Aimee Drolet Rossi. But UCLA says the study didn't happen there, and Rossi says she did not participate in it. In a past case, he claimed on a podcast to have gotten data from the insurance company Delta Dental, which the company says it did not collect. In another case, an investigation by Duke reportedly found that data from a paper he co-authored with Gino had been falsified, but that there was no evidence Ariely had used fake data knowingly. Frankly, I don't buy this. Maybe an unlucky professor might once end up using data that was faked without their knowledge. But if it happens again, I'm not willing to credit bad luck, and at some point, a professor who keeps 'accidentally' using falsified or nonexistent data should be out of a job even if we can't prove it was no accident. But Ariely, who has maintained his innocence, is still at Duke. Or take Olivier Voinnet, a plant biologist who had multiple papers conclusively demonstrated to contain image manipulation. He was found guilty of misconduct and suspended for two years. It's hard to imagine a higher scientific sin than faking and manipulating data. If you can't lose your job for that, the message to young scientists is inevitably that fraud isn't really that serious. What it means to take fraud seriously Gino's loss of tenure, which is one of a few recent cases where misconduct has had major career consequences, might be a sign that the tides are changing. In 2023, around when the Gino scandal broke, Stanford's then-president Marc Tessier-Lavigne stepped down after 12 papers he authored were found to contain manipulated data. A few weeks ago, MIT announced a data falsification scandal with a terse announcement that the university no longer had confidence in a widely distributed paper 'by a former second-year PhD student.' It's reasonable to assume the student was expelled from the program. I hope that these high-profile cases are a sign we are moving in the right direction on scientific fraud because its persistence is enormously damaging to science. Other researchers waste time and energy following false lines of research substantiated by fake data; in medicine, falsification can outright kill people. But even more than that, research fraud damages the reputation of science at exactly the moment when it is most under attack. We should tighten standards to make fraud much harder to commit in the first place, and when it is identified, the consequences should be immediate and serious. Let's hope Harvard sets a trend.
Vox
5 days ago
- Business
- Vox
The US is squandering its two most important privileges
is an editorial director at Vox overseeing the climate, tech, and world teams, and is the editor of Vox's Future Perfect section. He worked at Time magazine for 15 years as a foreign correspondent in Asia, a climate writer, and an international editor, and he wrote a book on existential risk. In 1965, then-French finance minister Valéry Giscard d'Estaing came up with the mot juste for describing the way that the supremacy of the dollar provided the foundation for the financial supremacy of the US. The fact the dollar was so dominant in international transactions gave the US, d'Estaing said, an 'exorbitant privilege.' Because every country needed dollars to settle trade and backstop their own currencies, foreign countries had to buy up US debt, which in turn meant that the US paid less to borrow money and was able to run up trade and budget deficits without suffering the usual pain. The exorbitant privilege of the dollar was that the US would be able to live beyond its means. Future Perfect Explore the big, complicated problems the world faces and the most efficient ways to solve them. Sent twice a week. Email (required) Sign Up By submitting your email, you agree to our Terms and Privacy Notice . This site is protected by reCAPTCHA and the Google Privacy Policy and Terms of Service apply. It's always been an open question as to how long that privilege would last, but President Donald Trump's harsh tariff policies, paired with a budget bill that right now would add trillions to the budget deficit, might just be enough to finally dislodge the dollar. Annual federal deficits are already running at 6 percent of GDP, while interest rates on 10-year US Treasuries have more than doubled to around 4.5 percent over the past few years, increasing the cost of interest payments on the debt. As of the last quarter of 2024, 58 percent of global reserves were in dollars, down from 71 percent in the first quarter of 1999. The dollar may remain king, if only because there seems to be no real alternative, but thanks to the US's own actions, the exorbitance of its privilege is already eroding — and with it, America's ability to compensate for its fiscal fecklessness. Related Trump figured out how to hit Harvard where it really hurts But the dollar isn't the only privilege the US enjoys. Since the postwar era, America's best universities have led the world. Harvard, Princeton, the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, CalTech — these elite universities are the foundation of the American scientific supremacy that has in turn fueled decades of economic growth. But also, by virtue of their unparalleled ability to attract the best minds from around the world, these schools have given the US the educational privilege of being the magnet of global academic excellence. In the same way that the dollar's dominance has allowed the US to live beyond its means, the dominance of elite universities has compensated for the fact that the US has, at best, a mediocre K–12 educational system. And now that privilege is under attack by the Trump administration. Cutting off federal funding for universities like Columbia and Princeton and eviscerating agencies like the National Institutes of Health and the National Science Foundation were bad enough — but the administration's recent move to bar international students from Harvard would be a death blow, especially if it spread to other top schools. The ability to attract the best of the best, especially in the sciences, is what makes Harvard Harvard, which in turn has helped make the United States the United States. Just as losing the privilege of the dollar would force the US to finally pay for years of fiscal mismanagement, losing the privilege of these top universities would force the country to pay for decades of educational failure. American science runs on foreign talent As Vox contributor Kevin Carey wrote this week, foreign students are a major source of financial support for US colleges and universities, many of which would struggle to survive should those students disappear. But the financial picture actually understates just how much US science depends on foreign talent and, in turn, depends on top universities like Harvard to bring in top students and professors. An astounding 70 percent of grad students in the US in electrical engineering and 63 percent in computer science — probably the two disciplines most important to winning the future — are foreign-born. Nineteen percent of the overall STEM workforce in the US is foreign-born; focus just on the PhD-level workforce, and that number rises to 43 percent. Since 1901, just about half of all physics, chemistry, and medicine Nobel Prizes have gone to Americans, and about a third of those winners were foreign-born, a figure that has risen in recent decades. It's really not too much to suggest that if all foreign scientists and science students were deported tomorrow, US science would grind to a halt. Could American-born students step into that gap? Absolutely not. That's because as elite as America's top universities are, the country's K–12 education system has been anything but. Every three years, the Program for International Student Assessment (PISA) is given to a representative sample of 15-year-old students in over 80 countries. It's the best existing test for determining how a country's students compare in mathematics, reading, and science to their international peers. In the most recent PISA tests, taken in 2022, US students scored below the average for OECD or developed countries in math; on reading and science, they were just slightly above average. And while a lot of attention has been rightly paid to learning loss since the pandemic — one report from fall 2024 estimated that the average US student is less than halfway to a full academic recovery — American students have lagged behind their international peers since long before then. Other wealthy nations, from East Asian countries to some small European ones, regularly outpace American peers in math by the equivalent of one full academic year. To be clear, this picture isn't totally catastrophic. It's fine — American students perform around the middle compared to their international peers. But just fine won't make you the world's undisputed scientific leader. And fine is a long way from what the US once was. America was a pioneer in universal education, and it did the same in college education through the postwar GI Bill, which opened up college education to the masses. By 1950, 34 percent of US adults aged 25 or older had completed high school or more, compared to 14 percent in the UK and 11 percent in France. When NASA engineers were putting people on the moon in the 1960s, the US had perhaps the world's most educated workforce to draw from. Since then, much of the rest of the world has long since caught up with the US on educational attainment, and a number of countries have surpassed it. But thanks in large part to the privilege that is elite universities like Harvard or the University of California, and their ability to recruit the best, no country has caught up to the US in sheer scientific brainpower. Take away our foreign talent, however, and US science would look more like its K–12 performance — merely fine. Life after Harvard It seems increasingly apparent that the Trump administration wants to make an example of Harvard, proving its own dominance by breaking a 388-year-old institution with strong ties to American power and influence. On Tuesday, the New York Times reported that the administration planned to cancel all remaining federal contracts with Harvard, while Trump himself mused on redirecting Harvard's $3 billion in grants to trade schools. Grants and contracts are vital, but they can be restored, just as faith in the US dollar might be restored by a saner trade policy and a tighter budget. But if the Trump administration chooses to make the US fundamentally hostile to foreign students and scientific talent, there may be no coming back. Politico reported this week that the administration is weighing requiring all foreign students applying to study in the US to undergo social media vetting. With universities around the world now competing to make themselves alternatives to the US, what star student from Japan or South Korea or Finland would choose to put their future in the hands of the Trump administration, when they could go anywhere else they wanted? The US once achieved scientific leadership because it educated its own citizens better and longer than any other country. Those days are long past, but the US managed to keep its pole position, and all that came with it, because it supported and funded what were far and away the best universities in the world. That was our privilege, as much as the dollar was. And now we seem prepared to destroy both. Should that come to pass, we'll see just how little is left. A version of this story originally appeared in the Future Perfect newsletter. Sign up here!
Vox
5 days ago
- Politics
- Vox
The new pope has strong opinions about AI. Good.
is a senior reporter for Vox's Future Perfect and co-host of the Future Perfect podcast. She writes primarily about the future of consciousness, tracking advances in artificial intelligence and neuroscience and their staggering ethical implications. Before joining Vox, Sigal was the religion editor at the Atlantic. Just days after the new pope, Leo XIV, took up his position as head of the Catholic Church, he started talking about artificial intelligence. In his first speech to the press, he recognized that AI has 'immense potential' but emphasized that we need to 'ensure that it can be used for the good of all.' And in his first address to the cardinals, he explained that he actually chose the name Leo XIV because of AI. The name is a reference to a previous pope, Leo XIII, who held the position during the Industrial Revolution in the late 19th century. That former pontiff weighed in on how rising capitalism and the new technology of the day risked turning workers into commodities. The Catholic Church, he argued, should stand up for workers' rights and dignity. The new pope signaled that he thinks the church must once again step into that role. 'In our own day, the church offers everyone the treasury of its social teaching in response to another industrial revolution and to developments in the field of artificial intelligence that pose new challenges for the defense of human dignity, justice, and labor,' Leo XIV said. On the surface, AI and Catholicism might seem like a strange combination. Since when is Silicon Valley supposed to take marching orders from the Vatican? But when you take a look at Catholic history, you realize that AI is exactly the sort of thing the pope should have strong opinions on. The church's past suggests that technology is something for it to actively engage with — cheering it on where appropriate, criticizing where necessary, but never just disengaging. AI in particular is forcing big questions about the meaning of human life, and it's important to have spiritual thinkers weigh in on those instead of just letting technologists run the show. The Catholic Church was the Silicon Valley of the Middle Ages Nowadays, a lot of people think of the Catholic Church as technologically retrograde. It's known for its negative views on abortion and contraception. And well before that, during the Renaissance, it was known for persecuting forward-thinking scientists like Giordano Bruno and Galileo Galilei because they challenged church doctrines, like the idea that the Earth is at the center of the universe. But go back to the medieval period and you'll see that the Catholic Church and technological innovation once went hand in hand. That's because Christian thinkers in the Middle Ages developed a radical idea: technology, they theorized, could help us restore humanity to the perfection of Adam before his fall from grace. If part of what it meant for Adam to be formed in God's image was that he was a creator, a maker, then maybe the key to human redemption was to lean into that aspect of ourselves. Even in the midst of the so-called Dark Ages, this idea took off in monasteries, where the motto 'ora et labora' — prayer and work — circulated widely. Some of these monasteries became hotbeds of engineering, yielding inventions like the first known tidal-powered water wheel and impact-drilled well. Catholics also gave us everything from metallurgy and mills to the widescale adoption of clocks and the printing press. To this day, engineers have not one but four patron saints in Catholicism. 'Overall the Church has been very positive toward technology in the past,' Brian Green, a Catholic professor who focuses on technology ethics at Santa Clara University, told me in 2018. 'But as humans have become more powerful, the Church has felt like it has to say no to more things,' particularly technologies that it perceives as hindering human life, like birth control or nuclear weapons. How Pope Francis paved the way on AI The problem for the church is that opposing technological innovation risks making it seem more and more at odds with modern life. The late Pope Francis recognized that the church needs to engage with tech if it wants to stay relevant. To discuss how tech can be used for good, in 2016 he met up with Meta's Mark Zuckerberg, Apple's Tim Cook, and Eric Schmidt, then the executive chair of Alphabet, Google's parent company. He had the Vatican serve as a venue for a hackathon as well as a climate tech competition. And in an encyclical, or papal letter, called Laudato Si, he enthused about tech's potential to reshape humanity's future. But he also warned that AI development couldn't be a reckless free-for-all. He called for international regulation. At a Vatican event last year, he emphasized that AI should be used to 'satisfy the needs of humanity,' not 'enrich and increase the already high power of the few technological giants.' Francis also insisted that we shouldn't look to AI as if to a perfect, God-like decision-maker — that would be idolatry. Instead of outsourcing our agency to machines, Francis advocated for 'a renewed appreciation for all that is human.' The church, which valorizes divine revelation, hasn't always embraced humanism, the view that humans have the agency and abilities to figure out the truth and improve the world through their own reason. But Francis called on his followers to adopt a new Christian humanism — to assert their agency and decision-making abilities while still drawing on religious sources for pointers in the search for meaning. 'The Sacred Scripture,' Francis said, 'offers us the essential coordinates.' Why Catholicism — and other religions — should weigh in on AI Pope Francis, and the 19th-century Pope Leo XIII before him, were making a key point: The Catholic Church can and should express opinions on the big technological developments of the day, because they relate to moral and spiritual questions. The AI revolution is raising a lot of these pressing questions: How can we stop power from becoming concentrated in the hands of a few? How do we make sure the economic spoils are fairly distributed to everyone? Which kinds of labor and which choices should we outsource to AI, and which should we keep for ourselves because they're ennobling or essential to human agency? Should we allow AI to take over artistic creation? What is a human life for, anyway? These kinds of questions are the bread and butter of religion. So it's entirely appropriate for religious leaders to weigh in on them. Failing to do so would mean missing out on perhaps the biggest moral tipping point of the century. That's not to say religion has all the right answers. But, as Francis suggested, we can think of it as a compass. Over the millennia, it's had the chance to identify some of humanity's 'essential coordinates' — our fundamental psychological needs. And it's developed mechanisms to meet them. In 1891, Pope Leo XIII offered an example of this in Rerum Novarum, an encyclical laying out his views on the Industrial Revolution. He observed that people will sometimes consent to things that are actually terrible for them — for example, working seven days a week. So their interests need to be protected. That's why there's a religious obligation to observe a day of rest, the pope explained: We need to keep people from allowing themselves to become commodities. The new Pope Leo has a powerful opportunity to bring that argument into the 21st century.
Vox
24-05-2025
- Politics
- Vox
Something remarkable is happening with violent crime rates in the US
is an editorial director at Vox overseeing the climate, tech, and world teams, and is the editor of Vox's Future Perfect section. He worked at Time magazine for 15 years as a foreign correspondent in Asia, a climate writer, and an international editor, and he wrote a book on existential risk. The astounding drop in violent crime that began in the 1990s and extended through the mid-2010s is one of the most important — and most underappreciated — good news stories of recent memory. That made its reversal during the pandemic so worrying. In the first full year of the pandemic, the FBI tallied 22,134 murders nationwide, up from 16,669 in 2019 — an increase of roughly 34 percent, the sharpest one-year rise in modern crime record-keeping. In 2021, Philadelphia alone recorded a record 562 homicides, while Baltimore experienced a near-record 337 murders. Between 2019 and 2020, the average number of weekly emergency department visits for gunshots increased by 37 percent, and largely stayed high through the following year. By the 2024 election, for the first time in awhile, violent crime was a major political issue in the US. A Pew survey that year found that 58 percent of Americans believed crime should be a top priority for the president and Congress, up from 47 percent in 2021. And yet even as the presidential campaign was unfolding, the violent crime spike of the pandemic had already subsided — and crime rates have kept dropping. The FBI's 2023 crime report found that murder was down nearly 12 percent year over year, and in 2024 it kept falling to roughly 16,700 murders, on par with pre-pandemic levels. The early numbers for 2025 are so promising that Jeff Asher, one of the best independent analysts on crime, recently asked in a piece whether this year could have the lowest murder rate in US history. Related How US drug overdose deaths dropped by record numbers All of which raises two questions: What's driving a decrease in crime every bit as sharp as the pandemic-era increase? And why do so many of us find it so hard to believe? The crime wave crashes We shouldn't jump to conclusions about this year's crime rates based on the early data, especially since we're just now beginning the summer, when violent crime almost always rises. Crime data in the US is also patchy and slow — I can tell you how many soybeans the US raised in March, but I can't tell you how many people have been murdered in the US this year. Related The Supreme Court just got an important police violence case right But what we can tell looks very good. The Real-Time Crime Index, an academic project that collects crime data from more than 380 police agencies covering nearly 100 million people, estimates there were 1,488 murders in the US this year through March, compared to an estimated 1,899 over the same months last year. That's a decrease of nearly 22 percent. Violent crime overall is down by about 11 percent. Motor vehicle theft, which became an epidemic during the pandemic, is down by over 26 percent. Peer down to the local level, and the picture just keeps getting better. In Baltimore, which The Wire made synonymous with violent, drug-related crime, homicides fell to 199 last year, its best showing in over a decade. As of early May, the city had 45 murders, down another third from the same period last year. City emergency rooms that were once full of gunshot victims have gone quiet. How much lower could it go nationally? The record low homicide rate, at least since national records started being kept in 1960, is 4.45 per 100,000 in 2014. So far this year, according to Asher, murder is down in 25 of the 30 cities that reported the most murders in 2023. Asher argues that if the numbers hold, 'a 10 percent or more decline in murder nationally in 2025 would roughly tie 2014 for the lowest murder rate ever recorded.' What's behind the drop? In short: The pandemic led to a huge increase in violent crime, and as the pandemic waned, so did the wave. The closure of schools during the pandemic, especially in already higher-crime cities in the Northeast, meant far more young men — who are statistically more likely to be either perpetrators of violent crime or victims of it — on the streets. The closure of social services left fewer resources for them to draw on; and the sheer stress of a once-in-a-lifetime health catastrophe set everyone on edge. The murder of George Floyd in spring 2020 led to a collapse in community trust in policing, which in turn seemed to lead to less aggressive policing altogether. As the pandemic eased, though, those buffers came back, providing a natural brake on violent crime. But the government, from the national level down to cities, also took direct actions to stem the flood of violence. The White House under President Joe Biden poured hundreds of millions of dollars into community violence interruption programs, which aim to break the cycle of retribution that can lead to homicide. Baltimore's Group Violence Reduction Strategy has brought together community groups and law enforcement to deter the people considered most likely to get involved in gun violence. And the erosion in police forces nationwide that occurred during the pandemic has largely stopped. The situation is far from perfect. Even though Floyd's murder triggered a nationwide reckoning around police violence, recent data shows that police killings kept increasing, in part because fear of crime often stopped momentum around reforms. Here in New York, even as overall crime on the subways has fallen to historical lows, felony assaults on the trains have kept rising, fueling fears of lawlessness. Why can't we believe it? As Memorial Day weekend marks the start of summer, the next few months will tell whether the pandemic was truly just a blip in the long-term reduction in violent crime. But what we can say is most people don't seem to notice the positive trends. An October 2024 poll by Gallup found that 64 percent of Americans believed there was more crime nationwide than the year before, even though by that time in 2024, the post-pandemic crime drop was well under way. But such results aren't surprising. One of the most reliable results in polling is that if you ask Americans whether crime is rising, they'll say yes. Astonishingly, in 23 of 27 national surveys done by Gallup since 1993, Americans reported that they thought crime nationwide was rising — even though most of those surveys were done during the long crime decline. Crime is one of the best examples we have of bad news bias. By definition, a murder is an outlier event that grabs our attention, inevitably leading the nightly local news. Sometimes, as during the pandemic, that bias can match reality. But if we fail to adjust to what is actually happening around us — not just what we think is happening — it won't just make us think our cities are more dangerous than they really are. It'll sap energy for the reforms that can really make a difference. A version of this story originally appeared in the Good News newsletter. Sign up here!
