If you had Texas listed as the biggest shiathole state... come and collect your prize. Here are the 10 states with the poorest quality of life States with the poorest quality of life are mainly clustered in the South. https://thehill.com/vertical_post/4773324-10-states-poor-quality-life-report/ CNBC released its ‘America’s Top States for Business’ report, which considers quality of life in its ranking. The states with the poorest quality of life in 2024 are Texas, Indiana and Alabama, according to the report. Texas’ anti-LGBTQ legislation, restrictive abortion policy and poor healthcare are all reasons it has the worst quality of life, according to the ranking. Texas is the state with the worst quality of life, according to data from CNBC’s America’s Top States for Business report. As part of the study, CNBC considers states’ quality of life as one of their 10 categories of competitiveness used to rank states. CNBC uses multiple factors like crime rates, health care, air quality and child care when determining quality of life of each state. Texas came in as the state with the worst quality of life, in part, due to its poor healthcare. The Lone Star State has one of the lowest primary care provider-to-patient ratios in the country, with 182 primary care providers per 100,000 residents, according to the United Health Foundation. The state has one of the lowest primary care physician-to-patient ratios with 64.4 per 100,000, according to the Bureau of Health Workforce. Texas also has the highest percentage of people without health insurance. In 2022, about 22 percent of Texans did not have health insurance, according to The Commonwealth Fund. On top of this, 19 percent of Texas had some sort of medical debt in 2021, 6 percentage points higher than the national average and 17 points higher than the state with the lowest percentage of residents with medical debt, according to The Commonwealth Fund. Texas has few legal protections against discrimination and worker protection policies, contributing to its low quality of life ranking. “Texas is another state with no public accommodation law barring discrimination against non-disabled people; it has passed a barrage of laws targeting the LGBTQ+ community; and its abortion ban is the strictest in the nation,” CNBC wrote. The minimum wage in Texas is $7.25 an hour—about 20 percent lower than an hourly rate that would cover the cost of living for a family of four, according to an Oxfam America report. And if a Texan loses their job, the state’s unemployment benefits cover 10.5 percent of the income needed to cover the cost of living. Here are all the states with a poor quality of life, according to the report: Texas Indiana Alabama Oklahoma Arkansas Tennessee Missouri Louisiana Kansas Arizona
Commie Majorie Taylor Greene once talked about her research of some of the states with the poorest quality of life. Many states on the current list were on her list when Trump was President. I think she was trying to show how well her state Georgia was doing in comparison to other states in America. Regardless, Texas has consistently been tops on the list of Worst States for Quality of Life. One would think they would get tired of being on the list and do something about it. I remember they made big plans to fix some issues in Obama's last year of office... Something went wrong after that. wrbtrader
The states with the poorest qualities of life are those with crime ridden liberal cities. Poor quality of life has nothing to do with LGBQRSTUVWXWZ or any of that ridiculous bullshit. Millions of people are leaving California for Texas.
LOLZZZLOL, but you’ve decided to live in Fresno? Please tell me this a joke. Talk about a shit-hole. Hot much lately?
Yeah, whatever. California seeing a sizable influx of new residents relocating from Texas https://www.cbsnews.com/sanfrancisc...nflux-of-new-residents-relocating-from-texas/ More Texans moving to California, data shows https://www.foxla.com/news/more-texans-moving-to-california-us-census-bureau-data-shows Don’t mess around with Texas — just move back to California https://thehill.com/opinion/finance/563572-dont-mess-around-with-texas-just-move-back-to-california/ Texans are moving to California more than residents of any other state https://www.chron.com/culture/article/how-many-texans-move-california-18509867.php California leads as state where Texans are moving from https://www.kxan.com/news/texas/rep...exans-are-moving-from-and-also-relocating-to/ Thousands of Texans are moving to California as states trade residents https://www.mysanantonio.com/news/local/article/texas-california-migration-18508989.php
This is how a bubble ends: not with a bang, but a discount. It's begun. We're not ready. Alex Steffen Jul 16, 2024 A resident holds a sign asking drivers to slow down to limit wakes that worsen flooding in a suburb of Houston, Texas (U.S. CBP photo by Glenn Fawcett) I’ve been talking about the brittleness bubble — the widespread and growing over-valuation of brittle assets, and their certain repricing as climate risks are acknowledged — since 2002. Now we are seeing the beginning of its end. Over the next five years (ten at most) we’ll see it rip through exposed communities, shredding hundreds of billions of dollars of paper wealth and leaving in its wake something like the Subprime Crisis, topped with eroded streets, downed bridges, killer heat waves and mass-migration. Houston is America’s bellwether. J. David Goodman is reporting what’s going on there right now, in the aftermath of Hurricane Beryl. It’s tense. His piece ‘This Storm Has Broken People’: After Beryl, Some Consider Leaving captures the feeling of foreboding spreading in climate-battered places around the world; the feeling that what can’t go on, doesn’t. Houston is no stranger to natural disasters, but living through two crippling power outages in two months has driven some in the city to consider what may be the ultimate evacuation plan: moving out. The more powerful of the storms, Hurricane Beryl, devastated the power infrastructure over nearly the entire city. When it hit, thousands of people were already living in shelters and hotels, according to state officials, because they had been displaced by an earlier weather event, the spring thunderstorms that caused wind damage and flooding. Driving around Houston, it can be hard to tell which of the storms that crashed through the city had mangled the highway billboards, torn out the fences or knocked down the trees still strewn along roadsides. Everyone knows how long it took to get their power back from the first big storm — and when they lost it again. A second round of spoiled food. Of sweltering temperatures. Of emergency plans. In many cases, of repairs to homes that were damaged in the major May storm had yet to be finished when Beryl arrived as a Category 1 hurricane. For some, it was too much. People are worried. They’re fearful in a way they haven’t been. That’s because they’re starting to see the world around them as it actually is: a world in the grips of a terrible crisis whose like we’ve never seen before; a world where things no longer work the way things have always worked. The response, predictably, has been a mix of rage, defiance and collapse. Consider these excerpts from Beryl was the weakest a hurricane could be. Why does it feel like Houston isn't the same? by Sarah Smith, in the Houston Chronicle. These lines resonate with the passions and griefs of a city whose sense of its own value (or even habitability) is breaking down. (The same piece also manages to only obliquely mention the climate chaos and unsustainability that are the major drivers of that crumbling stability — Houston, after all, being America’s oil town.) Beryl advances on us Monday, delivering 84 mph punches. Telephone poles topple. Roofs collapse. Buffalo Bayou swells until it kisses the bottom of the tree canopies. Streets drown. The winds roar. Power snaps out. We crouch in our innermost rooms. … We are the fourth-largest city in America. We are the so-called energy capital of the world, and today, we are powerless. The heat index climbs to 105; at least 1.8 million wake up without air conditioning. … None of the disasters that have rolled through in the past decade has been so singularly devastating that we fled en masse. Instead, we strain under the weight of flooded-out cars and warped wallpaper and drenched family photos and chicken turned sour in silent freezers. Our cars get clipped at intersections with broken lights and, as we sit in the repair shop, we wonder: Why are we still here? Some of us are (proudly, foolishly, admirably) H-town till we drown. … Some of us ache with a new knowledge: One day — maybe not now, but one day — we will have to leave this place we love. The lives we envisioned for ourselves here, we worry, cannot hold against what we know will come. We begin to grieve the futures we wanted. That last line is a perfect summary of the tragedy of personal discontinuity. When we come to see that the world isn’t as we were taught to expect it would be, we also see that our own lives aren’t going to be what we dreamed. I’ve spoken with hundreds of people who’ve gone through this loss of cherished hopes. For many, it’s shattering. Now whole cities are going through this experience. Houston won’t be the last. Indeed, the planetary crisis is not yet done with Houston… or the hundreds of other frontline communities around the world. I can tell you what is happening, right now, in places all around the world where reality has slammed through the roof like a fallen tree: a reckoning. Folks are measuring their options, weighing how long they can wait, calculating how much of a loss they can bear, trying to figure out where they might live instead. Does it even make sense to repair our home? Will the insurance cover enough of the cost to be able to sell it, maybe at a discount? Will we even have insurance in a few years? Will the next storm turn this city into a buyer’s market, as more people look to relocate, and homes flood the market — or will it be the storm after that? If we wait a few years, will there still be buyers, and if so will they demand fire-sale prices? What will our town be like, if home prices crash, the economy falters and everyone who can leave has left? Where would we go? Where can we afford to go? Should we leave now, before others start relocating in greater numbers? What will happen to us if we wait too long? Will our kids be able to afford some degree of relative safety? How do we make a path for ourselves and our loved ones, in a world that’s suddenly hard to understand? Millions of us are already wrestling with these thoughts, and discussing these worries with our family and friends. These thoughts are starting to take form, in “For Sale” signs, moving trucks and GoFundMe campaigns for relocation expenses. This is only the beginning. A lot of us will take less than we thought we could expect, out of fear that if we wait, we’ll get far less than that. We’ll offer our old lives up on a discount, hoping to fund new ones before time runs out. And that is how the bubble ends. https://substack.com/home/post/p-146683314
This is similar quote from each article you posted While California is still seeing a net loss of residents per year to Texas, the data shows the number of Texans coming to California is increasing.