When Brexit-weary U.K. voters handed Prime Minister Boris Johnson’s Conservative Party a commanding majority in Parliament Dec. 12, they ended a withering political impasse over leaving the European Union that damaged the U.K.’s economy and its reputation as a stable democracy.

Days later, Parliament began to lay the legal groundwork for an exit on Jan. 31, nearly one year from its original deadline. On Feb. 1, the United Kingdom, which joined in 1973, would be out, finally. 

Job done? Not exactly.

The heated debate over how the U.K. exits the EU is only the prelude to what could be years of wrangling over trade between the world’s fifth largest economy and its largest free trading bloc. Both sides have a strong interest in finding a post-Brexit economic equilibrium. But a lack of trust and clashing political agendas could make the next phase of Brexit just as difficult for the U.K. and expose its economy to further damage if talks break down. 

Grace period or cliff edge?

Under Mr. Johnson’s exit deal, the U.K. stays in the European bloc until the end of 2020, a grace period to allow negotiators to draw up new terms of trade. If no agreement is reached, the U.K. would be out, and barriers would go up to EU markets, where nearly half of British exports go.

EU officials warn it may be impossible to conclude a comprehensive agreement by December 2020. The exit deal allows for a mutually agreed extension of the grace period for up to two years. But Mr. Johnson has ruled this out. 

“In case we cannot conclude an agreement by the end of 2020, we will face again a cliff-edge situation,” Ursula von der Leyen, president of the European Commission, said on Dec. 18. 

Analysts say Mr. Johnson may ultimately go for an extension, but that the risk of a “hard Brexit” remains. For some of his allies, breaking with EU rules and regulations would unleash British capitalism in a low-regulation economy, a model known as “Singapore-on-Thames.”

Trade talks are expected to start by March and any extension must be requested by July 1, setting up a crunch point early in Mr. Johnson’s term that could puncture his campaign promise.

“Far from Brexit disappearing from the news, it will be back with a vengeance,” says Alex de Ruyter, director of the Center for Brexit Studies at Birmingham City University. 

An extension of talks would require the U.K. to continue paying into the EU budget, an unpalatable prospect for the government. Mr. Johnson led the Brexit campaign in 2016 that claimed falsely that the U.K. paid £350 million a week (about $460 million), money that it could redirect to its national health service. The actual net contribution is £212 million, according to the U.K.’s statistics agency, which would likely be dwarfed by the cumulative effects of slower economic growth outside the EU under a free trade agreement. 

Mr. Johnson’s supporters say a bare bones agreement for cross-border trade in goods can be agreed to next year – and that by refusing to extend, the U.K. is forcing both sides to find common ground.

Phil Noble/Reuters

British manufacturing, like the production at this Nissan car plant in Sunderland, England, is dependent on “just-in-time” supplies from Europe that will be cut off without a trade deal with the EU.

Such an agreement would not, however, guarantee British companies full access to European markets. And it would exclude most services, which are the U.K.’s largest export to the EU, particularly in banking and insurance. EU regulators insist that non-EU partners must meet their exacting criteria for services if they want trading privileges.

Even if the EU shows flexibility, the 27 member states have their own agendas on thorny issues like fishing rights, state subsidies, and data protection. Any comprehensive trade agreement must be approved by lawmakers in each country.

“There’s no way that the EU could compromise on big policy areas where they want to be leaders and to ensure unity in the EU,” says Sara Hagemann, director of the school for public policy at the London School of Economics (LSE).

What does Boris really want?

Perhaps the biggest unknown is what exactly Mr. Johnson, a political chameleon famous for eschewing policy details, wants from a future economic partnership with the EU.

His exit deal differed from his predecessor Theresa May’s in watering down the U.K.’s commitment to mirror EU standards on labor, environmental protection, and other sectors in return for privileged market access. Mr. Johnson has insisted the U.K. can set its own rules and maintain its trading privileges.

“He would like to have his cake and eat it too, but he’s not going to get it,” says Mr. de Ruyter.

A looser relationship would allow the U.K. more flexibility to negotiate with the United States and other non-EU trading partners. President Donald Trump, a political ally of Mr. Johnson and a fan of Brexit, said he wants an “ambitious” free trade pact with the U.K. Still, economists say any U.S. pact wouldn’t make up for a rupture in ties with Europe, given the relative size of cross-border trade.

Mr. Johnson will face intense pressure from U.K. companies not to scuttle EU trade, particularly in industries anchored in the English equivalent of the Rust Belt.

“It could go either way. Don’t assume we’re going to end up with hardcore Brexit,” says Simon Hix, a professor of political science at  LSE.

One reason is political calculus: Mr. Johnson won his majority by peeling away left-leaning voters in the Midlands and North who are more likely to work in manufacturing and food processing. “He has to deliver to those constituencies a Brexit that’s beneficial to them,” says Dr. Hix.

The size of Mr. Johnson’s majority also lessens his dependence on free market Conservatives who lionize a low-regulation economy. 

In the West Midlands, up to 50,000 jobs depend on automakers who have warned of the risks that a hard Brexit creates for “just-in-time” manufacturing that relies on a web of parts suppliers outside the U.K., says Mr. de Ruyter. Toyota’s auto plant in Burnaston, for example, only stocks four hours worth of parts for the models it produces and relies on daily deliveries of parts from trucks that arrive from mainland Europe via the Port of Dover. 

Even a trade deal that avoids tariffs and quotas on goods from Europe but adds to waiting times at ports is a setback. “I’m not sure that a bare bones deal would be enough for manufacturers,” he says.

Sir Ivan Rogers, the U.K.’s former top diplomat at the EU, has warned of a repeat of last year’s debacle if the U.K. fails to think and act strategically. “I believe the biggest crisis of Brexit to date actually still lies ahead of us in late 2020,” he said in a pre-election speech at the University of Glasgow in Scotland.

Sir Ivan, who resigned in 2017 over the U.K.’s handling of Brexit, said he believed a Johnson victory would play into the hands of EU negotiators who know the prime minister will refuse to extend trade talks. That creates a “huge, open goal opportunity” for the EU to lay out its preconditions for a close relationship and force Mr. Johnson to choose between an unpalatable trade deal and a hard break that could wreck the U.K. economy.

“We have lived in a European world where more and more of those barriers within Europe have been taken down, and where we have helped reduce the barriers between that European world and more other jurisdictions than has any other trade bloc in the world. All those barriers go up unless and until we agree with others to remove them,” he said.

The EU-U.K. relationship could end up as “thin, sour, and conflictual,” Sir Ivan said. “That is in neither side’s best interest. But it might require real vision from both to avoid it.”

Mussa Qawasma/AP

Palestinian Authority President Mahmoud Abbas attends a Christmas midnight mass in the Church of the Nativity in the West Bank town of Bethlehem, Dec. 25, 2019. The church, built over the site where Christians believe Jesus was born, hosted Palestinian dignitaries and pilgrims from around the world.

For an entire generation of Palestinians, participating in national elections is something never before experienced. Many barely recall the last time a parliamentary vote was held, 14 years ago.

But with a steady stream of pronouncements about elections back in the national dialogue, there’s an uptick in optimism among Palestinians that they may finally go back to the polls to elect a legislature and a president.

And after years of infighting and acrimony between President Mahmoud Abbas’ Fatah party and the Islamist Hamas that has paralyzed domestic Palestinian politics, the two bitter rivals have agreed in principle to hold a long-awaited election as a step toward mending the rift.

“Yes, I’m excited. I’m 25, and I’ve never voted before. I’m waiting to see who’s going to be the next president and who I’m going to vote for,” says Anas Tzahboub, a soccer coach. “It’s important for Palestinians to choose their leader.” 

To be sure, formidable obstacles remain that may prevent a vote from ever getting off the ground. For one, despite Mr. Abbas’ vow at the United Nations General Assembly in September to issue a decree for elections, he has yet to do so – stoking concern he might not follow through for fear Fatah might lose at the ballot box.  

Then there’s Israel, which has yet to say whether it will allow Palestinians under its control in contested East Jerusalem to participate. Mr. Abbas insisted Sunday that including Jerusalemites in the voting is essential for the elections to take place. 

Finally, there’s the feud between Fatah and Hamas, which seized power in Gaza in 2007 from the Fatah-dominated Palestinian Authority.

For more than a decade, the leading Palestinian parties have failed at repeated efforts at compromise – preferring divided rule despite overwhelming public sentiment on behalf of reconciliation. The enduring bad blood could play a role in snagging the vote over unresolved procedural details of how the elections will be held. 

“There is a lot of frustration that the Palestinian division was the reason for the stalemate, and the inability of the Palestinians to hold parliamentary and presidential elections,’’ says Mkaimar Abusada, a political science professor at Al Azhar University in the Gaza Strip.

“Elections were supposed to be the outcome of reconciliation,” he says. “But after repeated failures, the president said we should do it the other way around. Elections will be the key, the first step to Palestinian reconciliation.”

Public sentiment

A December public opinion poll by the Palestinian Center for Policy and Survey Research highlighted ambivalence among the Palestinian public about the prospect for a successful vote.

On the one hand, 52% of Palestinians said they expect elections to be held soon, up from 38% three months earlier. Some 68% said they would participate.

On the other hand, only 42% said they believe the elections would be free and fair. And about two-thirds of those polled said they doubted that Fatah or Hamas would cede power if defeated.

Years of mothballed domestic politics, stalemated peace talks with Israel, and violent upheaval around the wider Middle East have deflated Palestinian expectations for progress. In shops and on the streets in central Ramallah, the seat of the Palestinian Authority, the suggestion of elections – or intikhab – occasionally evokes cynical laughter.

Some said reaching a peace deal with Israel is more important.

Willah Abdel Wahab, a 30-year-old lawyer from Ramallah, says that when elections are finally called, she’ll carefully consider her choice for a party, though she prefers one that isn’t Fatah or Hamas. Still, she is deeply skeptical that a vote would substantially change Palestinian politics – or that one will be called at all.

“Elected officials haven’t done anything,” she says. “I don’t think it’s going to change anything. Because it’s the same people. Even if the president is going to change it will be the same people.”

Indeed, elections have been few and far between since the Palestinians got autonomous rule in 1994 following the 1993 signing of the first Oslo Accord between Israel and the Palestine Liberation Organization.

Mohamad Torokman/Reuters

A poster depicting the late Palestinian leader Yasser Arafat is seen on the 15th anniversary of his death, in Ramallah in the Israeli-occupied West Bank, Nov. 11, 2019.

There have been two presidential elections: Yasser Arafat, the longtime PLO leader, was elected with 88% of the vote in 1996; and in 2005, Mr. Abbas received 63%. The 2006 parliamentary election counted as the one contest between Hamas and Fatah – a victory for Hamas. The four-year terms of Mr. Abbas and the parliament have long since expired, and last year the president said he would dissolve the legislature.

“We need elections as soon as possible. People have been deprived of their right to elections for more than 10 years, and that’s more than anyone can tolerate,” says Mustafa Barghouti, who ran for president against Mr. Abbas in 2005. “We have a whole younger generation – the vast majority of the voters – who have never had the chance to vote.”

Palestinians have long since grown weary of Mr. Abbas. Nearly two-thirds believe he should resign. At the same time, frustration has grown in Gaza with Hamas’ rule and the economic crisis caused by Israel’s blockade of the territory.

“If elections were to take place, everyone would be shocked by the results. Neither Hamas nor Fatah would win,” says Nashat Aqtash, who advised the pro-Hamas Reform and Change party in the West Bank in 2006. “If there’s a third party that was well organized, it could win.”

Why has Mr. Abbas renewed the election push after so many years?

Observers have offered several explanations. One is that the Palestinian Authority has come under pressure from European donor countries to hold a vote. Another theory is that the goal of elections will dominate the agenda because of its popularity, and distract from criticism of the PA. A third explanation holds that Mr. Abbas is seeking to pressure Hamas, which boycotted a recent round of municipal elections.

“His goal is not for better representation through elections, but rather his goal is to try to mitigate the competition from Hamas. I think he was surprised Hamas accepted,” says Sam Bahour, a Palestinian American businessman and political analyst.

An Israeli veto?

The Palestinian Authority formally notified Israel this month that it planned to hold the election in East Jerusalem, which Palestinians demand as their future capital in any peace deal with Israel. Though the city’s 341,000 Arab residents have participated in previous Palestinian elections – as required by the peace accords – Israel’s right-wing government has not given an answer. The push for Palestinian elections comes as their Israeli neighbors have been mired in a political crisis that has forced three general elections in less than 12 months.     

On Dec. 29, Mr. Abbas told a meeting of the Fatah party that there would be no vote without participation of Palestinians who live “in the heart” of the city. But many Palestinians believe that elections are too important to be held up over the dispute over Jerusalem.   

“I don’t agree with placing a veto in Israel’s hands by saying, ‘If Israel doesn’t allow elections in Jerusalem, elections won’t happen,’” says Mr. Bahour. “I think that that’s placing a strategic need in the hands of an entity that doesn’t have any interest in moving Palestinian internal politics forward.”

It’s still far from assured, however, whether Hamas and Fatah are ready to agree on the details holding one unified election. Over the years of estrangement, Mr. Abbas’ security forces have jailed Islamists in the West Bank, and Hamas has done the same with opponents in Gaza.

Once Mr. Abbas issues a decree, the two parties must reach an accord about what force will be responsible for securing the vote, and which court will preside over legal challenges. There’s also a rule that requires candidates to swear allegiance to the Palestine Liberation Organization in writing – which is problematic for Hamas members who are ideologically opposed to the PLO’s peace deal with Israel.

The stymied politics from all sides have “doused water on the fire” for change among Palestinians, says Murad Odeh, a 42-year old shopkeeper with a jewelry store on Ramallah’s Al-Manara Square. Palestinian leaders, like others in Israel and countries elsewhere, suffer from an addiction to power, he says.    

“The bigger problem is that someone when gets in the chair, they don’t want to leave,” he says. “I hope it’s going to change.”

Human origins research. The phrase probably evokes an image of dusty scientists hunched over in the sun, combing the ground for scraps left behind by people of millennia past. The field has long been the realm of stones and bones, with test tube-filled laboratories playing second fiddle. 

But that’s changing. Paleoanthropology has found a second home in the lab, as geneticists have joined the field, extracting DNA from fossils in search of new insights into early human history.

“It’s white coat science,” says John Shea, a professor of archaeology at Stony Brook University. “It’s not bluejeans and khaki shirt science.”

Over the past decade, the study of ancient DNA has enriched our evolving tale of early human history. In the field, it’s resolved long-standing debates, raised new questions, and added nuance to our perpetual quest to answer what it means to be human. 

“I can’t tell you how many times I’ve had to rewrite lectures” because of new paleogenetics revelations, says Jennifer Raff, an anthropological geneticist at the University of Kansas. “I can’t wait to see what the next decade brings.”

A turning point

Ancient DNA, or aDNA, was just beginning to catch on when Dr. Raff finished her dual Ph.D. in anthropology and genetics in 2008. Fragments of ancient genomes were being sequenced, analyzed, and discussed. But Dr. Raff was unsure if science could ever recover full genomes from long back in time. 

But then it happened. The following year, a team of scientists announced that they had pieced together the full genome of a 38,000-year-old Neanderthal. They published their findings in May 2010 in the journal Science, ushering in a new decade of discovery and understanding.

The sequence was not only a marvel of this new technology; it shed light on a long-standing debate about how these archaic humans may have interacted with our direct ancestors. 

The two had interbred. The idea had circulated in some circles, but had long been considered the musings of a “lunatic fringe” by many in the field. But now, there it was, etched in the DNA.

For decades, scientists categorized hominins based on the differences in the shape of their bones. But DNA has brought a faster way to get more definitive answers about the identities of ancient peoples. 

“I’m done with ‘who’ questions,” Dr. Shea says. “Ancient DNA is freeing archaeologists up to start looking at the really interesting questions. And the most interesting question is ‘how.’” How did a group of ancient people move across a forbidding landscape? How did they survive through frigid winters? 

Those questions can help to animate our view of the past, and deepen our understanding of where we come from. Paleogeneticists are digging into ancient genomes looking for biological answers to those questions, too, but piecing together a fuller story will take a multidisciplinary approach, says Dr. Raff.

“There’s a whole field of anthropology that talks about what makes us human, and that’s not just our biology,” she says. “It’s also culture and technology and behavior and ecology. There’s just so much that goes into understanding the past.”

One of us?

The revelation that Neanderthals interbred with early Homo sapiens has raised some fundamental questions about what it means to be human. 

Traditionally, the line between species is defined by whether they can interbreed and produce viable offspring that can, in turn, produce viable offspring. But, due to similarities in the bones and now the genetic evidence, some anthropologists have labeled Neanderthals as Homo sapiens neanderthalensis and anatomically modern humans as Homo sapiens sapiens.

One such researcher is Fred Smith, professor emeritus of anthropology and biology at Illinois State University. He argues it from a morphological point of view, too.

“You would never mistake a Neanderthal for anything but a human,” Dr. Smith says. “It might not be a human that you’d like to go on a blind date with, but if you saw one, you wouldn’t think of it as not being human.”

By that logic, many researchers refer to other members of the genus Homo as “human,” too. But some say it might be our understanding of speciation that needs revising, not the distinctions among species in the genus. 

“The pattern of evolutionary thinking is that you have a point in time where two lineages diverge,” after which they do not cross again, says Rick Potts, director of the Smithsonian National Museum of Natural History’s Human Origins Program. 

But that branching model of evolution and speciation is proving to be too simplistic across biology, with hybridizing appearing among present-day creatures, too. “Evolution and the formation of species are a process, not an event,” he says.

Regardless of whether we can call Neanderthals one of us, the revelation of prehistoric trysts between the two peoples has changed our perception of those other humans. 

Before ancient DNA came on the scene, “Neanderthal” was often lobbed as an insult – and sometimes still is. When archaeologists suggested that they had found Neanderthal art and musical instruments, they were dismissed quickly, as the logic went that only Homo sapiens could have the cognitive abilities for that level of creativity. But with the revelation that we are similar enough to them that we could interbreed, that kind of research has been entertained and discussed more frequently. 

“I think it gives a very important correction on those who would see the Neanderthal simply as incapable of thought, incapable of being clever,” Dr. Potts says. “And it also, I think, gives a bit of humility to ourselves for those who are willing to look at it.” 

Of all the things thou shalt not covet under the Tenth Commandment, thy brother’s bankruptcy theory may be the least of your temptations. But in the marketplace of ideas, the success of others – if not handled well – can get a scholar off his spiritual game, says David Skeel. Mr. Skeel, professor of corporations and bankruptcy at the University of Pennsylvania Law School, describes the moral stumbling blocks of life at the highest levels of a profession he’s inhabited for the past 30 years, and for which he trains the next generation.

Unbridled ambition can blunt the joy of the work, Mr. Skeel believes. He helps keep his own competitiveness in check by trying to distinguish the passion for excellence from the quest for professional stature.

“Spurring one another on – when excitement about another scholar’s work makes me want to do something exciting myself – is one of the joys of being a scholar, and isn’t coveting, in my view,” he explains. “And sometimes it even leads to writing something together! But the temptation to undercut another scholar, or even not to help them when the opportunity arises, is a temptation that comes from coveting what they have.”

The professor spoke about the Tenth Commandment – Thou shalt not covet thy neighbour’s house, thou shalt not covet thy neighbour’s wife, nor his manservant, nor his maidservant, nor his ox, nor his ass, nor any thing that is thy neighbour’s (Exodus 20:17) – as part of the Monitor’s series exploring how people of different faiths use the Ten Commandments’ ancient principles in their modern lives.

When colleagues shine

Drawing the distinction between the quest for excellence and the desire for stature was harder early in his career, says Mr. Skeel, speaking in his comfortable street-level office in Silverman Hall. He’s flanked on one side by the Ivy League’s womb of selectivity and scholarship, on the other side by busy Philadelphia street life. “When one colleague developed a grand theory of bankruptcy, I felt like I had to develop a grand theory of bankruptcy,” he recalls. Now, when he reads something impressive, he usually takes it in stride. But not always. Sometimes the ambition wins, at least for a while. He recalls being unable to sleep after reading one paper not long ago: “What was I going to write that was comparable?”

The job of scholars, he says, is “to encourage one another” to give credit and honest feedback when due, even if it might elevate a colleague and reduce one’s own stature.

Mr. Skeel puts his motivations to the test and suggests that the students in the Christian law student group he advises do the same. “In a big-picture sense, the question I ask myself, and I encourage my students to ask themselves: ‘Would Christ recognize who I am becoming? Is this what a follower of Christ might look like?’” He continues, “Am I working hard because I want something [my colleagues] have: Their publisher? Their agent? Their status? Then that’s more problematic.”

In secular settings, the professor suggests to all students that they monitor their priorities: “When you start practicing law, you have to think about your moral compass: Do you recognize the person you’re becoming?”

Mr. Skeel, a longtime member of Tenth Presbyterian Church in Philadelphia’s Rittenhouse Square neighborhood, is married, with two grown sons and a new grandchild. He augments the big-picture reflection with a daily habit of “confession of sin” as part of his morning devotional time. He reads the Bible in order, from a text that omits the usual chapter and verse notations, making the story feel more vivid to him.

Scripture in the back of a van

It was the Bible that made a believer out of Mr. Skeel. Not raised in a religion, he grew frustrated as a literature major at the University of North Carolina because he didn’t understand the scriptural references he encountered at every turn. He began reading the Bible in the back of a van one summer during a cross-country road trip. “I was convinced it was true before I got through Genesis,” he says. The Scripture was so powerful to him, he recalls, “it revealed myself to myself.”

Back at school, a fraternity brother asked him at a party, “You don’t actually believe that stuff, do you?” Mr. Skeel responded, “I do believe it,” and from that moment, though his college student persona might have belied it, he was a man transformed.

Professionally, Mr. Skeel is “very careful about the lines” between the religious and the secular, but he’s never felt the need to hide his Christianity, and his faith is no secret at Penn Law. He assumed he’d get pushback some years ago when he proposed a course about Christianity and the law. He found, instead, that his viewpoint was welcomed at the law school. Among his many writings is a book about faith: “True Paradox: How Christianity Makes Sense of Our Complex World.”

Robert Thrasher, a former student now practicing law in New York City, says Mr. Skeel is esteemed at the law school for his work and beloved for his engaging and generous personality. “One thing that was encouraging to me was the way in which he was able to excel in his industry as a scholar, and [at the same time] incorporate his faith into his leadership,” Mr. Thrasher says. “When you merge these two together, it makes quite an example of a Christian leader.”

Though he cautions against directly taking policy from Scripture, the principles of Mr. Skeel’s faith challenge his scholarship. He thinks about forgiveness of debt from both a literal and spiritual perspective. He sees in the Old Testament concept of jubilee (Leviticus 25) possible relevance to modern bankruptcy law. And he finds unavoidable questions, though not necessarily answers, in the numerous scriptural references to those who are poor.

Puerto Rico expertise

In 2016, President Barack Obama named Mr. Skeel to the Puerto Rico Oversight, Management, and Economic Stability Act (PROMESA) board established that year by federal law to deal with the Puerto Rican debt crisis. “It was, by a wide margin, the biggest, single greatest privilege of my professional career,” he says. “I had been thinking and writing about Puerto Rico issues for 30 years. It was an extraordinary opportunity to use the ideas I usually think and write about to help solve the problem.”

The week of his appointment, his pastor happened to speak about the biblical Esther, and her cousin Mordecai’s famous challenge: “Maybe you have been put in this position for just such a moment as this,” he recalls, paraphrasing Esther 4:14. Listening, the new appointee thought, “Maybe that’s speaking to me.” In the three years since, the heady moment of appointment has passed, the task has become more complicated than anticipated, and the board is now seen as the “bad guys” on the island of Puerto Rico, with its very legitimacy now in the hands of the United States Supreme Court.

Still, Mr. Skeel is buoyed by the success of other such oversight boards, giving him hope that his will also ultimately succeed. Meanwhile, Esther’s own ultimate success, and the virtues of patience and hope that her story illuminates, remain with him. The professor, as is his wont, has a little reflection for his Christian law group students. This month’s talk, on his PROMESA experience, is titled “An Esther Moment?”

Part 1: The Commandments as a moral source code in modern life

Part 2: How does the First Commandment fit in today?

Part 3: ‘I have to have humility’: How Second Commandment helped man find freedom

Part 4: One woman embraces Third Commandment in feeding 1,600 at Thanksgiving

Part 5: ‘Remember the sabbath’: How one family lives the Fourth Commandment

Part 6: ‘Growing up is hard’: How Fifth Commandment guided a child during divorce

Part 7: Is saying ‘I’d kill for those shoes’ OK? One woman and Sixth Commandment.

Part 8: Is chastity old-fashioned? An NFL veteran’s take on Seventh Commandment.

Part 9: ‘Thou shalt not steal’: Even someone else’s joy, says one educator

Part 10: ‘Thou shalt not bear false witness’: Ninth Commandment goes to Princeton

Part 11: Jealousy at Ivy League level: How a law professor views Tenth Commandment

Vahid Salemi/AP/File

A man works on his cell phone at an internet cafe in Tehran, Iran.

For many people scam robocalls may be no more than a minor nuisance, the price of being part of an ever-more-connected world. 

But for a more vulnerable minority these calls can result in real harm. Older Americans, in particular, are being targeted with impostor calls claiming to be from government agencies, most often the Social Security Administration. They’re told their account has an urgent problem. Unwittingly people give out sensitive information about themselves. 

Nearly 73,000 people reported these impostor scams in the first six months of 2019, the Federal Trade Commission reported, resulting in some $17 million in losses to individuals.

Robocalls to U.S. phones numbered 48 billion in 2018, according to YouMail, a robocall blocking service. The 2019 total is expected to be much higher, perhaps near 60 billion.

While listing a phone number on the federal government’s Do Not Call Registry will filter out some sales calls from the legitimate businesses that abide by it, criminal scammers ignore it.

But help is on the way. The United States House and Senate have each passed a bill, with strong support from both sides of the aisle, that clamps down on robocall scammers. While it’s far from a perfect or lasting solution, it’s a worthwhile step in the right direction. The legislation is expected to be signed into law by President Donald Trump.

Robocalls often arrive displaying fake telephone numbers that use area codes and exchanges similar to those of a person’s friends or family. That can entice the person being called to answer. 

Among the provisions in the Telephone Robocall Abuse Criminal Enforcement and Deterrence Act is a system called STIR/SHAKEN that identifies when the displayed phone number and the real number of origin don’t match. The Federal Communications Commission will also be able to levy fines of up to $10,000 per call on scammers, and it will no longer have to first issue a warning to the scammer before taking action, speeding up enforcement.

The legislation also addressed “one ring” scams in which the robocall rings just once and disconnects. These mysterious calls cause some people to call the number back, only to be hit with expensive overseas long-distance fees.

Not all automated calls are evil. Some can be from legitimate, even welcomed sources, such as a local government or utility providing emergency information, or a business giving an update about a real purchase. Efforts to stamp out bad actors must make sure these calls still get through.

Eliminating robocall scams altogether may take years to accomplish, coordinating the efforts of government agencies and phone companies. Until then, the last line of defense will always lie with the consumer. 

People can block calls from obvious scammed numbers. But the most effective deterrent is the simplest: If a number isn’t familiar, don’t pick up. Any legitimate caller can just leave a message.