President Donald Trump’s executive order to rename the Gulf of Mexico and Alaska’s Denali, the tallest peak in the country, has resulted in lots of discussion. While for some, such renaming might seem less important than the big problems the country faces, there is a formal process in the United States for renaming places, and that process is taken seriously.

Usually, so people don’t get confused, official, agreed-upon names are used by the government. In the U.S., place names are standardized by the U.S. Board on Geographic Names, which is part of the U.S. Geological Survey, the agency in charge of making maps.

In his executive order, Trump asks the Board on Geographic Names “to honor the contributions of visionary and patriotic Americans” and change its policies and procedures to reflect that.

Usually, renaming a place starts locally. The people in the state or county propose a name change and gather support. The process in each state is different.

How to change a place name

Minnesota recently changed the name of a large lake in Minneapolis to Bde Maka Ska, which the Minneapolis Park Board described as “a Dakota name for the lake that has been passed down in oral history for many years.”

The board voted to change the name and took its request to the county commissioners. When the county agreed, the request was then sent to the Minnesota Department of Natural Resources, which made it official for Minnesota. Then, the state of Minnesota sent the request to the Board on Geographic Names, which made it official for the entire U.S.

It’s a lot of paperwork for something so seemingly minor, but people get passionate about place names. It took 40 years to rename Denali from the name established in the late 19th century, Mount McKinley.

The state of Alaska requested the name change in 1975, but the Board on Geographic Names didn’t take action. Members of the Ohio congressional delegation – President William McKinley was from Ohio – objected over many years to requests to rename the mountain, and the board did not act on those requests.

The president appoints the secretary of the Interior Department. The secretary works with the heads of related agencies to appoint the Board on Geographic Names. Current committee policy states, “Input from State geographic names authorities, land management agencies, local governments, and Tribal Governments are actively pursued.”

In 2015, President Barack Obama named a new leader for the Department of the Interior, Sally Jewell. Just as Obama made a trip to Alaska in late August 2015, Jewell declared the name change official under a law that allows the secretary of the Interior to change a name if the board doesn’t act on the proposal in a “reasonable” amount of time.

“This name change recognizes the sacred status of Denali to many Alaska Natives,” Jewell said. “The name Denali has been official for use by the State of Alaska since 1975, but even more importantly, the mountain has been known as Denali for generations. With our own sense of reverence for this place, we are officially renaming the mountain Denali in recognition of the traditions of Alaska Natives and the strong support of the people of Alaska.”

If someone objects to a name change, they could ask the courts to rule on whether the name change was made legally. Going back to Bde Maka Ska, some people objected to changing the name from Lake Calhoun, so they took the state natural resources agency to court. Eventually, the Minnesota Supreme Court ruled that the name change was done correctly.

Alaska’s two U.S. senators and prominent state figures have strongly objected to Trump’s renaming attempt.

How not to change a place name

Renaming the Gulf of Mexico is a different kind of case, however, from renaming a geographic place within U.S. borders.

The gulf is not within the territorial U.S. On the coast, the first 12 miles from shore are considered part of that country, but outside of that is international waters.

The Board on Geographic Names could change the name to Gulf of America on official U.S. maps, but there is no international board in charge of place names. Each country decides what to call places. And there is no official way for the U.S. to make other countries change the name.

It’s possible that the U.S. could formally ask other countries to change the name, or even impose sanctions against countries that don’t comply.

If the names were officially changed in the U.S., the government would use the new names in official documents, signage and maps. As for all the people and companies in the world that make maps, they usually use the official names. But there is nothing that would force them to, if they believed that a certain name is more widely recognized.

Innisfree McKinnon, Associate Professor of Geography, University of Wisconsin-Stout

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

A hundred years ago, astronomer Edwin Hubble dramatically expanded the size of the known universe. At a meeting of the American Astronomical Society in January 1925, a paper read by one of his colleagues on his behalf reported that the Andromeda nebula, also called M31, was nearly a million light years away – too remote to be a part of the Milky Way.

Hubble’s work opened the door to the study of the universe beyond our galaxy. In the century since Hubble’s pioneering work, astronomers like me have learned that the universe is vast and contains trillions of galaxies.

Nature of the nebulae

In 1610, astronomer Galileo Galilei used the newly invented telescope to show that the Milky Way was composed of a huge number of faint stars. For the next 300 years, astronomers assumed that the Milky Way was the entire universe.

As astronomers scanned the night sky with larger telescopes, they were intrigued by fuzzy patches of light called nebulae. Toward the end of the 18th century, astronomer William Herschel used star counts to map out the Milky Way. He cataloged a thousand new nebulae and clusters of stars. He believed that the nebulae were objects within the Milky Way.

Charles Messier also produced a catalog of over 100 prominent nebulae in 1781. Messier was interested in comets, so his list was a set of fuzzy objects that might be mistaken for comets. He intended for comet hunters to avoid them since they did not move across the sky.

As more data piled up, 19th century astronomers started to see that the nebulae were a mixed bag. Some were gaseous, star-forming regions, such as the Orion nebula, or M42 – the 42nd object in Messier’s catalog – while others were star clusters such as the Pleiades, or M45.

A third category – nebulae with spiral structure – particularly intrigued astronomers. The Andromeda nebula, M31, was a prominent example. It’s visible to the naked eye from a dark site.

Astronomers as far back as the mid-18th century had speculated that some nebulae might be remote systems of stars or “island universes,” but there was no data to support this hypothesis. Island universes referred to the idea that there could be enormous stellar systems outside the Milky Way – but astronomers now just call these systems galaxies.

In 1920, astronomers Harlow Shapley and Heber Curtis held a Great Debate. Shapley argued that the spiral nebulae were small and in the Milky Way, while Curtis took a more radical position that they were independent galaxies, extremely large and distant.

At the time, the debate was inconclusive. Astronomers now know that galaxies are isolated systems of stars, much smaller than the space between them.

Hubble makes his mark

Edwin Hubble was young and ambitious. At the of age 30, he arrived at Mount Wilson Observatory in Southern California just in time to use the new Hooker 100-inch telescope, at the time the largest in the world.

He began taking photographic plates of the spiral nebulae. These glass plates recorded images of the night sky using a light-sensitive emulsion covering their surface. The telescope’s size let it make images of very faint objects, and its high-quality mirror allowed it to distinguish individual stars in some of the nebulae.

Estimating distances in astronomy is challenging. Think of how hard it is to estimate the distance of someone pointing a flashlight at you on a dark night. Galaxies come in a very wide range of sizes and masses. Measuring a galaxy’s brightness or apparent size is not a good guide to its distance.

Hubble leveraged a discovery made by Henrietta Swan Leavitt 10 years earlier. She worked at the Harvard College Observatory as a “human computer,” laboriously measuring the positions and brightness of thousands of stars on photographic plates.

She was particularly interested in Cepheid variables, which are stars whose brightness pulses regularly, so they get brighter and dimmer with a particular period. She found a relationship between their variation period, or pulse, and their intrinsic brightness or luminosity.

Once you measure a Cepheid’s period, you can calculate its distance from how bright it appears using the inverse square law. The more distant the star is, the fainter it appears.

Hubble worked hard, taking images of spiral nebulae every clear night and looking for the telltale variations of Cepheid variables. By the end of 1924, he had found 12 Cepheids in M31. He calculated M31’s distance as a prodigious 900,000 light years away, though he underestimated its true distance – about 2.5 million light years – by not realizing there were two different types of Cepheid variables.

His measurements marked the end of the Great Debate about the Milky Way’s size and the nature of the nebulae. Hubble wrote about his discovery to Harlow Shapley, who had argued that the Milky Way encompassed the entire universe.

“Here is the letter that destroyed my universe,” Shapley remarked.

Always eager for publicity, Hubble leaked his discovery to The New York Times five weeks before a colleague presented his paper at the astronomers’ annual meeting in Washington, D.C.

An expanding universe of galaxies

But Hubble wasn’t done. His second major discovery also transformed astronomers’ understanding of the universe. As he dispersed the light from dozens of galaxies into a spectrum, which recorded the amount of light at each wavelength, he noticed that the light was always shifted to longer or redder wavelengths.

Light from the galaxy passes through a prism or reflects off a diffraction grating in a telescope, which captures the intensity of light from blue to red.

Astronomers call a shift to longer wavelengths a redshift.

It seemed that these redshifted galaxies were all moving away from the Milky Way.

Hubble’s results suggested the farther away a galaxy was, the faster it was moving away from Earth. Hubble got the lion’s share of the credit for this discovery, but Lowell Observatory astronomer Vesto Slipher, who noticed the same phenomenon but didn’t publish his data, also anticipated that result.

Hubble referred to galaxies having recession velocities, or speeds of moving away from the Earth, but he never figured out that they were moving away from Earth because the universe is getting bigger.

Belgian cosmologist and Catholic priest Georges Lemaitre made that connection by realizing that the theory of general relativity described an expanding universe. He recognized that space expanding in between the galaxies could cause the redshifts, making it seem like they were moving farther away from each other and from Earth.

Lemaitre was the first to argue that the expansion must have begun during the big bang.

NASA named its flagship space observatory after Hubble, and it has been used to study galaxies for 35 years. Astronomers routinely observe galaxies that are thousands of times fainter and more distant than galaxies observed in the 1920s. The James Webb Space Telescope has pushed the envelope even farther.

The current record holder is a galaxy a staggering 34 billion light years away, seen just 200 million years after the big bang, when the universe was 20 times smaller than it is now. Edwin Hubble would be amazed to see such progress.

Chris Impey, University Distinguished Professor of Astronomy, University of Arizona

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

Red 3 – also called FD&C Red No. 3, erythrosine or E127 – has been widely used in food, cosmetics and pharmaceuticals since its FDA approval in 1969. You’ve likely encountered Red 3 before. It’s a common additive to many candies, beverages, baked goods, cereals, maraschino cherries and gelatin desserts, as well as certain medications, syrups and cosmetics.

However, mounting scientific evidence suggests that consuming Red 3 poses significant health risks. These risks prompted California to ban its use in food in 2023 and the Food and Drug Administration to ban its use in both food and pharmaceuticals nationwide on Jan. 15, 2025.

As a researcher studying inflammation and cancer, I investigate how synthetic food dyes affect human health. Stricter regulations reflect growing concerns over the negative physiological effects of Red 3 and other synthetic dyes on your body, including causing cancer.

Health risks of Red 3

Over the past 35 years, an increasing amount of scientific evidence has identified the negative health effects of Red 3. While researchers haven’t yet established a direct link between Red 3 and cancer in people, substantial evidence from animal studies points to its carcinogenic potential.

First, Red 3 disrupts thyroid hormone regulation through several mechanisms. It inhibits the thyroid gland’s ability to absorb iodine, a key component for synthesizing thyroid hormones, and blocks an enzyme essential for converting one thyroid hormone to another, contributing to thyroid dysfunction. Along with other impairments in thyroid hormone function, Red 3 increases the risk of thyroid-related disorders.

Second, Red 3 may promote thyroid tumor formation. Several studies exposing rats and pigs to Red 3 observed enlarged tumorous thyroid glands and abnormalities in hormone regulation.

Third, Red 3 can have toxic effects on the brain in multiple ways. Rat studies have found that this synthetic dye increases oxidative stress, which damages tissues, and reduces the antioxidants that control oxidative stress, impairing communication between neurons. Studies in rodents also found that Red 3 triggers neuroinflammation that leads to neuronal damage and dysfunction. Additionally, Red 3 may interact with the amyloid-beta peptides linked to neurodegenerative conditions like Alzheimer’s disease and worsen those conditions.

Regulatory momentum

Red 3 first faced scrutiny in the 1980s when several animal studies linked it to thyroid tumors in male rats. This led to its 1990 ban in cosmetics in the U.S., although its use in food persisted under industry pressure. While the European Union restricted the use of Red 3 to only certain types of processed cherries in 1994, the U.S. has lagged behind.

California’s 2023 ban of Red 3 in foods, effective in 2027, reignited debate on Red 3 and its link to cancer and spurred 24 organizations to advocate for federal action.

This debate culminated in the FDA’s nationwide ban in January 2025. While the FDA cites no direct evidence of Red 3’s carcinogenic effect in people, it acknowledges that animal studies provide sufficient basis for regulatory action. The FDA’s decision aligns with the 1958 Delaney Clause of the Federal Food, Drug and Cosmetic Act, mandating a ban on additives shown to cause cancer in humans or animals.

Notably, it took over 35 years from the initial findings of thyroid cancer in rodents to the eventual ban in 2025.

A path forward

The progression from Red 3’s approval to its prohibition highlights the conflict between industrial interests and public health. Continued vigilance over Red 3 could help the nation prioritize consumer safety.

Under the FDA’s mandate, manufacturers must reformulate food products and ingested drugs to leave out Red 3 by January 2027 and January 2028, respectively. While some countries still permit use of Red 3, U.S. imports must meet domestic safety standards. Harmonizing global standards on regulating and evaluating synthetic dyes is essential to protect consumer health.

Several companies selling ultra-processed foods have begun the shift away from synthetic dyes. In 2016, Mars announced plans to remove all artificial colors from its human food products over a five-year period. In 2024, General Mills announced that it would eliminate artificial colors and flavors from its products.

Consumers can protect themselves from Red 3 exposure by reading ingredient labels for “FD&C Red No. 3” or “E127” and choosing products that use natural dyes. Preparing homemade foods with natural color alternatives like beet juice or turmeric is another option. Supporting dye-free brands and staying informed about regulatory changes can further reduce your exposure while promoting safer food practices.

Ongoing research and policy reforms focused on public safety could help ensure that food additives like Red 3 no longer put consumer health at risk.

Lorne J. Hofseth, Professor and Associate Dean for Research, College of Pharmacy, University of South Carolina

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.