Environmental Economics

An update on the National Nature Assessment

Phil Levin in the NY Times on Earth Day (Trump Tried to Derail Our Work. We Banded Together and Moved Forward.): 

For over two years, nearly 200 other scientists and I had been working on the first full accounting of nature in America: an extensive report on its role in our health, economy and well-being. Now, with the revoking of a Biden executive order that called for the assessment, it was seemingly over. ...

... it hit me: I had to shake off the despair and get myself together. The project needed to continue. And so with encouragement from friends and mentors, my collaborators and I began reaching out — to potential partners, funders and publishers. ...

We created United by Nature, an initiative to provide evidence-based, nonpartisan insights into the changing state of nature across the country. The effort will include the first independent assessment, to be released in July 2026, of how nature in the United States is doing and how it supports our health, security, culture and economy.

And this part may have come from the Economy and Nature chapter: 

Nature is an economic backbone. In 2023 outdoor recreation alone made up more than 2.3 percent of U.S. G.D.P. — over $639 billion — and supported millions of jobs. Agriculture and the production of food are utterly dependent on healthy ecosystems and provide about 22 million jobs.

Here is some background: R.I.P. National Nature Assessment and Kinda like Lazurus of Bethany.

Yikes, has anyone out there used Op4G or Slice panel data during 2014 - 2024?

From the CEO of Dynata:

I am writing to you today in light of recent industry events. US-based survey company, Op4G / Slice MR, has been accused of providing fraudulent survey data to global companies, brands, universities, and healthcare systems.

This is a watershed moment for the market research industry. I am deeply frustrated that there are, and will continue to be, bad actors in our industry. I come to you today because as a market research professional, you simply cannot afford to second guess the quality of the data you are using--period.

Dynata stands alone in the pursuit of providing high-quality survey data and we have been for years. ...

From the DOJ (Eight Defendants Indicted in International Conspiracy to Bill $10 Million for Fraudulent Market Survey Data): 

According to the indictment, Op4G and Slice were market research companies based in the United States. Clients would hire the companies to conduct market research surveys. As part of their business model, Op4G and Slice maintained “panels” consisting of individuals potentially eligible to take surveys. In 2014, Hayden, Harriman, and Nappo, who were senior leaders at Op4G, decided to increase company revenues by generating fabricated survey data. To execute the scheme, some of the defendants recruited “ants”, who pretended to be legitimate survey takers but instead were paid a nominal fee for completing surveys that produced fraudulent market research data. Some of the defendants even served as “ants” and fraudulently took large quantities of surveys themselves and received significant payment for their “ant” work.

In or around 2018, Nappo, Hayden and others, decided that Op4G should move the fraudulent survey operation to a new company, which became Slice. ...

Companies that purchased survey data from Op4G or Slice between 2014-2024 are encouraged to contact the U.S. Attorney’s office at [email protected] with the subject line “Slice”.

Here is a Google Scholar search for Op4G: https://scholar.google.com/scholar?hl=en&as_sdt=0%2C34&q=op4g&btnG=. It looks like mostly health research. 

Note: I've been using Dynata since forever.

The Power of the Advisor/Advisee Relationship

I know I don't post much anymore, but I wanted to put this in writing somewhere. Every two weeks, in my role as Director of the School of Environment and Natural Resources at Ohio State, I write a reflection for our faculty newsletter titled (creatively) 'Thoughts from the Director'. This was my reflection this week (some of the facts/dates might be off as I am relying on memory):

---------------------

I’m going to ask your indulgence for what’s admittedly a more personal reflection than usual.  

Last week, I received some devastating news. A former PhD student of mine—a 2011 graduate of Ohio State and now a full professor at Colgate University—was diagnosed less than a month ago with an aggressive form of cancer. The cancer had already spread to her lungs, liver, bones, and brain. 

Carolina was a special student. In 2006, she was part of a large cohort—three of whom would eventually become my advisees thanks to a large NSF grant I led. Her research focus was far afield from mine. While I specialized in environmental economics, Carolina was interested in the intersection of gender roles, social norms, and economic outcomes in developing countries. 

In 2009, after facing difficulties with her assigned advisor, Carolina came to me and asked if I would co-advise her. I had taught her in our first-year Quantitative Methods course, and I knew her to be bright, fearless, and unafraid to speak her mind. Some found her demeanor off-putting—I found it admirable, exactly the type of courage needed to break into a notoriously non-diverse field (at the time, less than 10% of academic economists were women). 

I agreed to be her advisor under two conditions: 1) For funding reasons, she needed to work on my NSF project, which was not directly in her field, and 2) I wouldn’t be teaching her what she needed to know for her dissertation work, she would be teaching me. 

For the next two years, we met weekly—often more—and Carolina brought me into her world of development economics, gender theory, and intrahousehold bargaining. She guided me through the literature, challenged my assumptions, and broadened my intellectual horizons. I challenged her as well, but I guarantee you: I learned far more from Carolina than she ever did from me. 

Her dissertation was outstanding. It won our department’s best dissertation award and helped her land a tenure-track position at Colgate, a top liberal arts college. She quickly rose through the ranks, eventually earning a named professorship and a secondary appointment at Cornell University. 

Although we didn’t talk as often in recent years, we stayed in touch. And no matter how long it had been, she always opened with the same greeting: 

“Hi Advisor!” 

At first, I thought she was joking. Over time, I came to realize it was genuine, heartfelt. So, I would always end our conversations with a reply: 

“Goodbye, advisee.” 

Years later, Carolina told me that my willingness to advise a student whose work had almost no overlap with mine—we had one paper together (from the NSF project), and no other shared research—gave her the confidence to believe she could make it in academia. She told me she had modeled her own mentoring style after mine. 

Our paths diverged—my move into administration, her dealing with personal challenges. I hadn’t spoken with Carolina for a while. We last spoke in late December. I’d heard she had been struggling with mental health and was questioning her future in academia, so I reached out just to check in. She seemed in a good place. 

Then, this past Saturday, while sitting at a bar with my wife, I got a text from another former advisee—one from Carolina’s cohort, now an associate dean at Clemson.  

The message was brief: 

“We lost Carolina today.” 

I was stunned. 

Less than a month after her diagnosis. 

Just four days after I’d heard. 

Gone. 

No chance to reach out. 

No chance to offer support. 

No chance to do more. 

Just… gone. 

In the messages that followed, another colleague who had been close with Carolina as well asked me how I was doing.  

I replied: 

“I’m not sure what emotions I have right now. Obvious sadness, but anger and regret for not reaching out more. Just stunned.” 

She responded: 

“My partner would say that the mind can always find something to regret or blame yourself for, when someone dies. But I know that Carolina really loved you and always felt supported by you. You did enough by her.” 

It was the right message at the right moment. 

Because I had lost track of two things. 

First, I had forgotten the impact we have on our students—not just as scholars, but as humans. We help shape their journeys. We are not just guides through research or academia; we are often mentors, role models, and confidants. That impact can last a lifetime. 

Second—and perhaps more profoundly—I had forgotten the impact our students have on us. Carolina taught me, stretched me, challenged me. She left an imprint on me that I didn’t fully appreciate until I was sitting in that bar, staring at my phone. Stunned. 

So, I share this with you not only to honor Carolina, but to remind all of us: the advisor–advisee relationship is important. It is a bond that can shape lives—on both sides. 

Goodbye, advisee.