Landscape irrigation accounts for only about 9% of total statewide developed water use, but the percentage varies widely among communities.
Water applied to landscapes is estimated to account for about 50% of residential water consumption statewide, but the amount varies from about 30% in some coastal communities to 60% or more in many inland suburban communities.
The Centers for Disease Control and Prevention has issued guidelines for “community mitigation strategies” to limit the spread of COVID-19, the disease caused by the coronavirus, which include recommendations for “social distancing”—a term that epidemiologists are using to refer to a conscious effort to reduce close contact between people and hopefully stymie community transmission of the virus.
But what exactly does “social distancing” look like for a woman trying to go about her life while staying healthy and helping keep the people around her healthy?
Even detailed instructions are difficult to sift for actionable advice. If I have a fourth date tonight, do I go? If I’m invited to a wedding in two weeks in another state, is it too late to cancel? If we’re on lockdown, and I live alone, can I walk to my friend’s apartment when I feel sad? If I end up officially quarantined, can I walk around the park at night for some fresh air?
Two weeks since becoming the epicenter of America’s coronavirus outbreak, life in Seattle has stalled but not stopped.
Routines are forming. Each day brings a new, usually small, step away from normal. Wednesday saw big strides – the state’s largest school district, Seattle Public Schools, called off classes for at least 14 days, and gatherings of more than 250 people were banned – that overshadowed smaller retreats; two cruises headed to Alaska were canceled, and the city zoo shuttered.
Coronavirus has infected nearly every aspect of daily life. As Seattle Mayor Jenny Durkan put it Wednesday, the virus is proving to be “one of the most transformative events we’ve had in this region, and in this country.”
There will be no glad-handing, no bragging about the many thousands of people packing a room to see a candidate speak. Town halls are going virtual. And crisis management is no longer just a public relations specialty for disgraced corporate leaders or celebrities; it’s become a critical test over who has the temperament to lead a fearful and anxious nation.
This is the year of the Coronavirus Campaign, in which all the plans and strategies developed by political campaigns are being tossed off as candidates figure out how to address both the public health crisis and the financial fallout from it. Not only will presidential hopefuls need to convince Americans they are best to handle a still-worsening pandemic, but they’ll have to come up with ways to market those plans to voters.
Over the last few decades, family formation patterns have altered significantly in the U.S., with long-run rises in non-marital births, cohabitation, and single parenthood – although in recent years many of these trends have leveled out.
Importantly, there are increasing class gaps here. Marriage rates have diverged by education level (a good proxy for both social class and permanent income). People with at least a BA are now more likely to get married and stay married compared to those with lower educational attainment. Back in the 1960s, marriage and divorce rates among these groups were nearly identical.
As our colleague Isabel Sawhill has written, “family formation is a new fault line in the American class structure.”
But the breakdown in Saudi-Russian cooperation in oil markets over the weekend is strikingly different this time. That’s because the backdrop of the COVID-19 crisis could significantly influence outcomes.
That two major producers would differ on oil strategy has been a frequent occurrence in the geopolitics of oil. As I have chronicled in my book with Rice econometrician Mahmoud El-Gamal, petro-states have been struggling to manage the up and down cycle of oil prices for decades, with a host of negative outcomes including wars, terrorism, financial meltdowns, and social repression.
But the current conflict comes amid strikingly new circumstances. First and foremost, COVID-19 is rapidly destroying demand for oil. Secondly, the oil demand shock comes amid long run signals that some of the world’s oil reserves will need to remain unexploited.
The foreign-policy community is reluctant to relitigate the invasion of Iraq and its consequences. Perhaps it is too much for analysts and officials—former and current—to bear, but it is worth understanding how and why the trillions of dollars spent, lives lost, and untold number of injured were simply a waste.
Iraq is not a state in the sense that it has a monopoly over violence or can enforce property rights. The system of political and economic spoils set up after the 2003 invasion has led to rapacious thievery and corruption, robbing Iraq of its natural wealth and impoverishing its people.
As a result, Iraqis have lost faith in virtually every institution and have poured onto the streets across much of the country to demand a new political order.
U.S. Federal Reserve policymakers have already begun responding to the coronavirus with an emergency interest rate cut and a reopening of their crisis tool kit, all without a clear idea of what damage is being done outside of plummeting financial markets.
In addition to likely cutting rates further when they gather on Tuesday and Wednesday for their next scheduled meeting, they will have to offer their own best estimates of the outbreak’s economic fallout.
World stocks were set on Friday for their worst week since the 2008 financial crisis, with coronavirus panic-selling hitting nearly every asset class and investors fretting that central bank action may not be enough to soothe the pain.
European stock markets were slightly higher on Friday on hopes governments will step up spending, but only after several sessions of sustained, heavy losses as investors faced the possibility of a global recession that could be prolonged.