More Than A Magazine, A Movement
Climate change is a global issue we have to address together, both through adaption and prevention. Governments have been slow to respond to the crisis, but climate advocates have continued to push for instrumental change across nations. The affects of climate change are far-reaching—on the global food supply, sea levels, weather pattens and spread of disease—and already disproportionately impact women and poorer nations.
The U.S. ranks as the 31st most dangerous country for women, 55th in maternal mortality, 43rd in closing the gender pay gap, 85th in women’s political representation, and painfully lacks paid family leave and equal access to healthcare. But Ms. has always understood: Feminist movements around the world hold answers to some of the U.S.’ most intractable problems. Ms. Global is taking note of feminists worldwide.
This week: news from Bangladesh, Colombia, the U.K. and more.
As salient as extreme heat and wildfires have been this summer, an important dimension has been mostly absent from discussions of it: gender.
Climate change impacts are not gender-neutral. Heat affects different populations in different ways. Climate vulnerability depends on intersecting factors like age, income, occupation, disability, race, but also gender, which is often overlooked.
Protecting women, especially those with multiple factors of vulnerability, must be central to climate action, not peripheral.
Imagine being nine months pregnant with no clinic to give birth in and no skilled birth attendant anywhere within reach. This was the reality for 73,000 women who were weeks away from their due date in my native province of Sindh, Pakistan, when catastrophic floods submerged the region in 2022. At that moment, there were a total of 650,000 pregnant women living in the disaster zone. Those women were not a statistic to me; they were my community members. What happened to them is what happens to women everywhere when climate disasters strike, and most countries are not prepared for it.
Decades of working in women’s health and human rights have made one thing clear: Climate change is not gender neutral. Climate change accelerates violence against women. It accelerates poverty that disproportionately affects women and young people. And it puts women and girls at profound reproductive health risk, especially in communities where rights and resources are already fragile. Treating this as a footnote is not just a moral failure; it is a strategic one.
Policymakers and governments must ensure disaster response plans treat gender-based violence as a public health emergency. They need to ensure climate adaptation plans protect girls’ access to education, because when schools close after a disaster, it is the girls who don’t return. They need to ensure that when climate disasters strike, access to contraception and reproductive healthcare does not disappear overnight. And they need to make sure that when they talk about climate resilience, they are prioritizing the health and safety of women and girls.
The climate movement has fought hard and made strides. But a movement that does not center the people bearing the heaviest burden is an incomplete one. Climate leaders, negotiators and policymakers must do more than acknowledge that women are disproportionately affected; they must build solutions into every plan, every policy and every dollar spent. The infrastructure and the expertise exist. What is missing is the political will, and the funding, to match the scale of the crisis.
Soccer is one of the most beloved sports in the world, and the 2026 FIFA World Cup—the largest in the tournament’s history—has drawn millions of fans across the globe. This year, for the first time, the event is being jointly hosted by the United States, Canada and Mexico, with matches and related events taking place across North America.
FIFA stands to earn billions of dollars from the tournament.
But as the organization reaps record revenues, many host communities are bearing significant costs. Soaring ticket prices, displacement, labor concerns and aggressive immigration enforcement have raised questions about who truly benefits from the World Cup. For many working-class residents—and even lifelong soccer fans—the tournament is out of reach.
To better understand those impacts, I spoke with Jennifer Li, co-director of the Center for Community Health Innovation at the O’Neill Institute and director of Dignity 2026, a coalition of labor and human rights organizations working to protect communities most at risk during the World Cup.
Soccer “is very much an immigrant sport, let’s face it,” said Li, “and by extension, a sport for people of color, diverse communities. It is a sport that’s not expensive to play, but very expensive to watch, apparently. So, the question then becomes: Who is this for?”
It was a balmy August morning in Lancashire, a county in North West England known for its sweeping landscapes and greenery. But back in 2014, their idyllic community was facing an outside threat: Cuadrilla, an oil and gas giant and the only company in the United Kingdom with a license to frack, was about to commence shale gas exploration. If the hydraulic fracturing, or fracking, went ahead, then the site beneath the nanas’ feet would soon become an industrial wasteland—and the county’s residents would be forced to live with the consequences, unless someone was able to stop it.
The nanas clambered over fences, quickly putting up signs and wrangling tent poles. By 6 a.m., the first tent was up. The women sat on the ground, drinking tea and watching the sun rise above the field that would be their home for the next three weeks. Technically, they weren’t all grandmothers, but before long, this group of anti-fracking activists from Lancashire would be known as the Nanas, both at home and abroad. They’d regularly stage demonstrations, roadside tea parties, and eventually, even a protest outside Buckingham Palace.
And they wouldn’t be alone: In other communities being torn apart by fracking, older people around the world have also been taking the fight into their own hands, spending their golden years in protest. But what makes someone dedicate their later life to activism? To give up the dream of pottering around the garden, pushing grandchildren on swings and enjoying long vacations and their long-awaited retirement?
As it turns out, many of them felt they didn’t have a choice.
In the weeks since the U.S. and Israel launched an attack on Iran, the conflict has not only generated massive humanitarian need—it has fractured the global aid system itself.
The renewed U.S. blockade of Iranian ports in the Strait of Hormuz marks a shift from fragile reopening to active restriction, choking already limited shipping routes and delaying the delivery of food, medicine and fuel.
Even before the blockade, many vessels avoided the strait amid fears of mines and retaliation; now, with access further constrained, the consequences are immediate and far-reaching.
As these disruptions compound, it is women and girls who continue to bear the heaviest burden when humanitarian systems break down.
The closure and continued instability of the Strait of Hormuz have sent shockwaves through global supply chains, driving up oil prices, inflating food costs and straining already underfunded aid operations. These economic shocks reverberate far beyond the region, deepening poverty and food insecurity in places where women already face structural disadvantage.
From rising fertilizer costs that threaten crop yields to surging prices for staple goods, the impacts land hardest on women—who are more likely to live in poverty, eat last in times of scarcity, and rely on fragile aid systems for survival.
As the war’s effects ripple outward, they do not simply linger; they intensify. Environmental damage, displacement and collapsing infrastructure are compounding crises that further erode access to clean water, healthcare and safety. For women and girls, these overlapping shocks mean increased exposure to violence, exploitation and long-term instability.
Without urgent efforts to secure humanitarian access and center the needs of women in response strategies, the consequences of this conflict will continue to deepen inequalities and entrench suffering well beyond the battlefield.
The United States set a new precedent at the United Nations annual women’s rights meeting by requesting a recorded vote on the draft conclusions. The U.S. action culminated after weekslong negotiations on this year’s theme, “Ensuring and Strengthening Access to Justice for All Women and Girls.”
The move—which failed drastically—reflects the continuing assault of the Trump administration on gender equality worldwide, yet resistance from across the world couldn’t be more profound.
Since Trump’s re-ascendance to the White House, the reactionary conservative movement has become the most aggressive and unfettered it has been in my lifetime. And they are getting very, very clear on what they think an acceptable life looks like for women:
—Settle for any man who decides he wants you.
—Don’t go to college.
—Marry early.
—Have as many babies as possible.
—Quit your job (or don’t pursue one in the first place) to stay home full time and depend financially on your husband.
—Shoulder the blame if you wind up married to a jerk.
—Wind up impoverished if you divorce.
—Face social condemnation if you fail to follow the tradwife script.
—Contraception should be illegal or at least hard to get; same for IVF and other fertility treatments.
This isn’t hyperbole. It’s a plan they wrote down and published: Last month, the Heritage Foundation published “Saving America by Saving the Family: A Foundation for the Next 250 Years.” Think of it as Project 2275, a detailed plan that is mostly about how America can spend the next two and a half centuries undoing the feminist progress we’ve made.
The U.S. ranks as the 19th most dangerous country for women, 11th in maternal mortality, 30th in closing the gender pay gap, 75th in women’s political representation, and painfully lacks paid family leave and equal access to health care. But Ms. has always understood: Feminist movements around the world hold answers to some of the U.S.’s most intractable problems. Ms. Global is taking note of feminists worldwide.
This week: News from Nigeria, Afghanistan, Japan and more.
Many of the military officers who sat through Pete Hegseth’s and Donald Trump’s speeches about not tolerating “fat generals” and the need for “male standards” of physical fitness, are men who have not only served with highly capable, talented and accomplished women; many of them have mentored and promoted them as well. They know how vital and indispensable women are to functioning militaries in the modern era.
Secretary Hegseth’s speech was more than an announcement of new Pentagon priorities. It was, in many ways, a performative declaration of what is a much wider right-wing culture war against feminism.