Many of us have witnessed unusual and even anti-social behaviour at an airport or on a flight. These may range from benign acts such as sleeping on the floor or doing yoga in front of the flight information display system to serious incidents like early morning drunken arguments or even trying to open the aeroplane doors mid-flight.
These more sinister problems appear to have worsened over recent years, with increasing air rage incidents and flight diversions. Such incidents have led to calls to reduce or even ban the sale of alcohol at airports and on planes. RyanAir, for example, has called for a two-drink limit at airport bars to stop drunken incidents on planes.
But what is it about airports that make us behave differently? Let’s take a look at the psychology.
Many holidaymakers feel that the adventure begins at the airport, putting them in a different frame of mind to normal. They are eager to begin their one or two weeks’ of relaxed hedonism with a flourish.
Others, however, are anxious about flying, which may make them act out of character or take refuge in alcohol. The noise and crowds of airports doesn’t help either. As the field of environmental psychology has demonstrated, human beings are very sensitive to our immediate surroundings, and can easily become “overloaded” by stressors such as crowds and noise.
Stress and anxiety produce irritability, both on a temporary and ongoing basis. People who are generally anxious are more prone to anger. And a temporary anxious mood often triggers angry outbursts.
In my view, we also need to look at the airport from a psychogeographic perspective. Psychogeography studies the effect of places on people’s emotions and behaviour, particularly urban environments.
In Celtic cultures, there is a concept of special “thin places” – often sacred groves or forests – where the veil between the material and spiritual world is thin. In thin places, we are between two realms, neither fully in one place nor another.
In the modern technological world, airports can also be seen as “thin places”. They are liminal zones where boundaries fade. On a literal level, national borders dissolve. Once we pass through security, we enter a no man’s land, between countries. The concept of place becomes hazy.
In a similar way, time becomes a hazy concept at airports. About to step on a plane, we are in a liminal space between two time zones, about to leap forward in time, or even head back into the past. Some flights across the US – such as Atlanta to Alabama – land earlier than departure time, as they cross time zones. Being able to manage our time gives us a sense of control over our lives. Losing this may be another source of anxiety.
In another sense, airports are a zone of absence, where the present moment is unwelcome. Everyone’s attention turns towards the future, to their flights and the adventures ahead of them when they arrive at their destination. This intense future focus often brings frustration, especially if flights are delayed.
Personal boundaries also become fluid. As well as anti-social behaviour, airports may play host to pro-social behaviour, where strangers share their travel and holiday plans, speaking with unusual intimacy. In no man’s land, normal social inhibitions don’t apply. And alcohol can further lubricate this social cohesion.
Due to the haziness of time and place, airports create a sense of disorientation. We define ourselves in terms of time and place. We know who we are in relation to our daily routines and our familiar environments. We also define ourselves in terms of nationality. Without such markers, we may feel adrift. Whether caused by psychological or environmental factors, and even if only temporary, disorientation can have detrimental effects.
Liberating effects
On the plus side, all of this may have a liberating effect for some of us. As I point out in my book Time Expansion Experiences, we normally view time as an enemy that steals the moments of our lives and oppresses us with deadlines. So to step outside time sometimes feels like being let out of prison.
The same applies to identity. A sense of identity is important to our psychological health, but can become constricting. Like actors who are stuck playing the same character in a soap opera week after week, we enjoy the security of our roles but long to test and stretch ourselves with new challenges. So to step outside our normal routines and environments feels invigorating. Ideally, the freedom that begins at the airport continues throughout our foreign adventures.
Ultimately, whether we feel anxious or liberated, we may end up acting out of character.
In line with the theories of psychologist Sigmund Freud, this could be interpreted as a shift from our normal civilised ego to the primitive, instinctive part of the psyche, which Freud called the id. According to Freud, the id is the site of our desires and drives, our emotion and aggression, and it demands instant gratification. The id is normally held in check by the ego, but is always liable to break through, especially when our inhibitions are loosened by alcohol or drugs.
Outside normal restraints, some holidaymakers allow their id to express itself as soon as they pass through security. And once they become intoxicated, the id is completely dominant, and liable to cause mayhem.
Banning alcohol from airports may sound draconian. But given that there are so many factors that encourage anti-social behaviour, it is difficult to think of any other solution. In a situation when boundaries break down, leading to possible chaos, a legal boundary may be the only hope.
Steve Taylor does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.
Japan, 2009. It is a morning in August and, in a parking lot in Saitama – a regional centre about 30kms north of Tokyo – a rental car is spotted with a man lying in the back seat. His name is Yoshiyuki Oide. But it turns out that he’s not having a quick nap – he’s dead.
The cause of death is carbon monoxide poisoning and is initially thought to be a case of suicide. But the police are not convinced, so they knock on the door of the woman Oide had been dating, 35-year-old Kanae Kijima. This marks the beginning of the investigation into what would become known in the media as the “Konkatsu killer” case. The name derives from konkatsu, meaning marriage hunting.
The investigation uncovered evidence that suggested Kijima had killed three men she met on dating sites. The three deaths were initially considered as suicides but were all deemed to have been staged. The court agreed and Kijima – who has always maintained her innocence – was found guilty in 2012, based on what was widely held to be largely circumstantial evidence, and sentenced to death. The decision was upheld in subsequent appeals, and she is now on death row awaiting execution.
Kijima’s case was similar to the of Chisako Kakehi who died in prison on December 26 2024 while under sentence of death. She had been found guilty of murder and fraud and given the death penalty after a court found she had entrapped and swindled money from three men (including her husband) before killing them using cyanide.
But there was also a distinct aspect to Kijima’s case. From the start much of the media focused on the defendant’s appearance rather than the heinous nature of the crime. Popular forums, newspapers, and magazines buzzed with variations on the same question: how could a woman described as “ugly and fat” manage to attract these men?
There was speculation that her success lay in her “homely” qualities – the stereotype of chubby women being cheerful, nurturing and excellent cooks. It was suggested that men might prefer such a woman’s warmth and hospitality over a stylish woman’s “air of superiority”.
In Japan, when somebody is sentenced to death, they tend to disappear from the public eye. But Kijima maintained a blog where she detailed her life and relationships – and continued to write on it during and after the trial, probably through her lawyers. She still publishes on various issues: from the kind of cookies available in the detention house to the conditions in the death row, from dietary advice to reflection on the lay assessor trial in Japanese criminal procedure.
The media eagerly mined her posts to reinforce stereotypes about gender roles and appearance, but Kijima pushed back. She has sharply criticised the focus on her looks and gender over the legal evidence, using her reflections to spotlight these biases.
Telling the story
Novelist Asako Yuzuki took inspiration from Kijima’s case to create a fictional narrative for her novel Butter. It’s a story in which a journalist covering the story of a woman murderer is sucked into her swirling obsession with butter and indulgent food, exposing fat-phobia and sexism in Japanese society.
The fictionalised account of the case challenges steretypes about Japanes women. google/books
Kijima, who has published a memoir and a novel of her own, expressed her deep discontent with the publication of the novel on her blog: “What Yuzuki and the publisher are doing is nothing short of theft. If they interfere with external communication rights, they are not just thieves but complicit in murder. They continue to use my name without permission … I truly think it’s a vulgar book, BUTTER.”
But, when I interviewed her, Yuzuki insisted that she was interested in the implications of her case, in how Japanese media often sensationalises stories, rather than the details of the crime.
Japanese media … often reflect the perspective of powerful men. … This realisation was a turning point for me. Until then, I hadn’t really questioned much or paid close attention to politics or media bias. But when it came to something I love – cooking – it struck a nerve.
Stereotypes and social expectations
In her book, Yuzuki questions some deep-seated Japanese stereotypes – particularly around women and cooking. She says that the concept of “marriage hunting” is still popular in Japan, and women who love cooking are often labelled as “domestic” or “obedient”.
But, in her experience, someone passionate about cooking is far from submissive. On the contrary, cooking is powerful, and a woman skilled in the kitchen could just as easily harm someone as she could nourish them. “There’s a fine line between nurturing and dangerous precision,” she told me.
Social media has become a powerful tool for activists and writers like Yuzuki to connect with others and amplify their voices. She has joined other authors in advocating for marginalised groups, including sexual minorities, highlighting the intersectionality of issues such as gender, class, and criminal justice.
The Kijima case, through the facts, her blog posts from prison, and through the work of writers including Yuzuki, invites a deep reflection on the weight of societal expectations on gender and appearance. Beyond the question of guilt or innocence, it illustrates how female criminals are judged not only for their actions but for defying norms of femininity.
This dual scrutiny aligns with historical biases in Japan, where women who challenge societal norms are often framed as dangerous outliers. Kijima’s portrayal as an unconventional femme fatale evokes the 19th-century “poison women” trope – known as dofuku. This casts women as destructive forces who upend the lives of those around them.
The severity of Kijima’s punishment — the death penalty was not used at all in 2023 and only once in 2022 — seems designed to deliver exemplary justice. In the minds of many Japanese people she was guilty not only of murder but of manipulating societal expectations of femininity while failing to conform to conventional standards of beauty and behaviour.
The case has reinforced the narrative that her transgressions extended beyond the courtroom and into the realm of societal betrayal.
Martina Baradel would like to thank author Francesca Scotti for her help in researching this article, and author Asako Yuzuki for the interview.
Antidepressants can be useful for treating a wide range of conditions.Kmpzzz/ Shutterstock
Antidepressants are typically prescribed to manage depression. But this isn’t the only reason you may be prescribed an antidepressant. In fact, they can have a broad range of effects, which makes them suitable for managing a range of other health conditions that aren’t necessarily related to mental health.
Here are five health conditions you may be prescribed an antidepressant for.
1. Chronic nerve pain
Many antidepressants are believed to work by increasing the levels of chemicals in the brain called neurotransmitters – although the exact science is still unknown. In particular, they increase levels of serotonin and noradrenaline, which are linked to mood.
These neurotransmitters are also linked to pain pathways. It’s for this reason that some people who experience nerve pain may be prescribed a tricyclic antidepressant – such as amitriptyline and nortriptyline.
Studies show that low doses of these drugs may be effective in treating nerve pain. This pain is often described as a shooting, burning pain, which may radiate outwards.
Sometimes patients also experience tingling and numbness. This type of pain is typically caused by nerve damage. Nerve pain can occur in people with diabetes (diabetic neuropathy), trigeminal neuralgia (facial pain) and multiple sclerosis.
Studies show these antidepressants are more likely to relieve nerve pain compared to traditional painkillers such as ibuprofen or paracetamol. Duloxetine is another antidepressant that may be used.
Antidepressants may also be helpful in managing urinary incontinence (unintentionally passing urine) and stress incontinence (passing urine when there’s pressure on the bladder from coughing, jumping, laughing or sneezing).
In clinical trials of the antidepressant duloxetine (a serotonin noradrenaline reuptake inhibitor, or SNRI), the drug is shown to be useful in treating severe urinary incontinence in women. However, duloxetine is usually only prescribed by a specialist as a second-choice treatment after surgery.
An SNRI is typically only prescribed as a second-line treatment option for incontinence. CrizzyStudio/ Shutterstock
In children who experience bedwetting (nocturnal enuresis), studies show a tricyclic antidepressant, such as imipramine, may be used. Similarly to duloxetine, this is only used if other treatments have been unsatisfactory.
Imipramine may help with bedwetting as it relaxes the bladder muscle so children are less likely to release urine.
3. Eating disorders
Bulimia is an eating disorder characterised by purging (for example, making themselves vomit) and binge eating. As it’s a complex mental health disorder, the first-choice treatment is psychotherapy. But fluoxetine, a selective serotonin reuptake inhibitor (SSRI), is the only antidepressant licensed for bulimia. It’s normally prescribed alongside psychotherapy if psychotherapy by itself hasn’t worked.
A small study showed that fluoxetine was more effective than a placebo in treating some bulimia symptoms. It’s unclear what the exact mechanism is, but some research suggests fluoxetine reduces depressive symptoms which may be associated with bulimia in some patients – making it easier for them to engage in psychotherapy.
4. OCD, panic and anxiety disorders
Antidepressants may also be useful for treating other mental health conditions – including obsessive-compulsive disorder (OCD), panic disorder and generalised anxiety disorder.
The exact mechanism that enables antidepressants to work for these conditions is unknown. But it may be due to the increase in serotonin levels or changes in brain pathways which regulate mood, anxiety and compulsions.
5. Menopause
Although antidepressants are not licensed for this condition, they are sometimes used to treat menopausal symptoms.
Several studies show the SSRIs paroxetine and citalopram and the SNRI venlafaxine can help women. In particular, they reduce the frequency and severity of hot flushes – one of the most common menopause symptoms women seek help for. One review found that hot flushes can be reduced by up to 65% when using these antidepressants.
In menopause, a woman’s oestrogen level drops. This is a hormone that stimulates the production of serotonin. But some studies suggest the lower levels of serotonin may be linked to hot flushes. This may explain why antidepressants are useful in managing hot flushes as they are thought to increase serotonin levels in the brain.
Hormone replacement therapy (HRT) is the most effective option for managing menopause symptoms such as hot flushes. But antidepressants may be useful for women who are unable to use HRT. But as there is limited research on using antidepressants to manage menopause symptoms, more studies will be needed.
For many of these conditions, antidepressants are the last treatment option. But for some, such as those with nerve pain, antidepressants are the most effective options. Antidepressants may not work for everyone – and they may cause side-effects in some people. This is why it’s important to talk with your pharmacist or doctor if you have questions about taking an antidepressant you’ve been prescribed.
Dipa Kamdar does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.
This article was first published as World Affairs Briefing from The Conversation UK. Click here to receive this newsletter every Thursday, direct to your inbox.
Hundreds of thousands of civilians returned to the northern Gaza Strip this week after checkpoints were reopened in line with the ceasefire agreement. Many will have found their homes destroyed after months of heavy fighting and bombardment – something the new US president, Donald Trump, has pointed out.
In an exchange with reporters last weekend, Trump said: “I’m looking at the whole Gaza Strip right now and it’s a mess, it’s a real mess.” He then went on to suggest Palestinians there should be “evacuated” to Egypt and Jordan where “they could maybe live in peace for a change”. “You’re talking about a million and a half people … we just clean out that whole thing,” he continued.
Trump is seemingly no stranger to airing whatever thoughts come into his head. At his inauguration he claimed – without providing evidence – that “China is operating the Panama canal”. And he has since called Vladimir Putin’s war in Ukraine “ridiculous”. But even by these standards, his suggestion to evict Gazans from their land is brash to say the least.
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As Karin Aggestam of Lund University reports, Trump’s proposal has been met with disbelief across the Middle East. It has been widely criticised throughout the region as a potential “second Nakba” – referring to the displacement of Palestinians after Israel’s unilateral declaration of statehood in 1948.
The proposal has also been rejected outright by Egypt and Jordan. Egypt’s ministry of foreign affairs released a statement on Sunday objecting to any forced displacement of Palestinians. And Jordan’s minister of foreign affairs, Ayman Safadi, said his country was committed to “ensuring that Palestinians remain on their land”. The Arab League regional bloc has accused Trump of advocating ethnic cleansing.
Aggestam says it’s not yet certain if moving Palestinians out of Gaza will become an official US policy position, or whether it is yet another example of Trump speaking his mind. But, in her view, Trump’s latest pronouncement will further complicate the already fragile ceasefire.
The idea of relocating Palestinians to other countries has thrilled Israel’s extreme ultra-nationalist parties. The Israeli finance minister and leader of the Religious Zionist party, Bezalel Smotrich, and the former national security minister, Itamar Ben-Gvir, have both previously encouraged the return of Israeli settlers to the Gaza Strip.
Ben Gvir, who recently resigned from his ministerial position in protest at the Gaza ceasefire, asserted in October that “encouraging emigration” of Palestinian residents of Gaza would be the “most ethical” solution to the conflict.
According to Leonie Fleischmann of City, University of London, the pair share an anti-Arab ideology and a messianic belief in the Jewish people’s right to what they call “Greater Israel”. This refers to a Jewish state that would also include the West Bank, which they referred to as “Judea and Samaria”, as well as Gaza and part of Jordan, Lebanon, Egypt, Syria, Iraq and Saudi Arabia.
As Fleischmann explains, the West Bank and the Gaza Strip were the sites of many key events in biblical times and were the home of a number of Israelite kingdoms. In the Bible, God even promises this land to the descendants of Abraham – the Jewish people. This, Fleischmann writes, is the reason behind Smotrich and Ben Gvir’s belief that the Jewish people have the God-given right to settle the whole of Greater Israel.
This is not a position held by the majority of Israelis. But Israel’s ultra-nationalists wield considerable political power, with Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu’s government dependent on their support to remain in power. Indeed, days after Trump suggested clearing out Gaza, Smotrich spoke of turning it into an actionable policy.
Speaking with reporters on Monday, he said: “There is nothing to be excited about the weak opposition of Egypt and Jordan to the plan. We saw yesterday how Trump [imposed his will on] Colombia to deport immigrants despite its opposition. When he wants it, it happens.”
The events Smotrich was referring to in Colombia were certainly extraordinary. Outraged at the repatriation of Colombian migrants in military planes, Colombian president Gustavo Petro refused to allow the flights to land.
Trump immediately vowed tariffs on Colombian goods and sanctions on government officials, which drew a furious social media response out of Petro and the start of a (very brief) trade war. But within a few hours, Petro had backed down and Colombia announced it would start receiving migrants, including on US military aircraft.
The White House hailed the agreement as a victory for Trump’s hardline immigration strategy. However, according to Amalendu Misra of Lancaster University, Trump’s punishing tariff threats and foul rhetoric toward illegal immigrants may only damage the power and position of the US in the region.
His willingness to wage a trade war with countries in Latin America could encourage others to speed up their search for alternative trade partners. And, worse still, he may even push them towards closer relations with governments and ideologies that are inimical to US interests, writes Misra.
Back in the Middle East, the ceasefire in Gaza has offered the region a break from war. This has included a pledge by Houthi militants in Yemen not to attack commercial ships travelling through the Red Sea.
These attacks have halved the number of ships passing through the Suez Canal, a crucial route for goods moving between Asia and Europe, with many diverting around the southern tip of Africa.
This route adds thousands of miles to the journey, so supply chains have had to deal with higher shipping costs, product delivery delays and increased carbon emissions. In the view of Gokcay Balci, a logistics expert at Leeds University, this disruption is likely to continue.
The situation in the Red Sea remains unpredictable, he writes. The leader of the Houthis, Abdul-Malik al-Houthi, said on Monday that the group was “ready to return to escalation again alongside our brothers, the fighters in Palestine”, and warned: “We have our finger on the trigger.” Shipping companies have, unsurprisingly, announced that they will continue to prioritise alternative routes.
The Houthis seem unconvinced that the ceasefire in Gaza will hold. But, at least for now, it is providing civilians with some much-needed respite after more than a year of relentless violence.
On Jan. 27, 2025, the Trump administration ordered a freeze on federal grants and contracts covering a wide array of aid programs to take effect at 5 p.m. the following day. This freeze was partially prevented when a judge responded to a lawsuit filed by the National Council of Nonprofits and other organizations. The flow of funds on grants that had already been awarded was at least temporarily protected by the judge’s action. The attorneys general of 22 states and the District of Columbia have also sued to block this funding freeze.
Dyana Mason and Mirae Kim, two scholars of nonprofits, explain the role that federal funding plays in the nonprofit sector.
How much do nonprofits rely on federal funding?
Nonprofits partner with the government to deliver social services, such as child care for low-income families, housing for people experiencing homelessness, and job training and placement. These partnerships can form with local or state governments, as well as with the federal government, with this collaboration mostly taking place through grants and contracts.
Government funding makes up about 33% of the revenue flowing into the nonprofit sector annually, according to the Urban Institute. The institute, a think tank, also found that nearly 40% of all nonprofits in the United States applied for federal grants in 2021, 2022 and 2023, and that about 10% applied for federal contracts. The share of government funding can be far larger for some kinds of social service nonprofits.
Many other nonprofits applied for local and state grants during that three-year period. Those grants, however, are often themselves funded by the federal government indirectly through grants it makes to state and local government agencies. Those agencies, in turn, then provide grants or maintain contracts with local nonprofits to provide services.
Although it’s hard to track with absolute precision due to those complex arrangements, government revenue is the second-largest source of income for nonprofits after the money these organizations and institutions earn through commercial activities.
Also called “fee-for-service,” this revenue includes the money nonprofit hospitals get when patients and insurers pay medical bills, nonprofit theaters receive when they sell tickets to performances, and nonprofit private schools obtain when parents pay tuition.
Some social service nonprofits charge fees too, typically on a sliding scale. That is, their clients with relatively higher incomes pay more, and those with extremely low incomes pay very little or nothing at all.
How could freezing federal funding affect nonprofits?
We have no doubt that a long freeze on federal grants and contracts would be devastating for nonprofits and the communities they serve.
For example, Meals on Wheels, a program that delivers hot meals to more than 2 million homebound people over 65 and helps them maintain social connections, gets 37% of its funding from the federal government.
Clackamas Women’s Services, a domestic and sexual violence organization based near Portland, Oregon, is one of the many local organizations that have expressed concern about what to expect. The group says it could lose half of its annual budget if federal funding were to be eliminated.
Without federal funding, organizations like these – many of which already have waitlists – would have to cut back on the services they provide.
Nonprofits are confused and concerned about the stability of federal funding, Scripps News reports.
What’s the role of nonprofits in the US safety net?
This arrangement typically provides nonprofits with a reliable and predictable source of funds that they can use to serve their communities. But it can also leave them vulnerable to policy changes – especially when new administrations take over, as the second Trump administration’s actions illustrate.
Research we conducted about what happened to nonprofits during the COVID-19 pandemic showed that volatility in the economy has serious effects on the ability of nonprofits to do their work.
For example, social service nonprofits struggled in March and April 2020 due to falling revenue at a time of increasing demand. Many of these organizations had to scale back their services. In some cases, they canceled them.
Nearly half of the nonprofits told us that they had, in addition, received other forms of emergency funding from the federal government, including Economic Injury Disaster Loans and emergency food distributions.
This federal assistance made it possible for thousands of nonprofits to keep their staff employed and continue to provide important services as the economy recovered.
What happens when nonprofits lose federal funds?
It’s hard for social service organizations to replace federal funding.
Nonprofits can, of course, appeal to their donors to help bridge the gap. But donations from individuals, foundations, corporations and bequests only amount to no more than 15% of the funds flowing into the nonprofit sector.
The outcome of freezing, eliminating or scaling back federal funding for nonprofits would mean that those in need would get fewer services. We would also expect mass layoffs, which could harm the U.S. economy.
Nonprofits employ more than 12 million people in the United States. That’s more workers than big industries such as construction, transportation and finance employ. Should millions of them suddenly become unemployed, demand would grow further for social services from providers already unable to meet lower levels of demand due to funding cuts.
Has there ever been upheaval like this before?
Congress appropriates money to provide for the services that the public needs and demands. These moves have led to great fear and uncertainty among organizations that serve people in need in the United States and abroad.
Although it’s not unusual for funding priorities to change from one administration to the next, Donald Trump’s executive orders on international aid and nonprofit grants and contracts that underpin the U.S. safety net are unprecedented.
Dyana Mason has received research funding from the National Institute for Transportation and Communities and the Joint Fire Science Program with the Bureau of Land Management (BLM). She is also a volunteer board member of the Southwest Oregon chapter of the American Red Cross.
Mirae Kim is affiliated with the Association for Research on Nonprofit Organizations and Voluntary Action (ARNOVA) as a non-paid, at-large board member.
Teachers at a school in East Dunbartonshire, Scotland, are planning industrial action – not over pay but the behaviour of their pupils.
It’s not the first time school staff in Scotland have taken this step. Teachers at a school in Glasgow took strike action in 2022 over “violent and abusive” pupil behaviour. A 2024 survey of staff in Aberdeen found that many had experienced violence and more than a third had been physically assaulted.
Pupil behaviour is one factor – among others – severely affecting the wellbeing of teachers, as shown in my recent research with colleagues.
Our national research project on teacher workload is a collaboration between the University of the West of Scotland, Cardiff Metropolitan University and Birmingham City University. We asked 1,834 teachers in primary, secondary and special schools in Scotland to fill out online diaries, logging how they spent their time over one week in March 2024.
Our study found that nearly a quarter of teachers’ lesson time was spent on low-level and serious behaviour interruptions. They spent time dealing with distressed behaviour and incidents of verbal and physical aggression, settling the class and working with pupils on individual plans to help them engage better with school.
In 2023, research commissioned by the Scottish government on behaviour in schools found 67% of teachers experienced general verbal abuse, 59% physical aggression and 43% physical violence between pupils in the week preceding the survey.
On average, our research found that teachers in Scotland worked 46 hours in a typical week. That is 11 more than their contracted hours. The reasons are complex, but we found patterns that repeated regardless of the kind of school teachers were in, their location or their experience. Teachers’ workload intensified when the demands made of them exceed the support and resources available.
Teachers face increased levels of cultural and linguistic diversity in the classroom, as well as rising numbers of children with additional support needs. Schools’ access to specialist support is falling while pupil needs are rising. Child poverty and poor mental health are contributing to increasing social, emotional and behavioural issues.
We found that teachers spent 58% of the non-teaching time in their contracted hours on planning and preparation to meet the diverse needs of their pupils.
The remaining 42% was consumed with administrative activities, data management and reporting, communicating with colleagues, parents and external agencies. These demands left teachers with just 35 minutes a week, on average, for professional learning.
High stress and low job satisfaction are driving people out of teaching. Over 75% of the teachers in our study said they were considering leaving the job prior to retirement.
Inclusive education
Another issue affecting teachers in Scotland is the country’s approach to the education of children with additional needs, which differs from the rest of the UK. The default position in Scotland is that all children should be educated in mainstream schools, unless there is compelling evidence that a specialist setting would better serve a child’s educational needs.
But our research identifies growing disquiet among teachers regarding the capacity of Scotland’s education system to fully support this “presumption to mainstream”.
The number of pupils with recorded additional needs in Scottish schools rose by 84% between 2014 and 2023. In 2024, pupils with additional needs in mainstream classes reached a record high of 284,448 pupils. This is 40% of all pupils – a rise from 28.7% in 2018.
Among Scotland’s 2,445 publicly funded schools, 107 are special schools, down from 133 in 2018. A reduction of 392 additional support needs teachers between 2013 and 2023 means a single teacher may now have a caseload of more than 80 pupils.
Worsening conditions
Unfortunately, the pressure on teachers looks set to increase as funding challenges affect teacher numbers.
Scotland’s 32 councils face an overall total budget gap of £585 million in 2024-25. Audit Scotland estimate that this shortfall in funding will increase to £780 million by 2026-27.
A Scottish National Party 2021 manifesto pledge to recruit 3,500 more teachers and reduce teachers’ contact time remains unfulfilled. In 2023-24, 26 of Scotland’s 32 local authorities reduced teacher numbers while the ratio of pupils to teachers rose.
Pressures are particularly acute in Scotland’s largest local authority, Glasgow, and are set to intensify. In 2024, Glasgow City Council employed 5,492 full time equivalent teachers, compared to 5,725 in 2022. In spring 2024, the city proposed cutting 450 teaching posts over three years as part of an “education service reform” to address a £100 million funding shortfall.
In November 2024, parental volunteer group Glasgow City Parents Group failed to secure a judicial review of the council’s education budget cuts. Reducing the teaching workforce across the city by nearly 10% is unlikely to be without consequence for teachers’ workload and the quality of education.
A resilient education workforce requires highly skilled professionals and a supportive professional environment. As the demands made of teachers intensify, they risk being reduced to institutional “shock absorbers” rather than nurturing leaders of learning.
Systematic reform of the school curriculum, national assessment and school inspection is under consideration in Scotland. But this will take place against a backdrop of service demands and budgetary pressures that are deeply affecting teaching staff. This must be addressed in order to avoid compromising learning in Scottish schools.
Moira Hulme received funding from the Educational Institute of Scotland.
Source: The Conversation – Africa – By Robert Botha, Research Fellow at the Impumelelo Economic Growth Lab. The Impumelelo Economic Growth Lab is a unit of the Bureau for Economic Research (BER), Stellenbosch University
South Africa’s fiscal trajectory paints a concerning picture. Public expenditure exceeds revenue. As a result sovereign debt is building up and interest on this debt is increasing.
This raises concerns over the South African government’s financial sustainability. The debt-to-GDP ratio has skyrocketed from 23.6% in 2008/09 to a projected 74.7% in 2024/25. The International Monetary Fund has recommended that, over the long term, South Africa should reduce its debt-to-GDP ratio to 60% of GDP, in line with that of peers.
Arguably more important than the debt level is how quickly debt has accumulated. Debt servicing costs, which consist of the interest on government debt and other costs directly associated with borrowing, have been the fastest-growing line item in the national budget. Rising interest payments have been crowding out critical expenditures on services such as health, education and infrastructure.
As I argue in a recently published report titled “A fiscal anchor for South Africa: Avoiding the mistakes of the past”, establishing a credible fiscal anchor (or fiscal rule) could be step towards avoiding a debt spiral and regaining fiscal sustainability and credibility.
Fiscal rules are constraints on fiscal policy, designed to impose numerical limits. For example, a limit on the allowable debt-to-GDP ratio, or the allowable balance after accounting for government expenditure and revenue. Fiscal rules are widely used – 105 countries have adopted them so far.
Failing to address the country’s fiscal challenges risks plunging South Africa into a debt trap. This happens when a country finds it difficult to escape a cycle of debt and has to borrow more to pay off old debt. If debt-servicing costs continue to rise, essential public services will come under even greater strain.
Several emerging markets have experienced the severe consequences of unchecked debt accumulation and debt servicing costs. Argentina is one example. Without a credible plan to stabilise and reduce debt and debt servicing costs, the risk of economic stagnation and financial instability grows quickly.
Fiscal erosion and credibility concerns
The roots of South Africa’s current predicament lie in years of mistakes. These include:
spending beyond its means
questionable political decisions like bailing out state-owned entities
poor governance and oversight at municipal and local government level, which led to inefficient public spending.
These factors were underpinned by an underperforming economy, unrealised forecasts and arguably weak institutional checks.
For the last 15 years South Africa’s National Treasury has undertaken to stabilise the country’s debt-to-GDP ratio. This would have required keeping the ratio constant. But these commitments have consistently been deferred. Debt stabilisation targets have been revised upwards 13 times, from 40% in 2015/16 to the current 75.5%. The stabilisation year has been pushed back 10 times, from the initial year of 2015/16 to the current target of 2025/26. This has created a perception of inconsistent policy.
Over-optimistic macroeconomic forecasting has undermined credibility. Over the last ten years, GDP growth projections have routinely overshot actual performance by an average of 0.5 percentage points in the first year of forecasts and even more in subsequent years. In defence of the National Treasury, the South African economy has performed worse than more forecasters expected in recent years.
Adding to the fiscal strain are rising social expenditures, the public sector wage bill and repeated bailouts of state-owned enterprises. This spending relieves short-term political and social pressures, but undermines the country’s long-term fiscal health.
Without credible mechanisms to constrain spending, South Africa’s fiscal framework lacks the discipline needed to ensure sustainability, and to restore credibility.
Why fiscal rules matter
Fiscal rules are there to promote discipline, ensure that debt can be paid and enhance credibility. The experience in the 105 countries that have adopted them suggests that strong, well-designed rules can signal a government’s commitment to fiscal prudence.
It’s difficult to establish whether there is a causal relationship between fiscal rules and fiscal performance. But there’s at least a correlation. As a practical example of enforcing fiscal rules, in November 2023, the German constitutional court overruled a budget that was passed in the Bundestag but breached Germany’s fiscal rules.
However, fiscal rules are not a panacea. Poorly designed or inadequately enforced rules can make the problems worse. For South Africa, this risk is acute.
Political commitment and strong institutional frameworks are needed too. Also, a shift in how fiscal policy is conceived and implemented.
Designing new rules
Drawing lessons from global best practices, South Africa’s fiscal rules must be enforceable, flexible and simple. A well-designed rule should:
stabilise and eventually reduce the debt-to-GDP ratio
target government spending as a share of GDP, emphasising consumption spending like salaries and goods and services, rather than capital expenditure
have political buy-in
be overseen independently
be legally binding and enforceable.
Context
South Africa’s low economic growth rate is a complication. Average interest rates on government debt are higher than the nominal GDP growth rate. But reining in spending too much could stifle growth, creating a vicious cycle.
That’s why stabilising debt first would make more sense than aiming to reduce debt too rapidly.
South Africa’s fiscal rules must also have some flexibility. For instance, they could allow for shocks such as natural disasters or global economic crises.
Fiscal rules could follow a phased approach to initially focus on stabilising debt, and then to move towards reducing debt. Both of these phases would entail expenditure rules to guide annual budget processes and to place limits on spending.
The benefits
Credible fiscal rules could have a number of benefits.
Firstly, they could improve South Africa’s credibility by signalling to markets and international institutions that South Africa is committed to fiscal discipline.
Secondly, fiscal credibility is associated with reduced sovereign risk premiums, which translates into lower debt-servicing costs. In turn this would free up resources for critical development priorities.
Third, they can foster a more stable economic environment for investment and growth.
Fourth, they would help coordinate policies. South Africa enjoys rule-based monetary policy in the form of inflation targeting but lacks the same for fiscal policy. This can lead to sub-optimal outcomes. For example, the central bank can keep interest rates too high, not necessarily because it thinks the treasury’s policies are inflationary, but because it cannot predict the treasury’s actions.
The way forward
Adopting fiscal rules in South Africa comes with risks. Weak institutional capacity, especially in oversight bodies like the Parliamentary Budget Office, could undermine rule enforcement.
To shield against these risks, South Africa should have stronger institutions. It could create an independent statutory fiscal council, possibly falling under Parliament, the National Treasury or as an independent constitutional advisory body.
Oversight bodies would also need to build their capacity.
Robert Botha is a Research Fellow at the Impumelelo Economic Growth Lab. The Impumelelo Economic Growth Lab is a unit of the Bureau for Economic Research (BER)
The sound of a skateboard trick communicates a world of sensory information to skateboarders. The power of “skatesound” – the noises of the board and the environment it comes into contact with – is so distinct because it relates to an experience that is both heard and felt.
Despite the sound of skateboarding frequently being an issue of public complaint, many skaters find it therapeutic, calming and a source of joy.
The visually spectacular activity of skateboarding is often presented as an exciting, iconoclastic pursuit. Despite its inclusion in the last two summer Olympics, it remains sub-culturally distinct. Some skateboarding practices are perhaps even arcane and cult-like in their reverence for banal concrete steps and metal benches.
Research my colleagues and I conducted argues that the niche world of skateboarding endures because of its dense sensory culture – one that is heard and felt by skateboarders.
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For skateboarders, skatesound is an augmented experience of the world multilayered with insights about the body, movement and the texture of the city.
Imagine the skateboard itself as an amplifying tool, one that gives fine and detailed information about terrain, efficacy and possibility. It is as if the skateboard is an extended sensory appendage, to feel and hear the world at large.
Our research in skateboarding highlights new areas of consideration. One of the most distinct issues relates to how skateboarders have a dynamic understanding of skateable urban spaces that are unknown to other street denizens.
‘Relaxing’ skateboarding sounds videos rack up thousands of views on YouTube.
What skateboarders hear is also what they feel – the sound of the pavements or office plazas becomes part of their sensory world. Skateboarders can hear the sound of a skateboard and be aware of not just the environment it is being ridden through, but also the embodied experience, “the feel” of it for the rider.
One middle-aged Canadian skateboarder told us that when she heard the sound of someone skateboarding it both gave her joy and a sense of connection to the rider. Sound might therefore tell us something of the shared community and bond skaters report. They connect with each other because they share such a wealth of specialised knowledge.
Skaters say they feel excited when they hear the sound of someone else skateboarding. Tanner Vote/Unsplash
The paradox of skatesound is that skateboarders are able to hold both opposing notions simultaneously. We collected numerous accounts of skateboarders deliberately avoiding certain locations and times so as not to disturb, startle and annoy other city users. Yet, their own experience of hearing skatesound unexpectedly while at work, or in the street below at home, was always met with excitement.
A universal among skateboarders is what we have termed the “head whip” – the immediate instinctual turn of the head to seek out the origin of skatesound. The association of this sound was reported as an invitation to adventure, a feeling of fraternity with an unseen but clearly heard member of the tribe.
A surprising feature of our research was that several participants reported some form of neurodiversity, either being on the autism spectrum or having ADHD. The sensory experience of skateboarding, of feeling what you see and hear, was reported in positive terms as a way to calm sometimes overpowering senses.
For these skaters, skatesound has become part of a full-body connecting experience engaging the physical, mental and emotional with the board and the world at large. It represents some form of craft and mastery of the chaos of everyday life.
For the past 15 years, the A-Skate foundation provided skateboarding opportunities for children on the autism spectrum in recognition of these therapeutic processes. A range of therapists worldwide are incorporating elements of skateboarding into their support of people’s needs, spanning anxiety to learning disabilities.
The art of skateboarding
Bridging the gap between skateboarder and non-skateboarder, artist Max Boutin’s Texturologies art installation (2022) enables those curious about the sensory world to get a no-risk taster.
Using dynamic sound, large visual screens and static boards that pulse with the skatesound being played underneath, Boutin’s art offers a sensory experience of the skateboarder’s unique relationship to urban space. As a consequence, hearing like a skateboarder becomes one of the simplest ways to feel like a skateboarder.
Boutin’s work advocates for the specific knowledge embedded in the act of skateboarding. It speaks of those who find joy and revelry in often neglected and unloved urban realms that have lost their enchantment to a public chaperoned endlessly into spaces of consumption.
As contempt for the city deepens, skatesound can allow us to feel our urban spaces in new ways.
Paul O’Connor does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.
The AI revolution is well under way and two companies – DeepSeek and Nvidia – stand out among those competing to lead it. Outside the financial world, the story might seem distant – but it really does have consequences for everyone. It comes down to why investors are paying so much attention to AI, and how this competition could affect the technology we use daily.
Developments in AI investment will shape the capabilities of the next generation of apps, smart assistants, self-driving technology and business practices.
DeepSeek, the new player on the scene, is a Chinese company that has been making huge waves in AI development. Its powerful technology could change things such as healthcare, finance – and even the way we interact with the internet. Investors are excited because they see DeepSeek as a potential leader in shaping the next generation of AI tools.
Meanwhile, Nvidia has long been a giant in AI hardware, producing the graphics processing units (GPUs, or chips) that power many AI applications. However, the rise of DeepSeek has made some investors rethink their bets, leading to a sell-off in Nvidia shares, and wiping almost US$300 billion (£242 billion) off the company’s value.
Why does this matter? To put it simply, the AI race isn’t just about corporate profits. The technology developed by companies such as DeepSeek and Nvidia is what powers voice assistants, recommendation systems on streaming platforms, self-driving car software and even medical breakthroughs. As investment flows into AI, it means that innovation could become more advanced and accessible – much faster than we previously expected.
When investors hear about a new company like DeepSeek making big advances, they often react by shifting their investments. This is what happened with Nvidia. Some investors sold their shares, fearing that DeepSeek might take away some of Nvidia’s dominance in AI. This does not necessarily mean the company is struggling – only that markets move based on expectations, rather than just current success.
Speculation – where investors accept uncertainty and high risks in return for potentially big returns – plays a key role in these shifts. Investors do not always wait for solid proof that a company will succeed, instead they often act based on excitement, predictions or just fear of missing out. This can cause rapid changes in stock prices, even before new technology is widely available.
Speculation can sometimes lead to instability, but it also helps to drive innovation. When investors put money into AI companies, it allows those companies to develop technology that could improve people’s daily lives. This has happened before – during the dotcom boom of the 1990s, investment rushed into internet startups. While many companies failed, others like Amazon and Google became global leaders.
Similarly, cryptocurrency investment surged in the past decade. While the hype led to many failures, blockchain technology – one of its key innovations – has since become a major part of modern finance and security systems.
Is it a bubble?
With so much excitement around AI, some experts worry that the industry is experiencing a speculative bubble. A bubble happens when investors pour money into a sector too quickly, driving up prices beyond their real value. This happened in the early 2000s with the dotcom crash that followed the boom years of the previous decade. Many internet companies received huge investments, but when they failed to deliver on their promises markets crashed.
Could the same happen with AI? It’s possible – but unlike some past bubbles, AI is already being widely used in everyday life. The key question is not whether AI is important, but whether current investments reflect realistic long-term growth or over-optimistic speculation.
The sell-off of Nvidia shares does not necessarily mean it is losing its place in AI. Instead, it could reflect investors trying to hedge their bets, moving some of their money to newer companies such as DeepSeek while still keeping Nvidia in their portfolios.
In other words, investors are looking into the potential “next big thing” (Chinese e-commerce giant Alibaba, for example, is touting a new AI model that claims to be superior to those of DeepSeek and Meta). Savvy investors often shop around like this to spread risk to avoid relying too much on a single company to bring them returns.
Beyond Nvidia and DeepSeek, there is a larger global race for AI dominance. Countries, including the United States, China and some European states, are investing heavily in AI research because they recognise how much power and influence this technology could bring. Governments are funding AI initiatives, and businesses are pouring resources into being the first to create groundbreaking AI systems.
But while speculation and innovation drive growth, regulation is needed to prevent market and financial instability. The history of economic crashes shows that unchecked hype can lead to over-investment and eventual collapse. Regulators need to ensure that AI companies and investors operate responsibly, balancing growth with stability.
For example, regulators should provide clear AI investment guidelines, endorse transparency around the financial risks of investing, and be on the lookout for possible AI investment bubbles. Importantly, they should also introduce consumer protection policies to shield retail (non-professional) investors. And they should encourage international cooperation around regulation, working towards common principles.
The battle between DeepSeek and Nvidia is a sign of how AI is transforming the world. Investors, regulators and everyday consumers all have a stake in how this technology develops. While financial speculation can be unpredictable, it is also one of the driving forces behind the innovation that’s shaping the future.
Daniele D’Alvia does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.
Satellite-derived Earth observation (EO) data helps researchers like me unlock new insights into monitoring both environmental and human health.
I’m working with the European Space Agency’s EO4Health Resilience project to integrate information about different types of disease into one digital platform. Due to launch in summer 2025, this project aims to improve accessibility to EO data for medical professionals, support more informed decision-making in public health and hopefully prevent more deaths from disease in the future.
Environmental and animal health are both closely linked to human health. Climate change has a huge influence on these connections, as it can make disease outbreaks such as the 2003 Sars virus and the recent H5N1 bird flu more likely.
By increasing the chance of human-wildlife contact, disruptions like deforestation can increase the risk of disease (like COVID-19) transferring from wildlife to people. Many other factors beyond medicine also determine health, such as sanitation, water supply and farming practices.
The World Health Organization adopted the One Health approach to inspire a joint response to health threats by connecting efforts by veterinary, public health and environmental sectors.
At a time when governments are struggling to come to grips with the growing costs of healthcare, avoiding outbreaks of infectious diseases is crucial. So, the importance of identifying and monitoring areas of high risk, and of communicating the means of avoiding risks to the public rise to the fore.
Satellite data can improve environmental and human health monitoring for three different categories of disease:
1. Waterborne diseases
There is growing concern about the impact of climate change and human migration. This intensifies the global spread of major bacterial waterborne infectious diseases. EO technology plays a key role in tracking climate change by monitoring big areas over long periods, often in enough detail to spot changes clearly.
Many bacteria, like Vibrio cholerae which causes cholera, thrive in stagnant water. My team worked with the European Space Agency to show that its presence can be modelled using the concentration of chlorophyll found on the surface of bodies of water. Chlorophyll is the green pigment in plants that helps them use sunlight to make their food and grow.
Risk maps for an entire lake can be created using satellite-derived chlorophyll data. Zoonotic diseases that spread from animals to humans such as leptospirosis (a disease caused by Leptospira bacteria) have an animal origin, but reach humans through contaminated floodwater in cities.
Bacteria such as Escherichia coli are often present in sewage pollution and can cause of diarrhoea and gastrointestinal illness. These infections typically occur through activities like drinking or swimming in contaminated water.
A recent study predicts that US cases of non-cholera Vibrio infections could rise by 50% by 2090 compared to 1995. That’s because sea surface temperatures are increasing due to climate change and bacterial populations can grow and spread at warmer temperatures. Satellites could help monitor those temperature changes and therefore identify places most prone to outbreaks.
One recent report highlights the value of satellites studying waterborne diseases. The ability to measure and monitor water quality across large areas makes it much easier and quicker to deliver near real-time information.
Harmful blooms of blue-green algae can be spotted from space. Ray Hugo Tang
2. Vector-borne diseases
Vector-borne diseases, such as the West Nile virus and malaria, pose
significant global health threats. They are transmitted by
mosquitoes and can lead to severe neurological diseases. Vector-borne diseases are a leading cause of morbidity and mortality, particularly in tropical regions.
My colleagues in Italy used EO data to unlock new insights about the transmission of West Nile virus. Models based on satellite data that showed temperature, humidity and vegetation – all of which influence mosquito populations and disease transmission patterns – can help forecast the next outbreak.
The malaria atlas is a collaborative project that involves scientists from around the world. By collating EO data, mosquito breeding sites can be mapped, while climate change can be tracked as it affects the habitats that disease-carrying mosquitoes live in. Maps like this enhance the effectiveness of public health strategies by pinpointing where best to focus efforts and resources to control and prevent the spread of these diseases.
3. Non-communicable diseases
Non-communicable diseases, such as cardiovascular diseases
exacerbated by heatwaves, rank among the top global causes of death. Prolonged exposure to extreme heat can strain the heart, increasing risks of heart attacks and strokes. So, isolating locations most at risk of heatwaves could help target aid and reduce the risk of widespread heatstroke and other conditions.
Environmental factors like urbanisation, climate change and air pollution amplify health risks. Several EO projects funded by the European Space Agency use AI and satellite data to map land surface temperatures, greenhouse gas emissions, green spaces, rivers and lakes.
For example, poor air quality caused by high levels of emissions in urban areas can lead to respiratory diseases such as asthma and chronic obstructive pulmonary disease. Long-term exposure to pollutants like fine particulate matter known as PM2.5 and nitrogen dioxide may increase the risks of cardiovascular diseases, lung cancer, and even premature death.
Dhritiraj Sengupta receives funding from The European Space Agency and The Welcome Trust. He is affiliated with the Plymouth Marine Laboratory, Group of Earth Observation (GEO) Aqua Watch, International Geographical Union, and Future Earth-Coasts.
Source: The Conversation – Africa – By Lindy Heinecken, Professor of Sociology in the Department of Sociology and Social Anthropology., Stellenbosch University
The death of South African soldiers on a Southern African Development Community (SADC) mission in the Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC) has sparked fierce debate about the deployment of South African National Defence Force (SANDF) soldiers there. Some, including political parties, have questioned whether the soldiers were adequately trained, equipped and supported. Lindy Heinecken has spent decades researching the South African military in peacekeeping operations and has interviewed hundreds of soldiers about their experiences and the challenges during deployment. We asked her for her insights.
What is South Africa doing in the DRC?
The country is part of the Southern African Development Community Mission in the Democratic Republic of Congo (SAMIDRC), which includes troops from Malawi and Tanzania. This deployment followed approval by the Southern African Development Community in May 2023, in response to the deteriorating security situation in eastern DRC. The South African National Defence Force is leading the mission.
Their mandate is to support the DRC government, a member of the 16-member SADC group, in restoring peace, security and stability. The fact that the mandate states that it is to support the DRC government in combating armed groups that threaten peace and security in the eastern DRC implies that this is not a peacekeeping mission.
The legal basis for the deployment lies in the SADC Mutual Defence Pact, (2003), which states that
Any armed attack perpetrated against one of the States Parties shall be considered a threat to regional peace and security and shall be met with immediate collective action.
The mandate gives them the responsibility to protect civilians, disarm armed groups, and help implement the August 2024 ceasefire agreement between the DRC and Rwanda, brokered by Angola as part of the Luanda Process. This agreement aimed to provide a more secure environment, and protect critical infrastructure to ensure the safe delivery of humanitarian aid. This is in line with the United Nations’ responsibility to protect victims of genocide, war crimes, ethnic cleansing and crimes against humanity.
The M23 rebel group, which is supported by Rwanda, has committed a wide range of atrocities in the eastern DRC which can be traced back to the 1994 genocide.
The impact on civilians has been devastating. While pinning down an exact number is difficult, it’s clear that the rebel forces operating in the eastern DRC, particularly the M23, pose a significant challenge to the stability of the region, and the safety and security of civilians.
The rebels are implicated in mass killings of civilians, rape and other forms of sexual violence and attacks on camps for internally displaced persons. The M23’s atrocities have been condemned by the international community. The United Nations and human rights bodies have called for an end to the violence. They also demand accountability for the perpetrators.
In sum, South African soldiers – alongside Malawians and Tanzanians – are in the DRC to assist the Congolese army in combating the armed groups and to protect civilians from violence and human rights abuses.
Are the soldiers adequately prepared and equipped?
Many questions have been asked about whether South African troops on the mission forces are adequately trained and equipped.
Critics claim this deployment is suicidal.
South African soldiers are well-trained and have served in numerous peace operations. Their extensive deployment means that they have accumulated valuable experience. They have been part of the UN Stabilisation Mission in the DR Congo, Monusco, almost since inception in 1999.
Monusco forces are still present in the DRC, but in the process of withdrawing. Congolese president Félix Tshisekedi requested they leave because of their perceived ineffectiveness.
The combination of budget cuts, resource limitations, and the complex nature of the conflict raises questions about the South African National Defence Force’s ability to effectively achieve its objectives, and ensure the safety of its personnel.
The force takes its own equipment on missions to ensure it is self-sufficient and can meet its specialised needs. The problem is that this equipment is old, leading to shortages due to maintenance problems. This affects the force’s ability to carry out its duties.
Budget cuts for defence over the years, to less than 1% of GDP compared to the global average of 2%, have severely affected the military’s ability to maintain equipment, conduct training exercises and modernise its force. This has led to a decline in overall readiness.
South African troops in the DRC lack essential resources, including adequate air support, attack helicopters and modern equipment. This limits their ability to respond quickly to threats and provide close air support for ground troops.
Despite having one of the most capable air forces in Africa, it is unable to deploy its Gripen and Rooivalk helicopters because they have not been serviced and lack spare parts.
The use of older equipment has also been less effective against the well-equipped M23.
Besides being outgunned, the regional mission is also out-manned.
The SADC mission in the DRC was authorised to have 5,000 troops from Malawi, South Africa and Tanzania. The actual deployment has fallen far short of this number. As of late January 2025, only about 1,300 troops had been deployed.
There are concerns in the DRC about the presence of multiple foreign forces, given the relative ineffectiveness of these interventions.
There are also questions about the legitimacy of the mission. Rwanda has opposed the deployment, saying that the SAMIDRC, and specifically South Africa’s involvement, undermines regional unity and cooperation.
The best approach to peace and stability in the DRC requires a concerted effort by regional actors – the DRC, Rwanda, Uganda, Burundi, Kenya and the Southern African Development Community – to address the underlying causes of the conflict. This requires political dialogue with the regional actors, the UN, the international community and, most importantly, the Congolese people.
As for South Africa, it is time for some critical reflection on the future roles of its military. The equipment shortages and challenges it faces raise serious concerns about the defence force’s ability to carry out its core mandate of protecting South Africa, its territorial integrity and its people in accordance with the constitution.
The tragedy in the DRC highlights the dire need for the South African National Defence Force to be redesigned, modernised and funded to become more effective and capable, ready to meet the immediate challenges it faces (like ageing equipment) and ensure the security of South Africa.
Lindy Heinecken does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.
Source: The Conversation – UK – By Louise Ashley, Senior Lecturer in Sociology of Work, Queen Mary University of London
Donald Trump’s inauguration was marked by a doubling down against programmes of diversity, equity and inclusion (DEI). Among the executive orders he signed during his first days as US president, two were targeted at DEI. The focus was on federal government but the intention appears to be that this should also extend to other American workplaces. And it comes as Meta and Amazon are also retreating from diversity programmes.
In Trump’s directive, DEI is said to undermine “traditional American values of hard work, excellence, and individual achievement” in favour of an “identity-based spoils system”. But the move dismayed many workers. It doesn’t just seem regressive, but it also appears to make poor business sense – advocates argue that attention to diversity and inclusion can offer higher performance and profits.
Trump appears to believe DEI offers unfair advantages on the basis, for example, of gender or ethnicity. But an alternative view could be that DEI is a necessary response to a situation where certain groups (often men, typically white, and generally from privileged backgrounds) have benefited from unearned advantages to maintain their grip on power.
Here, DEI is a response to the idea that simply belonging to these traditionally advantaged groups can be perceived as “talent”. This comes at the expense of typically marginalised groups, who are subject to discrimination and unconscious bias. From this perspective, hostility to DEI might be seen as a way for the traditionally privileged groups to remain dominant.
Both sides are apparently in favour of merit as the ultimate goal, although they have different views on what this means and how it is achieved. This suggests a paradox.
But is there any reason to worry about the widespread use of DEI? Based on my research with firms in the City of London, I think the answer is yes (though for very different reasons than the president suggests).
This raises the question of what (or whose) purpose corporate commitments to DEI actually serve. Common sense would suggest that a primary function is to ensure people can access positions that would previously have been closed off to them.
Yet it is also worth remembering that where, for example, more women become corporate lawyers or senior financiers, this has no bearing on wider inequalities in society. In fact, in a further paradox, my research has found that some of the organisations most likely to express their commitment to DEI are also implicated in generating these inequalities.
I researched diversity and inclusion practices in elite financial and professional service firms. These firms have played a key role in orchestrating a form of “rentier capitalism”, where small elites control the means of generating wealth. This system has much wider detrimental effects, as where wealth is increasingly concentrated towards the top, one consequence is stagnating incomes for the middle and working classes. This in turn drives insecurity and widens the wealth gap.
Legitimising a broken system
This, of course, is not the fault of people working in these firms. But overall this system desperately needs legitimacy. This is more difficult when senior jobs at the centre of this model of “financialised capitalism” are mostly taken by those from historically privileged groups. Put simply, it makes them look bad.
One way they can ensure legitimacy is to shout about their commitment to DEI. This can help suggest that the system is merit-based, as access to these “top jobs” seems fairly distributed while rewards appear justly deserved. Most recently, these impressions have been generated by a vocal commitment among these organisations to promoting “social mobility”.
Opening access to a wider demographic, while good for the organisation and individual staff, has no impact on underlying inequalities. Yet in practice, these measures lack some efficacy. In fact, by offering an impression of change in terms of who occupies the top jobs, DEI can help legitimise and sustain an unequal status quo.
This matters for everyone because the ramifications can spread beyond the workplace. As wealth trickles up and populations grow frustrated that systems are not becoming fairer, the messages of the populist right can hold more appeal.
Trump’s objection to DEI is very different. For him, DEI is a convenient tool in the culture wars.
Yet this leads to the current situation, where conservatives like Trump loudly reject what might be considered a conservative agenda (in that the old economic order remains unchanged). It can all start to feel like a disorientating hall of mirrors.
I am not suggesting, as Trump is, that governments and employers should abandon DEI. This would certainly represent a backward move. But while measures to improve inclusivity in organisations remain important and worthwhile, this should not be seen as a substitute for much wider structural change.
Perhaps the most urgent challenge for government is tackling wealth inequality as a source of legitimate grievance. This more radical change in direction might even make reactionary and potentially harmful policies – like Trump’s take on DEI – less alluring to voters.
Louise Ashley does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.
How can universities build better relationships with the communities around them? Academia is increasingly considering this question. And finding innovative ways to demonstrate value and connect with wider society.
This was on my mind when I learnt about a fascinating collaboration between the police and aspiring, young filmmakers at the University of Sunderland, which shows the power of research as a tool for public good.
I world for Universal Impact, The Conversation’s commercial subsidiary, and recently travelled to the northeast to give a training course to University of Sunderland researchers on how to identify, and communicate with, different audiences for their work.
Whenever we work with academics, I’m reminded of the quality and diversity of research taking place all around us – stretching, in this case, from preventing liver damage to boosting performance in modern pentathlon.
We built on the training course with a mentoring programme for a group of researchers including Adelle Hulsmeier, who leads the university’s screen performance BA programme.
I’m a bit of a movie buff. So I was interested to learn about the unique initiative Adelle runs, bringing together young people and police around an unexpected common ground – film.
Here’s how it works. Northumberland Police suggests themes, students make short films inspired by those themes, and the films are then used as education and training resources.
Like many of my favourite directors, Adelle believes it’s possible to address some of the most pressing social issues through storytelling.
A new approach
The project comes as public trust in the police is in decline, particularly among members of Gen Z (broadly, those born between 1996 and 2010).
Children and young people are also disproportionately affected by crime, often as victims of the most serious offences. But these films offer an opportunity to change the narrative.
And as the Labour government is proposing “respect orders” to address the UK’s 6.7 million annual offences — which cost taxpayers £58.9 billion in 2023-24 — this novel approach seems particularly timely.
Over the past 11 years, more than 1,000 students have worked on at least 50 films, covering topics such as sexual exploitation, domestic violence, male rape and “county lines” drugs trafficking.
The films’ influence extends far beyond the university. They have been integrated into training programmes for police officers, healthcare workers, teachers and other professionals.
Community engagement
The collaboration was born of a desire to make issues of crime and policing widely accessible, with Adelle striving to bridge the gap between academic learning and societal impact.
In 2019, the project received the Collaborative Award for Teaching Excellence from Advance Higher Education, recognising the initiative’s outstanding contribution to education and community engagement.
The programme has also been praised by former Labour MP and Victims’ Commissioner Dame Vera Baird, who described the films as an effective way for the police to “transmit messages in a way that we cannot”.
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Meanwhile, the project is also an opportunity for students to develop critical skills and gain invaluable industry experience.
By empowering students to tackle real world social issues, the University of Sunderland is not only preparing them for the future but also helping to shape a safer, more empathetic world.
This partnership is a testament to the mutual benefits that come from universities and public sector organisations working collectively towards common goals that support their local communities.
At Universal Impact, we offer specialist training, mentoring and research communication services – donating profits back to The Conversation, our parent charity. If you’re a researcher or research institution and you’re interested in working together, please get in touch – or subscribe to our weekly newsletter to find out more.
On 27 December last year, astronomers using the ATLAS survey telescope in Chile discovered a small asteroid moving away from Earth. Follow up observations have revealed that the asteroid, 2024 YR4, is on a path that might lead to a collision with our planet on 22 December 2032.
In other words, the newly-discovered space rock poses a significant impact threat to our planet.
It sounds like something from a bad Hollywood movie. But in reality, there’s no need to panic – this is just another day living on a target in a celestial shooting gallery.
So what’s the story? What do we know about 2024 YR4? And what would happen if it did collide with Earth?
A target in the celestial shooting gallery
As Earth moves around the Sun, it is continually encountering dust and debris that dates back to the birth of the Solar system. The system is littered with such debris, and the meteors and fireballs seen every night are evidence of just how polluted our local neighbourhood is.
But most of the debris is far too small to cause problems to life on Earth. There is far more tiny debris out there than larger chunks – so impacts from objects that could imperil life on Earth’s surface are much less frequent.
The most famous impact came some 66 million years ago. A giant rock from space, at least 10 kilometres in diameter, crashed into Earth – causing a mass extinction that wiped out something like 75% of all species on Earth.
Impacts that large are, fortunately, very rare events. Current estimates suggest that objects like the one which killed the dinosaurs only hit Earth every 50 million years or so. Smaller impacts, though, are more common.
On 30 June 1908, there was a vast explosion in a sparsely populated part of Siberia. When explorers later reached the location of the explosion, they found an astonishing site: a forest levelled, with all the trees fallen in the same direction. As they moved around, the direction of the fallen trees changed – all pointing inwards towards the epicentre of the explosion.
The Tunguska event flattened trees over an area of around 2,200 square kilometres. Leonid Kulik / Wikimedia
In total, the Tunguska event levelled an area of almost 2,200 square kilometres – roughly equivalent to the area of greater Sydney. Fortunately, that forest was extremely remote. While plants and animals were killed in the blast zone, it is thought that, at most, only three people perished.
Estimates vary of how frequent such large collisions should be. Some argue that Earth should experience a similar impact, on average, once per century. Others suggest such collisions might only happen every 10,000 years or so. The truth is we don’t know – but that’s part of the fun of science.
The explosion, about 30 kilometres above the Earth’s surface, generated a powerful shock-wave and extremely bright flash of light. Buildings were damaged, windows smashed, and almost 1,500 people were injured – although there were no fatalities.
It served as a reminder, however, that Earth will be hit again. It’s only a question of when.
Which brings us to our latest contender – asteroid 2024 YR4.
The 1-in-77 chance of collision to watch
2024 YR4 has been under close observation by astronomers for a little over a month. It was discovered just a few days after making a relatively close approach to our planet, and it is now receding into the dark depths of the Solar system. By April, it will be lost to even the world’s largest telescopes.
The observations carried out over the past month have allowed astronomers to extrapolate the asteroid’s motion forward over time, working out its orbit around the Sun. As a result, it has become clear that, on 22 December 2032, it will pass very close to our planet – and may even collide with us.
At present, our best models of the asteroid’s motion have an uncertainty of around 100,000 kilometres in its position at the time it would be closest to the Earth. At around 12,000 kilometres in diameter, our planet falls inside that region of uncertainty.
Calculations suggest there is currently around a 1-in-77 chance that the asteroid will crash into our planet at that time. Of course, that means there is still a 76-in-77 chance it will miss us.
When will we know for sure?
With every new observation of 2024 YR4, astronomers’ knowledge of its orbit improves slightly – which is why the collision likelihoods you might see quoted online keep changing. We’ll be able to follow the asteroid as it recedes from Earth for another couple of months, by which time we’ll have a better idea of exactly where it will be on that fateful day in December 2032.
But it is unlikely we’ll be able to say for sure whether we’re in the clear at that point.
Recent observations of 2024 YR4 – the faint unmoving dot in the centre of the image. ESO, CC BY
Fortunately, the asteroid will make another close approach to the Earth in December 2028 – passing around 8 million kilometres from our planet. Astronomers will be ready to perform a wide raft of observations that will help us to understand the size and shape of the asteroid, as well as giving an incredibly accurate overview of where it will be in 2032.
At the end of that encounter, we will know for sure whether there will be a collision in 2032. And if there is to be a collision that year, we’ll be able to predict where on Earth that collision will be – likely to a precision of a few tens of kilometres.
How big would the impact be?
At the moment, we don’t know the exact size of 2024 YR4. Even through Earth’s largest telescopes, it is just a single tiny speck in the sky. So we have to estimate its size based on its brightness. Depending on how reflective the asteroid is, current estimates place it as being somewhere between 40 and 100 metres across.
What does that mean for a potential impact? Well, it would depend on exactly what the asteroid is made of.
The most likely scenario is that the asteroid is a rocky pile of rubble. If that turns out to be the case, then the impact would be very similar to the Tunguska event in 1908.
The asteroid would detonate in the atmosphere, with a shockwave blasting Earth’s surface as a result. The Tunguska impact was a “city killer” type event, levelling forest across a city-sized patch of land.
Meteor Crater in Arizona is believed to have been created by a 50m metallic meteorite impact around 50,000 years ago. NASA Earth Observatory / Wikimedia
A less likely possibility is that the asteroid is made of metal. Based on its orbit around the Sun, this seems unlikely – but we can’t rule it out.
In that case, the asteroid would make it through the atmosphere intact, and crash into Earth’s surface. If it hit on the land, it would carve out a new impact crater, probably more than a kilometre across and a couple of hundred metres deep – something similar to Meteor Crater in Arizona.
Again, this would be quite spectacular for the region around the impact – but that would be about it.
Living in a remarkable time
This all sounds like doom and gloom. After all, we know that the Earth will be hit again – either by 2024 YR4 or something else. But there’s a real positive to take out of all this.
There has been life on Earth for more than 3 billion years. In all that time, impacts have come along and caused destruction and devastation many times.
But there has never been a species, to our knowledge, that understood the risk, could detect potential threats in advance, and even do something about the threat. Until now.
In just the past few years, we have discovered 11 asteroids before they hit our planet. In each case, we have predicted where they would hit, and watched the results.
We have also, in recent years, demonstrated a growing capacity to deflect potentially threatening asteroids. NASA’s DART mission (the Double Asteroid Redirection Test) was an astounding success.
For the first time in more than 3 billion years of life on Earth, we can do something about the risk posed by rocks from space. So don’t panic! But instead, sit back and watch the show.
Jonti Horner does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.
On 27 December last year, astronomers using the ATLAS survey telescope in Chile discovered a small asteroid moving away from Earth. Follow up observations have revealed that the asteroid, 2024 YR4, is on a path that might lead to a collision with our planet on 22 December 2032.
In other words, the newly-discovered space rock poses a significant impact threat to our planet.
It sounds like something from a bad Hollywood movie. But in reality, there’s no need to panic – this is just another day living on a target in a celestial shooting gallery.
So what’s the story? What do we know about 2024 YR4? And what would happen if it did collide with Earth?
A target in the celestial shooting gallery
As Earth moves around the Sun, it is continually encountering dust and debris that dates back to the birth of the Solar system. The system is littered with such debris, and the meteors and fireballs seen every night are evidence of just how polluted our local neighbourhood is.
But most of the debris is far too small to cause problems to life on Earth. There is far more tiny debris out there than larger chunks – so impacts from objects that could imperil life on Earth’s surface are much less frequent.
The most famous impact came some 66 million years ago. A giant rock from space, at least 10 kilometres in diameter, crashed into Earth – causing a mass extinction that wiped out something like 75% of all species on Earth.
Impacts that large are, fortunately, very rare events. Current estimates suggest that objects like the one which killed the dinosaurs only hit Earth every 50 million years or so. Smaller impacts, though, are more common.
On 30 June 1908, there was a vast explosion in a sparsely populated part of Siberia. When explorers later reached the location of the explosion, they found an astonishing site: a forest levelled, with all the trees fallen in the same direction. As they moved around, the direction of the fallen trees changed – all pointing inwards towards the epicentre of the explosion.
The Tunguska event flattened trees over an area of around 2,200 square kilometres. Leonid Kulik / Wikimedia
In total, the Tunguska event levelled an area of almost 2,200 square kilometres – roughly equivalent to the area of greater Sydney. Fortunately, that forest was extremely remote. While plants and animals were killed in the blast zone, it is thought that, at most, only three people perished.
Estimates vary of how frequent such large collisions should be. Some argue that Earth should experience a similar impact, on average, once per century. Others suggest such collisions might only happen every 10,000 years or so. The truth is we don’t know – but that’s part of the fun of science.
The explosion, about 30 kilometres above the Earth’s surface, generated a powerful shock-wave and extremely bright flash of light. Buildings were damaged, windows smashed, and almost 1,500 people were injured – although there were no fatalities.
It served as a reminder, however, that Earth will be hit again. It’s only a question of when.
Which brings us to our latest contender – asteroid 2024 YR4.
The 1-in-77 chance of collision to watch
2024 YR4 has been under close observation by astronomers for a little over a month. It was discovered just a few days after making a relatively close approach to our planet, and it is now receding into the dark depths of the Solar system. By April, it will be lost to even the world’s largest telescopes.
The observations carried out over the past month have allowed astronomers to extrapolate the asteroid’s motion forward over time, working out its orbit around the Sun. As a result, it has become clear that, on 22 December 2032, it will pass very close to our planet – and may even collide with us.
At present, our best models of the asteroid’s motion have an uncertainty of around 100,000 kilometres in its position at the time it would be closest to the Earth. At around 12,000 kilometres in diameter, our planet falls inside that region of uncertainty.
Calculations suggest there is currently around a 1-in-77 chance that the asteroid will crash into our planet at that time. Of course, that means there is still a 76-in-77 chance it will miss us.
When will we know for sure?
With every new observation of 2024 YR4, astronomers’ knowledge of its orbit improves slightly – which is why the collision likelihoods you might see quoted online keep changing. We’ll be able to follow the asteroid as it recedes from Earth for another couple of months, by which time we’ll have a better idea of exactly where it will be on that fateful day in December 2032.
But it is unlikely we’ll be able to say for sure whether we’re in the clear at that point.
Recent observations of 2024 YR4 – the faint unmoving dot in the centre of the image. ESO, CC BY
Fortunately, the asteroid will make another close approach to the Earth in December 2028 – passing around 8 million kilometres from our planet. Astronomers will be ready to perform a wide raft of observations that will help us to understand the size and shape of the asteroid, as well as giving an incredibly accurate overview of where it will be in 2032.
At the end of that encounter, we will know for sure whether there will be a collision in 2032. And if there is to be a collision that year, we’ll be able to predict where on Earth that collision will be – likely to a precision of a few tens of kilometres.
How big would the impact be?
At the moment, we don’t know the exact size of 2024 YR4. Even through Earth’s largest telescopes, it is just a single tiny speck in the sky. So we have to estimate its size based on its brightness. Depending on how reflective the asteroid is, current estimates place it as being somewhere between 40 and 100 metres across.
What does that mean for a potential impact? Well, it would depend on exactly what the asteroid is made of.
The most likely scenario is that the asteroid is a rocky pile of rubble. If that turns out to be the case, then the impact would be very similar to the Tunguska event in 1908.
The asteroid would detonate in the atmosphere, with a shockwave blasting Earth’s surface as a result. The Tunguska impact was a “city killer” type event, levelling forest across a city-sized patch of land.
Meteor Crater in Arizona is believed to have been created by a 50m metallic meteorite impact around 50,000 years ago. NASA Earth Observatory / Wikimedia
A less likely possibility is that the asteroid is made of metal. Based on its orbit around the Sun, this seems unlikely – but we can’t rule it out.
In that case, the asteroid would make it through the atmosphere intact, and crash into Earth’s surface. If it hit on the land, it would carve out a new impact crater, probably more than a kilometre across and a couple of hundred metres deep – something similar to Meteor Crater in Arizona.
Again, this would be quite spectacular for the region around the impact – but that would be about it.
Living in a remarkable time
This all sounds like doom and gloom. After all, we know that the Earth will be hit again – either by 2024 YR4 or something else. But there’s a real positive to take out of all this.
There has been life on Earth for more than 3 billion years. In all that time, impacts have come along and caused destruction and devastation many times.
But there has never been a species, to our knowledge, that understood the risk, could detect potential threats in advance, and even do something about the threat. Until now.
In just the past few years, we have discovered 11 asteroids before they hit our planet. In each case, we have predicted where they would hit, and watched the results.
We have also, in recent years, demonstrated a growing capacity to deflect potentially threatening asteroids. NASA’s DART mission (the Double Asteroid Redirection Test) was an astounding success.
For the first time in more than 3 billion years of life on Earth, we can do something about the risk posed by rocks from space. So don’t panic! But instead, sit back and watch the show.
Jonti Horner does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.
On Wednesday night US time, a passenger jet and US Army helicopter collided at a low altitude near Ronald Reagan Washington National Airport, and crashed into the the Potomac River.
A total of 60 passengers – including US and Russian champion figure skaters – and four crew were on board the American Airlines flight AA5342 from Wichita, Kansas. Three military personnel were in the chopper, which was conducting a routine training flight. Authorities say no one on board either aircraft survived.
This crash comes just over a month after a passenger jet crashed in South Korea – possibly as a result of a bird strike – killing all but two of the 181 people on board. The two incidents have focused attention on aviation safety around the world.
In the case of the most recent tragedy in the US, technology exists that is designed to help pilots avoid midair collisions with other aircraft. It is known as the Traffic Collision Avoidance System – or TCAS.
So how does it work? And why might it have failed to prevent disaster in this case?
What is a TCAS?
A TCAS is an aircraft safety system that monitors the airspace around a plane for other aircraft equipped with transponders. These are devices that listen for and respond to incoming electronic signals.
The system – also sometimes referred to as an ACAS (Airborne Collision Avoidance System) – operates independently of an external air traffic control system. Its purpose is to alert pilots immediately to nearby aircraft and potential midair collisions.
Since the technology was developed in 1974, it has undergone a number of advances.
The first generation technology, known as TCAS I, monitors what’s around an aircraft. It provides information on the bearing and altitude of any nearby aircraft. If there is a risk of collision, it generates what’s known as a “Traffic Advisory” – or TA. When a TA is issued, the pilot is notified of the threat, but must themselves determine the best evasive action to take.
The second generation technology, known as TCAS II, goes a step further: it provides a pilot with specific instructions on how to avoid a collision with a nearby aircraft or conflict with traffic, either by descending, climbing, turning or adjusting their speed.
These newer systems are also able to communicate with each other. This ensures the advice given to each aircraft is coordinated.
Any aircraft used for commercial purposes must be equipped with a TCAS in accordance with international regulations under what’s known as the Chicago Convention. There are specific provisions under the convention for noncommercial aircraft.
Military helicopters are not subject to the provisions of the Chicago Convention (although they are subject to domestic laws and regulations). And there are reports the military helicopter did not have a TCAS system on board.
Limitations of TCAS at low altitudes
Regardless of whether the military helicopter involved in the crash was fitted with a TCAS, the technology still has limitations. In particular, it is inhibited at altitudes below roughly 300 metres.
The last recorded altitude of American Airlines flight AA5342 was roughly 90 metres. The last recorded altitude of the US military helicopter that collided with the plane was roughly 60 metres.
It is not an accident that a TCAS is inhibited at low altitudes. In fact, this is part of the design of the technology.
This is primarily because the system relies on radio altimeter data, which measures altitude and becomes less accurate near the ground. This could potentially result in unreliable collision-avoidance instructions.
Another issue is that an aircraft at such a low altitude cannot descend any further to avoid a collision.
The site of several near misses
Ronald Reagan Washington National Airport is one of the busiest airports in the United States. Commercial, military and private aircraft share very limited airspace and corridors.
For example, in April 2024, a commercial plane pilot coming into land had to take evasive action to avoid a helicopter that was roughly 100 metres beneath it. In an incident report, the pilot said:
We never received a warning of the traffic from (air traffic control) so we were unaware it was there.
Many people, including Democratic US senator Tim Kaine, pointed to this near miss as evidence of why a plan to allow more flights into Ronald Reagan Washington National Airport should not proceed. Despite this, the plan was approved the following month.
All of this will undoubtedly be examined as part of the investigation by the National Transportation Safety Board into this disaster.
Chrystal Zhang does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.
One of United States President Donald Trump’s more startling claims since taking office for his second term – and there have been many – is his insistence that the US will take control of Greenland.
Both prior to taking office and since, Trump has spoken about a desire for the US to acquire Greenland, an autonomous territory that is part of Denmark. This revives a proposal he floated in 2019, and is now being advanced with serious intent.
Trump’s interest in Greenland is framed around US security. The island is strategically located in the GIUK (Greenland-Iceland-United Kingdom) Gap. The gap gained prominence during the Cold War as an area where Soviet nuclear submarines could operate in the Atlantic Ocean proximate to the US and its NATO partners. Denmark’s limited naval capacity meant these Soviet submarine incursions were uncontested.
Washington has always appreciated the strategic significance of Greenland. It was used during the second world war as a US military staging point due to its relative safety from the European theatre of war and its capacity as a stopover for aircraft to refuel.
Later, during the Cold War, the Thule US Airbase was constructed on its northwest coast, later becoming the Pituffik Space Base.
Trump is particularly concerned about Russian and Chinese ships operating offshore near Greenland in the Arctic Ocean, and with ensuring US access to rare earth minerals on the island.
All of these are legitimate US security and strategic interests. It is often forgotten that the US is an Arctic nation by virtue of Alaska, and Greenland is adjacent to North America.
However, Greenland is not terra nullius ripe for American colonisation. It is recognised as Danish territory. Any dispute over a Danish claim to the island was resolved by an international court in 1933, and since that time Denmark has overseen Greenlandic affairs without challenge. Any suggestion Denmark’s sovereignty over Greenland is contested has no foundation.
While Denmark has been a colonial power, there has been an active process underway to grant the 57,000 Greenlanders increased autonomy from Copenhagen. Home rule has been granted, a legislature has been created, and a road map exists for self-determination that may eventually see the emergence of an independent Greenland.
Seeking to honour the responsibility Copenhagen feels for ushering Greenlanders through this process, Denmark has made clear that Greenland is not for sale.
The most breathtaking aspect of Trump’s Greenland territorial ambitions has been the refusal to rule out the US using economic or military means to acquire it.
This ignores the fact that Greenland is part of Denmark (a NATO member) and that indigenous Greenlanders possess a right of self-determination. Moreover, any use of US military force to take Greenland would be in violation of both the 1949 North Atlantic Treaty on which NATO is founded and the 1945 United Nations Charter.
Respect for territorial integrity was one of foundations on which the UN Charter was built. The intention of the UN’s founders during the San Francisco Conference was to ensure military force could not be used to acquire territory through an act of aggression resulting in the annexation of territory.
Other than Denmark, its Scandinavian neighbours and some NATO members, Trump’s Greenland territorial ambitions have been met with diplomatic silence. What is taking place behind closed doors and in the foreign ministries of US allies and partners can only be imagined.
For Australia, this raises fundamental issues regarding the US alliance. Would Australia be prepared to stand beside the US if it used its economic and military might to acquire Greenland?
Australia has a bipartisan position of both supporting the American alliance and the “rules-based” international order on which the UN is based. AUKUS is founded on these assumptions. Any US economic or military aggression over Greenland may force Australia into making a choice between America or the rule of law.
Donald Rothwell receives funding from the Australian Research Council.
One of United States President Donald Trump’s more startling claims since taking office for his second term – and there have been many – is his insistence that the US will take control of Greenland.
Both prior to taking office and since, Trump has spoken about a desire for the US to acquire Greenland, an autonomous territory that is part of Denmark. This revives a proposal he floated in 2019, and is now being advanced with serious intent.
Trump’s interest in Greenland is framed around US security. The island is strategically located in the GIUK (Greenland-Iceland-United Kingdom) Gap. The gap gained prominence during the Cold War as an area where Soviet nuclear submarines could operate in the Atlantic Ocean proximate to the US and its NATO partners. Denmark’s limited naval capacity meant these Soviet submarine incursions were uncontested.
Washington has always appreciated the strategic significance of Greenland. It was used during the second world war as a US military staging point due to its relative safety from the European theatre of war and its capacity as a stopover for aircraft to refuel.
Later, during the Cold War, the Thule US Airbase was constructed on its northwest coast, later becoming the Pituffik Space Base.
Trump is particularly concerned about Russian and Chinese ships operating offshore near Greenland in the Arctic Ocean, and with ensuring US access to rare earth minerals on the island.
All of these are legitimate US security and strategic interests. It is often forgotten that the US is an Arctic nation by virtue of Alaska, and Greenland is adjacent to North America.
However, Greenland is not terra nullius ripe for American colonisation. It is recognised as Danish territory. Any dispute over a Danish claim to the island was resolved by an international court in 1933, and since that time Denmark has overseen Greenlandic affairs without challenge. Any suggestion Denmark’s sovereignty over Greenland is contested has no foundation.
While Denmark has been a colonial power, there has been an active process underway to grant the 57,000 Greenlanders increased autonomy from Copenhagen. Home rule has been granted, a legislature has been created, and a road map exists for self-determination that may eventually see the emergence of an independent Greenland.
Seeking to honour the responsibility Copenhagen feels for ushering Greenlanders through this process, Denmark has made clear that Greenland is not for sale.
The most breathtaking aspect of Trump’s Greenland territorial ambitions has been the refusal to rule out the US using economic or military means to acquire it.
This ignores the fact that Greenland is part of Denmark (a NATO member) and that indigenous Greenlanders possess a right of self-determination. Moreover, any use of US military force to take Greenland would be in violation of both the 1949 North Atlantic Treaty on which NATO is founded and the 1945 United Nations Charter.
Respect for territorial integrity was one of foundations on which the UN Charter was built. The intention of the UN’s founders during the San Francisco Conference was to ensure military force could not be used to acquire territory through an act of aggression resulting in the annexation of territory.
Other than Denmark, its Scandinavian neighbours and some NATO members, Trump’s Greenland territorial ambitions have been met with diplomatic silence. What is taking place behind closed doors and in the foreign ministries of US allies and partners can only be imagined.
For Australia, this raises fundamental issues regarding the US alliance. Would Australia be prepared to stand beside the US if it used its economic and military might to acquire Greenland?
Australia has a bipartisan position of both supporting the American alliance and the “rules-based” international order on which the UN is based. AUKUS is founded on these assumptions. Any US economic or military aggression over Greenland may force Australia into making a choice between America or the rule of law.
Donald Rothwell receives funding from the Australian Research Council.
Young people’s access to gender-affirming medical care has been making headlines this week.
Today, federal Health Minister Mark Butler announced a review into health care for trans and gender-diverse children and adolescents. The National Health and Medical Research council will conduct the review.
Yesterday, The Australian published an open letter to Prime Minister Anthony Albanese calling for a federal inquiry, and a nationwide pause on puberty blockers and hormone therapy for minors.
This followed Queensland Health Minister Tim Nicholls earlier this week announcing an immediate pause on access to puberty blockers and hormone therapies for new patients under 18 in the state’s public health system, pending a review.
In the United States, President Donald Trump signed an executive order this week directing federal agencies to restrict access to gender-affirming care for anyone under 19.
This recent wave of political attention might imply gender-affirming care for young people is risky, controversial, perhaps even new.
But Australian courts have already extensively tested questions about its legitimacy, the conditions under which it can be provided, and the scope and limits of parental powers to authorise it.
What are puberty blockers?
Puberty blockers suppress the release of oestrogen and testosterone, which are primarily responsible for the physical changes associated with puberty. They are generally safe and used in paediatric medicine for various conditions, including precocious (early) puberty, hormone disorders and some hormone-sensitive cancers.
International and domestic standards of care state that puberty blockers are reversible, non-harmful, and can prevent young people from experiencing the distress of undergoing a puberty that does not align with their gender identity. They also give young people time to develop the maturity needed to make informed decisions about more permanent medical interventions further down the line.
Young people in Australia need a medical diagnosis of gender dysphoria to receive this care. Gender dysphoria is defined as the psychological distress that can arise when a person’s gender identity does not align with their sex assigned at birth. This diagnosis is only granted after an exhaustive and often onerous medical assessment.
After a diagnosis, treatment may involve hormones such as oestrogen or testosterone and/or puberty-blocking medications.
Hormone therapies involving oestrogen and testosterone are only prescribed in Australia once a young person has been deemed capable of giving informed consent, usually around the age of 16. For puberty blockers, parents can consent at a younger age.
Gender dysphoria comes with considerable psychological distress. slexp880/Shutterstock
Can a child legally access puberty blockers?
Gender-affirming care has been the subject of extensive debate in the Family Court of Australia (now the Federal Circuit and Family Court).
In research for my forthcoming book, I found the Family Court has heard at least 99 cases about a young person’s gender-affirming care since 2004. Across these cases, the court examined the potential risks of gender-affirming treatment and considered whether parents should have the authority to consent on their child’s behalf.
When determining whether parents can consent to a particular medical procedure for their child, the court must consider whether the treatment is “therapeutic” and whether there is a significant risk of a wrong decision being made.
However, in a landmark 2017 case, the court ruled that judicial oversight was not required because gender-affirming treatments meet the standards of normal medical care.
Sometimes parents disagree with decisions about gender-affirming care made by their child, or each other.
As with all forms of health care, under Australian law, parents and legal guardians are responsible for making medical decisions on behalf of their children. That responsibility usually shifts once those children reach a sufficient age and level of maturity to make their own decisions.
However, in another landmark case in 2020, the court ruled gender-affirming treatments cannot be given to minors without consent from both parents, even if the child is capable of providing their own consent. This means that if there is any disagreement among parents and the young person about either their capacity to consent or the legitimacy of the treatment, only a judge can authorise it.
In such instances, the court must assess whether the proposed treatment is in the child’s best interests and make a determination accordingly. Again, these principals apply today.
Across the at least 99 cases the court has heard about gender-affirming care since 2004, 17 have involved a parent opposing the treatment and one has involved neither parent supporting it.
Regardless of parental support, in every case, the court has been responsible for determining whether gender-affirming treatment was in the child’s best interests. These decisions were based on medical evidence, expert testimony, and the specific circumstances of the young person involved.
In all cases bar one, the court has found overwhelming evidence to support gender-affirming care, and approved it.
Supporting transgender young people
The history of Australia’s legal debates about gender-affirming care show it has already been the subject of intense legal and medical scrutiny.
If this article has raised issues for you, or if you’re concerned about someone you know, call Lifeline on 13 11 14. For LGBTQIA+ peer support and resources, you can also contact Switchboard, QLife (call 1800 184 527), Queerspace, Transcend Australia (support for trans, gender-diverse, and non-binary young people and their families) or Minus18 (resources and community support for LGBTQIA+ young people).
Matthew Mitchell has a contract with Bristol University Press for a forthcoming book on the legal regulation of gender-affirming hormones for transgender young people in Australia.
On Wednesday night US time, a passenger jet and US Army helicopter collided at a low altitude near Ronald Reagan Washington National Airport, and crashed into the the Potomac River.
A total of 60 passengers – including US and Russian champion figure skaters – and four crew were on board the American Airlines flight AA5342 from Wichita, Kansas. Three military personnel were in the chopper, which was conducting a routine training flight. Authorities say no one on board either aircraft survived.
This crash comes just over a month after a passenger jet crashed in South Korea – possibly as a result of a bird strike – killing all but two of the 181 people on board. The two incidents have focused attention on aviation safety around the world.
In the case of the most recent tragedy in the US, technology exists that is designed to help pilots avoid midair collisions with other aircraft. It is known as the Traffic Collision Avoidance System – or TCAS.
So how does it work? And why might it have failed to prevent disaster in this case?
What is a TCAS?
A TCAS is an aircraft safety system that monitors the airspace around a plane for other aircraft equipped with transponders. These are devices that listen for and respond to incoming electronic signals.
The system – also sometimes referred to as an ACAS (Airborne Collision Avoidance System) – operates independently of an external air traffic control system. Its purpose is to alert pilots immediately to nearby aircraft and potential midair collisions.
Since the technology was developed in 1974, it has undergone a number of advances.
The first generation technology, known as TCAS I, monitors what’s around an aircraft. It provides information on the bearing and altitude of any nearby aircraft. If there is a risk of collision, it generates what’s known as a “Traffic Advisory” – or TA. When a TA is issued, the pilot is notified of the threat, but must themselves determine the best evasive action to take.
The second generation technology, known as TCAS II, goes a step further: it provides a pilot with specific instructions on how to avoid a collision with a nearby aircraft or conflict with traffic, either by descending, climbing, turning or adjusting their speed.
These newer systems are also able to communicate with each other. This ensures the advice given to each aircraft is coordinated.
Any aircraft used for commercial purposes must be equipped with a TCAS in accordance with international regulations under what’s known as the Chicago Convention. There are specific provisions under the convention for noncommercial aircraft.
Military helicopters are not subject to the provisions of the Chicago Convention (although they are subject to domestic laws and regulations). And there are reports the military helicopter did not have a TCAS system on board.
Limitations of TCAS at low altitudes
Regardless of whether the military helicopter involved in the crash was fitted with a TCAS, the technology still has limitations. In particular, it is inhibited at altitudes below roughly 300 metres.
The last recorded altitude of American Airlines flight AA5342 was roughly 90 metres. The last recorded altitude of the US military helicopter that collided with the plane was roughly 60 metres.
It is not an accident that a TCAS is inhibited at low altitudes. In fact, this is part of the design of the technology.
This is primarily because the system relies on radio altimeter data, which measures altitude and becomes less accurate near the ground. This could potentially result in unreliable collision-avoidance instructions.
Another issue is that an aircraft at such a low altitude cannot descend any further to avoid a collision.
The site of several near misses
Ronald Reagan Washington National Airport is one of the busiest airports in the United States. Commercial, military and private aircraft share very limited airspace and corridors.
For example, in April 2024, a commercial plane pilot coming into land had to take evasive action to avoid a helicopter that was roughly 100 metres beneath it. In an incident report, the pilot said:
We never received a warning of the traffic from (air traffic control) so we were unaware it was there.
Many people, including Democratic US senator Tim Kaine, pointed to this near miss as evidence of why a plan to allow more flights into Ronald Reagan Washington National Airport should not proceed. Despite this, the plan was approved the following month.
All of this will undoubtedly be examined as part of the investigation by the National Transportation Safety Board into this disaster.
Chrystal Zhang does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.
As night falls over Australia’s forests, grasslands and backyards, the hidden world of nocturnal insects stirs to life. In many ecosystems, overall insect activity actually peaks at night, especially in warmer regions of the world.
These nighttime creatures play essential roles in ecosystems, providing services such as pollination, waste decomposition, and pest control. Here are some of the remarkable insects that come out after dark – and why they matter.
Moths: the stars of the night shift
While their flashier daytime relatives, the butterflies, often steal the spotlight, moths are the hidden stars of the night shift.
An estimated 22,000 species of moth call Australia home, and most are nocturnal, although some are diurnal (day active) or crepuscular (active at dawn and dusk).
Many species feed on flower nectar using their long, straw-like mouthparts, transferring pollen between flowers as they go.
In the Snowy Mountains, for instance, scientists found moths carry pollen from 19 different plant species.
While some moths feed on a wide variety of plants, others have evolved highly specialised relationships with specific flowers.
For instance, more than 500 species of leaf flower trees (Phyllanthus) across tropical Asia, Africa, Australia, and the Pacific are dependent on tiny leaf flower moths (Epicephala) for their pollination.
The trees’ flowers attract moths by producing nectar at night, when the moths are most active.
The larvae of moths, caterpillars, also play a vital role in ecosystems. For example, the larvae of Mallee moths (Oecophoridae) feed on dry leaves in the leaf litter, making them essential for the decomposition of tough, dry plant material.
Without their tireless work breaking down organic matter, leaf litter can accumulate to problematic levels.
Although most caterpillars feed on plant material, some have unusual diets. Trisyntopa neossophila caterpillars, for example, feeds on the faeces of parrots nesting in termite mounds.
Some caterpillars are even predators. The larvae of the brown scale moth (Mataeomera coccophaga), for instance, eats scale insects.
Once so abundant they famously blanketed the 2000 Sydney Olympics, large bogong swarms have become increasingly rare, putting at risk species that depend on them for essential nutrients.
Busy night beetles
Seeing the tiny, flashing lights of fireflies dancing through the darkness on a summer night is a magical experience.
Fireflies are actually beetles in the family Lampyridae, and 25 species call Australia home.
Each firefly species uses its own distinctive flash pattern to communicate with potential mates.
When large numbers of the same species gather, they can synchronise their light pulses, creating a breathtaking light show.
The fireflies’ distinctive light is produced through a biochemical reaction involving a molecule called luciferin and an enzyme called luciferase. When these interact in the presence of oxygen, they emit light.
Adult fireflies do not eat but firefly larvae mostly eat snails, which helps keep snail populations under control.
Beetles in the scarab family are often active at night. Large numbers of Christmas beetles (Anoplognathus spp) flying around porch lights used to be a common sight, but numbers appear to be in decline.
Some native dung beetles, such as the five-horned dung beetle (Onthophagus pentacanthus), are also nocturnal. Hardworking dung beetles play a vital role by breaking down animal dung, helping to recycle nutrients and improve soil health.
Lacewings and mantisflies
Lacewings belong to an ancient group of insects (Neuroptera) named for the delicate, lace-like net pattern of veins on their wings.
Most adult lacewings are nocturnal predators, feeding on smaller insects using their hollow, scissor-shaped mouthparts to catch and suck the nutrients from their prey.
Several lacewing species are effective pest controllers and are used in agriculture to manage pests such as aphids and mealybugs.
Mantid lacewings, also known as mantisflies, resemble a strange hybrid between a mantis and a fly but are actually in the same group as lacewings.
The larvae of mantisflies are poorly studied, but most species are believed to be predators of insects, although some are predators of spider eggs. By eating other insects, mantisflies may play a role in controlling pest populations.
Protecting these night shift workers
Artificial lights at night are causing serious disruption to insects on the night shift.
Insects often become disoriented, flying in endless circles around bright lights, burning energy they cannot afford to lose. This confusion can lead to exhaustion or death.
Artificial lighting at night can also disrupt nocturnal insect reproduction. And, predators such as owls and bats may learn to hunt around artificial lights where prey becomes more concentrated and vulnerable.
The exact reasons why nocturnal insects are drawn to light remain unclear, but recent research suggests that some nocturnal insects use light to maintain stable, level flight by orienting their bodies so light hits their upper surface.
This system works well when the only lights present at night are the Moon and stars, but fails when artificial lights disrupt the night.
We can help protect nocturnal insects by:
turning off unnecessary outdoor lights at night, especially during summer when many insects are breeding
using motion-activated lights to reduce light pollution
reducing or eliminating the use of insecticides in our gardens.
Small changes can make a big difference to help protect the insects working hard overnight to keep our ecosystems healthy.
Tanya Latty co-founded and volunteers for conservation organisation Invertebrates Australia, is former president of the Australasian Society for the Study of Animal Behaviour and is on the Education committee for the Australian Entomological Society. She receives funding from the Australian Research Council, NSW Saving our Species, and Agrifutures Australia.
Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Sharon McLennan, Senior Research and Teaching Fellow, School of Health, Te Herenga Waka — Victoria University of Wellington
Fiji’s minister of health declared an official HIV outbreak in January, citing 1,093 new cases from January to September 2024 – triple the number from the same period in 2023.
The World Health Organization defines a disease outbreak based on the number of cases being in excess of normal expectations. Similar to an epidemic, an outbreak typically refers to a more limited geographic area.
Declaring an outbreak enables prompt public health response measures and mobilises domestic and international resources to respond to the crisis.
Preliminary Ministry of Health data show half of the newly diagnosed individuals receiving anti-retroviral therapy contracted HIV through injecting drugs.
However, the crisis extends beyond drug use. Increasing urbanisation, homelessness and unemployment, coupled with disconnection from traditional land and culture, contribute to risky health behaviours.
Low HIV awareness and social stigma compound these factors. Many Fijians are reluctant to get tested and, if positive, to receive care. Knowledge of HIV prevention is low: a 2021 survey found less than a third of those aged between 15 and 24 had comprehensive HIV knowledge.
Fiji is a regional hub for education and business, attracting students and economic migrants from across the region. There’s a real risk the virus will spread to other island nations via returning workers and students, potentially undetected for long periods.
Fiji is also a major tourist destination. Unsuspecting visitors, whose fun in the sun extends to drug use or unsafe sexual activities, may be at risk.
There is also a risk of reputational damage for the tourism industry, whose success relies on marketing Fiji as a safe and happy destination. With Fiji still recovering from COVID’s impact on tourism, the new crisis is a major threat.
Fiji is also experiencing significant outward migration (5% net in 2023), mostly to Australia and New Zealand. This raises the risk of virus spread through established migration pathways, including labour mobility policies such as the Pacific Australia Labour Mobility scheme and New Zealand’s Recognised Seasonal Employer schemes.
The HIV surge will be costly for the country and the region. HIV/AIDS strains household finances through lost income and increased healthcare costs, diverts public spending from other areas, with flow-on impacts for national and regional economies.
What is being done to combat the outbreak?
The Ministry of Health’s 90-day HIV Outbreak Response Plan fast-tracks high-impact interventions. These include harm-reduction programs, condom distribution, and prophylactic pre-exposure treatment.
This complements the HIV Surge Strategy 2024–2027, a long-term road map for strengthening Fiji’s health system based on the United Nations’ global “95-95-95” targets: 95% rates of testing, treatment and viral suppression in the population.
However, as the health minister noted, the outbreak declaration “reflects the alarming reality that HIV is evolving faster than our current services can cater for”.
Funding is starting to trickle down to the front lines. For example, with support from Australia and New Zealand, the Fiji Reproductive and Family Health Association is working with experts on awareness, prevention and care strategies to reverse the surge.
Duty of care: Australian Prime Minister Anthony Albanese at the Pacific Islands Forum in Suva, 2022. Getty Images
What can Australia and New Zealand do at home?
Both countries bear particular responsibility and face specific risks. Their domestic drug markets drive regional trafficking, fuelling Fiji’s meth crisis and the HIV outbreak.
Continued support for regional anti-narcotics initiatives is crucial, as is addressing domestic drug demand.
As beneficiaries of Fijian labour migration, Australia and New Zealand also have a duty of care for migrants. This includes education, screening and treatment for Pacific communities, and access to preventive treatments which are currently not funded for migrants in either country.
Finally, tourists and travellers need to be educated about the risks, and take precautions.
The outbreak declaration demonstrates Fiji’s commitment to addressing the crisis but success will require regional cooperation.
Australia and New Zealand are key stakeholders whose domestic policies and support can significantly affect the outbreak’s trajectory, contribute to a unified Pacific response and protect regional public health.
Sharon McLennan gratefully acknowledges the valuable input and guidance of Avendra Prakash (Chair, Reproductive & Family Health Association of Fiji), Dr Akisi Ravono (University of Fiji) and Dr Johanna Thomas-Maude (Victoria University of Wellington).
Sharon McLennan receives funding from the Royal Society Te Apārangi.
If you scroll through YouTube and watch sporting contests from yesteryear, one of the first things you’ll likely notice is how slow the games are compared to modern sports.
Not just the athletes’ speed (or lack of), but the pace of ball movement.
There is no universal definition of game speed, but it is often measured using metrics such as passing rate, ball velocity or average player movement speed during games.
Faster ball and average player speeds have been shown in many field sports including AFL, soccer and basketball.
Faster action followed by longer recovery breaks is the way many sports have evolved over the past few decades.
In National Hockey League ice hockey games, for example, there are around 300 player rotations (shifts) per team. Shift lengths decreased by 7% to about 45 seconds each during a 10-year period to 2010 as the game sped up.
Shorter shifts mean higher game speed before players can recover on the bench.
Spectators report a preference for fast action and seem happy to have this interrupted by longer breaks as players catch their breath.
What about speed in soccer?
I recently studied this phenomenon in World Cup soccer matches. I found passing rates and ball speed were consistently increasing for both men and women over multiple World Cup tournaments.
The study showed passing rates increased by 19% for men and 26% for women across the past nine tournaments. Average ball speed increased by 7% for men and 18% for women over the same time.
It is clear men’s and women’s soccer matches are speeding up.
The benefits of fast attacking play
The need for speed is driven by scoring benefits: if a team can move the ball often and with accuracy, this reduces the time for opposition teams to organise defensively.
Disorganised defensive structures are easier to penetrate, as gaps open among opposition players.
For example, faster passing rates in basketball have been linked to more scoring attempts and baskets scored. This is especially crucial after a turnover, when defences are poorly organised.
Faster play requires quick and precise decision-making, such as perfect timing to move to the best position to receive the ball, or to draw dangerous opposition players away from the action.
This quicker play requires delivering better skills at high speeds, such as catching or trapping the ball on the run. It involves anticipating where to move and when to react with stealth-like movements.
It also involves greater physical fitness and the ability to repeat high-intensity efforts – a fitter player can recover quicker and accumulate less fatigue. This can help the athlete use optimal power and with fewer skill errors.
On top of that, evidence shows player “density” is increasing in many field sports, which both reduces the time to react and mandates superior skills in the congested player traffic.
Accurate passing and precision timing through this crowded space is essential.
Even moving your own body through clogged space requires agility and power. Because of this, much of the training time for professionals is dedicated to games on reduced field space to improve these requirements and to refine decision-making skills.
In elite sport, those who are efficient in these areas generally remain in the sport while others fall by the wayside.
Managers in the English Premier League look for a minimal passing efficiency (finding a teammate with each pass) of 70%. Less than this can have disastrous consequences for the athlete.
Moving offensively with speed means the attacking team is also vulnerable to counterattack if they lose possession: when an attacking team turns the ball over, they, in turn, are out of (defensive) position and vulnerable to quick movement by the opposition.
So knowing when to move fast and when to progress more steadily are also key skills and regularly rehearsed.
Colliding with opposition players involves increased kinetic energy that must be absorbed by athletes’ bodies. This can result in bone fractures and concussion rates that are elevated with fast impact forces.
The increasing speed of sports could have several impacts in the future, namely in the talent identification and player recruitment space, and in women’s sports.
Due to genetic constraints, athletes generally can’t improve their speed as easily as other physical attributes like endurance or strength. This means recruiters are likely to prioritise fast athletes in a spiralling pace race.
In some sports, including our soccer study, the speed of women’s sport was found to be increasing at a faster rate than men’s.
Over a comparatively short history of professional sport, women have demonstrated dramatic and impressive gains. This may mean the speed and style of women’s sports will increasingly resemble the speed and style of the men’s games.
Kevin Norton has received funding from sporting organisations including AFL, NRL, ARU, IRB, ESL.
Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Shelley J. Walker, Postdoctoral Research Fellow in Justice Health, National Drug Research Institute, Curtin University
Many of us have tried to move on quickly from the pandemic, putting lockdowns and restrictions far behind us.
But for some Australians, this hasn’t been possible. Among the pandemic’s lingering impacts is the burden of outstanding fines, issued for breaking COVID restrictions.
Our new research involved surveys and in-depth interviews with people who used drugs during the pandemic. They reported feeling targeted by police and even harassed while trying to access drug treatments – and years later, many still have fines they’re unable to pay.
This is not the case in Victoria. In June 2023, around 30,000 fines were outstanding in Victoria, and to our knowledge the situation hasn’t changed since then.
Feeling targeted
We know that people who use drugs already face increased police scrutiny in general, due to the criminalisation of drug use.
We conduct two long-term studies with people who use drugs in Victoria, which involves participating in an annual survey.
During the pandemic we asked additional questions about people’s interactions with police. Between March 2020 and May 2022, 1,130 participants responded to our survey.
Our new research found one in ten reported being stopped by police.
A third of these received at least one COVID-related fine – mostly for breaking curfews, failing to wear a face mask or breaching travel restrictions – a rate we calculated as nearly three times higher than the general population.
However, this is a crude estimate, as accurate data on the numbers of fines in the general population is not publicly available.
Of those who received fines, most were unemployed, more than a quarter were in unstable housing or homeless, and more than half had been to prison.
We also did in-depth interviews with 76 participants. Many told us they felt the pandemic gave police an “excuse” to target them, leading to serious and lasting effects on their lives.
Fined while accessing services
Interactions with police were described as fraught with discrimination and harassment. Participants reported being stopped, searched and fined while trying to go about their daily lives. This may be partly because their circumstances meant they were more likely to be using public spaces – and therefore were more visible to police.
Daniel, aged 41, was fined $1,652 for breaching COVID rules he told us he didn’t understand. He said:
it was so obvious they were looking for drugs – it felt like they were doing everything they could to find a reason to fine us.
For people who use drugs, accessing harm-reduction services and drug treatment programs (such as methadone to replace opioids) is vital to their health. Some participants told us they were fined while doing so, despite carrying medical exemptions.
Natasha, aged 39, was homeless. She said she was fined while travelling to a needle and syringe program, despite being within the permitted travel zone.
Police issued her a fine for leaving the home for non-essential purposes. Natasha found the situation absurd, asking “how can you be (fined for being) outside if you sleep outside?”
Ryan, aged 45, was fined $1,800 while collecting methadone. He described the encounter as “humiliating” and unnecessary, saying police appeared more interested in finding drugs than enforcing public health measures.
The financial and emotional toll
In our study, the financial burden of COVID fines was devastating.
Most could not afford to pay fines or lacked the confidence to navigate appeals processes to contest them, leading to further entanglement with the criminal legal system.
For example, Sally, who received multiple fines while collecting her methadone during the pandemic, said:
at the end of the day, they’re government authority and I’m a nobody – the chances of me winning would be slim to none.
As a result, unpaid fines for some reportedly led to court orders, some were arrested, and a few even reported serving prison time.
The emotional toll was equally severe, with feelings of being targeted and harassed by police further eroding their trust in public institutions.
The Conversation contacted Victoria Police about our study, noting participants thought police were using the pandemic as an excuse to target them.
In response, a police spokesperson said: “At the time officers were performing duties on behalf of the Chief Health Officer’s direction.”
The burden can be lifted
Public health responses should be designed to protect people, not punish them. As we move forward, it is crucial to address the lasting impacts of COVID fines.
Shelley Walker is the recipient of an ARC Discovery Early Career Award (project number DE240101056) funded by the Australian Government. The study presented in this article was funded by the National Health and Medical Research Council NHMRC (#2003255). The SuperMIX and VMAX studies are funded by the NHMRC; #545891, #1126090, #1148170)
Paul Dietze receives funding from the NHMRC and government and non-government organisations for the conduct of research into the impacts of alcohol and other drug use.
Lisa Maher does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.
In February 1995, a small research organisation known as the SETI Institute launched what was then the most comprehensive search for an answer to a centuries-old question: are we alone in the universe?
This Sunday marks the 30th anniversary of the first astronomical observations conducted for the search, named Project Phoenix. These observations were done at the Parkes Observatory on Wiradjuri country in the central west of New South Wales, Australia – home to one of the world’s largest radio telescopes.
But Project Phoenix was lucky to get off the ground.
Three years earlier, NASA had commenced an ambitious decade-long, US$100 million Search for Extra-Terrestrial Intelligence (SETI). However, in 1993, the United States Congress cut all funding for the program because of the growing US budget deficit. Plus, SETI sceptics in Congress derided the program as a far-fetched search for “little green men”.
Fortunately, the SETI Institute secured enough private donations to revive the project – and Project Phoenix rose from the ashes.
Listening for radio signals
If there is life elsewhere, it is natural to assume it evolved over many million years on a planet orbiting a long-lived star similar to our Sun. So SETI searches usually target the nearest Sun-like stars, listening for radio signals that are either being deliberately beamed our way, or are techno-signatures radiating from another planet.
Techno-signatures are confined to a narrow range of frequencies and produced by the technologies an advanced civilisation like ours might use.
Astronomers use radio waves as they can penetrate the clouds of gas and dust in our galaxy. They can also travel over large distances without excessive power requirements.
As the largest single-dish radio telescope in the southern hemisphere, it is also the natural facility to use for SETI targets in the southern skies.
While Project Phoenix planned to use several large telescopes around the world, these facilities were undergoing major upgrades. So it was at Parkes that the observing program started.
On February 2 1995, Murriyang pointed towards a carefully chosen star 49 light-years from Earth in the constellation of, naturally, Phoenix. This was the first observation conducted as part of the project.
The focus cabin of Murriyang, the Parkes telescope, with the Flag of Earth, much favoured by SETI researchers. CSIRO Radio Astronomy Image Archive, CC BY-NC
A logistical and technological success
Project Phoenix was led by Jill Tarter, a renowned SETI researcher who spent many long nights at Parkes overseeing observations during the 16 weeks dedicated to the search. (Jodie Foster’s character in the 1998 movie Contact was largely based on Jill.)
The Project Phoenix team brought a trailer full of computers with state-of-the-art touch screen technology to process the data.
Bogong moths caused some early interruptions to the processing. These large, nocturnal moths were attracted to light from computer screens, flying into them with enough force to change settings.
Over 16 weeks, the Project Phoenix team observed 209 stars using Murriyang at frequencies between 1,200 and 3,000 mega-hertz. They searched for both continuous and pulsing signals to maximise the chance of finding genuine signals of alien life.
Jill Tarter in the Parkes telescope control room. CSIRO Radio Astronomy Image Archive, CC BY-NC
Radio telescopes are able to detect the faint radio emissions from distant celestial objects. But they are also sensitive to radio waves produced in modern society (our own techno-signatures) by mobile phones, Bluetooth connections, aircraft radar and GPS satellites.
These kinds of local interference can mimic the kinds of signal SETI searches are looking for. So distinguishing between the two is crucial.
To do this, Project Phoenix decided to use a second radio telescope some distance away for an independent check of any signals detected. CSIRO provided access to its 22 metre Mopra radio telescope, about 200 kilometres north of Parkes, to follow up signal candidates in real time.
Over the 16 weeks, the team detected a total of 148,949 signals at Parkes – roughly 80% of which could be easily dismissed as local signals. The team checked a little over 18,000 signals at both Parkes and Mopra. Only 39 passed all tests and looked like strong SETI candidates. But on closer inspection the team identified them as coming from satellites.
Although no evidence for an [extraterrestrial intelligence] signal was found, no mysterious or unexplained signals were left behind and the Australian deployment was a logistical and technological success.
From left to right: journalist Robyn Williams, Jill Tarter, Australia Telescope National Facility Director, Ron Ekers, and Parkes Observatory Officer-in-Charge, Marcus Price, prior to the start of Project Phoenix. CSIRO Radio Astronomy Image Archive, CC BY-NC
The next generation of radio telescopes
When Project Phoenix ended in 2004, project manager Peter Backus concluded “we live in a quiet neighbourhood”.
But efforts are continuing to search for alien life with greater sensitivity, over a wider frequency range, and for more targets.
Breakthrough Listen aims to examine one million of the closest stars and 100 closest galaxies.
One unexpected signal detected at Parkes in 2019 as part of this project was examined in painstaking detail before it was concluded that it too was a locally generated signal.
The next generation of radio telescopes will provide a leap in sensitivity compared to facilities today – benefitting from greater collecting area, improved resolution and superior processing capabilities.
Examples of these next generation radio telescopes include the SKA-Low telescope, under construction in Western Australia, and the SKA-Mid telescope, being built in South Africa. They will be used to answer a wide variety of astronomical questions – including whether there is life beyond Earth.
the most fascinating, interesting thing you could find in the universe is not another kind of star or galaxy … but another kind of life.
Project Phoenix used Murriyang, the CSIRO Parkes radio-telescope, under contract for the work described in this article. I work for CSIRO, but joined in 2006 after this project had been completed.
I’m at the park with my daughter, who is jumping in and out of puddles, splashing, shrieking at me (Mum! Look what I can do!), as I read frantically, taking one-handed notes on my phone (Mum! Look at this!). Part of me wishes I could enjoy with her this moment of pleasure in movement. The other, more insistent part is thinking about this essay: where to start, what to say, how to sum up the extraordinary legacy of the book I’m re-reading, Virginia Woolf’s Mrs Dalloway, which this year marks 100 years since its first publication in 1925. How am I supposed to write about this book?
If you were to read a synopsis, it might seem like a book purely for an academic specialist (which, admittedly, I am). One day in London in June 1923, an ageing rich woman, Clarissa Dalloway, prepares to give a party. Across town, a shell-shocked Great War veteran, Septimus Warren Smith, loses his grip on sanity. Between them oscillate other characters: Clarissa’s former lover Peter Walsh, Clarissa’s husband Richard and daughter Elizabeth, Elizabeth’s tutor Doris Kilman, Septimus’s wife Rezia, and his doctors Holmes and Bradshaw.
Like that other modernist monument, James Joyce’s Ulysses (1922), Mrs Dalloway is explicitly quotidian. It follows ordinary people through ordinary activities on an ordinary day – shopping, walking in the park, riding the bus, going to appointments, mending a dress. As Woolf’s characters go about their day, scenes and impressions are filtered through their individual consciousnesses, threaded together with language, images and memories.
The novel opens with the famous line “Mrs Dalloway said she would buy the flowers herself”, a sentence remarkable for its banality, as well as for its commitment to the in medias res plunge into life that Woolf was so keen on. The iconic status of the line is demonstrated by the number of online parodies it inspires, perhaps only surpassed by William Carlos Williams’s poem This Is Just To Say, which has become a verified meme.
A new seam
On Good Friday 1924, Woolf wrote on a page of the manuscript she was drafting – then called “The Hours” – that “I will write whatever I want to write.” She could write whatever she wanted to write because she owned her own publishing house, The Hogarth Press. The actual press was in the basement of her suburban Richmond home.
Mrs Dalloway was the second of Woolf’s novels to be self-published in this way. Being a small-press publisher allowed her to experiment formally in ways that would have been impossible if she was working with a mainstream publisher. In A Writer’s Diary, she describes her process as both exploratory and technical. On August 30, 1923, she wrote: “I dig out beautiful caves behind my characters”. Later, in October 1924: “I practise writing; do my scales”.
I recently co-hosted a conference here in Hobart, which included a panel on contemporary Tasmanian experimental writing. The writers who spoke that day talked of the struggle to place work that pushed the boundaries of form and genre. A hundred years after Woolf’s efforts to unearth what she called a new “seam”, commercial imperatives continue to constrain writers and their work.
Despite Woolf’s refusal to compromise with mainstream tastes, Mrs Dalloway was well received. Her contemporaries recognised the novel’s importance immediately. “An intellectual triumph”, proclaimed P.C. Kennedy in the New Statesman; “a cathedral”, pronounced E.M. Forster in the New Criterion.
It sold moderately well: 1,500 copies within about a month of its publication on May 14 – more than her prior novel, Jacob’s Room, had sold in a year. Her biographer Hermione Lee records that in 1926 income from writing allowed Woolf and her husband Leonard to install a hot water range and toilet at their country home.
Woolf’s novel was revolutionary for its depiction of same-sex attraction and mental illness, as well as for its challenge to the novel form and representation of time. Clarissa remembers the jolt of desire she felt as an 18-year-old for her friend Sally Seton, who kisses her on the terrace of her house at Bourton:
the most exquisite moment of her whole life passing a stone urn with flowers in it. Sally stopped; picked a flower; kissed her on the lips. The whole world might have turned upside down! The others disappeared; there she was alone with Sally. And she felt that she had been given a present, wrapped up, and told just to keep it, not to look at it – a diamond, something infinitely precious, wrapped up, which, as they walked (up and down, up and down), she uncovered, or the radiance burnt through, the revelation, the religious feeling!
Clarissa, made “virginal” in middle age by illness and marital boredom, is surprised by this irrupting memory. She connects it to her sense of joy in life itself: “the moment of this June morning on which was the pressure of all the other mornings […] collecting the whole of her at one point”.
Clarissa and Septimus Smith – though they never meet – are shadow versions of each other. Both have beaky noses, thin pale birdlike bodies, and histories of illness.
Septimus, so capable as a soldier in the Great War, buries the trauma of seeing his commanding officer Evans killed, only to have it resurface in visual and aural hallucinations, of Evans behind the trees, and birds singing in Greek. He perceives, as Clarissa does, the burden of the past upon the present, and he suffers as a result of the coercion of the social system – what Woolf’s narrator ironises as the sister goddesses Conversion and Proportion.
“Worshipping proportion […] made England prosper”, because proportion forbids despair, illness, and emotional extremes. Conversion, the strong arm of Empire, “offers help, but desires power; smites out of her way roughly the dissentient, the dissatisfied”. Conversion “loves blood better than brick, and feasts most subtly on the human will”. Together, they suck the life from those who cannot or will not comply with them.
For Septimus, who has witnessed the dreadful disproportion of the war, ordinary social life becomes a torturous pressure cooker, a “gradual drawing together of everything to one centre before his eyes, as if some horror had come almost to the surface and was about to burst into flames”. A reviewer for the Times Literary Supplement emphasised this aspect of its experimentalism:
Watching Mrs Woolf’s experiment, certainly one of the hardest and very subtly planned, one reckons up its cost. To get the whole value of the present you must enhance it, perhaps, with the past.
Watching my daughter lark about is shadowed by the two surgeries she had in early childhood to correct her developmental hip dysplasia. I hear her screech with joy in the park, rocketing about freely; I hear her scream in pain in the hospital, encased in plaster from the midsection down. As Woolf knew, the past and the present are experienced within us simultaneously.
Doubled experience
“In this book I have almost too many ideas,” Woolf wrote in her diary on June 19, 1923. “I want to give life and death, sanity and insanity; I want to criticise the social system, and to show it at work, at its most intense.”
Woolf’s ideas have inspired scores of interpretations, focusing on time, space, reality, psychology, domesticity, history, sexual relations, politics, fashion, the environment, health and illness. She is now probably the most written-about 20th century English author. I can remember vividly first reading this novel as an undergraduate, after which I devoured Woolf’s revolutionary 1929 essay A Room of One’s Own, which criticised the educational, economic and social constraints that prevented women, in many instances, from writing anything at all.
Cover of the first edition of A Room of One’s Own (1929). Public domain.
Woolf, of course, could and did write. This was a function, as she knew, of her financial and class privilege. Feminist politics has progressed beyond Woolf, but she laid one of the foundation stones. In her fiction, she modelled a method of writing that critiques patriarchal thinking. She focuses our attention on overlooked individuals and their inner lives, and she splendidly undoes the Victorian conception of plot.
The same year Woolf published Mrs Dalloway, she also published her important collection of essays, The Common Reader. The first piece in that book, on the medieval letters of the Paston family, describes the illumination cast by these ordinary, non-literary pieces of writing:
Like all collections of letters, they seem to hint that we need not care overmuch for the fortunes of individuals. The family will go on, whether Sir John lives or dies. It is their method to heap up in mounds of insignificant and often dismal dust the innumerable trivialities of daily life, as it grinds itself out, year after year. And then suddenly they blaze up; the day shines out, complete, alive, before our eyes.
Mrs Dalloway encompasses this doubled experience of insignificance and blazing life. Woolf writes of the past emerging into the present day and the present’s capacity to reshape the past. In her diary, she called this her “tunnelling process, by which I tell the past in instalments, as I have need of it”.
In tunnelling through narrative, digging out caves behind her characters, Woolf flung out a lot of what seems to be dust – buying flowers, ogling girls, table manners and weight gain, advertising, letter writing, doctor’s appointments, eating eclairs in a department store cafe. The novel reminds us of these moments’ triviality, and their significance, through repeated reference to the bells and clocks of London striking the hour.
This is why the opening line – and the novel as a whole – is so remarkable. It catches drops of shimmering reality from moments that can so easily go unremarked. This, Woolf knew, was what writing needed to do: to stop time. As she wrote of the Pastons’ letters: “There is the ancient day, spread out before us, hour by hour.”
Her metaphor shows that Woolf’s thinking about time also had a spatial dimension. These two dimensions of space and time structure Mrs Dalloway’s theme and method, As David Daiches explained in his 1939 book The Novel and the Modern World, Woolf first links a series of different perspectives through a single shared moment in time – marked by the sound of the bells – then switches to an individual perspective, anchored in space, and moves through that individual’s memories.
Woolf wrote in her diary that “the caves shall connect and each comes to daylight at the present moment.” Daiches diagrammed these relations in time and space as a series of connected trees, arguing that they illustrated the novel’s concern with “the importance of contact and at the same time the necessity of keeping the self inviolable, of the extremes of isolation and domination”.
A legacy of inspiration
Since its publication, Mrs Dalloway has continued to inspire. For second-wave feminism, Woolf was a touchstone. Since the 1970s, she has enjoyed an unparalleled position in the history of 20th century letters, inspiring the recovery of other contemporaneous women writers connected with the Bloomsbury group.
Michael Cunningham’s The Hours, Robin Lippincott’s Mr Dalloway and John Lanchester’s Mr Phillips all appeared in the three years between 1998 and 2000, all of them reflecting Woolf’s legacy, tacitly or explicitly.
Because of the Oscar-winning film adaptation by Stephen Daldry, Cunningham’s novel is the most recognisable of these three. The Hours revises Mrs Dalloway through the stories of three women: Virginia Woolf herself; Laura Brown, a 1950s housewife who reads Mrs Dalloway; and Clarissa Vaughan, nicknamed Mrs Dalloway by her former lover Richard, for whom she throws a literary party.
Cunningham’s novel counterpoints, as Woolf did, the work of living with the work of art. The homemaker Laura Brown tries to bake a cake to equal a work of art, hoping “to be as satisfied and as filled with anticipation as a writer putting down the first sentence, a builder beginning to draw the plans.” Later, her delirious dying son Richard regrets what he views as the failure of his art to compete with simply living:
I wanted to create something alive and shocking enough that it could stand beside a morning in somebody’s life. The most ordinary morning. Imagine trying to do that. What foolishness.
More recently, Michelle Cahill’s Daisy & Woolf (2023) and Miranda Darling’s Thunderhead (2024) have wrestled with Mrs Dalloway the character, and with Woolf’s legacy. Darling’s novel revives a new “Mrs” Dalloway, Winona, a wealthy Sydney suburban writer, wife and mother, who struggles to break through “to something more real” than the constraint of middle class domestication.
Cahill’s Daisy & Woolf explores a minor character from Mrs Dalloway, whom Woolf failed to make properly live: Daisy Simmons, Peter Walsh’s Anglo-Indian fiancee. In Woolf’s novel, Daisy exists entirely offstage. She is a romantic memory of Peter’s, “dark, adorably pretty”. Daisy, writes Cahill, is
trapped in the past, in a moment, a vignette, but not the kind that would enter a room, open a window, to a life inside, a life in the mind, as it does for Clarissa with a squeak of hinges on the very first page of Mrs Dalloway! Not a real girl, Daisy, too arch perhaps, the air not stirring for her, seeing as she has no present tense.
Cahill’s present-day narrator Mina, writing back to Woolf, sees Daisy as a fully fleshed character: a mixed-race woman living in Calcutta in the twilight of Empire, as the Indian independence movement grows in strength. In recovering Daisy’s rich personal and political history, narrated through letters to Peter, Cahill reclaims interiority for this marginalised character.
In her 1937 essay Craftsmanship, the BBC broadcast of which is the only surviving recording of her voice, Woolf wrote: “Words, English words, are full of echoes, of memories, of associations.”
Mrs Dalloway shows us the ways that words can both connect and sever. Characters pass each other on the street, muse on a shared past, or witness the same event from different vantage points and through different filters of personality and psyche. As Hermione Lee explained, for Woolf “the really important life was ‘within’”.
Peter remembers Clarissa’s theory of life, which is expounded on top of a bus going down Shaftesbury Avenue:
She felt herself everywhere; not here here here; […] but everywhere. […] so that to know her, or any one, one must seek out the people who completed them; even the places […] since our apparitions, the part of us which appears, are so momentary compared with the other, the unseen part of us, which spreads wide, the unseen might survive, be recovered somehow attached to this person or that, or even haunting certain places, after death.
Late in the book, Septimus’s suicide is reported to Clarissa at the party. “Oh,” she thinks, “in the middle of my party, here’s death”. And in the middle of her party, Clarissa feels not only the disaster of death – “her disaster, her disgrace […] and she forced to stand here in her evening dress” – but the deep pulsing joy of life. “Nothing could be slow enough; nothing last too long.”
In certain lights – to paraphrase Michael Cunningham – Mrs Dalloway might look like the book of one’s own life, a book that will locate you, parent you, arm you for life’s changes. As an undergraduate, I was mesmerised by Woolf’s language and her grasp on the inner life.
Though Clarissa Dalloway is 52, Woolf turned 43 the year her novel was published. I’m turning 43 this year, too. Woolf, ravaged by long periods of illness and partially toothless, thought of herself as elderly. I do not, though I am no longer young. But to re-read this novel at this age reminds me to relish these long hours and short years: to sniff flowers, feel the lift of the gusting wind, jump and splash with my children, read the patterns made by the clouds. To seize the day.
Naomi Milthorpe does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.
Source: The Conversation – USA – By Joycelyn Wilson, Assistant Professor of Ethnographic and Cultural Studies , Georgia Institute of Technology
Producers Fast Eddie and Joe Smooth mix at DJ International Studios in Chicago in 1990. Innovation was at the forefront of house and hip-hop.Raymond Boyd/Getty Images
There was a time when artists representing two of America’s biggest homegrown musical genres wouldn’t get a look in at the Grammys.
Hip-hop and house both have their origins in the 1970s and early 1980s – in fact, they recently celebrated a 50th and 40th birthday, respectively. But it was only in 1989 that an award category for “best rap performance” started recognizing hip-hop’s contribution to U.S. music, and house had to wait another decade, with the introduction of “best dance/electronic recording” in 1998.
At this year’s awards, taking place on Feb. 2, hip-hop and house artists will be among the most talked about. House duo Justice and Kendrick Lamar, a hip-hop superstar who incorporates elements of house himself, are among those looking to pick up an award. Meanwhile, a nomination for a collaboration between DJ Kaytranada and rapper Childish Gambino shows how artists from both genres continue to feed off each other.
And while both genres are now celebrated for their separate contributions to the music landscape, as a scholar of African American culture and music, I am interested in their commonality: Both are distinctly Black American artforms that originated on the streets and dance floors of U.S. cities, developing a devoted underground following before being accepted by – and transforming – the mainstream.
The pulse of the 1970s
The roots of hip-hop and house music both lie in the seismic shifts of the late 1970s, a period of sociopolitical unrest and electronic experimentation that redefined the possibilities of sound.
For hip-hop, this was expressed through the turntable manipulation pioneered by DJ Kool Herc in 1973, when he extended and looped breakbeats to energize crowds. House music’s innovators turned to the drum machine to create the genre’s foundational four-on-the-floor dance rhythm.
That rhythm, foreshadowed by Eddy Grant’s 1977 production of “Time Warp” by The Coachouse Rhythm Section, would go on to shape house music’s distinct pulse. The track showed how electronic instruments such as the synthesizer and drum machine could recast traditional rhythmic patterns into something entirely new.
This dance vibe – in which a base drum provides a steady four-four beat – became the heartbeat of house music, creating an enduring structure for DJs to layer basslines, percussion and melodies. In a similar way, Kool Herc’s breakbeat manipulation provided the scaffolding for MCs and dancers in hip-hop’s formative years.
Marginalized communities in urban centers like Chicago and New York were at the forefront of these innovations. Despite experiencing grinding poverty and discrimination, it was Black and Latino youth – armed with turntables, drum machines and samplers – who made these groundbreaking advances in music.
For hip-hop, this meant manipulating breakbeats from songs like Kraftwerk’s “Trans-Europe Express” and “Numbers” to energize b-boys and b-girls; for house, it meant extending disco’s rhythmic pulse into an ecstatic, inclusive dance floor. Both genres exemplified – and continue to exemplify – the ingenuity of predominantly Black and Hispanic communities who turned limited resources into cultural revolutions.
From this shared origin of technological experimentation, cultural resilience and creative ingenuity, hip-hop and house music grew into distinct yet globally influential movements.
The message and the MIDI
By the early 1980s, both genres had found their feet.
Hip-hop emerged as a powerful voice for storytelling, resistance and identity. Building on the foundations laid down by DJ Kool Herc, artists like Afrika Bambaataa emphasized hip-hop’s cultural and communal aspects. Meanwhile, Grandmaster Flash elevated the genre’s technical artistry with innovations like cutting and scratching.
By 1984, hip-hop had evolved from its grassroots beginnings in the Bronx into a cultural movement on the cusp of mainstream recognition. Run-DMC’s self-titled debut album released that year introduced a harder, stripped-down sound that departed from disco-influenced beats. Their music, paired with the trio’s Adidas tracksuits and gold chains, established an aesthetic that resonated far beyond New York City. Music videos on MTV gave hip-hop a new medium for storytelling, while films like “Beat Street” and “Breakin’” showcased the features and tenets of hip-hop culture: DJing, rapping, graffiti, breaking and knowledge of self – cementing its cultural presence, and presenting it to a world outside the U.S.
But at its core, hip-hop remained a voice for the voiceless that sought to address systemic inequities through storytelling. Tracks like Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five’s “The Message” vividly depicted the reality of living in poor, urban communities, while Public Enemy’s “Fight the Power” and Tupac Shakur’s “Keep Ya Head Up” became anthems for social justice.
Together these artists positioned hip-hop as a platform for resistance and empowerment.
Becoming a cultural force
Unlike hip-hop’s lyrical storytelling, house music focused on the physicality of rhythm and the collective experience of the dance floor. And as hip-hop moved away from disco, house leaned into it.
Italy’s “father of disco,” Giorgio Moroder, showed the way with his pioneering use of synthesizers in Donna Summer’s “I Feel Love.” Over in New York, Larry Levan’s DJ sets at Paradise Garage demonstrated how electronic instruments could create immersive, emotionally charged experiences as a club that centered crowd participation through dance and not lyrics.
By 1984, Chicago DJs Frankie Knuckles and Ron Hardy were repurposing disco tracks with drum machines like the Roland TR-808 and 909 to create hypnotic beats. Knuckles, known as the “Godfather of House,” transformed his sets at the Warehouse club into euphoric experiences, giving the genre its name in the process.
As with hip-hop, by the the mid-1980s house music had become a cultural force, spreading from Chicago to Detroit, to New York and, eventually, to the U.K.’s rave scene. Its emphasis on repetition, rhythm and electronic instrumentation solidified its global appeal, uniting people across identities and geographies.
Mainstays in modern music
Despite their differences, moments of crossover highlight their shared DNA.
From the late 1980s, tracks like Fast Eddie’s “Yo Yo Get Funky” and the Jungle Brothers’ “I’ll House You” merged house beats with hip-hop’s lyrical flow. Artists like Kaytranada and Doechii continue to blend the two genres today, staying true to the genres’ legacies while pushing their boundaries.
And technology continues to drive both genres. Platforms like SoundCloud have democratized music production, allowing emerging artists to build on the decades of innovations that preceded them. Collaborations, such as Disclosure and Charli XCX’s “She’s Gone, Dance On,” highlight their adaptability and enduring appeal.
Whether through hip-hop’s lyrical narratives or house’s rhythmic euphoria, these genres continue to inspire, challenge and transcend.
As the 2025 Grammy Awards celebrate today’s leading house and hip-hop artists and their contemporary achievements, it is clear that the legacies of these two genres are mainstays in the kaleidoscope of American popular music and culture, having come a long way from back-to-school park jams and underground dance parties.
Joycelyn Wilson is affiliated with the Recording Academy.
Canada is a top destination for international students, with over one million studying at various levels in 2023. International students contribute billions of dollars to the Canadian economy and much more to our social fabric.
But recent policy changes and increased public scrutiny have created a challenging environment for these students and the higher education institutions that host them.
After a decade of rapid growth, the federal government has implemented a two-year cap on international student permits, reducing undergraduate admissions by 35 per cent in 2024 and an additional 10 per cent in 2025.
This controversial decision aims to address growing concerns about the impact of international students and unchecked immigration on Canada’s economy, housing and public services.
An ongoing longitudinal research study at Thompson Rivers University (TRU) , which engages international students’ views and experiences through both surveys and interviews, sheds light on the lived experiences of international students amid these dramatic policy shifts. I have led this research with international graduate student research assistants.
Shifts from 2016 to 2024: housing
The first round of our study drew on a 2016 survey of more than 100 international students at TRU, and interviews with 14 from the same pool. We recently surveyed a further 215 international TRU students and conducted in-depth interviews with 14 more participants from various nations including India and China, across a range of undergraduate and graduate programs.
Our newest research findings revealed major challenges faced by international students, particularly in housing and finances. This echoes other findings that indicate the housing situation for international students has worsened over the past decade.
Over 55 per cent of students reported difficulties finding suitable accommodations, with many experiencing systemic racial discrimination in the rental market. Financial struggles were also prevalent, with about one-third of participants indicating insufficient financial support or uncertainty about their financial situation.
On a positive note, fewer students reported experiencing racism on campus in 2024 than in 2016.
In 2016, when students were asked to say to what extent they agreed with the statement “I encountered racism at university,” there were a wide range of statements: 14 per cent strongly agreed and 21 per cent agreed; 25 per cent strongly disagreed; 16 per cent disagreed and 23 per cent were undecided.
This was the only question that had such a pattern of responses spread evenly across the five-point scale. In 2024, only 13.5 per cent agreed or strongly agreed with this statement.
But in interviews, many students commented upon encountering racism and exploitation when job hunting or searching for housing accommodations. For example, one student reported that when seeking to renegotiate a lease due to problems with a roommate, the landlord threatened to take action to revoke their student visa.
In surveys and interviews, students lamented the dearth of co-op programs, work-integrated learning and experiential opportunities for their future success in Canada. This aligns with recent data from the Canadian Bureau for International Education, which found that 70 per cent of international students plan to apply for post-graduate work permits, and 57 per cent intend to seek permanent residency.
Students’ responses fell into three main themes: cross-cultural exchange, mutual learning and community building, and personal growth through international experiences. These findings were consistent across different nationalities and genders, suggesting a shared understanding of internationalization among diverse student groups.
A student carrying a backpack walks on campus at Trinity Western University in Langley, B.C., in 2017.
To address these challenges and support international students, our research recommends that universities continue to diversify their pools of international students by increasing scholarships for students from marginalized regions.
This matters in the wake of the recent announcement to reduce immigration targets from 485,000 in 2024 to 365,000 by 2027. This policy direction creates uncertainty for many international students hoping to build their futures in Canada.
This shift comes as public support for immigration has dramatically decreased, reaching an all-time low. Fifty-eight per cent of Canadians now believe the country accepts too many immigrants — a 31-point increase since 2022.
We also suggest fostering deeper cross-cultural understanding among university staff and domestic students, establishing program-specific student support centres with peer mentoring. The fragile school-to-work transition needs to be better facilitated through co-op education and other work-integrated learning opportunities. Action from policymakers to address systemic barriers in housing and employment is also needed.
Welcoming destination for global talent
International students contribute significantly to Canada’s economy, cultural diversity and multicultural society.
Government, educators, universities and employers have roles to play in reframing the “internationalization” of higher education. There is a need to balance economic rationales with social and academic outcomes, including a focus on global citizenship education for all students.
In the shadow of Donald Trump’s second presidency in the United States, which is amplifying xenophobic rhetoric and action against migrants, and amid major shifts in Canada’s federal landscape, it is important to take inventory of how changing government immigration policies can have a profound impact on Canada.
It is crucial to consider the perspectives of international students. Their insights matter for helping to shape policies and practices that affect their educational experiences, future opportunities in Canada and the very social fabric of Canada.
By addressing students’ challenges and the barriers they encounter, and by supporting their successes, we can ensure that Canada remains a welcoming destination for global talent.
Surbhi Sagar and Athira Pushpamgathan contributed to this research and co-authored this story.
Edward R. Howe does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.
Source: The Conversation – Canada – By Camellia Bryan, Assistant Professor, Organizational Behaviour and Human Resources Division, Sauder School of Business, University of British Columbia
In the corporate world, DEI programs aimed at addressing systemic barriers that have historically disadvantaged marginalized groups are facing growing resistance, with backlash becoming increasingly visible in workplaces and in public discourse.
High-profile companies like Amazon, Meta, McDonalds and Target have been cancelling their DEI programs since last year. Although others, like Costco and Apple, have said they’re retaining theirs.
The backlash against DEI isn’t just about individuals rejecting change; it reveals deeper tensions in how people see themselves and their place in society.
Backlash often emerges from employees who belong to dominant social identity groups that hold disproportionate access to power and resources. Examples include white people in North America, men in patriarchal societies or heterosexual individuals in hetero-normative cultures.
For these employees, DEI initiatives can sometimes feel threatening. Why? Because such efforts highlight inequalities and challenge assumptions about fairness, merit and the status quo. When someone identifies strongly with their group — whether as a white person, a man or a member of another dominant identity — they may see DEI initiatives as attacks on their assumptions. This discomfort is known as social identity threat.
For instance, when a company introduces a gender equity policy aimed at addressing women’s under-representation in leadership, some men might perceive this as unfair. Their response — whether it’s skepticism, defensiveness or outright resistance — reflects a defensive reaction to that threat.
Beyond defensiveness: A path to learning
Traditional approaches to managing DEI backlash often focus on mitigating threat: providing reassurance, avoiding confrontation or encouraging self-affirmation (“DEI isn’t about you; it’s about everyone”). Yet these approaches miss an important point: social identity threat doesn’t have to result in defensiveness or backlash. It can also inspire reflection, learning and growth.
Our research draws on transformational learning theory, which explains how adults change their understanding of the world in response to disorienting experiences.
According to this theory, when people encounter information that challenges their assumptions, they can engage in a process of deep reflection. By questioning their beliefs and seeking out new perspectives, individuals can develop more accurate, inclusive interpretations of themselves and others.
Consider the story of Caolan Robertson, a former alt-right filmmaker in the United Kingdom.
For years, Robertson worked with extremist figures to produce anti-immigrant and anti-Muslim content that garnered millions of views online. Then, in 2019, Robertson saw media coverage of mosque shootings, where 51 people were killed by a white supremacist. The tragedy rattled him.
In Robertson’s own words, the event forced him to confront his assumptions about white identity and how it can be involved in violence and extremism. What began as an overwhelming sense of disorientation turned into a period of deep reflection. Robertson eventually rejected his old beliefs, began speaking out against extremism, and co-founded an organization to help others de-radicalize.
Similar learning occurs on smaller scales in workplaces every day. For example, a male manager who initially feels threatened by gender equity policies might, over time, come to recognize the barriers women face at work and become an advocate for change. Or a white employee who feels uncomfortable during discussions about racism might come to see how privilege has shaped their experiences.
Creating conditions for growth
So how can organizations turn social identity threat into an opportunity for learning rather than backlash? We propose three strategies:
1. Foster a “learning-oriented” DEI climate
Organizations must shift how they frame DEI initiatives. Instead of treating these efforts as compliance-driven checkboxes, companies should position DEI as a chance for employees to learn, grow and contribute to a more inclusive workplace. A strong diversity climate — where differences are valued, and conversations about identity are encouraged — creates a safe space for reflection. Our research shows that when employees feel that diversity is part of their organization’s mission, they’re more likely to approach identity threats as a learning opportunity.
2. Encourage dialogue across perspectives
One of the most effective ways to challenge harmful assumptions is through dialogue across perspectives — open conversations where employees with different lived experiences share their perspectives and provide feedback. This kind of dialogue requires psychological safety: employees need to feel secure enough to express their views, even when those views are incomplete or flawed. Importantly, these conversations don’t always have to occur between dominant and marginalized group members. Dialogue with other dominant-group colleagues who have already reflected on their identities can also provide valuable insights.
3. Support incremental progress
Transformational learning doesn’t happen overnight. Employees may initially engage in surface-level reflection, revising specific assumptions without challenging deeper systems of inequality. Over time, they may progress to deep-level reflection, critically analyzing the foundational beliefs that shape their identity. Organizations can support this incremental progress by recognizing small steps and encouraging continued learning.
Discomfort: A powerful motivator for change
The backlash to DEI efforts is often framed as evidence that the initiative is failing, but it can also be understood as a natural part of the learning process.
Social identity threat is uncomfortable, but it can serve as a powerful motivator for change when organizations provide the right tools and support.
Companies that ignore backlash risk deepening resistance and undermining their DEI goals. However, organizations that embrace discomfort as an opportunity for growth can transform their workplaces into spaces where employees are not only more inclusive but also more reflective, empathetic and engaged.
Backlash isn’t the end of the story — it’s the beginning of a conversation.
The authors do not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and have disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.
Ecosystems and species across the natural world are in serious trouble. The vast majority of Australians want more government action, but it’s not being delivered.
Take, for example, the federal government commitment to end extinctions via its Nature Positive plan. Or consider its promise to overhaul Australia’s environmental legislation and create a new independent regulator. Progress on both hasfaltered.
The biodiversity crisis calls for systemic change in humanity’s relationship with nature. This requires bold policy action from governments. Our new research examined how everyday people can help achieve this.
We mined the insider knowledge of politicians, senior public servants and environmental advocates. The participants were Victoria-based, but their advice applies more broadly.
Here, we present a recipe for achieving real, lasting change for the natural world.
1. Be prepared for a long haul
Change can take a long time. Be willing and able to see out the process. As one government interviewee told us:
[Change] is not going to happen by one research paper, one meeting, one event, it’s gonna be a whole range of things over a sustained period of time.
Also, find support. Our interviewees told us the most successful campaigns often happen when like-minded individuals band together. This provides the social support needed to stay the course.
Remember, change is possible. As one government interviewee told us, this is especially true in marginal seats, where “constant ongoing campaigning at every level” can shift the dial.
There is very likely a community group advocating for nature near you. These groups sometimes link up with larger, better-funded environment groups, to access their resources and networks.
Identify who you need to influence. The person holding the lever might not be a politician, but a public servant. Or public servants might rally for a cause internally, sometimes partnering with community groups.
So how do you find this key person? Build your networks. Start talking to people in your community and get to know your local elected representatives. Find out what they care about and pitch your message to appeal to their values and concerns.
One interviewee told us community groups would benefit from knowing more about how the system works:
What are the bits that can actually change? […] Community members can be a bit aggressive in trying to drive through their challenge without understanding why they’ve been ignored in the past, or feel that they’ve been ignored.
As another government interviewee told us:
People don’t see how much power they have if they just use their voice and use it in a constructive way.
3. Be strategic
Choose whether to work with the government, or challenge it publicly.
Environmental advocates can work alongside government to design solutions together. For example, a community group might work with their local council to design and implement management of a bush reserve. Big non-government environment groups often work in this way, relying on strong relationships with government insiders to achieve change.
The opposite strategy is an “outsider” approach, which, at the extreme end, might include physically disrupting industry. Think chaining yourself to a tree in a forest pegged for logging or ramming a ship into a commercial whaling vessel.
A less extreme outsider approach might be seeking to get your issue into the media to build public interest to get something on the political agenda.
Both approaches have their merits in the right context. As one staff member of an environment group told us:
We’re going to put on the suits […] and we’re not going to scale their buildings and release confidential information that they’ve given us to the media […] I don’t judge those that have that theory of change, because we need both, we need the really extreme advocacy to make us look mainstream and medium and reasonable.
4. Seize the moment
Identify when your advocacy might be most effective. It might be an upcoming election or budget, or when a policy is being reviewed.
Or it might be something less predictable, such as a bushfire, flood or other environmental disaster. In those cases, nature conservation issues are suddenly all over the media. It might be a chance for real change.
Effective advocates know how to identify, create, and be prepared for these windows. As one staff member at an environmental group told us:
Some organizations talk about making change. But that’s a harder exercise. Often it’s a sort of a
catching a wave of something else, or waiting for the opportunity.
The upcoming federal election is one such opportunity. The lead up is a good time to advocate for nature. Speak with your local politician and their competitors about the change you want to see.
If not us, who?
These are well-tested, effective actions you can use to achieve positive policy change for the environment. But remember, the system is dynamic. New methods and approaches will emerge as technologies, modes of communication and other factors evolve.
Governments, however, are a permanent fixture in the system. They stand to benefit politically by engaging with community and advocacy groups. So there is enormous potential for everyday people to genuinely make a difference.
Environmental crises can seem overwhelming, but we can – and must – try to make a difference. Because, as the old adage goes: if not us, who? And if not now, when?
The authors acknowledge Fern Hames and Kim Lowe for their contributions to this article.
Lily van Eeden receives funding from the Australian Research Council. Lily was previously employed by the Victorian government.
Liam Smith is a Councillor on the Biodiversity Council.
Sarah Bekessy receives funding from the Australian Research Council, the National Health and Medical Research Council, the Ian Potter Foundation and the European Commission. She is a Lead Councillor with The Biodiversity Council, a board member of Bush Heritage Australia, a member of the WWF Eminent Scientists Group and an advisor to ELM Responsible Investment, the Living Building Challenge and Wood for Good.
