Skip to content
Search

Latest Stories

Top Stories

Missouri's voter ID law challenged as unfair, defended as badly written

Missouri voters

Voters in Missouri who do not have a photo ID may show another forum of identification, such as a utility bill, as long as they sign an affidavit.

Scott Olson/Getty Images

Is a central piece of the Missouri voter identification law in line with the state's constitution? The Missouri Supreme Court is on course to deciding.

The provision at issue permits those who arrive at the polls without a photo ID to substitute another form of identification, like a utility bill, and then sign an affidavit saying they are who they purport to be — under penalty of perjury.

The justices heard arguments last week on a challenge brought by Priorities USA, a Democratic-aligned voting rights group, which says the language on the affidavit is so vague and confusing that it results in a form of unconstitutional voter suppression. A lower court agreed.


The affidavit reads, "'I do not possess a form of personal identification approved for voting.' Well, what [does] possess mean in that sentence?" Marc Elias, representing Priorities USA, asked at the oral arguments, according to St. Louis Public Radio. "Does that mean I have an ID, but I forgot it at home? At which point, I possess the ID and I can't sign the affidavit, or does it mean I don't have an ID at all?"

The state says the affidavit has not had any effect on turnout but might have been written better.

"There is no individual voter who, while they were at the polls, read the affidavit and said, 'I can't sign this, I find it too confusing. I find it too contradictory,'" argued John Sauer of the Missouri Attorney General's Office, who nonetheless offered to redraft the language to make it more straightforward.

Read More

A stethoscope, calculator, pills, and cash.

America’s healthcare debate misses the real crisis: soaring care costs. Discover how inattentional blindness hides the $5.6T gorilla reshaping policy, work, and rural communities.

Getty Images, athima tongloom

America’s $5.6 Trillion Healthcare Gorilla: Why We’re Blind to the Real Crisis

In the late 1990s, two Harvard psychologists ran a now-famous experiment. In it, students watched a short video of six people passing basketballs. They were told to count the number of passes made by the three players in white shirts.

Halfway through the film, a person in a gorilla suit walks into the frame, beats its chest, and exits. Amazingly, half of viewers — both then and in later versions of the study — never notice the gorilla. They’re so focused on counting passes that they miss the obvious event happening right in front of them.

Keep ReadingShow less
A stethoscope, calculator, pills, and cash.

America’s healthcare debate misses the real crisis: soaring care costs. Discover how inattentional blindness hides the $5.6T gorilla reshaping policy, work, and rural communities.

Getty Images, athima tongloom

America’s $5.6 Trillion Healthcare Gorilla: Why We’re Blind to the Real Crisis

In the late 1990s, two Harvard psychologists ran a now-famous experiment. In it, students watched a short video of six people passing basketballs. They were told to count the number of passes made by the three players in white shirts.

Halfway through the film, a person in a gorilla suit walks into the frame, beats its chest, and exits. Amazingly, half of viewers — both then and in later versions of the study — never notice the gorilla. They’re so focused on counting passes that they miss the obvious event happening right in front of them.

Keep ReadingShow less
Rethinking the Church’s Calling in a Time of Crisis
person's hand
Photo by Billy Pasco on Unsplash

Rethinking the Church’s Calling in a Time of Crisis

There is a significant distinction between charity and justice. Charity responds to visible wounds in the community and rushes to bandage them as necessary. Justice, rooted in biblical conviction and prophetic courage, goes further. It questions the sources of suffering: Why are people bleeding in the first place? This tension between crisis response and deeper transformation is at the core of a courageous step recently taken by Atlanta's New Birth Missionary Baptist Church.

As the nation grapples with democratic strain and institutional fatigue, New Birth's decision to suspend the collection of tithes and offerings during a government shutdown and amid the threatened rollback of social supports is a daring example of moral clarity. It is more than an act of relief; it is a refusal to proceed with business as usual when the most economically vulnerable are again being asked to bear the highest costs. The pause is not merely financial; I believe it is prophetic. An assertion that the church's highest duty is to its people, not its ledger.

Keep ReadingShow less