Was 2022 The “Deadliest Year on Record” For Children in Arkansas?

In my Inbox I read the following sentence, summarizing an article on child health in Arkansas: “The latest Annie E. Casey Foundation KIDS COUNT Data Book shows 2022 was the deadliest year on record for child deaths in Arkansas.”

Deadliest on record! That certainly grabbed my attention. I clicked the link and read the article. Indeed, they emphasize three times that 2022 was the “deadliest year” for kids in Arkansas, including with a chart! And the chart does seem to support the claim: in 2022 there were 44 child and teen deaths per 100,000 in Arkansas, higher than any year on the chart.

But wait a minute, this chart only goes back to 2010. Surely the record goes back further than that? Indeed it does. It took me three minutes (yes, I timed myself, and you have to use 4 different databases) to complete the necessary queries from CDC WONDER to extract the data to replicate their 2010-2022 chart, and to extend the data back a lot further: all the way to 1968 (though in 30 seconds I could have extended it back to 1999).

And what do we find in 1968? The death rate for children and teens in Arkansas was twice as high as it was in 2022. Not just a little higher, but double. With some more digging, I might be able to go back further than 1968, but from the easily accessible CDC data, that’s as far back as “the record” goes. Of course, I knew where to look, but I would hope that a group producing a data book on child health also knows where to look. And you don’t need to extend this very far past the arbitrary 2010 cutoff in the article quoted: 2008 and every year before it was more deadly than 2022 for children in Arkansas. Here’s a chart showing the good long-run trend:

Now there is a notable flattening of the long-run trend in the past 15 years or so, and a big reversal since 2019. What could be causing this? The article I read doesn’t get specific, but here’s what they say: “The state data isn’t broken out into cause of death, but firearm-related deaths have become the leading cause of death among U.S. teens in recent years. Deaths from accidents such as car crashes account for most child deaths.”

But using CDC WONDER, we can easily check on what is causing the increase since 2019. “Firearm-related deaths” is an interesting phrase, since it lumps together three very different kinds of deaths: homicides, suicides, and accidents. And while it is true that “deaths from accidents” are the leading category of deaths for children, this also lumps together many different kinds of deaths: not only car crashes, but also poisonings, drownings, or accidental firearm deaths.

For Arkansas in 2022, here are the leading categories of deaths for children and teens (ages 1-19) if we break down the categories a bit:

  • Homicides: 66
  • Non-transport accidents: 58 (largest subcategories: poisonings/ODs and drowning)
  • Transport accidents: 52 (almost all car crashes)
  • Suicides: 24
  • Birth defects: 16
  • Cancers: 14
  • Cardiovascular diseases: 13

And no other categories are reported, because CDC WONDER won’t show you anything smaller than 10 deaths.

We might also ask what caused the increase since 2019, especially since this a report on child health and possible solutions. The death rate increased by 9 deaths per 100,000, and over 80% of the increase is accounted for by just two categories: homicides and non-transport accidents. Car crashes actually fell slightly (though the rate increased a bit, since the denominator was also smaller). Deaths from suicides, cancer, and heart diseases also declined from 2019 to 2022 among children in Arkansas, and these are the three on the list above that we would probably consider the “health” categories. Things actually got better!

But the really big increase, and very bad social trend, is the category of homicides. Among children and teens in Arkansas, it rose from 35 deaths in 2019 to 66 deaths in 2022. It almost doubled. That’s bad! But homicides are not mentioned anywhere in the article on this topic that I read (“firearm-related deaths” is the closest they get). And while car accidents are definitely a major problem, they didn’t really increase from 2019 to 2022 (among kids in Arkansas).

One more thing we can do with CDC WONDER is break down the homicides by age. The numbers so far are looking at a very broad range of children and teens, from ages 1-19. As I’ve written about before, the is a huge difference between homicide rates for older teens versus all of the kids. Indeed for Arkansas we see the same pattern, such as when I run a CDC WONDER query for single-years of age: only the ages 17, 18, and 19 show up (remember, anything less than 10 deaths won’t register in the query).

Breaking it down by five-year age groups, we see that 53 of the 66 homicides (in Arkansas among kids and teens) were for ages 15-19, that is 80% of the total. And further if we run the query by race, we see that 40 of the 66 homicides were for African Americans age 15-19. This is clearly a social problem, but it’s an extremely concentrated social problem. And the increase for older teen Blacks has been large too: it was just 17 deaths in 2019, more than doubling to 40 homicides in 2022.

Now, small numbers can jump around a bit, so just looking at 2019 and 2022 might be deceptive. What if we had a longer annual series to look at? Again, CDC WONDER allows us to do this. Here is the chart for homicides among older Black teens in Arkansas:

This is a dramatic chart. The steady rise in homicides among this demographic since 2019 is staggering. Not only the dramatic increase, but notice that 2021 and 2022 are much worse than the crime wave of the early 1990s, which also jump out in this chart. The homicide rate for older Black teens in 2022 was almost 50 percent higher than 1995, the prior worst year on record.

So is there a problem with child and teen deaths in Arkansas? Yes! But with just a few minutes of searching on CDC WONDER, I think we can get a much better picture of what is causing it than the article I read summarizing the report. Indeed, if we read the full national report, the word “homicide” is only mentioned once in a laundry list of many causes of death.

The most important part of addressing a social problem, such as “deadliest year on record for child deaths in Arkansas” is to know some basic details about what is causing a bad social indicator to worsen. Hopefully after reading this blog post you know a little bit more. If you want to read my summary of the research on how to reduce deaths from firearms, see this June 2022 post.

Recovering My Frozen Assets at BlockFi, Part1. How Sam Bankman-Fried’s Fraud Cost Me.

Back in 2021, interest rates had been so low for so long that that seemed to be the new normal. Yields on stable assets like money market funds were around 0.3% (essentially zero, and well below inflation), as I recall. As a yield addict, I scratched around for a way to earn higher interest, while sticking with an asset where (unlike bonds) the dollar value would stay fairly stable.

It was an era of crypto flourishing, and so I latched onto the notion of decentralized finance (DeFi) lending. I found what seemed to be a reputable, honest company called BlockFi, where I could buy stablecoin (constant dollar value) crypto assets which would sit on their platform. They would lend them out into the crypto world, and pay me something like 9 % interest. That was really, really good money back then, compared to 0.3%.

On this blog, I chronicled some of my steps in this journal. First, in signing up for BlockFi, I had to allow the intermediary company Plaid complete access to my bank account. Seriously, I had to give them my username and password, so they could log in as me, and not only be able to withdraw all my funds, but see all my banking transactions and history. That felt really violating, so I ended up setting up a small auxiliary bank account for Plaid to use and snoop to their heart’s content.

I did get up and running with BlockFi, and put in some funds and enjoyed the income, as I happily proclaimed (12/14/2021) on this blog, “ Earning Steady 9% Interest in My New Crypto Account “.

BlockFi assured me that they only loaned my assets out to “Trusted institutional counterparties” with a generous margin of collateral. What could possibly go wrong?

What went wrong is that BlockFi as a company got into some close relationship with Sam Bankman-Fried’s company, FTX.  Back in 2021-2022, twenty-something billionaire Sam Bankman-Fried (“SBF”) was the whiz kid, the visionary genius, the white knight savior of the crypto universe. In several cases, when some crypto enterprise was tottering, he would step in and invest funds to stabilize things. This reminded some of the role that J. P. Morgan had played in staving off the financial panics of 1893 and 1907. SBF was feted and lauded and quoted endlessly.

For reasons I never understood, BlockFi as a company was having a hard time turning a profit, so I think the plan was for FTX to acquire them. That process was partway along, when the great expose’ of SBF as a self-serving fraudster occurred at the end of 2022. He effectively gambled with his customers’ money. This would have made him even richer if his bets had paid off, but they went sour, which brought everything crashing down.

FTX quickly declared bankruptcy, which forced BlockFi to go BK as well. SBF was eventually locked up, but so were the funds I had put into BlockFi. The amount was not enough to threaten my lifestyle, but it was enough to be quite annoying.

Sam’s parents are both law professors at Stanford who are now resisting returning to FTX’s creditors the  $32 million (!!!) in assets (cash and real estate) that SBF had given them out of FTX’s operations. Some of that $32 million they are hoarding is mine, since BlockFi needs to recover its claims against FTX in order to make BlockFi clients whole. Sam’s mother has denounced the legal judgment against her son as “as “McCarthyite” and a “relentless pursuit of total destruction,” which is enabled by “a credulous public.” One wonders what little Sammy imbibed in the way of practical ethics in that household of idealistic Stanford law professors – the “effective altruism” that the Bankman-Fried family touts is perhaps a gratifying concept, until it actually costs you something you don’t want to part with. But I digress.

BlockFi Assets Begin to Thaw

I got emails from BlockFi every few months, assuring customers that they would do what they could to return our assets. Their bankruptcy proceedings kept things locked, but now they are starting to return some money. A judge ruled in early 2023 that assets held by users in their BlockFi “wallet” belonged to the users and could be withdrawn. However, assets in the interest-bearing account (which is where my stablecoin was) technically still belong to the bankrupt company’s estate, and were not necessarily available for withdrawal. But now, following another legal agreement,  BlockFi is returning funds from the interest accounts. The problem is that you will only get some fraction of what you put in. Some YouTube commenters have complained they only got 10-25% of their assets, and no one seems to know if they will ever get more. Ouch.

I got an email from BlockFi saying that I have assets to claim, but I need to set up an actual independent crypto wallet to receive them. BlockFi will only transfer the actual coin, not the dollar values. So, I am in the middle of this process. It’s one thing to open a wallet, where you can transfer crypto coins in and out. It is another to exchange or monetize your coin; for that you seem to need an exchange.

I have chosen to go with Coinbase. It is not the cheapest alternative, but it seems to be the most solid U.S. based crypto exchange. I have opened a Coinbase account now. As with BlockFi, I had to go through Plaid (ugh) for the connection to my bank account.

Next thing I need to do is to open a Coinbase wallet, and try to connect with BlockFi, and see what I get back. I will post later on what happens there.

Update: I got scammed in this process, see here. My bad for clicking on a link in an email, instead of going to the official website for the link…

Alabama’s Homicide Rate is More than Double New York City

A lot of people think New York City is an especially high-crime city. Including some US Senators. Here’s senior Senator from Alabama:

Ignore the weird obsession with Biden’s ice cream habit. The Senator is concerned that NYC is not safe.

But what’s the reality? Here’s a map showing the homicide rate in each state, and its relative position to NYC (data is from the CDC for 2022, the most recent complete year available right now).

The light-colored states have a lower homicide rate than NYC (5.2 deaths per 100,000). There’s 18 of those states. But most states have higher homicide rates than NYC. Some are a lot higher, even triple NYC in a few states (colored purple). Alabama’s homicide rate of 13.9 deaths per 100,000 people is about 2.5 times as high as New York City.

But perhaps the homicide rates in these states are being driven by high homicide rates in cities in those states? Comparing a city to a state is perhaps a little strange to do, but I also often hear this retort: well, it’s those cities, especially “Democrat-controlled” cities, that are driving the high homicide rate in Alabama and elsewhere. And while this is true to a certain extent, comparing rural counties to New York City doesn’t make Alabama and the South look much better:

For this map I combined 2021 and 2022 data, because the CDC doesn’t report very small numbers (usually under 10 deaths), so grouping two years is needed to get more data. Even so, there are still a handful of states that don’t have enough homicides for CDC to report them over that two-year period, and they are shown in gray on the map (as well as states that have no rural counties: Delaware, Rhode Island, and New Jersey).

Notice that even focusing on just the rural counties, there are almost 20 states with higher murder rates than New York City. Again, some are double or even triple. Rural Alabama, at 11 deaths per 100,000 people, is exactly double NYC. Notably, the entirety of the rural South is higher than NYC.

If this is all true, why might New York City feel less safe? There are a number of possible explanations, but I’ll offer a few. First, homicide isn’t the only kind of crime. While it does correlate with other crimes, it’s not a 1:1 relationship, so it’s likely that some places with higher homicide rates than NYC have lower levels of assault, rape, or property crimes. These are even more challenging to compare across jurisdictions, but it’s a possible explanation. Related, NYC is a relatively safe big city! Other big cities wouldn’t compare as favorably to Alabama. But folks just seem to love NYC as a punching bag.

The other explanation is just the sheer number of people, and therefore homicides. According to the CDC, NYC had 434 homicides in 2022, that’s an average of more than one per day. You could literally turn on the news every single day and hear about a murder, and perhaps you had even been in the neighborhood where it happened recently. Contrast rural Alabama, which had 65 homicides in 2022. That’s only about one per week. And it might be happening in a completely different part of the state from you, so you either don’t hear about it or think “that’s somewhere else.”

But rural Alabama only has about 600,000 people. NYC has fourteen times as many people. So if we are trying to answer the question “What are the odds that a random person is murdered in a given year?”, we need to take population into account. That’s the logic of reporting homicide rates. Indeed it may feel like NYC is less safe, and that’s a natural human reaction. But that’s why the data is so important, to give us a sense of proportion.