People in the UK need to adopt heat pumps and electric vehicles as fast as they once embraced refrigerators, mobile phones and internet connection according to a new report by the Climate Change Committee (CCC).
This government watchdog says the next 15 years will be critical for decarbonising the UK, one of the world’s largest (and earliest) carbon polluters. Eighty-seven percent of its climate-heating emissions must be eliminated by 2040 to keep the country on track for net zero emissions by mid-century, per the report. The majority (60%) of these cuts are expected to come via a single source: electricity.
Out of possible alternatives to a fossil fuelled economy, electrification has emerged as the favoured solution of experts at the CCC.
Ran Boydell, an associate professor in sustainable development at Heriot-Watt University, agrees. “Home boilers will very soon move into the realm of nostalgia,” he says.
The reason why heat pumps are increasingly touted as the future of home heating – and not retooled boilers that burn hydrogen instead of methane – is efficiency.
Boydell points out that green hydrogen fuel is made using electricity from solar and wind farms. We could eliminate emissions a lot quicker, he argues, if that electricity went directly to heat pumps instead.
Electricity can be turned into a fuel – or power appliances directly. Piyaset/Shutterstock
“This is because you end up with only two-thirds of the energy in the hydrogen that you started with from the electricity,” he says.
Likewise, battery-powered vehicles have an advantage that has allowed them to race ahead of hydrogen fuel cells to comprise almost a fifth of all new vehicles sold in the UK in 2024.
“An electric vehicle can be recharged wherever there is access to a plug socket,” say Tom Stacey and Chris Ivory, supply chain experts at Anglia Ruskin University. “The infrastructure that exists to support hydrogen vehicles is limited in comparison and will require extensive investment to introduce.”
If the route to zero emissions is largely settled, we need to travel it quickly.
Electric dreams
One of the fastest energy transitions in history occurred over a decade in South Korea, according to energy system researchers James Price and Steve Pye (UCL). Between 1977 and 1987, the generation of electricity from oil in the east Asian country collapsed – from roughly 7 million gigawatt-hours to nearly 7,000 – and was replaced with, among other sources, nuclear power.
There are historic analogues for the rapid shift necessary to arrest climate change. But a zero-carbon power sector, which the UK government aims to achieve by 2030, is just the start.
“Wind and solar, which provide more than 28% of the UK’s electricity, will soon overtake gas as the main generation source as more wind farms come online,” say energy system modeller Andrew Crossland and engineer Jon Gluyas, both of Durham University.
“But successive governments have failed to achieve the same result in homes and communities where so much high-carbon gas is burned, despite their decarbonisation being critical to net zero.”
Crossland and Gluyas note that solar panels, batteries and heat pumps can be installed “in days” to rapidly cut emissions, and that doing so would create “skilled jobs across the country”. As things stand, however, it would also present a severe challenge to the grid.
Mechanical engineer Florimond Gueniat of Birmingham City University predicts that converting UK transport to battery power wholesale would require expanding grid capacity by 46% – the equivalent of erecting 5,800 skyscraper-sized wind turbines. And that’s even accounting for the greater efficiency of electric vehicles, which waste less of the energy we put into them compared with oil-powered cars.
A massive upgrade to the electricity network is needed, and ordinary people have a part to play. Charging cars could serve as batteries that grid operators draw from during a supply pinch. The same goes for the power generated by solar panels on top of houses.
“Such policies in Germany have … already offset 10% of the national demand,” says Gueniat.
Getting to net zero requires the public’s involvement. But some of the CCC’s advice may be difficult to swallow. Not least the implication that people will have to eat 35% less meat and dairy in 2050 compared with 2019.
So are people ready for a world that runs on electrons alone? Aimee Ambrose, a professor of energy policy at Sheffield Hallam University, thinks heat pumps will struggle to compete with the inviting warmth of wood stoves and coal fires. Over three years she spoke with hundreds of people in the UK, Finland, Sweden and Romania and found strong attachments to high-carbon fuels even among people committed to solving climate change.
Human behaviour is the most difficult variable for experts who study climate change to model. There will certainly be drawbacks to abandoning fossil fuelled conveniences at breakneck speed. Yet, there are bound to be benefits too – some of which might only materialise once we get going.
In mid-April 2020, while much of humanity was under some form of lockdown to halt the spread of COVID-19, atmospheric chemist Paul Monks of the University of Leicester was marvelling at the sudden drop in air pollution, which kills millions of people each year and is predominantly caused by burning coal, oil and gas.
Source: The Conversation – UK – By Maria Kathryn Tomlinson, Lecturer in Public Communication and Gender, University of Sheffield, University of Sheffield
In 2020, the government attempted to address this problem in England with a scheme to make period products available for free in schools and colleges. This is a valuable endeavour. However, just because pads and tampons are stocked in schools, this does not mean that they are easily accessible to the pupils who need them.
In research for my recently published book, I talked to 77 teenagers in England about their knowledge and views of menstruation and related social issues.
Many of the girls and non-binary pupils used this opportunity to share the frustrations, anxiety and embarrassment that they had experienced when searching for, requesting, or using the free period products in their current and previous schools.
Some pupils explained that they had to ask for period products and wished that they could “just grab them” when needed. They told me that products were kept at reception, locked away, or stored in areas – such as staff rooms – that pupils are not allowed to access.
This requires teenagers to discuss their period with teachers or other members of school staff and many pupils I spoke to explained that they felt too embarrassed to do this. This echoes the findings of other research on the continued role played by menstrual stigma in schools.
The teenagers in my research also said that the stigma around poverty deterred them from asking for menstrual products. “There’s so much shame thrown on to it. There are so many labels around the whole concept of not being able to afford these things,” one explained. Another said:
If you’re from a low-income household, you feel really awkward to go and
pick them out, especially because the box is in the middle of the common
room. So, to walk all the way there just to pick out some products… I
wouldn’t say anyone is going to look at you weirdly, but obviously people
have got that mindset of ‘oh they’re going to stare at me because I can’t
afford it’.
Other pupils reported that products were kept in libraries or only in one bathroom in the entire school which, in a large school, could be very far from their classrooms. One girl explained that this distance was especially problematic if her period had begun unexpectedly:
Reception was in a completely different building across the courtyard, so it’s not like I’m going to go to the loo, discover I have my period, go to the front desk, get some stuff and then go back. It’s too time-consuming. If I have classes, I can’t use it. I feel like the period product scheme is a really good idea, but it is dependent on the schools properly utilising it.
Exam time
The pupils also said that they could not always access period products during examinations. They reported that this lack of access had affected their concentration during their GCSEs. They said that examinations often took place far from where they usually accessed menstrual products and, due to concerns about cheating, they could not bring their own into examination rooms.
One girl explained: “Exams are stressful enough and then you put bleeding on to that and getting your pads and painkillers sorted. It’s another thing us girls have to worry about”. Another said: “In exams you can’t really bring anything in. They’re just going to think you’re cheating but you’re not, you just need to change yourself.”
Teenagers said that the products they needed weren’t always available. New Africa/Shutterstock
Some of the teenagers also mentioned that the products themselves were not serving their needs. Some schools only stocked internal products, such as tampons. For a range of reasons – due to culture, disability, and personal preference, among others – these are not suitable for everyone.
Other schools only provided thin pads. This is a problem for pupils with heavy bleeding. “The school pads are not thick enough,” one girl said. “I have to change my pad five to six times a day because I come on really heavy.”
Besides discussing the barriers they had faced to access these products, they also stated that they had never raised these issues with teachers or pastoral staff.
Menstrual justice charity Irise International is launching a toolkit for schools on how they can improve access to both period products and toilets themselves. This is based on evidence from my book as well as Irise’s own consultations with young people.
It is important that pupils are given the opportunity to share – in a comfortable and inclusive setting – their views with staff on which products should be available and where they are stored. This can include ordering reusable products such as cups and period underwear.
Schools should also ensure that period products are easily accessible during exams – such as on a table outside the exam room or in nearby toilets – and that pupils know in advance where they will be kept.
Maria Kathryn Tomlinson received funding for this research from the Leverhulme Trust under Grant ECF-2019-232.
Feeling disbelieved when knowing that there is something very wrong with your body can have devastating and long-term consequences. One of the most obvious consequences is that you won’t get the correct treatment and support.
A study my colleagues and I conducted of over 3,000 people with autoimmune disease uncovered many extra long-lasting disadvantages when the misdiagnosis involved a mental health or psychosomatic label (often termed an “in your head” misdiagnosis by patients).
These often included feelings of shame, self-doubt and depression. For some, it extended to suicidal thoughts and even suicide attempts.
A further consequence was that people had much lower trust in doctors. This distrust led to some people avoiding seeking further medical help, often for fear of being disbelieved again.
A concerning finding from our study was that these negative emotions and distrust often remained just as strong many years after feeling that a doctor had not believed their symptoms.
Psychological scars were deep and usually unhealed. Over 70% of people reporting a psychosomatic or mental misdiagnosis said that it still upset them. And over 80% said that it had damaged their self-worth.
One of our study participants, who had several autoimmune diseases, told her story that spoke for many: “One doctor told me I was making myself feel pain – I still can’t forget those words. Telling me I’m doing it to myself has made me very anxious and depressed.”
These findings were not just anecdotal. Overall, we found depression levels were significantly higher and wellbeing levels lower in people who reported receiving mental health or psychosomatic misdiagnoses.
We chose to use this woman’s testimony in the title of our study: “I still can’t forget those words.” Not only did it accurately reflect our findings, but it symbolises our research team’s ethos to give these often unheard patients a voice.
The hurt of misdiagnosis was compounded by having “nowhere to voice my anger” or distress. Some of the most moving stories were from people whose early symptoms of autoimmune disease, when they were still children, had been disbelieved by doctors.
Even in middle or older age, those words and feelings had remained with them for decades, often felt as strongly as the day that they were heard. As one of the patient partners in our research team described it, they lived the rest of their lives with “seared souls”.
A woman with lupus told the interviewer that her doctor had told her at age 16 that she had “too many symptoms for it not to be hypochondria”. She spoke very emotively and articulately about the damage caused to a developing sense of self.
It has affected my mental health very negatively and I do think it’s affected me in my like sense of self. It’s not good for anyone at any age but as a teenage girl being told you don’t know your own feelings is absolutely no way to shape a human being.
It is natural when hearing all these very difficult stories, and seeing the damage caused, to blame doctors, but is that fair? Doctors very rarely set out to cause harm. Rather, in some cases, it is impossible to diagnose autoimmune diseases quickly.
However, our study highlights that some doctors do reach too quickly for a psychosomatic or mental health explanation for autoimmune disease symptoms.
Some research that may have influenced doctors in giving psychosomatic misdiagnoses says that a long list of symptoms is a red flag that the symptoms are not caused by a disease. This generalisation rather dangerously fails to account for the fact that a long list of symptoms is also a red flag for many autoimmune diseases.
Many autoimmune symptoms are also invisible, and there are no clear tests that will show how bad they are to the doctor. Some of the terms that patients find upsetting and dismissive when doctors talk or write about their symptoms include “vague” and “non-specific”.
Doctors often write letters quickly due to health service constraints, sometimes unthinkingly using terms passed down from their seniors; letters that use terms like “patient claims” or “no objective evidence found of” can increase feelings of being disbelieved.
Empathetic listening
Our research suggests that more doctors need to think about autoimmunity as a diagnosis early on when faced with multiple varied symptoms that often don’t seem to fit together. Above all, many diagnostic clues can be found by listening to and believing the people experiencing the symptoms.
Empathetic listening and support are also required to help misdiagnosed patients heal emotionally – they very rarely can just “move on” as one doctor advised. We should not underestimate the power of doctors saying “I believe you” to patients with multiple invisible symptoms, and “I am sorry for what has happened in the past” if they had a difficult road to diagnosis.
Most of the 50 doctors interviewed for the study reported that misdiagnoses were common in autoimmunity, but few had realised that the repercussions of these misdiagnoses were so severe and long lasting.
Reassuringly, almost all of them were saddened and motivated to improve their patients’ experiences. Several explained that they thought they were being reassuring by telling patients that their symptoms were most likely to be psychological or stress-related and thought this would be preferable to patients worrying about having a disease.
Although many people experience mental health and psychosomatic symptoms, and doctors must consider them as a possible explanation, a clear lesson from our study is that psychosomatic (mis)diagnoses are rarely seen as reassuring to patients with autoimmune disease symptoms. Rather, they are usually deeply damaging with lifelong and life-changing repercussions.
Melanie Sloan receives funding from LUPUS UK, The Lupus Trust, Vasculitis UK, and NIHR. She is an Associate Editor for Rheumatology (Oxford) journal and receives consultancy fees to her Long-Term Conditions Research Group at Cambridge Department of Public Health from Otoimmune, a company dedicated to creating innovative tools and resources to empower people with autoimmune conditions to better understand, manage, and improve their health.
Source: The Conversation – UK – By Aida Hajro, Chair in International Business, University of Leeds, and Founding Co-Director of Migration, Business & Society, University of Leeds
The UK is far from the only country to be caught in a heated debate over its migration system and border security. Unfortunately, it is unlikely to get its response right, because the UK debate ignores a fundamental truth: migration trends largely follow economic cycles and labour demand.
It is well-documented that immigration increases during periods of economic growth and declines during downturns. Furthermore, Brexit has aggravated the UK’s labour shortages – a pinch being felt across nearly every work sector.
Nearly 40% of UK businesses have not been able to grow or take advantage of new opportunities because of these labour shortages.
Public discussions, including recent news coverage, tend to focus on border control and enforcement while overlooking the economic realities that shape migration. Past and present UK governments have largely failed to address the fact that migration is driven by the needs of UK businesses – and is often facilitated by informal recruitment systems, due to the lack of efficient legal migration channels.
Our recent research backs up the idea that demand for labour is a major driver of both documented and undocumented (also known as “irregular”) immigration. Despite not being legally allowed to work, undocumented migrants are still sought after because of the shortages.
Efforts to “crack down” on irregular migration often fail because businesses – especially in sectors like agriculture, healthcare, construction and the service industry – continue to rely on these workers. So without addressing labour shortages and recruitment practices, policies to restrict migration won’t work.
But who bears the cost of migration? It’s not the UK government.
Like most countries, the UK requires prospective workers to obtain a work visa while they are still in their country of origin. Getting this paperwork done is costly and complicated. A worker needs to apply, certify translations of the required documents, in some cases undergo a medical examination, cover travel expenses, pay the visa application fee, and show proof that they have enough personal savings to support themselves in the UK.
To get to the UK, many rely on licensed recruitment agencies, known as “sponsors”. However, neither these sponsors nor the employers who desperately need workers are legally required to cover the costs of migration. For instance, the UK’s seasonal worker scheme, designed to provide much-needed labour for agriculture, does not require employers to pay for visa fees or recruitment expenses.
This is a major weakness in the system, as it leaves the burden of migration costs on prospective workers – people who are ready to take on low-paid and seasonal jobs that UK citizens often avoid. To pay their way, many of these workers borrow from private money-lenders in their home countries, whose monthly interest rates can be excessive. Unsurprisingly, some turn to people smugglers.
These smugglers often operate a business model that offers shortcuts for entering the UK, frequently making false promises about the length of employment and wages on offer. Studies show that most migrants are aware of the severe risks involved in using these illicit services, yet they still do due to the lack of better alternatives.
The Employer Pays Principle
Crossing the Channel is not the primary source of undocumented migration into the UK. The main issue is people overstaying legally granted visas, as the renewal process is complex and costly.
It is no secret in the business world that migrant workers are exposed to significant costs just to access employment. To address this, the Institute for Human Rights and Business – a UK-based thinktank – introduced the Employer Pays Principle (EPP). This asserts that the costs of migration should be paid not by the workers but by employers. Leading corporations in the UK including Unilever, Morrisons, Waitrose and IHG Hotels & Resorts have adopted EPP.
However, embracing this principle can be much more challenging for small and medium-sized enterprises (SMEs). The more-than-800 premises, including nail salons and takeaways, raided across the UK in January 2025 are unlikely to have the human resources and financial means to cover migration costs for the workers they need. Issuing civil penalty notices and demanding that SMEs pay £60,000 per worker if found liable will not solve the problem of undocumented workers.
In general, punitive policies do not stop migration. They simply make it more precarious for already vulnerable people.
And the government’s social media campaigns in countries like Vietnam and Albania, aimed at discouraging people from illegal travel to the UK, are also unlikely to work. The EU tried similar policies between 2015 and 2019 at a cost of nearly €45 million (£37 million) – and they largely failed.
The UK government has run campaigns aimed at discouraging would-be migrants from Vietnam.
To prevent undocumented migration, firms in need of workers should take responsibility for covering the actual costs of migration. Large firms should be legally required to do so, while for SMEs, the UK government could consider ways to improve access to financing and advisory services. It should also consider incentives and rewards for companies that have voluntarily adopted the EPP or introduced other good practices.
Important next steps
It is possible to estimate the cost of responsibly recruiting a migrant worker from a specific country to the UK. Providing clear and open access to this information would be another important step towards facilitating legal migration routes. After all, universities, consultancies and non-governmental organisations are collecting this data. Cross-sector partnerships could save time and money.
Social media campaigns should prioritise educating potential migrants about UK immigration laws and their rights. This would be more valuable than focusing on the risks of undocumented journeys.
It is also crucial to evaluate whether educational campaigns are more effective than those aimed at deterring migration. The government should remain open to abandoning any overseas social media campaigns that don’t demonstrate cost-effectiveness.
The solution starts with accepting the realities of migration and acknowledging labour market forces. Then, creating the right regulatory environment will reduce the human cost of irregular migration, while supporting UK businesses to find the workers they need.
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.
Source: The Conversation – USA – By Paul Shafer, Assistant Professor of Health Law, Policy and Management, Boston University
Speaker of the House Mike Johnson addresses the media on Feb. 25, 2025, after the House narrowly passed his budget resolution calling for big spending cuts. Kayla Bartkowski/Getty Images
The Conversation U.S. asked Paul Shafer and Nicole Huberfeld, Boston University health policy and law professors, to explain why cutting Medicaid spending would be difficult and what the consequences might be.
What is Medicaid’s role in the health care system?
Created in 1965 along with Medicare, the public health insurance program for older Americans, Medicaid pays for the health care needs of low-income adults and children, including more than 1 in 3 people with disabilities. It also covers more than 12 million who qualify for both Medicare and Medicaid because they are both poor and over 65.
In addition, this safety net program pays the health care costs of more than 2 in 5 U.S. births. Medicaid is a joint federal/state program, driven by federal funding and rules, with the states administering it.
So far, 40 states – as well as Washington, D.C. – have participated in Medicaid expansion. The program’s growth has reduced the number of Americans without health insurance and narrowed coverage gaps for people of color and those with low-wage jobs who typically do not get employer-sponsored coverage.
Hundreds of studies have found that Medicaid expansion has improved access to care and the health of the people who gained coverage, while reducing mortality and bolstering state economies, among other positive outcomes.
Bishop Ronnie Crudup Sr., center, seen in May 2024, has called for the Mississippi Legislature to expand Medicaid in the state. AP Photo/Rogelio V. Solis
In an interesting coincidence, Medicaid itself costs around $880 billion a year between federal and state government spending. That suggests Republicans are aiming for an approximately 10% cut.
How does the program work?
If you’re eligible for Medicaid, by law you can enroll in the program at any time and get health insurance coverage.
If you require treatment for a condition Medicaid covers, whether it’s breast cancer or the flu, that happens with no – or low – out-of-pocket costs. Being enrolled in Medicaid means your medical treatment is covered and cannot be denied for budgetary reasons. The federal government contributes a share of what states pay for the health care of residents who enroll, but it can’t decide how much to spend on Medicaid – states do.
The federal match rate is linked to the per capita income of each state. That means a state with lower per capita income gets a higher federal match, with all states getting at least 50%. For states that participate in the Medicaid expansion, the federal match is 90% across the board for that population.
A dozen states have so-called trigger laws on their books that could automatically revoke Medicaid expansion if this enhanced match rate is lowered.
How can the federal government reduce its Medicaid spending?
The federal government could simply adjust the match rate, shifting more of the cost of Medicaid to states. But prior proposals have suggested a larger change, either through per capita caps or block grants.
Per capita caps would place a per-person cap on federal funding, while block grants would place a total limit on how much the federal government would contribute to a state’s costs for Medicaid each year. In turn, the states would likely cover fewer people, reduce their benefits, pay less for care, or some combination of such cost-cutting measures.
Either per capita caps or block grants would require a massive transformation in how Medicaid operates.
The program has always provided open-ended funding to states, and both states and beneficiaries rely on the stability of federal funds to make the program work. Imposing caps or block grants would force states to contribute significantly more money to the program or cut enrollment drastically. Assuming a substantial cut in federal funding for Medicaid, millions could lose health insurance coverage they cannot afford to get elsewhere.
Speaker Mike Johnson said that per capita caps and changing the federal match rates are not on the table, but they were included in the earlier House Republican memo detailing potential cuts.
House Minority Leader Hakeem Jeffries, a New York Democrat, flanked by his fellow House Democrats, criticizes the House Republicans’ budget bill at the U.S. Capitol on Feb. 25, 2025. Saul Loeb/AFP via Getty Images
What else could happen?
Another idea many Republicans say they support is to add what are known as “work requirements.” The first Trump administration approved state proposals for Medicaid beneficiaries to complete a minimum number of hours of “community engagement” in activities like work, job training, education or community service to enroll and maintain Medicaid eligibility. This is despite the fact that the majority of Medicaid enrollees already work, are disabled, are caregivers for a loved one, or are in school.
Some politicians argue that making people work to receive Medicaid benefits would help them transition to employer-based coverage, so adding that restriction may sound like common sense. However, the paperwork this requires can lead to lots of working people getting kicked out of the program and is very costly to implement. Also, job training programs, volunteering and education, unless in a degree program, generally don’t come with health insurance coverage, making this reasoning faulty.
When Arkansas implemented Medicaid work requirements in 2018, despite the majority of enrollees already working, about 18,000 people lost coverage. The policy was poorly understood, and enrollees had trouble reporting their work activity. What’s more, the employment of low-income adults didn’t grow.
The Government Accountability Office – an independent, nonpartisan government agency – has estimated that preventing payments which shouldn’t be made, or overpayments, could lead to $50 billion in federal savings per year. The GAO cautions that “not all improper payments are the result of fraud.” This significant sum is still nowhere near the scale of the cuts Republicans apparently want to make.
Should Medicaid be cut by anything close to $880 billion over the next decade, we’d expect to see millions of America’s poorest and most vulnerable people kicked out of the program and wind up uninsured. But that would only be the beginning of their problems. Uninsured people are more likely to wait too long before seeing a doctor when they get sick or injured, leading to worse health outcomes and widening the gaps in health between haves and have-nots.
Paul Shafer receives research funding from the National Institutes of Health, Agency for Healthcare Research and Quality, and Department of Veterans Affairs. The views expressed in this article are those of the authors and do not necessarily reflect the position or policy of these agencies or the United States government.
Nicole Huberfeld does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.
Source: The Conversation – USA – By Ross Lazear, Instructor in Atmospheric and Environmental Sciences, University at Albany, State University of New York
“How are clouds’ shapes made?” – Amanda, age 5, Chile
I’m a meteorologist, and I’ve been fascinated by weather since I was 8 years old. I grew up in Minnesota, where the weather changes from wind-whipping blizzards in winter to severe thunderstorms – sometimes with tornadoes – in the summer. So, it’s not all that surprising that I’ve spent most of my life looking at clouds.
All clouds form as a result of saturation – that’s when the air contains so much water vapor that it begins producing liquid or ice.
Once you understand how certain clouds develop their shapes, you can learn to forecast the weather.
Clouds that look like cartoon cotton balls or cauliflower are made up of tiny liquid water droplets and are called cumulus clouds.
Often, these are fair-weather clouds that form when the Sun warms the ground and the warm air rises. You’ll often see them on humid summer days.
Cumulus clouds over Lander, Wyo. Ross Lazear, CC BY-ND
However, if the air is particularly warm and humid, and the atmosphere above is much colder, cumulus clouds can rapidly grow vertically into cumulonimbus. When the edges of these clouds look especially crisp, it’s a sign that heavy rain or snow may be imminent.
Wispy cirrus are ice clouds
When cumulonimbus clouds grow high enough into the atmosphere, the temperature becomes cold enough for ice clouds, or cirrus, to form.
Clouds made up entirely of ice are usually more transparent. In some cases, you can see the Sun or Moon through them.
Cirrus clouds over the roof of Bard College in Annandale-on-Hudson, N.Y. Ross Lazear, CC BY-ND
Cirrus clouds that forms atop a thunderstorm spread outward and can form anvil clouds. These clouds flatten on top as they reach the stratosphere, where the atmosphere begins to warm with height.
However, most cirrus clouds aren’t associated with storms at all. There are many ice clouds associated with tranquil weather that are simply regions of the atmosphere with more moisture but not precipitation.
Fog and stratus clouds
Clouds are a result of saturation, but saturated air can also exist at ground level. When this occurs, we call it fog.
In temperatures below freezing, fog can actually deposit ice onto objects at or near the ground, called rime ice.
Reading clouds, with the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration.
When clouds form thick layers, we add the word “stratus,” or “layer,” to the name. Stratus can occur just above the ground, or a bit higher up – we call it altostratus then. It can occur even higher and become cirrostratus, or a layer or ice clouds.
If there’s enough moisture and lift, stratus clouds can create rain or snow. These are nimbostratus.
How mountains can create their own clouds
There are a number of other unique and beautiful cloud types that can form as air rises over mountain slopes and other topography.
Lenticular clouds, for example, can look like flying saucers hovering just above, or near, mountaintops. Lenticular clouds can actually form far from mountains, as wind over a mountain range creates an effect like ripples in a pond.
A banner cloud appears to stream out from the Matterhorn, in the Alps on the border between Italy and Switzerland. Zacharie Grossen via Wikimedia, CC BY
Rarer are banner clouds, which form from horizontally spinning air on one side of a mountain.
Wind plays a big role
You might have looked up at the sky and noticed one layer of clouds moving in a different direction from another. Clouds move along with the wind, so what you’re seeing is the wind changing direction with height.
Cirrus clouds at the level of the jet stream – often about 6 miles (10 kilometers), above the ground – can sometimes move at over 200 miles per hour (320 kilometers per hour). But because they are so high up, it’s often hard to tell how fast they are moving.
Ross Lazear does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.
Trump is not the first American leader to dream of northern expansion. To me, a historian of early U.S.-Canadian relations, these designs suggest not power, but weakness and simmering divisions inside the United States.
Early Americans’ lust for Canada
Even before independence, social conflict helped turn American eyes northward. Throughout the 18th century, England’s Colonial population in North America doubled every 25 years. Successive generations of Colonists along the Eastern Seaboard had to compete with each other, and with Indigenous people, for resources, arable land and trade.
These unhappy, land-hungry Colonists clamored for expansion, instigating a series of wars against both the French and Spanish empires for control of the northeastern half of the continent, culminating in the French and Indian War, from 1754 to 1763.
While these Colonists were animated by their thirst for expansion, they had little else unifying them. Many Americans today are familiar with the “Join, or Die” cartoon Ben Franklin printed, featuring a segmented snake with each section representing one of the Colonies. However, few realize that it was not crafted during the Revolution to unite Colonists against Britain, but in 1754, to rally divided British Colonists in their war against France.
Attempts to settle other lands ceded by France were no more successful. Fearful that Colonists might provoke a costly war with Indigenous people, Parliament issued the Proclamation of 1763, which attempted to protect native land by discouraging Colonial expansion westward. Many Colonists turned against Britain in response, especially those like George Washington, who had speculated in the land west of the Appalachian Mountains.
The failed invasion of Canada
In the earliest months of the Revolution, the Continental Congress authorized an American invasion of British-occupied Quebec. In a letter addressed to “Friends and Brethren” of Canada, Washington himself implored Canadians to join invading troops. “The Cause of America, and of Liberty, is the Cause of every virtuous American Citizen,” he wrote. “Come then, ye generous Citizens, range yourselves under the Standard of general Liberty.”
But at home, Colonists were far from united in their rebellion. Historians estimate that around 20% of the white Colonial population, more than 500,000 people, remained loyal to Britain, and an even larger number hoped to remain neutral.
The difficult realities of conquest also turned many soldiers against the invasion of Canada. In late October 1775, nearly a quarter of the underfed and overworked troops under the command of soon-to-be turncoat Benedict Arnold abandoned their arduous journey through interior Maine toward Canada. The soldiers who carried on prayed these deserters “might die by the way, or meet with some disaster, Equal to the Cowardly dastardly and unfriendly Spirit they discover’d in returning Back without orders.”
Following American independence, tens of thousands of loyal Colonists sailed north to Canada, determined to build British colonies that would become what one of these refugees called “the envy of the American States.” Their presence on the contested northern border was an unsettling reminder to the new American nation about the power Britain still exerted on the continent.
Conflict with Britain over land and trade in the early 1800s reopened old divisions among Americans. Virginia Congressman John Randolph expressed his frustrations with renewed calls for a northern invasion. “We have but one word, like the whip-poor-will, but one eternal monstrous tone,” an exasperated Randolph noted, “Canada! Canada! Canada!”
The debate over Canada was one of many issues dividing the nation, and as President James Madison would later explain, he hoped that war would help unify a polarized nation. His gamble paid off, but only after opponents from New England flirted with the idea of secession to negotiate their own end to conflict.
One example of annexation talk from the 20th century, however, might serve as a warning to Trump, showing how aggressive rhetoric toward Canada has led to political defeat. In 1911, a bill creating free trade with Canada passed Congress with the support of President William Taft, despite objections from protectionists in both parties.
In an attempt to have the agreement defeated in the Canadian Parliament, U.S. opponents from both sides of the aisle attempted to stir popular sentiment against the U.S. in Canada. Champ Clark, the Democratic speaker of the House and a front-runner for the presidential nomination in 1912, seized on the moment.
“I hope to see the day when the American flag will float over every square foot of the British North American possessions, clear to the North Pole,” Champ proclaimed on the House floor. William Stiles Bennet, a Republican, proposed a resolution that would authorize the president to begin negotiations for annexation.
Back home, however, the plan backfired. Woodrow Wilson, not Clark, secured the Democratic nomination in 1912 and would go on to defeat both the incumbent Taft and former President Theodore Roosevelt. The bluster led not to success and victory, but loss and defeat.
G. Patrick O’Brien does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.
When the U.S. government deported 177 Venezuelans on Feb. 20, 2025, the Department of Homeland Security alleged that 80 of the deportees were members of the Venezuelan gang Tren de Aragua.
The U.S. State Department went so far as to designate Tren de Aragua a foreign terrorist organization in an effort to stop “the campaigns of violence and terror committed by international cartels and transnational organizations.”
There is little reliable information about Tren de Aragua – but no shortage of sensationalist news reports and Immigration and Customs Enforcement raids claiming to target them.
We are sociologists who have spent a combined 37 years researching gangs, crime and policing in Venezuela. Our research in Venezuela, and our colleagues’ research in other countries, suggests that incarceration and mass deportations of Venezuelans living in the U.S., whether they have ties to the group or not, will likely strengthen Tren de Aragua rather than cripple it.
Indeed, we have already seen how these strategies contributed to the expansion of street gangs in El Salvador and Honduras by creating new opportunities for members to network and become more organized.
What is Tren de Aragua?
According to investigative journalistsand a handful of academic studies, Tren de Aragua was initially founded by Hector “El Niño” Guerrero and two other men in 2014. The three men were imprisoned in Tocorón prison in the state of Aragua.
By 2017, Tren de Aragua began to be known as a “megabanda,” a category the local press in Venezuela use to refer to large organized criminal groups. The term arose to highlight the size of some street gangs, which at the time was unprecedented in Venezuela.
Tren de Aragua’s growth surged as a result of mass incarceration policies that began under Venezuela’s former President Hugo Chávez and expanded under current President Nicolás Maduro. Incarceration rates began to increase in 2009 and were exacerbated by police raids deployed in 2010 in marginalized neighborhoods across the country. Venezuela’s prisons became filled with young, poor men.
Crowded togetherin inhumane conditions, the men began to organize into prison gangs with clear hierarchies. They accumulated vast profits by charging prisoners fees for food, use of space and protection from inmate violence. They also opened and ran businesses, including a club, inside Tocorón prison.
Members of different gangs in and outside the prison also began to communicate and share information about criminal activities such as kidnapping and extortion. This strengthened social networks and expanded their illegal enterprises.
Tren de Aragua, still based in the Tocorón prison at that time, took advantage of this mass migration. It expanded the group’s business portfolio to include human trafficking and sexual exploitation of Venezuelan female migrants in Chile, Colombia and Peru.
It’s unclear how far beyond Venezuela Tren de Aragua has spread. While the group has certainly expanded operations into the Latin American countries mentioned above, research shows common criminals have posed as Tren de Aragua members in both Colombia and Chile.
Moreover, the arrest of alleged Tren de Aragua members for committing crimes in the U.S. and other countries does not mean that the gang has set up shop in those places. Gang members, same as non-gang members, migrate during crises. They may continue to commit crimes in new places after they arrive. However, it’s important to note that immigration in the U.S. is consistently linked with decreases – not increases – in both violent crime and property crime.
Even some local police departments have questioned the gang’s expansion into the U.S.
Venezuelan security forces wrested control of Tocorón prison from the Tren de Aragua gang in 2023. Yuri Cortez/AFP via Getty Images
Making matters worse
Deportations do not address the urgent situation faced by many migrants who leave their homelands in search of a better, safer future.
When governments prioritize the spectacle of deportations to deal with migration, they contribute to the expansion of even more resilient networks of criminal enterprises.
These same policies could also contribute to the growth of Tren de Aragua within Latin America.
Prison isolates large groups of excluded and marginalized people and constrains them to brutal conditions. This enables and encourages the social networks that fuel illegal markets and criminal activity beyond the walls of prisons.
Rising xenophobia
Another harmful outcome of the policies we have discussed here is that they may fuel xenophobia toward and criminalization of Venezuelan immigrants living in the U.S.
This closes off opportunities and harms people already devastated by economic, political and humanitarian crises in their home country.
Meanwhile, recent cuts in U.S. foreign aid to countries with large Venezuelan populations, such as Colombia and Peru, will likely exacerbate the migration crisis by constraining opportunities for Venezuelans.
Future waves of migrants will be easy prey for criminal organizations like Tren de Aragua, which has turned human trafficking into a lucrative business. And with current policies of cutbacks, incarceration and repression, Tren de Aragua will likely continue to grow and fill its coffers.
The authors do not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and have disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.
The start of President Donald Trump’s second term has been a bonanza for the attorneys general of blue states. As the president has released his blizzard of executive orders and axed federal funding and programs on which states rely, these attorneys general have filed suits designed to put the brakes on what Trump is trying to accomplish.
As the Washington Post reported on Feb. 22, 2025, “In the past month alone, multistate coalitions have sued the Trump administration seven times.”
In early February, the attorneys general of Minnesota, Oregon and Washington sought and were granted an order to stop the Trump administration from implementing an executive order that, according to Lambda Legal, an LGBTQ+ rights advocacy group, “targets transgender and gender-diverse youth.”
Almost a week later, 14 attorneys general went to court to prevent Elon Musk “from issuing orders to any person in the Executive Branch outside of DOGE and otherwise engaging in the actions of an officer of the United States.”
New York Attorney General Letitia James and Connecticut Attorney General William Tong both sued to stop DOGE from obtaining Americans’ personal data. Michael M. Santiago/Getty Images
As a student of law and politics, I see the attorneys general actions against the Trump administration as the latest chapter of an ongoing story dating to the 19th century in which state officials push back against the national government, breathing life into this country’s federal system. That system, designed by the framers to protect liberty and as a guard against tyranny, gave powers to both federal and state governments.
Hybrid role of state attorneys general
The work of attorneys general in the various states involves a mix of law and politics. As the National Association of Attorneys General describes their role, attorneys general are “chief legal officers” and serve “as counselor to state government agencies and legislatures, and as a representative of the public interest.”
In 43 states, they are elected officials who run for office as partisans. These candidates offer programs and promise to take actions that are typically in line with the platforms of the parties that nominate them. As attorney Marissa Smith wrote in the Cornell Law Review, “The position of State AG has long been said to stand for ‘Aspiring Governor’ rather than Attorney General.”
Smith argues that state attorneys general “have leaned into our nation’s divisive partisanship – often as an integral part of a quest for higher office – and used their traditional roles and powers to grandstand and showcase their party loyalty on a national stage.”
When, as in the recent spate of suits, state attorneys general pursue the federal government or another target on the national stage, there’s really no way for them to lose, politically speaking. As journalist Alan Greenblatt writes, “It’s all upside. If a lawsuit succeeds, you achieve a policy goal. If it fails, you’ve still made a name for yourself and often delayed a policy for months and even years,” especially when that policy is unpopular.
Suing the federal government
There is nothing new about what state attorneys general are now doing. At one time or another, lawsuits against the federal government have come from both Democratic and Republican attorneys general.
For example, during the so-called Gilded Age at the end of the 19th century, because of their “unique institutional position,” progressive state attorneys general “were able to serve as opportunity points for the expression of the ‘public interest’ in the absence of administrative mechanisms or actions by other political institutions,” political scientist Paul Nolette writes.
These attorneys general sued railroad companies and other big businesses, seeking to get state courts to rein in the growing power of what were called at the time “robber barons.”
In the 1980s, state attorneys general banded together to sue federal agencies for failing to enforce the law or to implement acts of Congress, including those concerning the deregulation of industry. A decade later, they launched a concerted campaign of lawsuits against major tobacco companies because the federal government was not, they alleged, adequately regulating the tobacco industry.
And when Barack Obama entered the White House, state attorneys general enthusiastically embraced the role of watchdog and nemesis. Republican state attorneys general led the resistance with lawsuits over health policy, immigration and environmental regulations, using their powers much like their Democratic counterparts are doing today.
Texas Attorney General Ken Paxton claims to have sued the Obama administration 100 times. Justin Lane-Pool/Getty Images
Former West Virginia Solicitor General Elbert Lin, who served as the chief litigator in his state’s attorney general’s office, tells the story this way: “During the eight years of the Obama Administration, states led mostly by Republican attorneys general made it a priority, early and often, to challenge President Obama’s initiatives.”
One of them, Texas’ Greg Abbott, sued the Obama administration 31 times, at one point describing his job this way: “I go into the office, I sue the federal government, and I go home.”
During the first Trump administration, Democratic attorneys general continued what had happened under Obama. They filed 138 multistate lawsuits, up from the 78 times Republicans sued the Obama administration.
And at the end of President Joe Biden’s term, Ken Paxton, Texas’ Republican attorney general, issued a press release saying that over the previous four years, he had sued the administration 100 times, calling it “an historic milestone.”
‘Expect to be sued’
Supreme Court Justice Louis Brandeis once called states “laboratories of democracy.” More recently, Jeffrey Rosen of the National Constitution Center praised federalism for continuing “to promote ideological diversity” in an increasingly polarized nation.
That diversity has long been on display in what state attorneys general have done on the national stage.
Today, when some worry that the U.S. constitutional system is breaking down, state attorneys general are trying to realize the founders’ vision of limited government. They are mobilizing legal tools to vindicate legal claims while also using the courts for political purposes.
All presidents should expect to be sued early and often by state attorneys general of the opposite party. But as attorney Jeffrey Toobin writes in The New York Times, “political victories matter more, and last longer, than court cases” in the United States.
In recent years, suits brought by state attorneys general have protected the rights of immigrants, defended reproductive rights and asserted state prerogatives in many areas. But while these lawsuits have an important role to play in America’s constitutional system, what citizens do is more important.
Even successful litigation by state attorneys general typically brings only a one-time victory, but political action is needed to sustain what they achieve in court. And their work cannot be done without the support of the citizens they serve and who, by and large, elect them.
Austin Sarat does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.
Isolationism has deep roots in American foreign policy stretching back to George Washington.FotografiaBasica/Getty Images
Few terms in American foreign policy discourse are as misunderstood or politically charged as “isolationism.”
Often used as a political weapon, the term conjures images of a retreating America, indifferent to global challenges.
However, the reality is more complex. For example, some commentators argue that President Donald Trump’s return to the White House signals a new era of isolationism. But others contend his foreign policy is more akin to “sovereigntism,” which prioritizes national autonomy and decision-making free from external constraints, and advocates for international engagement only when it directly serves a nation’s interests.
Understanding isolationism’s role in U.S. policy requires a closer look at its historical roots and political usage.
‘Entangling alliances’
The idea of avoiding foreign entanglements has been a part of American strategic thinking since the country’s founding. President George Washington’s famous warning against “entangling alliances” reflected a desire to insulate the young republic from European conflicts.
Throughout the 19th century, this sentiment shaped U.S. policy, though not exclusively. The country expanded its influence in the Western Hemisphere, maintained strong economic ties abroad and occasionally intervened in regional affairs.
This cautious approach allowed the U.S. to develop its economy and military strength without becoming deeply embroiled in European rivalries.
After World War I, isolationism became more pronounced. The staggering human and financial costs of the war led many Americans to question deep international involvement. Skepticism toward President Woodrow Wilson’s League of Nations reinforced this sentiment, and in the 1930s, the U.S. passed Neutrality Acts designed to keep the country out of foreign wars. However, this approach proved unsustainable.
Though getting increasingly involved in the European conflict in the years before the attack on Pearl Harbor on Dec. 7, 1941, that day officially led the U.S. into World War II, marking the definitive end of traditional isolationism. With the war’s conclusion, American strategic thinking shifted, recognizing that even partial disengagement was no longer an option in a globalized world.
Isolationism as a slur
In the postwar era, isolationism devolved from a coherent strategic perspective into a term of political derision. During the Cold War, those who opposed military alliances like NATO or U.S. interventions in Koreaand Vietnam were often dismissed as isolationists, regardless of their actual policy preferences.
This framing marginalized critics of U.S. global engagement, even when their concerns were grounded in strategic prudence rather than a reflexive desire to withdraw from the world.
The same pattern persisted going into the 21st century. In debates over U.S. involvement in Iraq, Afghanistan and Ukraine, critics of expansive military commitments were frequently labeled isolationists, despite advocating for a recalibration of foreign policy rather than outright disengagement.
Many of those calling for an end to America’s “forever wars” did not argue for global retreat but for a prioritization of national interests over the broad defense of the so-called rules-based international order.
A persistent myth is that isolationism represents a total disengagement from the world. Historically, even during its peak, isolationism in the U.S. was never absolute. Trade, diplomacy and cultural exchanges continued even in periods marked by reluctance to intervene militarily. What critics of interventionism have historically sought is prudence in foreign affairs – avoiding unnecessary wars while ensuring the protection of core national interests.
Moving beyond isolationism
In recent years, “restraint” has gained traction as a more precise and useful framework for U.S. foreign policy. Unlike isolationism, restraint does not imply withdrawal from global affairs but rather advocates a more selective and strategic approach.
Proponents argue that the U.S. should avoid unnecessary wars, focus on core national interests and work with its allies to maintain stability rather than relying on unilateral military action. This perspective acknowledges the limits of American power and the risks of overextension while still recognizing the necessity of international engagement. Advocates of restraint suggest that recalibrating U.S. foreign policy would allow the country to address pressing domestic concerns while maintaining a strong international presence where it matters most.
As the U.S. reassesses decades of intervention, restraint offers a middle path between disengagement and unrestrained global activism. It encourages a more thoughtful and sustainable approach to foreign policy that prioritizes long-term stability and national interests over automatic involvement in conflicts.
Moving beyond the outdated and politically charged debate over isolationism would, I believe, allow for a more productive conversation about how the U.S. can engage globally in a way that is both effective and aligned with its strategic interests.
Andrew Latham does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.
Source: The Conversation – USA – By Daniel Speed Thompson, Associate Professor of Religious Studies, University of Dayton
Deacons take part in a mass in St. Peter’s Basilica that was supposed to be presided over by Pope Francis.AP Photo/Alessandra Tarantino
For more than two weeks, eyes have been on the Vatican, awaiting news about Pope Francis’ health. The pope has been at Rome’s Gemelli Hospital since Feb. 14, 2025, being treated for double pneumonia and other complications.
When a pope is ill, resigns or passes away, who steps in? And who else helps lead the Holy See? The Conversation U.S. asked Daniel Speed Thompson, a theologian at the University of Dayton, for some insight into Vatican City.
Who are the most powerful people at the Vatican, besides the pope?
The Vatican houses the central government of the Catholic Church and is also an independent city-state. The pope is both the head of the Catholic Church and head of state.
In order to govern both, he has the Roman Curia, meaning “court.” In modern terms, the Curia is the papal bureaucracy. It is an extension of the pope’s authority.
In Catholic doctrine, the pope has the highest authority in the church. He can exercise it alone or with the College of Bishops, made up of all the bishops in the world. Bishops named by the pope to the office of “cardinal” can, if under 80 years old, vote to elect a new pope. Some cardinals, but by no means all, serve in the papal Curia in Rome.
Besides the pope, curial officials who oversee important aspects of the church’s political and religious life are often powerful figures. For example, the secretariat of state, headed by Cardinal Pietro Parolin, oversees relations with other countries and international organizations. It also oversees the Vatican’s diplomatic corps.
Pope Francis smiles as he walks alongside Vatican Secretary of State Pietro Parolin, left, and Cardinal Giuseppe Versaldi at the Vatican in 2014. AP Photo/Gregorio Borgia
The Dicastery – “department” – for the Doctrine of the Faith, led by Cardinal Víctor Manuel Fernández, addresses questions about correct Catholic teaching on faith and morals. The Dicastery of Bishops, headed by Cardinal Robert Prevost, coordinates the nominations of new bishops around the world.
All these officials work under the authority of the pope, advocating for and implementing his agenda. For example, Prevost has suggested that all Catholics should be involved in the selection of bishops. This idea is linked with Francis’ call for a more “synodal” church: one that is less hierarchical and shaped by lay Catholics’ concerns and challenges.
If a pope can’t fulfill his duties, who steps in?
When a pope dies – or resigns, like Benedict XVI did in 2013 – the governance of the Catholic Church formally falls to the College of Cardinals. However, the authority of the college is very limited. On their own, cardinals cannot make any significant decisions concerning faith, morals and worship. Nor can they undo previous papal decisions or change church laws about electing a new pope.
All the heads of the dicasteries lose their office upon the death or resignation of a pope. The College of Cardinals serves as a caretaker government whose primary purpose is to prepare for the election of the new pope and oversee day-to-day workings of the Vatican.
One cardinal, known as the “camerlengo,” is responsible for confirming the pope’s death or resignation. He then assumes control over the pope’s residence and coordinates the funeral, if needed. The camerlengo also takes custody of the Vatican’s property in Rome and supervises details for the upcoming conclave.
Cardinal Camerlengo Kevin Farrell talks with The Associated Press in his office in Rome in 2018. AP Photo/Paolo Santalucia
The day-to-day business of the Catholic Church continues, but no big decisions can be made in the absence of a pope. The church cannot appoint new bishops, and the Vatican cannot start new diplomatic efforts.
Are officials at the Vatican often nominated to be pope?
Sometimes. Francis was a cardinal from Argentina before his election as pope and had not served in the Roman Curia. However, Benedict XVI, Francis’ predecessor, did serve as the prefect of the Congregation – now called Dicastery – for the Doctrine of the Faith. Some recent popes served in the Curia earlier in their career but not immediately before their election.
What do you wish more people understood about the Vatican?
Three things. First, the Vatican is unlike any organization in the world. Its religious mission and political status rest on nearly 2,000 years of history. This complicated story provides a unique tradition that anchors the institution of the Catholic Church, but can also block the church from critical self-examination and renewal.
Second, the Vatican is like every organization in the world. Vatican officials can be faithful to the highest standards of their religion, truly wishing to serve the church and the common good of humanity. But they can also be flagrantly immoral, even criminals, and careerist seekers of status or luxury. Francis has consistently called out priests and bishops who see themselves as somehow superior by virtue of their office or their ordination.
Finally, compared with the massive bureaucracies of modern governments and corporations, the Vatican is relatively small and not as wealthy as it is often portrayed.
Daniel Speed Thompson does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.
Source: The Conversation – Global Perspectives – By Matthew Sussex, Associate Professor (Adj), Griffith Asia Institute; and Fellow, Strategic and Defence Studies Centre, Australian National University
Has any nation squandered its diplomatic capital, plundered its own political system, attacked its partners and supplicated itself before its far weaker enemies as rapidly and brazenly as Donald Trump’s America?
The fiery Oval Office meeting between Trump and Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky on Friday saw the American leader try to publicly humiliate the democratically elected leader of a nation that had been invaded by a rapacious and imperialistic aggressor.
And this was all because Zelensky refused to sign an act of capitulation, criticised Putin (who has tried to have Zelensky killed on numerous occasions), and failed to bend the knee to Trump, the country’s self-described king.
The Oval Office meeting became heated in a way that has rarely been seen between world leaders.
What’s worse is Trump has now been around so long that his oafish behaviour has become normalised. Together with his attack dog, Vice President JD Vance, Trump has thrown the Overton window – the spectrum of subjects politically acceptable to the public – wide open.
Previously sensible Republicans are now either cowed or co-opted. Elon Musk’s so-called Department of Government Efficiency (DOGE) is gutting America’s public service and installing toadies in place of professionals, while his social media company, X, is platforming ads from actual neo-Nazis.
The Department of Health and Human Services is helmed by Robert F. Kennedy Jr., a vaccine denier, just as Americans have begun dying from measles for the first time in a decade. And America’s health and medical research has been channelled into ideologically “approved” topics.
At the Pentagon, in a breathtaking act of self-sabotage, Defence Secretary Pete Hegseth has ordered US Cyber Command to halt all operations targeting Russia.
And cuts to USAID funding are destroying US soft power, creating a vacuum that will gleefully be filled by China. Other Western aid donors are likely to follow suit so they can spend more on their militaries in response to US unilateralism.
What is Trump’s strategy?
Trump’s wrecking ball is already having seismic global effects, mere weeks after he took office.
The US vote against a UN General Assembly resolution condemning Russia for starting the war against Ukraine placed it in previously unthinkable company – on the side of Russia, Belarus and North Korea. Even China abstained from the vote.
In the United Kingdom, a YouGov poll of more than 5,000 respondents found that 48% of Britons thought it was more important to support Ukraine than maintain good relations with the US. Only 20% favoured supporting America over Ukraine.
And Trump’s bizarre suggestion that China, Russia and the US halve their respective defence budgets is certain to be interpreted as a sign of weakness rather than strength.
The oft-used explanation for his behaviour is that it echoes the isolationism of one of his ideological idols, former US President Andrew Jackson. Trump’s aim seems to be ring-fencing American businesses with high tariffs, while attempting to split Russia away from its relationship with China.
These arguments are both economically illiterate and geopolitically witless. Even a cursory understanding of tariffs reveals that they drive inflation because they are paid by importers who then pass the costs on to consumers. Over time, they are little more than sugar pills that turn economies diabetic, increasingly reliant on state protections from unending trade wars.
And the “reverse Kissinger” strategy – a reference to the US role in exacerbating the Sino-Soviet split during the Cold War – is wishful thinking to the extreme.
Putin would have to be utterly incompetent to countenance a move away from Beijing. He has invested significant time and effort to improve this relationship, believing China will be the dominant power of the 21st century.
Putin would be even more foolish to embrace the US as a full-blown partner. That would turn Russia’s depopulated southern border with China, stretching over 4,300 kilometres, into the potential front line of a new Cold War.
What does this mean for America’s allies?
While Trump’s moves have undoubtedly strengthened the US’ traditional adversaries, they have also weakened and alarmed its friends.
Put simply, no American ally – either in Europe or Asia – can now have confidence Washington will honour its security commitments. This was brought starkly home to NATO members at the Munich Security Conference in February, where US representatives informed a stunned audience that America may no longer view itself as the main guarantor of European security.
Vice President JD Vance delivers a strong message to European leaders.
The swiftness of US disengagement means European countries must not only muster the will and means to arm themselves quickly, but also take the lead in collectively providing for Ukraine’s security.
Whether they can do so remains unclear. Europe’s history of inaction does not bode well.
US allies also face choices in Asia. Japan and South Korea will now be seriously considering all options – potentially even nuclear weapons – to deter an emboldened China.
There are worries in Australia, as well. Can it pretend nothing has changed and hope the situation will then normalise after the next US presidential election?
The future of AUKUS, the deal to purchase (and then co-design) US nuclear powered submarines, is particularly uncertain.
Does it make strategic sense to pursue full integration with the US military when the White House could just treat Taipei, Tokyo, Seoul and Canberra with the same indifference it has displayed towards its friends in Europe?
Ultimately, the chaos Trump 2.0 has unleashed in such a short amount of time is both unprecedented and bewildering. In seeking to put “America First”, Trump is perversely hastening its decline. He is leaving America isolated and untrusted by its closest friends.
And, in doing so, the world’s most powerful nation has also made the world a more dangerous, uncertain and ultimately an uglier place to be.
Matthew Sussex has received funding from the Australian Research Council, the Atlantic Council, the Fulbright Foundation, the Carnegie Foundation, the Lowy Institute and various Australian government departments and agencies.
In a year with few surprises in the awards categories, there was also a dearth of surprises on the red carpet. The sartorial themes included sparkling metallics, coloured menswear and bows, bows and more bows.
Metallic gowns that resemble the Oscar statue are a familiar sight at the Academy Awards and this year was no different. Some of the standouts included best actress nominee Demi Moore in a magnificently glittering silver Armani Privé gown, Selena Gomez in custom Ralph Lauren encrusted with 16,000 individual blush-toned jewel teardrops, and Emma Stone in a minimalist Louis Vuitton sheath covered in iridescent fish scales.
In the menswear category, tuxedos reign supreme. This year was notable only for the diversity of colours in which these suits came.
Best actor nominee Timothée Chalamet lived up to his reputation for monochrome, richly hued ensembles in a custom butter yellow leather suit by Givenchy, paired with a matching silk shirt and delicate neck brooch in place of a tie. His best actor nominated compatriot, Colman Domingo (one of the best dressed men in Hollywood) was pristine in a double-breasted red silk jacket with black lapels, black trousers and matching red shirt by Valentino, similarly eschewing a tie in favour of a fine gold brooch. Andrew Garfield wore louche chocolate brown Gucci and Jeremy Strong wore a suit by Loro Piana in an unusual tone of olive green.
Bows of varying size and stature were perhaps the strongest theme of the night.
Best actress winner Mikey Madison in black and pink Dior, best supporting actress nominee Felicity Jones in shimmering liquid silver Armani, Elle Fanning in white and black Givenchy and Lupita Nyong’o in white Chanel were all adorned with bows at their waists.
The most remarkable bow of the night though was best actress nominee Cynthia Erivo in a structured deep emerald-green velvet Louis Vuitton gown, the broad, wing-like sleeves of which were crafted as a bow.
Notable mentions must also go to those attendees who do not fit neatly into any thematic category. Best supporting actress nominee Ariana Grande wore a meticulously crafted pale pink Schiaparelli confection and Lisa (of Blackpink and now White Lotus fame) perfected a feminine take on masculine suiting in a tuxedo dress by Markgong.
The only real surprise was the lack of political statements on display. Unlike recent years, when pins and ribbons in support of Ukraine and Palestine were widely worn, this year only Guy Pearce was spotted wearing a Free Palestine pin, Conclave writer Peter Straughan wore a Ukrainian flag pin and Kayo Shekoni had “free Congo” emblazoned on the sole of her high heels.
– Harriette Richards
The best picture: Anora
And the best picture Oscar goes to … Anora – the film that was favoured to win, so no surprises here.
Though he had been working for more than a decade at the time, writer-director-editor Sean Baker came onto the independent movie scene with a bang with 2015’s Tangerine, a gimmicky film that was mainly celebrated for being shot on an iPhone. Why this would be celebrated is anyone’s guess. I suspect it’s because of the “I could do it too” factor – something the average person certainly couldn’t say if we’re talking 35mm celluloid.
Since then, Baker’s films have relished in embracing the digital, neon world, but always in a kind of sentimental and shallow, rather than critical, register. None of his films are awful – and maybe that’s saying something in this day and age. Anora also is not awful, but it’s not particularly memorable either.
Anora follows a run of the mill American dream-type story about a hard-working stripper who seems to strike fairytale gold when a young, fun Russian oligarch falls in love with her. Only the dream turns out to be more of a nightmare (kind of) when things don’t quite work out and the film ends with the titular character once again independent and free.
The idea of undercutting the fairytale setup of the typical rom-com is not at all original, and the film strikes me as even more schmaltzy in its rejection of the fairytale dream than if it had embraced it and played like a tween-focused Nickelodeon film (it’s about as poignant as this).
The film’s cardinal sin, however – and it’s certainly not alone in this – is its critical overlength. Each of the film’s sections could have had some 20 minutes cut and we would have had an enjoyably tight romp at 80 minutes. Instead, Anora drags on, swept up in its imagining of its own profundity – at times pretentious, but mainly tedious.
– Ari Mattes
Not the year to stick a neck out
The speeches this year were conspicuously meek. No announcer majorly insulted anyone else. No winner assaulted anyone else. Even the James Bond retrospective lacked energy. What’s going on in Hollywood?
There are clues that help explain this curious flatness. Host Conan O’Brien mentioned the pressure of “divisive politics” while reflecting on California’s wildfires. Several winners spoke about the importance of shared experience, of what unites us, of film as a medium that brings people together, a force for “good and progress in the world” and “a reminder not to let hate go unchecked”.
The directors of No Other Land, receiving their Oscar for best documentary, shared the one clear critical voice. Palestinian Basel Adra wished his newborn daughter a life without the fear that governs daily life in his homeland. Israeli co-director Yuval Abraham agreed: “There is another way. It’s not too late for life and for the living. There is no other way.”
However, that was the only moment people at the Oscars seemed willing to confront the political elephant in the room.
Anora director Sean Baker used his last (of four!) acceptance speeches to compel more people to help keep cinema doors open. He made his point passionately: this was the best way to sustain an industry that could continue to make brilliant movies. That said, the most emotive speeches of past Oscars events went much further than just commenting on the bread and butter concerns of the film industry.
This year, there were more clues in what people did not say. There were feints at Russian dictators – but nobody mentioned the war in Ukraine. There was no discussion of a certain election result, nor of filmmakers’ fears that Washington is now in the control of a governing faction that loathes them. Most revealing of all: nobody raised a peep about the President or his friends.
Hollywood’s collective discipline was on show tonight – and 2025 is not the year to stick a neck out.
– Tom Clark
A banner year for independent film
Independent films were the big winners for this year’s Oscars. While many of the technical awards went to the big budget films, such as Wicked (the US$145 million film won costume design and production design) and Dune: Part 2 (made at a budget of US$190 million, and winning sound and visual effects), the night’s major awards went to small productions.
While the definitions of “independence” and “studio” films don’t exist in a neat binary when it comes to production and global distribution, we can distinguish between film juggernauts and smaller films.
Three independent films won significant awards that are of note. Latvian film Flow was the first independent film to win best animated feature, up against major films Inside Out 2 (Pixar Films) and The Wild Robot (DreamWorks).
The film follows a cat, a dog, a capybara, a secretary bird and a ring-tailed lemur navigating a post-apocalyptic world with rising sea levels. The film also only used free and open-source software Blender and mostly used sounds from real world counterparts of the various characters. It was made for a budget of just €3.5 million (A$5.9 million).
The best documentary film nominees were dominated by independent films. Notably, the winner No Other Land has sadly been unable to find a distributor to release the film in the United States. (It is available for streaming in Australia on DocPlay, and in select cinemas.) The film was only eligible because the Film Lincoln Centre in New York facilitated a one-week, qualifying theatrical run.
The night’s top glories went to Anora, made on a budget of just US$6 million (A$9.7 million) and taking home the awards for best film, director, actress, screenplay and editing.
In his acceptance speech for best director, Sean Baker spoke of the importance of films getting a theatrical release. Films, he said, are about humanity – and that is best experienced in watching a film with other people.
During awards season, Baker has often spoken about the importance of small budget films in the expression of core human experiences.
The final message of the night went to Baker when he thanked the Academy for recognising a truly independent film: “Long live independent film!”
Indeed, independent films ruled this year’s Oscars.
– Stuart Richards
Best actor and actress
Mikey Madison, who won the best actress award for Anora, is quite good in the role. That said, it’s difficult to evaluate her performance in such a meandering film.
She tries hard playing a stripper who falls for Prince Charming – a Russian oligarch (Hollywood’s anti-Russian sentiment has certainly grown in recent years) who turns out to be a bit of a weakling with meanie parents. But Madison never really convincingly embodies the character, and we’re ever aware as we watch the film that she’s an actress working her way through relevant emotions and intensities.
That said, Madison is good at yelling and stripping, and this is the main way she shows her chops here. She screamed well in Once Upon a Time… in Hollywood (2019), too. The bar this year was admittedly pretty low, and truth be told Madison’s performance in Anora (aside from Fernanda Torres for I’m Still Here) is probably the best out of the nominees.
In contrast, Adrien Brody, who won the best actor award, is absolutely unforgettable in the flawed but magnificent The Brutalist – the best he’s been since The Pianist, and the deserved winner by a mile out of a similarly mediocre field. Brody is simply a pleasure to watch, and drives, in a wholly embodied way, this grandiose and exceedingly long film (the fact it doesn’t feel long is largely due to his magnetism).
The screenplay, in which the character comes across as a combination of arrogant, sweet and at times comedic, allows Brody to display the full range of his talent, and he plays the whole thing with an endearing vulnerability. But, again, it’s unfair to compare Brody and Madison – The Brutalist is a spectacularly accomplished cinematic epic, while Anora feels as stylish and profound as a social media video (I know that’s the point, but that doesn’t make it any more compelling).
– Ari Mattes
A lacklustre year for music
This was a strong year for music-based films, with three of the most nominated ones being musicals of various types: the big-budget Broadway adaptation Wicked, the original film musical Emilia Pérez, and the musician biopic A Complete Unknown.
The music of the ceremony itself was nicely assembled, with a live orchestra (conducted by Michael Bearden) accompanying proceedings from above the stage.
But the show was marred by an absence: the best song nominations were not performed live. The new songs this year were so bland, however – especially when compared to the Wicked score and Bob Dylan – that I can hardly blame the producers. The nominations included a dull Elton John song, some soft guitar rock from Sing Sing, Diane Warren’s 16th (!) nominated song (more soft rock), and two forgettable songs from Emilia Pérez (one of which, El Mal, was the winner).
So little faith did the Academy have in the songs that only a few seconds were played from each, mostly covered by a montage of interviews with the songwriters.
This year’s nominated best scores were not much more memorable, but Daniel Blumberg deserved his win for The Brutalist. It demonstrates a high level of composition and orchestration craft. It uses edgy instrumental textures to increase the feelings of uncertainty and imbalance that the film imparts.
The show included a lot of Wizard of Oz. Ariana Grande sang Over the Rainbow from the 1939 film and Cynthia Erivo sang Home from The Wiz, the 1974 soul musical based on the book. Then they performed Defying Gravity from Wicked together.
Another subtle Wizard of Oz nod was the music played during the commercial breaks: a loop based on Brand New Day from The Wiz, whose 1979 film version had its music produced by the late Quincy Jones. Queen Latifah and backup dancers brought some much needed energy to the last hour of the ceremony with Ease on Down the Road, also from The Wiz, as part of a Jones tribute.
One surprise was an unnecessary but enjoyable James Bond sequence featuring Margaret Qualley dancing to John Barry’s famous theme, a performance of Live and Let Die by K-pop star Lisa, Doja Cat singing Diamonds Are Forever, and Raye’s rendition of Skyfall.
This plus the various numbers from the Oz Musical Universe only highlighted how lacklustre this year’s nominated music was.
– Gregory Camp
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.
Indonesia has developed several climate documents as pathways to curb climate change and adapt to its impacts. These impacts influence many elements of life, including displacement, the spread of infectious diseases, and even fatalities.
As a scholar in social development and environmental policy, I conducted a descriptive analysis of more than five Indonesia’s climate documents to learn how the concept of a just transition is being integrated into Indonesia’s climate policies. My analisis reveals that the current narrative in those documents is limited to the outcomes of climate-related approaches.
I found that these climate documents have failed to adequately address the social and environmental aspects that are fundamental to a ‘just transition’ — a global effort to combat climate change and shift towards a sustainable economy while improving the condition of people and the environment.
Indonesia’s climate action is important because the country is home to vast tropical forests and extensive peatlands, which act as important carbon sinks. Yet, it remains one of the world’s largest emitters.
Indonesia’s just transition is essential as it supports global efforts to mitigate climate change while ensuring that the shift is more sustainable and inclusive. Neglecting these factors in the transition can risk equity, justice, and inclusion for affected communities and ecosystems in Indonesia’s climate actions.
The risks it posed
So far, Indonesia’s just transition narrative concentrates mainly on the energy sector. For instance, the government’s white paper on just transition, released in September last year, centres solely on the energy aspect.
Additionally, the use of the word just in the Just Energy Transition Partnership (JETP) — an international partnership aiming at speeding Indonesia’s renewable energy development and coal phase-out — has helped popularise the notion.
A just transition should include broader efforts to limit and adapt to climate change, given these changes directly impact communities. Despite its increasing recognition in the energy sector, just transition remains a long way from being completely integrated into Indonesia’s climate initiatives.
In the forestry sector, Indonesia’s strategy to apply Sustainable Forest Management (SFM) practices, which includes selective logging practices to minimise damage, may lead to the prohibition of traditional slash-and-burn farming in some areas. This threatens local communities that have long practised controlled burning as a sustainable land management method.
Similarly, under FOLU Net Sink 2030 — Indonesia’s plan to reduce emissions from forestry and land-use — the government has introduced community forestry initiatives to improve livelihood. However, the strategy does not yet address the potential consequences for people who rely on forests for their livelihoods and cultural heritage, which could be jeopardised by by SFM practices.
Moreover, Indonesia’s climate resilience strategies for coastal communities overlook the socio-cultural importance of fishing as a key source of income. For example, the government plans to provide business development training to assist fishing families in diversifying their income in response to extreme weather conditions. However, without acknowledging the deep cultural and economic ties these communities have to fishing, such initiatives risk being ineffective.
The cost we bear
The lack of justice in Indonesia’s transition agenda has backfired, with negative consequences for both people and the environment.
For example, the energy shift demands Indonesia to exploit more of its abundant nickel resources for EV batteries, particularly in central and eastern Indonesia. To assist nickel mining and processing, the government has implemented several policies.
While the nickel boom has helped resource-rich provinces like North Maluku and Central Sulawesi boost their economic growth, it has also had serious impacts. Indonesia’s greenhouse gas emissions climbed by 20% between 2022 and 2023, owing to the dependency on coal for nickel processing facilities.
Beyond emissions, nickel mining has also led to deforestation and pollution, affecting local communities who rely on natural resources for their livelihoods and cultural preservation, while also harming biodiversity in mining areas.
The expense of the nickel rush demonstrates how an unjust energy transition can exacerbate challenges faced by vulnerable communities and further degrade the environment.
Next steps
To integrate just transition principles effectively, Indonesia must first redefine the term ‘just transition’ within its own context. Currently, the term has not been properly incorporated into any of Indonesia’s climate-related documents.
A clear and context-specific definition will allow Indonesia to pursue a transition that is both equitable and inclusive.
To accomplish this, the government must engage a wide range of stakeholders in defining and planning the transition to all climate-related initiatives. This encompasses, but is not limited to, all sectors. The goal is to secure broad participation — not only from the public and private sectors, but also from local communities, vulnerable groups including women and Indigenous peoples, as well as other key actors.
A more defined concept and well-structured plan will make it easier to implement, monitor, and evaluate the change. Simultaneously, this inclusive strategy should ensure a fair and equitable distribution of both benefits and burdens. All actors must be able to participate in decision-making and take action prior to and during the transition process.
Indonesia must also have a robust monitoring and evaluation mechanism in place to support its climate actions. The country can learn from Scotland, which has developed a just transition framework with clear outcomes and measurable indicators while ensuring participation and continuous learning from all stakeholders.
Drawing on insights from existing literature and reports will help Indonesia develop a framework that is well-suited to its unique context.
Wira A. Swadana tidak bekerja, menjadi konsultan, memiliki saham, atau menerima dana dari perusahaan atau organisasi mana pun yang akan mengambil untung dari artikel ini, dan telah mengungkapkan bahwa ia tidak memiliki afiliasi selain yang telah disebut di atas.
A trap or a misstep? Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskyy sit-down with Donald Trump and JD Vance heads south.AP Photo/ Mystyslav Chernov
“A president just disrespected America in the Oval Office. It wasn’t Zelenskyy.”
That was the verdict of the editorial team at the Kyiv Independent, one of Ukraine’s leading media outlets, on a remarkable spat in the Oval Office that played out on Feb. 28, 2025.
The online newspaper European Pravda characterized the “quarrel at the highest level” as a diplomatic failure, but added that it was “not yet a catastrophe.”
Some Ukrainians I have spoken to since the fractious encounter, during which Ukraine’s Volodymyr Zelenskyy was repeatedly hectored by U.S. President Donald Trump and Vice President JD Vance, have indeed characterized it as disastrous for the country. But for others, the incident has been calmly accepted as the new reality in U.S.-Ukraine relations.
There have been some questions directed at Zelenskyy – did he allow himself to be baited into an an argument that could have real consequences? Should he have remained silent? But for the most part, the treatment of Ukraine’s president by Trump and Vance has produced a presumably unintended consequence: It has unified a war-weary Ukrainian people.
As one friend who has been displaced by war from the now occupied city of Nova Kakhovka told me, there has not been this level of mobilization and patriotism in three years.
‘The country needs unity’
This unity is seen in the response across Ukraine’s political divide.
Petro Poroshenko, an often outspoken opponent of Zelenskyy and leader of the opposition party European Solidarity, said on March 1 that, to the surprise of many, he will not criticize Zelenskyy’s performance at the White House. “The country does not need criticism, the country needs unity,” he said in the video posted on X.
Anecdotally, even those Ukrainians who did not vote for Zelenskyy have told me that events in the Oval Office made them feel more supportive of Zelenskyy.
However, a sense of realism is sinking in over the shifting stance of the U.S. administration. Trump’s stated trust in Vladimir Putin and his conciliatory comments over Russian aggression – including a refusal to acknowledge Russian war crimes – have, for many Ukrainians, set low expectations that the White House can help achieve a quick and lasting peace. Yet, as Inna Sovsun of the opposition party Holos noted, “It was difficult to watch a president who’s been a victim of Russian aggression being attacked by the leader of the free world.”
Setting the record straight
The Feb. 28 meeting between the U.S. and Ukrainian leaders followed weeks of increasingly harsh Trump rhetoric toward Zelenskyy. Since being inaugurated on Jan. 20, Trump has called the Ukrainian leader a “dictator without elections,” claiming – incorrectly – that Zelenksyy had 4% approval ratings. He also indicted that the invasion by Russian troops in February 2022 was Ukraine’s fault.
Such comments had already made Ukrainians rally around Zelenskyy, who has a healthy 63% approval rating, according to the latest polls.
The ugly scenes in the Oval Office could see a further rallying around Zelenskyy, especially if he can successfully characterize his role in the dispute as that of defender of his people. Doing so would tap into growing popular resentment over the new U.S. administration’s apparent unwillingness to acknowledge Russian war crimes.
Large U.S. and Ukrainian flags hang on the Kyiv River Port building on March 2, 2025 in Kyiv, Ukraine. Photo by Pierre Crom/Getty Images
The angry exchanges in the Oval Office seemed to have been sparked by Zelenskyy’s objection to Trump’s assertion that Russian President Vladimir Putin is a man of his word.
That refusal to call out Putin – who faces an arrest warrant from the International Criminal Court – angers Ukrainians who have suffered Russian aggression for three years. To hammer that point home, Zekenskyy showed Trump and others in the Oval Office photos of Ukrainian prisoners of war who return from Russian captivity tortured and abused.
As Ukrainian human rights lawyer and Nobel Prize winner Oleksandra Matviichuk noted in a Feb. 17 speech, 65% of Ukrainians polled early in the conflict said their main disappointment in ending the war would be “impunity for Russian crimes.” Three years of conflict will have only hardened that sentiment – yet the U.S., under Trump’s leadership, looks increasingly willing to let Putin off the hook.
Defender of the nation – and truth
A large section of Ukrainian media – both traditionally pro- and anti-Zelenskyy alike – have since Feb. 28 portrayed the president in the role of a defender of both his nation and the truth.
He was, this framing has it, forced into the difficult position of having to set the record straight and challenge untrue statements in real time, and in front of the seemingly antagonistic leader of the world’s largest economy, whose support has been crucial in Ukraine’s attempt to repel the invading Russian army.
To some, keeping silent would have been tantamount to capitulation, but others have questioned Zelenskyy’s approach.
While still maintaining that Zelenskyy’s key message was correct, some Ukrainians have suggested that his emotional tone in the Oval Office was not constructive.
Opposition lawmaker Oleskiy Goncharenko suggested in an interview on CNN that Zelenskyy should have been more “diplomatic” and more “calm” given that the stakes were so high.
Meanwhile, there were also those who questioned the decision to hold such an important conversation in front of the press, especially without the use of professional translators who potentially could have tamped down the rhetoric and slowed the pace of the exchange. Thus, as Tymofiy Mylovanov, the adviser to the office of the president and head of the Kyiv School of Economics put it, some things could “have been lost in translation.”
‘Zelensky is our democratic leader’
So where does the Oval Office dispute leave both Zelenskyy and U.S.-Ukrainian relations?
In the aftermath of the dispute, Republican Sen. Lindsey Graham – who has been a staunch supporter of Ukraine – suggested that Zelenskyy should resign, the implications being that his relationship with Trump was so broken that his presence is now counterproductive for Ukraine’s priorities.
Moreover, to many Ukrainians the barrier to harmonious Ukraine-U.S. relations is not Zelenskyy, but Trump.
Mustafa Nayyem, who served in Zelesnkyy’s government, summed up the view of many Ukrainians by claiming in a social media post that the Trump administration “does not just dislike Ukraine. They despise us.” The “contempt is deeper than indifference, and more dangerous than outright hostility,” he added in the Feb. 28 post.
Intentional provocation
Serhii Sternenko, a Ukrainian activist lawyer and blogger, described the Oval Office spat as an intentional provocation on behalf of Trump to discredit Ukraine as an unreliable partner in the peace negotiations.
Sternenko is not alone in his assessment. Journalist and blogger Vitaly Portnikov argued that the spat was the result of Trump’s unrealistic promise of ending the war quickly being confronted with the reality that perhaps Russia does not want to make any concessions. The thinking here is Putin has shown no indication that he will bend on his war goals, so for Trump, framing Zelenskyy as “not ready for peace” allows the U.S. president to walk away from his campaign promise without accepting defeat.
Among friends: Zelenskyy with Britain’s Prime Minister Keir Starmer and France’s President Emmanuel Macron on March 2, 2025. Justin Tallis – WPA Pool/Getty Images
A new reality
Beyond the headlines and initial reactions from Ukrainian politicians, journalists and civilians, there is also another sentiment that is emerging: resignation to the new reality.
Most Ukrainians want an end to war, but in a way that preserves their sovereignty and guarantees future security. Until recently, that was shared by the occupants of the White House. It is becoming increasingly clear to many Ukrainians that, in regards the war in Ukraine, the U.S. will play a different role under Trump – meaning Ukraine will increasingly look to European leaders as primary partners.
Perhaps Goncharenko, the opposition member of Ukraine’s Parliament, best summed up the consequences of the Oval Office spat: “It was not Ukraine, it was not the United States who won … it was Putin.”
Lena Surzhko Harned does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.
The Oval Office encounter was expected to be an on-camera meeting between the president and the Ukrainian head of state before the signing of a crucial minerals deal between the two countries that was meant to be a key step toward ending war in Ukraine.
But as reporters described it, the initially routine meeting devolved into a “fiery exchange” in which Trump and Vice President JD Vance “berated” and “harangued” Zelenskyy after he pushed back on Vance’s assertion that Trump’s diplomatic skills would ensure that Russian president Vladimir Putin would honor a cease fire agreement.
Trump’s compulsion to dominate both alliesand enemies seems to have caused him to jettison the negotiation the moment that Zelenskyy declined to perform subservient fealty. The meeting, which was ended by Trump with no agreement signed, illustrated why authoritarians are lousy dealmakers, particularly when autocratic instincts are exacerbated by what’s known as toxic masculinity.
Toxic masculinity is a version of masculinity that discourages empathy, expresses strength through dominance, normalizes violence against women and associates leadership with white patriarchy. It devalues behaviors considered to be “feminine” and suggests that the way to earn others’ respect is to accrue power and status.
Trump’s reaction to Zelenskyy in the Oval Office illustrates how these inclinations stymie the president’s purported dealmaking abilities, undermine democratic values and make the world a more dangerous place.
Excerpts from the Feb. 28 Oval Office meeting, featuring U.S. President Donald Trump, Vice President JD Vance and Ukraine President Volodymyr Zelenskyy.
Diplomat, dealmaker or mafia don?
Trump staged the public Oval Office meeting with Zelenskyy to showcase his ostensible prowess as – in his words – an “arbitrator” and “mediator.” Trump insisted during the first 40 minutes that “my whole life is deals” and asserted that he has what it takes to make Putin conform to a peace agreement with an embattled Ukraine.
Apparently eager to project a persona as a successful diplomat and powerful dealmaker, Trump rejected a reporter’s suggestion that “you align yourself too much with Putin” and not with democratic values.
Trump contended that in order to successfully negotiate, he couldn’t alienate either Putin or Zelenskyy. “If I didn’t align myself with both of them,” he said, “you’d never have a deal.” Instead, he claimed, “I’m aligned with the United States of America and for the good of the world. I’m aligned with the world.”
Vance initially echoed Trump’s message, casting Trump as a consummate diplomat and arguing, “What makes America a good country is America engaging in diplomacy.”
But Vance’s tone shifted the moment Zelenskyy challenged Trump’s framing.
Zelenskyy provided historical examples of U.S. diplomatic failures and observed that Trump and other presidents had been unable to contain Putin. Vance responded by castigating Zelenskyy for not “thanking the president” and repeatedly instructed him to “say thank you” as the exchange grew more volatile.
Trump, seemingly angered after Vance pointed out Zelenskyy’s lack of deference, dropped his diplomatic tone and informed Zelenskyy, “You’ve got to be more thankful because let me tell you, you don’t have the cards. With us, you have the cards, but without us, you don’t have any cards.”
After the meeting, both the New York Times columnist Thomas Friedman and Slate’s Kaplan compared Trump to a mafia don. The Daily Beast writer David Rothkopf suggested he was more like “the Luca Brasi for mob boss Vladimir Putin,” invoking Don Corleone’s henchman in the movie “The Godfather.”
After Trump suspended negotiations, canceled lunch and expelled the Ukrainian delegation from the White House, Reuters reported that “most Republicans rallied behind Trump and Vance.”
President Donald Trump, center, and Vice President JD Vance meet with Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky at the White House on Feb. 28, 2025. Andrew Harnik/Getty Images
Many of his supporters voted for Trump in 2016 because they wanted a “dealmaker in chief,” as one poll characterized it, who could get things done in a fractured Congress.
In his second term, despite having a Republican congressional majority, Trump has established himself as the nation’s sole authority, embracing toxic masculinity’s theory of power and respect. Doing an end run around Congress and flouting the law, Trump initiated scores of policy changes via executive order and asserted that neither lawmakers nor judges have the authority to challenge or constrain him.
Trump’s blow-up at Zelenskyy is much more than a foreign policy snafu. It’s a preview of what will happen when toxic masculinity drives U.S. foreign policy.
Toxic masculinity on the world stage
A screenshot of various U.K. newspapers’ headlines about the Oval Office meeting. CBS Evening News
Trump initially acknowledged that Russian abuses were “tough stuff,” but concern for Ukrainians seems to have vanished after Zelenskyy politely challenged Trump.
Decrying Zelenskyy’s insufficient gratitude and escalating the conflict, Trump asserted, “You’re gambling with World War III. And what you’re doing is very disrespectful to the country, this country, that’s backed you far more than a lot of people said they should have.”
Vance similarly shifted focus from the needs of Ukrainian civilians to paying homage to Trump, demanding that Zelenskyy “offer some words of appreciation for the United States of America and the president who is trying to save your country.”
A common tactic employed by abusers is to demand that the person they are bullying show them gratitude.
In their berating, bullying and humiliation of Zelenskyy, the president and vice president of the United States used the language and rhetoric of abusers in an apparent attempt to try to force the proud and dignified leader of a country at war to grovel and get in line.
Their lack of discipline and decorum also upended the negotiation, jeopardizing a deal aimed at halting the fighting in Ukraine and advancing U.S. interests.
In my view, the toxic masculinity on display in the Oval Office on Feb. 28, 2025, was a bald demonstration of something new and alarming to a public accustomed to decorum and diplomacy in that formal setting.
For many, the enduring image of that meeting is an anxious Zelenskyy being hectored by a furious Trump.
But there’s another image that captures equally well the dynamic unfolding in the room. Ukrainian Ambassador Oksana Markarova sat in a chair just in front of the assembled members of the press. Papers held steady in her lap with one hand, the normally unflappable member of the diplomatic corps buried her head in her other hand, unable to even look at what was happening.
Karrin Vasby Anderson does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.
On Valentine’s Day 2025, heavy rains started to fall in parts of rural Appalachia. Over the course of a few days, residents in eastern Kentucky watched as river levels rose and surpassed flood levels. Emergency teams conducted over 1,000 water rescues. Hundreds, if not thousands of people were displaced from homes, and entire business districts filled with mud.
For some, it was the third time in just four years that their homes had flooded, and the process of disposing of destroyed furniture, cleaning out the muck and starting anew is beginning again.
Historic floods wiped out businesses and homes in eastern Kentucky in February 2021, July 2022 and now February 2025. An even greater scale of destruction hit eastern Tennessee and western North Carolina in September 2024, when Hurricane Helene’s rainfall and flooding decimated towns and washed out parts of major highways.
Scenes of flooding from several locations across Appalachia in February 2025.
Each of these events was considered to be a “thousand-year flood,” with a 1-in-1,000 chance of happening in a given year. Yet they’re happening more often.
The floods have highlighted the resilience of local people to work together for collective survival in rural Appalachia. But they have also exposed the deep vulnerability of communities, many of which are located along creeks at the base of hills and mountains with poor emergency warning systems. As short-term cleanup leads to long-term recovery efforts, residents can face daunting barriers that leave many facing the same flood risks over and over again.
Exposing a housing crisis
For the past nine years, I have been conducting research on rural health and poverty in Appalachia. It’s a complex region often painted in broad brushstrokes that miss the geographic, socioeconomic and ideological diversity it holds.
There is considerable local inequality that is often overlooked in a region portrayed as one-dimensional. Poverty levels are indeed high. In Perry County, Kentucky, where one of eastern Kentucky’s larger cities, Hazard, is located, nearly 30% of the population lives under the federal poverty line. But the average income of the top 1% of workers in Perry County is nearly US$470,000 – 17 times more than the average income of the remaining 99%.
This income and wealth inequality translates to unequal land ownership – much of eastern Kentucky’s most desirable land remains in the hands of corporations and families with great generational wealth.
When I first moved to eastern Kentucky in 2016, I was struck by the grave lack of affordable, quality housing. I met families paying $200-$300 a month for a small plot to put a mobile home. Others lived in “found housing” – often-distressed properties owned by family members. They had no lease, no equity and no insurance. They had a place to lay one’s head but lacked long-term stability in the event of disagreement or disaster. This reality was rarely acknowledged by local and state governments.
Eastern Kentucky’s 2021 and 2022 floods turned this into a full-blown housing crisis, with 9,000 homes damaged or destroyed in the 2022 flood alone.
“There was no empty housing or empty places for housing,” one resident involved in local flood recovery efforts told me. “It just was complete disaster because people just didn’t have a place to go.”
Most homeowners did not have flood insurance to assist with rebuilding costs. While many applied to the Federal Emergency Management Agency for assistance, the amounts they received often did not go far. The maximum aid for temporary housing assistance and repairs is $42,500, plus up to an additional $42,500 for other needs related to the disaster.
The federal government often provides more aid for rebuilding through block grants directed to local and state governments, but that money requires congressional approval and can take months to years to arrive. Local community coalitions and organizations stepped in to fill these gaps, but they did not necessarily have sufficient donations or resources to help such large numbers of displaced people.
Affordable rental housing is hard to find in much of Appalachia. When flooding wipes out homes, as Jackson, Ky., saw in July 2022 and again in February 2025, it becomes even more rare. Michael Swensen/Getty Images
With a dearth of affordable rentals pre-flood, renters who lost their homes had no place to go. And those living in “found housing” that was destroyed were not eligible for federal support for rebuilding.
The sheer level of devastation also posed challenges. One health care professional told me: “In Appalachia, the way it usually works is if you lose your house or something happens, then you go stay with your brother or your mom or your cousin. … But everybody’s mom and brother and cousin also lost their house. There was nowhere to stay.” From her point of view, “our homelessness just skyrocketed.”
The cost of land – social and economic
After the 2022 flood, the Kentucky Department for Local Government earmarked almost $300 million of federal funding to build new, flood-resilient homes in eastern Kentucky. Yet the question of where to build remained. As another resident involved in local flood recovery efforts told me, “You can give us all the money you want; we don’t have any place to build the house.”
It has always been costly and time-intensive to develop land in Appalachia. Available higher ground tends to be located on former strip mines, and these reclaimed lands require careful geotechnical surveying and sometimes structural reinforcements.
If these areas are remote, the costs of running electric, water and other infrastructure services can also be prohibitive. For this reason, for-profit developers have largely avoided many counties in the region. The head of a nonprofit agency explained to me that, because of this, “The markets have broken. … We have no [housing] market.”
Eastern Kentucky’s mountains are beautiful, but there are few locations for building homes that aren’t near creeks or rivers. Strip-mined land, where mountaintops were flattened, often aren’t easily accessible and come with their own challenges. Posnov/Moment via Getty Images
There is also some risk involved in attempting to build homes on new land that has not previously been developed. A local government could pay for undeveloped land to be surveyed and prepared for development, with the prospect of reimbursement by the U.S. Department of Housing and Urban Development if housing is successfully built. But if, after the work to prepare the land, it is still too cost-prohibitive to build a profitable house there, the local government would not receive any reimbursement.
Some counties have found success clearing land for large developments on former strip mine sites. But these former coal mining areas can be considerable distances from towns. Without robust public transportation systems, these distances are especially prohibitive for residents who lack reliable personal transportation.
Another barrier is the high prices that both individual and corporate landowners are asking for properties on higher ground.
The scarcity of desirable land available for sale, combined with increasingly urgent demand, has led to prices unaffordable for most. Another resident involved in local flood recovery efforts explained: “If you paid $5,000 for 30 acres 40 years ago, why won’t you sell that for $100,000? Nope, [they want] $1 million.” That makes it increasingly difficult for both individuals and housing developers to purchase land and build.
One reason for this scarcity is the amount of land that is still owned by outside corporate interests. For example, Kentucky River Properties, formerly Kentucky River Coal Corporation, owns over 270,000 acres across seven counties in the region. While this landholding company leases land to coal, timber and gas companies, it and others like it rarely permit residential development.
But not all unused land is owned by corporations. Some of this land is owned by families with deep roots in the region. People’s attachment to a place often makes them want to stay in their communities, even after disasters. But it can also limit the amount of land available for rebuilding. People are often hesitant to sell land that holds deep significance for their families, even if they are not living there themselves.
Rural communities are often tight-knit. Many residents want to stay despite the risks. AP Photo/Timothy D. Easley
One health care professional expressed feeling torn between selling or keeping their own family property after the 2022 flood: “We have a significant amount of property on top of a mountain. I wouldn’t want to sell it because my papa came from nothing. … His generation thought owning land was the greatest thing. … And for him to provide his children and his grandchildren and their great-grandchildren a plot of land that he worked and sweat and ultimately died to give us – people want to hold onto that.”
She recognized that land was in great demand but couldn’t bring herself to sell what she owned. In cases like hers, higher grounds are owned locally but still remain unused.
Moving toward higher ground, slowly
Two years after the 2022 flood, major government funding for rebuilding still has not resulted in a significant number of homes. The state has planned seven communities on higher ground in eastern Kentucky that aim to house 665 new homes. As of early 2025, 14 houses had been completed.
Progress on providing housing on higher ground is slow, and the need is great.
In the meantime, when I conducted interviews during the summer and fall of 2024, many of the mobile home communities that were decimated in the 2022 flood had begun to fill back up. These were flood-risk areas, but there was simply no other place to go.
Last week, I watched on Facebook a friend’s live video footage showing the waters creeping up the sides of the mobile homes in one of those very communities that had flooded in 2022. Another of my friends mused: “I don’t know who constructed all this, but they did an unjustly favor by not thinking how close these towns was to the river. Can’t anyone in Frankfort help us, or has it gone too far?”
With hundreds more people now displaced by the most recent flood, the need for homes on higher grounds has only expanded, and the wait continues.
Kristina Brant has received funding from the National Science Foundation and United States Department of Agriculture to support her past and ongoing research in rural Appalachia.
Many articles have indicated that, in addition to millions of birds dying from avian flu, infected flocks have widely been killed en masse in an attempt to contain its spread. The livestock industry euphemistically calls this killing of infected animals “depopulation,” and around 150 million birds have been depopulated since the current crisis began.
The unusually heavy media coverage of expensive eggs, depopulated chickens and avian flu has highlighted some of the deep problems and risks of modern poultry production. Unfortunately, however, important context and dynamics have been regularly omitted.
Unpacking key omissions helps to better understand both the nature of these chronic risks of infectious disease and the perilous response of the Trump administration.
In the U.S., avian flu recently spilled over into cattle — causing widespread illness after a mutation enabled intra-species transmission.
Avian flu has also caused a small number of severe human illnesses in the U.S. (primarily workers in poultry operations). Although no human-to-human transmission is evident — a necessary condition for a pandemic — this potential remains a grave threat.
Key issues underplayed
Although the media coverage of egg prices, depopulated chickens and avian flu has cast a valuable spotlight on many aspects of modern poultry production, it has also tended to leave out some important elements.
Modern chickens have been selectively bred to either put on weight (broilers) or produce eggs (layers) very quickly. Broilers reach slaughter weight in a mere six weeks. Layer hens produce nearly an egg a day for about a year or two, before being slaughtered. These short life-cycles are rarely mentioned in coverage of depopulations.
According to the U.S. Census of Agriculture, over 97 per cent of layers live in operations with at least 10,000 birds. Over 99 per cent of broilers are grown in operations with annual sales of at least 100,000 birds.
This scale also relates to a question that has, with a few notable exceptions, received scant coverage: since infected populations cannot simply be shipped to the slaughterhouse, how are the birds actually killed?
A leading approach to depopulation is ventilation shutdown. This involves turning off the powerful fans needed to make the ambient conditions in large enclosures bearable, and results in agonizing deaths.
Researchers are investigating ways to augment ventilation shutdown as part of a broader research agenda seeking to develop systematic ways to depopulate large operations. This agenda clearly illustrates that the livestock industry is acutely aware of the great risks of infectious disease evolution within these spaces.
In response to scrutiny, the Trump administration initially tried to blame Biden for the depopulation of chickens. While such deflection might work for a time, Trump and his advisors realize they need a strategy to increase egg supplies.
In this context, it’s unsurprising that Trump is laying out a simple plan to increase the egg supply: rebuilding layer populations, reducing depopulations and trusting the livestock and pharmaceutical industries to find ways of containing avian flu — likely through vaccines and strengthened biosecurity.
It’s profoundly irrational to be weakening infectious disease surveillance in the midst of the current avian flu crisis (and amid mounting infectious disease risks more generally).
It’s also hard to fathom how further empowering the leading actors in poultry production can be expected to resolve the risks of avian flu that are so bound up in the nature of modern production.
Tony Weis 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 Ruolz Ariste, Adjunct Professor, School of Public Policy and Administration, Carleton University
As Canada’s federal parties gear up for the upcoming federal election, one of the key issues on the campaign trail will be how Canada will meet its climate policy targets.
Several strategies exist to meet these targets, including: a border charge on imports, a border rebate for exports, a domestic output-based subsidy or a consumer-based carbon rebate like the Canada Carbon Rebate (CCR).
The CCR, introduced by Prime Minister Justin Trudeau’s administration to curb carbon emissions, is designed to offset the costs of carbon pricing by providing rebates to households.
The debate surrounding the CCR is crucial, as carbon pricing is the most effective measure to reduce greenhouse gas emissions when paired with accompanying measures. Yet, despite its effectiveness, Canada’s major political parties are willing to scrap it because it’s not politically rewarding.
CCR is widely misunderstood
The CCR is widely misunderstood in Canada, leading to misleading narratives about its economic and environmental impacts.
A recent report from the Parliamentary Budget Office (PBO) argues that industries facing pollution charges could become less competitive because of the CCR, potentially increasing Canada’s federal budget deficit by $4 billion by 2030, and making Canadians worse off.
However, these reports fail to fully assess the impacts of carbon pricing and risk distorting the debate and influencing policy in ways that could weaken Canada’s climate strategy.
Yet an overlooked crucial fact in the debate on the CCR is that 80 per cent of Canadian families received more in rebates than they paid in pollution pricing in 2024 because major polluters bear the highest costs under the system.
The missing perspective in assessments
While the PBO’s report may be valid from a business standpoint, the report didn’t run a full cost-benefit analysis, which would have weighed both the economic costs and the social benefits of reducing greenhouse gas emissions.
In climate policy, the social perspective is much more important than the business one. Without this context, reports like the PBO’s risk being misinterpreted, particularly by politicians opposed to climate action. This could have significant negative consequences for environmental policy in Canada.
A major issue in economic assessments is that the benefits of greenhouse gas reduction are typically excluded because they extend beyond national borders. As a result, emissions reduction can appear to be a poor investment, when in reality, its global and long-term benefits far outweigh the initial expenses.
The Treasury Board of Canada Secretariat’s cost-benefit guide acknowledges this issue. Under normal circumstances, global benefits should be excluded in cost-benefit analysis. However, given the nature of climate change, the guide states that the costs and benefits of greenhouse gas reductions — calculated using the social cost of greenhouse gas — are appropriate to include in cost-benefit analysis.
A recent UN report supports this approach, estimating that while global carbon policy measures could cost more than US$1 trillion annually, the economic benefits will be far greater. Shifting to a green economy could yield US$26 trillion by 2030, compared to maintaining business as usual.
Carbon leakage challenge
A major challenge for Canada’s carbon pricing strategy is that many of its key trading partners don’t impose similar emissions pricing on consumers.
Instead of reducing emissions, this carbon leakage simply shifts emissions elsewhere, undermining global efforts to address climate change. To counter this, there has been a growing interest in policies designed to prevent this from happening, such as border carbon adjustments.
This issue is critical to Canada’s ability to meet its climate policy targets. Without effective measures to prevent carbon leakage, the country could face higher costs and less impact on global emissions reduction efforts.
Ideally, Canada would not have to choose between strong climate policy and economic competitiveness. However, without a co-ordinated global approach to carbon policy, Canada faces difficult trade-offs.
At the heart of this debate is the “polluter-pays principle,” which holds that those who pollute must bear the costs of their actions. This principle is central to climate justice.
Carbon pricing is the only abatement instrument that can implement the polluter-pays principle, but additional policies — such as border charges on imports, border rebates for exports or domestic output-based subsidies — are required to make it more efficient and politically viable.
Currently, 75 carbon taxes and emissions trading systems are in operation worldwide, covering approximately 24 per cent of global emissions.
Canada is considering its own CBAM, but challenges remain. Implementing such a policy could lead to heightened trade tensions with the U.S. or even provoke retaliatory actions.
Need for international co-operation
To make carbon pricing and border adjustments work, international organizations must help close the knowledge and information gaps. One way to do this is by providing more accurate data on embedded carbon prices to improve the calculation of carbon prices down the road.
Further research is also needed to understand how domestic climate policies impact other nations and how to ensure CBAM’s interoperability with other climate measures. Such work will contribute to the optimization of climate policies for the benefit of all.
In the meantime, Canada’s climate policy must strive to integrate CBAM in a way that aligns with global trade systems like the WTO. Some trade law experts have expressed concerns that CBAM may not be compatible with the WTO General Agreement on Tariffs and Trade, and this must be addressed.
If Canada were to keep the CCR, this integration would be especially important as Canada navigates future trade relations with the U.S. under Trump’s unpredictable administration. Canada doesn’t want to fall behind in its climate action efforts.
Canadians would like the country to lead on climate action while staying competitive. A public consultation on this matter would be a good move from any elected political leader.
Ruolz Ariste is currently affiliated with Carleton University and Université du Québec en Outaouais.
Since 2015, youth mental health has noticeably declined. Currently, 1.25 million young people in Canada require mental health support. (Shutterstock)
Canada urgently needs to take action to support the well-being of young people and secure a healthier and more prosperous future for generations to come.
The recently published Lancet Psychiatry Commission on Youth Mental Health shows that this problem is global, and in part driven by megatrends — major and long-lasting societal changes such as climate change, insecure employment and growing intergenerational inequality. These issues are situated within decades of colonial and neoliberal political, social and economic policies.
To support youth mental health, Canada must work towards reversing these megatrends while also investing in youth mental health services.
The youth mental health problem is global, and in part driven by ‘megatrends’ — major and long-lasting societal changes such as climate change, insecure employment and growing intergenerational inequality. (Shutterstock)
We were inspired by The Lancet Psychiatry Commission on Youth Mental Health, which calls for global action to address this urgent mental health crisis affecting young people. This global initiative involved researchers from diverse fields, service providers and young people, and was co-led by Srividya Iyer (a co-author on this piece and Canada Research Chair in Youth, Mental Health, and Learning Health Systems). It advances a framework for improving youth mental health care, integrating all sectors providing services relevant to mental health (for example, community centres, stand-alone clinics, hospitals) and all types of interventions, ranging from prevention to specialized services for youth with long-term mental health problems.
The situation in Canada
Canada is a global leader in creating new mental health services for youth, which began with the creation of a network of programs for youth with psychosis. Lessons learned have inspired transformation in broader youth mental health services, called “Integrated Youth Services” (IYS).
Designed with input from youth and their families, IYS do not require transition from pediatric to adult care at age 18, which prevents youth from slipping through the cracks between the two systems. IYS integrate mental health, medical health and other social services; and create primary mental health care services.
These services and investments represent Canada’s critical commitment to youth mental health. However, there have been relatively fewer efforts to address other elements responding to factors contributing to worse youth mental health, such as the ongoing harms of colonization and the climatecrisis.
To truly address the youth mental health crisis, we must move beyond just creating services and into creating a world that supports young people to thrive. In these areas, young people themselves have shown us the way through initiatives like the Indigenous Climate Action Youth Leadership, the Anti-Racist Youth Lab and EveryChildNow, which takes action on youth poverty.
What can we do
Society must embrace a strong cultural shift that prioritizes a duty to young people. (Shutterstock)
To support young people, the Lancet report highlights that society must embrace a strong cultural shift that prioritizes a duty to young people, future generations and intergenerational equity, ensuring that present-day policies consider their long-term impacts. The influence of megatrends suggests that activism on any of these societal issues can benefit youth mental health.
For those who want to take action directly, advocating for increasing mental health and social service funding, supporting local organizations dedicated to young people, involving youth in decision-making processes, and fostering nurturing social communities are all important steps.
In light of the upcoming federal election, Canadians should demand that all political parties have a clear plan for youth mental health. Policymaking should prioritize youth, family and community needs. Policies should be evidence-based, especially since intuitively helpful but untested ideas may have unintended consequences (for example, negative effects of universal prevention efforts) or can be complicated (such as the relationship between social media use and youth mental health).
Continuous funding for mental health research can generate knowledge that can inform practice and policy, anticipate and respond to future priorities, test innovative interventions (like nature-based, social prescribing and intergenerational connection) and improve existing systems and interventions.
Young people are tomorrow’s leaders, innovators and contributors. Ignoring their mental health problems undermines their potential and jeopardizes Canada’s ability to build a prosperous, inclusive society. Prioritizing youth mental health is not just a strategic investment for the country’s resilience — it is an ethical imperative.
Tovah Cowan receives funding from CIHR for a Planning and Dissemination grant supporting a project related to improving learning health systems for youth mental health services. Her current salary is paid through a CIHR grant previously awarded to Dr. Iyer.
Camila Velez receives funding from the Canadian Institutes of Health Research (CIHR) through a Doctoral Scholarship and a Planning and Dissemination grant for an International Symposium on arts-based research in youth mental health. Her current research assistant salary is paid through a CIHR grant previously awarded to Dr. Iyer.
Nora Morrison’s current salary is paid through a CIHR grant previously awarded to Dr. Srividya Iyer.
Rubén Valle receives his salary from a CIHR grant previously awarded to Dr. Iyer.
Srividya N. Iyer is supported by the Canada Research Chairs Program (Tier 1) and has received peer-reviewed grants from the Canadian Institutes of Health Research, Fonds de Recherche du Québec – Santé and the International Development Research Centre.
Source: The Conversation – Canada – By Mahtot Gebresselassie, Assistant Professor, Environmental and Urban Change, York University, Canada
In late 2024, the Ontario legislature passed Bill 212 giving the provincial government significant control over municipal bike lanes. The law requires municipalities to ask the province for its approval to install bike lanes if they would remove a lane for other vehicular traffic. The legislation also allows for the removal of three major bike lanes in Toronto.
Supporters of such moves argue that bike lanes worsen traffic congestion, negatively impact local businesses and delay emergency vehicles from getting where they need to go. However, research shows that bike lanes improve transportation infrastructure, including preventing injuries.
One of the main values of bike lanes is that they promote safety for all road users. Many cities around the world install bike lanes to wholly or partially separate cyclists from larger vehicles. This separation limits the interaction with cars and makes cycling safer.
A 2016 paper that looked at data on bike networks and injuries in 10 Canadian and U.S. cities between 2000 and 2015 showed that an increase in bike networks led to a decrease in fatal and serious injuries.
The safety associated with bike lanes can also encourage more people to take up cycling. A 2020 poll from the Canadian Automobile Association indicates that 40 per cent of Canadians reported they would feel encouraged to cycle on bike lanes physically separated from other vehicles.
More inclusive roads
Bike lanes can make cycling more inclusive for women, children, older adults, people with disabilities and those with limited transportation options.
Fewer women bike compared to men. A 2014 study that surveyed cyclists in five U.S. cities found that more women than men strongly agreed that protected bike lanes made them feel safe and new ones increased how often they cycled.
Older adults and people with disabilities also benefit from bike lanes, as they provide a more suitable cycling environment for riding with limited physical acuity and slower speeds.
Some argue that bike lanes reduce street parking, which can lead to lower economic activity. However, a 2012 study showed that people who cycle, walk and use transit frequent local businesses more and spend the same or more than those who use private cars.
When it comes to congestion, a 2018 study on the impact of installing bike lanes on arterial roads in Toronto found that the most affected street segments would only result in an estimated one-minute delay.
A 2022 study from Melbourne showed a minor effect on traffic when bike lanes were added to residential streets with low speed limits. It also found the “selective inclusion” of safe cycling lanes, in the worst cases, leads to a delay of less than 10 seconds per kilometre for drivers.
In New York, a 2016 study found that adding bike lanes reduced the average time for car travel on major thoroughfares from an average of 4.5 minutes to 3 minutes.
Examples from elsewhere indicate that removing bike lanes would not bode well for Toronto. A well-used bike lane in London, England was removed in December 2020 following residents’ complaints that they caused traffic congestion. A study found that the removal resulted in longer travel time on the street compounded by cars illegally parking in the space previously reserved for the bike lane.
Toronto Fire Services (TFS) response time increased by 30 seconds within the same corridor compared to a two-second increase for the entire city. However, these evaluations were for two months in 2023. In October 2024, TFS Chief Jim Jessop said the Bloor Street West bike lanes did not lead to an increase in response time.
If these bike lanes are removed and replaced with others elsewhere, it could create a poorly connected bike network. The safety and convenience associated with connected bike networks will be lost as a result.
Based on what research tells us, Toronto’s bike lanes should stay. Bike lanes provide various benefits, including making our streets more inclusive of more people.
Bike lanes offer safety on the roads by reducing the risk of fatal or non-life-threatening injuries on roads, and are a tremendous gain for transportation infrastructure.
Even in cases where a bike lane causes a few seconds of delay, politicians and city planners must consider the trade-off — especially if it means saving a person’s life.
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.
Wildfire season in Canada has historically spanned from late April to August — with the most damaging of these fires typically burning in June and July. But in recent years, we’ve seen a significant change in when wildfires burning; they are no longer a seasonal phenomenon.
For example, in 2024, Alberta’s wildfire season started in February due to the province’s warm and dry conditions. Québec recorded its forth earliest wildfire since 1973 in mid-march of the same year. British Columbia then reported their first wildfires of the season shortly after.
In 2023, Canada had one of its most catastrophic wildfire years — with over 18.4 hectares of forest burned. These wildfires caused approximately 232,000 people to be evacuated from their homes in British Columbia, Alberta, Saskatchewan and Québec.
The huge number of wildfires that burned in 2023 released more than three times the total CO2 emissions of Canada’s entire transportation sector produces in a year. This catastrophic wildfire season also started burning far earlier than normal.
Changing wildfire patterns represent a growing danger to Canadians and our nation’s communities, ecosystems and air quality.
Recipe for a wildfire
The recipe for wildfire is simple and needs only three ingredients: fuel (combustible vegetation), ignition (either from human or natural causes — such as lightning) and favourable weather conditions (hot, dry and windy weather).
But drought can act as a key accelerating factor. As a professor who specializes in sustainable land and water management, I have spent over 15 years researching the impacts of climate change on natural disasters. My most recent research has highlighted the role that droughts play in wildfire vulnerability in Canada.
Droughts not only dry vegetation — which gives wildfires more fuel — they also prolong hot, dry and windy weather. This further creates a high-risk environment for wildfires to ignite and spread.
Canada may appear to be a water-rich country, with vast networks of lakes, rivers and considerable amounts of annual precipitation. But these rich resources suffer from significant seasonal and regional variations.
During 2023, there was a strong link between soil moisture levels measured between May and October and wildfire activity. Areas with the lowest soil moisture levels experienced heightened wildfire activity. This underscores the critical role of drought conditions in amplifying wildfire risks.
The total economic damage and losses are estimated to be more than $250 billion. This catastrophic crisis has clearly highlighted the growing impacts of climate change on densely populated areas at the interface of wildland and urban zones.
But another important factor that significantly contributed to the damage caused by these wildfires in California was the wildland-urban interface (WUI). These are areas where natural, undeveloped vegetation meets human development. This creates a high-risk zone where flammable plants and structures combine — increasing the chance of wildfires spreading from wildlands to communities.
In Canada, the WUI is rapidly expanding as large cities contend with population growth. But this is putting even more Canadians at risk from potentially detrimental wildfires. The recent, severe wildfires in California’s WUI areas offer a clear warning for Canada, highlighting an urgent need to address the risks associated with these rapidly growing zones.
Safeguarding strategies
One way of safeguarding Canada’s expanding WUI zones is by using the leaf area index (LAI). This is a measure of vegetation density.
The more dense the vegetation in a particular region (which means it has a higher LAI value), the greater that area’s risk of wildfire. This is because densely wooded areas contain significant fuel sources for wildfires, making them capable of sustaining and intensifying fire spread.
British Columbia’s coastline, Eastern Canada, Southern Ontario and parts of Nova Scotia and New Brunswick (including Halifax and Saint John) are all densely vegetated, highly populated areas that are highly susceptible to wildfire threats — especially during periods of drought and high temperatures.
By pinpointing Canada’s most vulnerable regions, targeted wildfire prevention strategies can be carried out to mitigate risks and enhance community resilience in the face of escalating wildfire threats. This might include reducing the amount of dry vegetation, carrying out controlled burns and building fire-resistant infrastructure.
Canada announced a new goal to build nearly 3.9 million houses by 2031. For these houses to be built, parts of WUI zones will need to be used. It will be important for planning and development policies to ensure resilience against wildfires.
Canada stands at a pivotal moment in wildfire risk management because of expanding WUI zones, prolonged drought conditions and intensifying fire weather converge. Without a multi-pronged strategy, wildfires will only continue to be a growing threat to ecosystems, infrastructure and public safety.
Hossein Bonakdari 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.
Ontario Premier Doug Ford’s election gamble has paid off. As a consequence of last night’s election results, the Progressive Conservatives are now set to form their third consecutive majority government.
By and large, last night’s election results were dull and uninspiring, looking very similar to the outcome of the province’s election in 2022. The Progressive Conservatives return (going from 79 to 80) with only one additional member of caucus, receiving a noticeable but modest two per cent bump in support.
And, while the Liberals saw even more of a recovery from 2018, the generally widespread distribution of that vote means that they were only able to gain five seats. Although tarnished, the New Democrats return as the official opposition party.
Unprepared rivals
These lacklustre results flow directly from lacklustre campaigns. The fact is that, regardless of Premier Ford’s legitimate calls for a renewed mandate amidst an aggressive American administration, the party had been looking for an excuse to call a premature election for quite some time. In doing so, they were able to — quite intentionally — catch their rivals unprepared, complete with incomplete candidate slates, unknown leaders and undercooked policy platforms.
It meant that, while Ford was able to run a safe and constrained front-runner’s campaign, his main opponents struggled to find the momentum necessary to move the dial and exploit enough backlash. This is alongside real policy vulnerabilities in health care and education, with enough voters expressing discontent with what they felt to be an unnecessary and self-serving election call.
Chaotic news cycle
There are good reasons to believe that voters were mostly apathetic towards the parties and their candidates. Alongside the reasons already stated, the dense, chaotic and ever-shifting news cycle of the last few months may have entailed that this election was able to slip by quietly.
But this does not seem to be the full story, as this year’s turnout — while still low — is slightly higher than that of 2022. Instead, voters also seemed to have wanted to maintain the status quo.
On the local level, siting members of the provincial legislature from all three parties generally performed quite well. Of the 111 ridings with party-nominated incumbents, for example, only four lost. So while many voters may have been unhappy with the election call, the unpredictable environment may have also had the reverse effect of leading them to support, if not fully endorse, the leaders they already have.
Regardless of the more limited dynamics of this election, however, we cannot overlook the fact that this has been a very real accomplishment for Doug Ford and the Progressive Conservatives. In a period of high executive turnover and anti-incumbent backlash, Doug Ford has, as the leader of the Progressive Conservative Party of Ontario, brought about a track record of secure, consecutive majorities — a feat that was last attained by Leslie Frost and John Robarts.
In many ways, it brings to mind the years of the traditional “big blue machine,” when the party controlled the government of Ontario for 40 consecutive years.
Durable persona
Here, Ford’s success is much deeper than a matter of suave electoral maneuvering, and it is more long-standing than the recent confrontation with the Trump administration. Instead, these results attest to the fact that, while the Premier is not without his detractors, he has nevertheless managed to secure a stable, solid and sufficient base of support through the combination of both a carefully balanced policy agenda and a durable leadership persona.
As with his successful conservative predecessors, Ford practices a form of the pragmatic and moderate governance that characterizes Ontario. A large part of what makes this successful is the fact that while it makes policy decisions flexible, it does not make them arbitrary.
Ford continues to emphasize a government oriented around continual economic growth and innovation as a means to accomplish raising living standards, fund the province’s social programs and — more recently — rival the United States. Combined with Ford’s aptitude in retail politics this has created a clear and accessible political project supported by big developers, small business owners and private-sector workers’ unions.
In a political environment shaped by personality, Ford continues to suck up the majority of the political oxygen in Ontario. Even while a good portion of Ontarians may dislike Ford — he is far from the most popular of Canada’s premiers — they have not experienced an overriding need to get rid of the incumbent, nor pursue another course of change.
While politics is impossible to predict, it suggests that this state of continuity will persist in Ontario, even amid a chaotic global environment.
Sam Routley 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.
Conservatives now claim we are in the middle of a “movement” of workers away from the New Democratic Party, which has historically been seen as the party of labour, toward both federal and provincial conservative parties.
Former Conservative Party of Canada leader Erin O’Toole reached out to workers in the last federal election and current Conservative leader, Pierre Poilievre, continues to do so.
However, the actual extent of union support for Ford must be put into context. There is no evidence to suggest a major political re-alignment of unions with conservative parties. At the same time, the ability of Ford’s brand of populism to engage with a strategic transactionalism in some unions is a serious challenge to labour movement solidarity.
Local autonomy is part of a democratic labour movement, and many of the endorsements for Ford came from union locals, not the entirety of a union’s membership.
Some unions have policies of not endorsing any party, while others allow endorsements by union locals of individual candidates. More importantly, even if unions decide to endorse a candidate or party, individual members vote for whoever they want. Union members continue to vote in complex and contradictory ways, and they can be swayed by populist politicians as much as any other voter.
Right-wing populism presents a challenge to unions whose members are not isolated from populist politics. Ford’s brand of populism has proven effective in attracting and dividing organized labour, especially public versus private sector union members. He uses populist rhetoric to challenge public sector unions while making more moderate overatures to non-union and private sector workers.
This pivoting populism has proven effective. Promises of a “buck-a-beer” and allowing liquor into corner stores appeals to workers while potentially reducing unionized jobs at LCBO outlets and government revenue for health care and education.
Ford has also demonstrated the ability to shift his populist message when needed. He quickly positioned himself as a leading voice against tariffs proposed by United States President Donald Trump. He successfully engaged a nationalist economic populism defending workers, specifically in Ontario’s manufacturing sector.
Despite being caught saying he was “100 per cent” happy with Trump’s victory, he pivoted to a message that muzzled, at least temporarily, the racist, anti-immigrant, anti-transgender and anti-climate change sentiments of Trumpian populism.
Ford’s folksy rhetoric was flexible enough to maintain his appeal. Union leaders representing workers supportive of Ford, especially in the private sector, either felt pressure to reflect their members politics or were supportive themselves. As a result, some unions were more open to being transactional with the Ontario PCs than in the past.
Transactional approach to politics
In their recent book Shifting Gears, labour experts Stephanie Ross and Larry Savage document Unifor’s shift toward a more transactional approach when dealing with political parties. They argue the union abandoned its traditional party-union alliance with the NDP for more pragmatic relationships with those in power.
Transactional politics are increasingly practised by many unions, and Ford has used it to his advantage. Private sector unions in the building trades and hospitality industries that endorsed Ford have secured millions in training funds from the government.
Ford’s transactional relationships with unions are not without growing pains. Several unions that supported the Ontario PCs in the 2022 election condemned Bill 28, which would have removed the right to strike for 55,000 educational workers. After thousands walked off the job in response, the government withdrew the bill.
Here, we see a broader form of transactional politics in play. If Ford wanted to maintain even minimal union support, he had to recognize basic rights for unionized workers.
The current levels of union support for the Ontario PCs may have an exaggerated significance. After all, the Conservatives only slightly increased their popular vote and lost three seats, dropping to 80 from 83. Similarly, the NDP remains the official opposition, but had their seat count and popular vote diminished, while the Liberals increased both.
The future of labour
Shifting union support for political parties can have an impact, as unions have people and resources that can be allocated to campaigns. But there are limits to the union support conservative parties can build.
First, much of this support is driven by right-wing populism, which can fade over time. The traditional conservative business community can reinstate neoliberal policies that restricts unions and their power.
Second, transactional politics that use taxpayer money are expensive for governments. After all, not every union can be awarded a new training centre.
Perhaps the most significant implications are for the future of the labour movement itself. The politics between unions that collaborate with right-wing populists and those who are attacked by them remain divisive as labour leaders have publicly debated the issue. At what point will the fissures erupt and threaten overall solidarity?
It may be time for the labour movement to go on the offensive against support for right-wing populists among their own memberships — the unions giving endorsements in exchange for resources and the bare minimum, in terms of union recognition.
At this juncture, this will be a struggle. Union political education has always been a challenge, and it’s more difficult in the era of right-wing legacy and social media. Any attempt by central labour bodies, such as the Ontario Federation of Labour, to sanction or expel affiliates who support right-wing parties would have high political costs.
But accommodating, rather than confronting, right-wing populist sentiments among workers and maintaining inter-union solidarity may eventually lead to the movement and political realignment conservatives are hoping for.
Steven Tufts receives funding from the Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council of Canada. He also sits on the board of an organisation that has recevied past funding from the Ontario Skills Development Fund mentioned in the article.
The cost of living crisis, which saw inflation in the US peak at a four-decade high of 9.1% in 2022, played a significant role in determining the outcome of last November’s presidential election.
Exit polls across ten of the key battleground states showed 32% of voters considered the economy to be the most important election issue. Among that group of voters, a staggering 81% voted for Donald Trump.
Trump had spent most of his election campaign saying his administration would tackle high prices – even vowing to bring them down on day one. However, the latest figures suggest inflation in the US has increased since he took office, rising unexpectedly to a six-month high of 3% in January.
This rise is largely because of the economy Trump inherited. But some experts have expressed concerns that his stated economic strategy, including trade tariffs, major tax cuts and lower interest rates, will only add to inflation.
While tax cuts and interest rate changes are familiar policies, the use of tariffs has been less common in recent decades. These are used by governments to balance trade relationships or in retaliation to tariffs imposed by other countries. They generally make foreign imported goods more expensive while also raising tax revenues for governments.
The Trump administration has set tariffs of 25% on all steel and aluminium imports, and imposed 10% trade tariffs on a wide range of consumer imports from China. While proposed tariffs of 25% on imports from Mexico and Canada have been temporarily paused, the US has signalled its intention to introduce tariffs on imports from the European Union.
A General Motors car assembly facility in Ontario, Canada, where economists predict the proposed tariffs would have a catastrophic effect. JHVEPhoto / Shutterstock
Will tariffs lead to inflation?
Trump’s aides insist the tariffs won’t have a negative impact on American consumers and businesses. On February 18, Peter Navarro, senior counsel for trade and manufacturing at the White House, told the New York Times: “It’s not going to be painful for America. It’s going to be a beautiful thing.”
Navarro argues that foreign exporters, concerned about losing market share, will reduce the pre-tariff price they charge US importers.
But economic theory suggests that tariffs generally do lead to higher prices. Peter Lavelle, a trade expert at the UK’s Institute for Fiscal Studies, says that evidence from Trump’s first term – when tariffs were imposed on solar panels, washing machines, steel and aluminium – shows these costs were “almost entirely passed on to domestic consumers”, thus adding to inflation.
A key reason for the tariffs is to make US domestic manufacturing more competitive on the international stage. This could bring manufacturing jobs back to the US. Manufacturing employment declined by 35% in the US from its peak of 19.6 million in 1979 to 12.8 million in 2020.
However, there was no evidence of tariffs bringing manufacturing jobs back to the US during Trump’s first term. In fact, manufacturing employment remained static between 2017 and 2021.
There are fears that tariffs could instead trigger a trade war, where countries retaliate with tariffs of their own. Canadian officials, for instance, have made it clear they will introduce retaliatory tariffs on the US – “selected in order to hit particularly red and purple [Trump-supporting] states”.
Economists analyse such scenarios using game theory. A trade war takes the form of what economics-speak calls a “non-cooperating Nash equilibrium”, where the economic outcome is negative for all countries involved.
Some recent modelling on the impact of Trump’s proposed tariffs on Canada and Mexico supports this view. Tariff retaliation is likely to raise inflation rates even further than otherwise in all three economies.
A trade war could also squeeze profit margins for exporting producers in the US, by making some US-produced goods relatively more expensive. This would show up in lower real income through reduced employment and wages. This outcome, like higher prices, is unlikely to be popular with US voters.
Given the evidence from Trump’s first term, it is difficult to see how tariffs will be anything but inflationary. Trump’s proposed tax cuts valued at US$5-11 trillion would also add to inflationary pressures, as would the lower interest rates he has called for.
Ana Swanson, a trade and international economist at the New York Times, believes the threat of tariffs is being used merely as a negotiating strategy. However, like many other economists, Swanson sees uncertainty as the biggest impact of Trump’s tariff policy.
In a podcast on February 4, she said: “If you, as the business, are watching out for the threat of tariffs, are you going to make an investment in a new factory or hire new workers?” Uncertainty leads to reduced investment and lower growth.
Realistically, Trump was never going to bring down prices for US consumers. To do that would be deflationary, and economists generally fear deflation even more than inflation. Falling prices lead to deferred spending and can be devastating for economic growth.
The best outcome for US consumers is that prices increase at a slower rate, close to the US Federal Reserve’s inflation target of 2%. However, given the recent uptick in inflation, as well as Trump’s strategy of tariffs, tax cuts and lower interest rates, the direction of travel all points towards higher price rises.
Recent evidence from elections in many advanced economies shows that voters do not like inflation, and will punish administrations who are in power during inflationary periods.
Since inflation peaked in many advanced economies in 2022, more than 70% of incumbent administrations have been voted out of government. Trump should keep this in mind as he embarks on his quest to make America’s economy great again.
Conor O’Kane 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.
Elon Musk is wielding a chainsaw against US government departments, potentially culling tens of thousands of jobs, as part of a huge plan to shrink the government and slash federal spending.
This large-scale purge of public servants, coordinated through Musk’s Department of Government Efficiency (Doge), may end up creating one of the biggest employment cuts in US history. Tech company IBM laid off 60,000 people in 1993, and about 25,000 workers (some outside the US) lost their jobs when Lehman Brothers bank went bust in 2008, but this swathe of job losses could outstrip them both, with numbers predicted to hit around 300,000.
On Friday February 21, Musk sent a “productivity email” to all federal employees demanding that they summarise the work they’d done in the past week. President Donald Trump hailed Musk’s ultimatum as “ingenious” and echoed that failure to comply would mean that employees would be “semi-fired or fired”.
By the Monday, chaos reigned in Washington. The bedlam left career civil servants unsure of how, or even whether, to reply, marking the latest flashpoint in a tumultuous last month created by Doge and aimed at trimming the federal workforce. Adding insult to injury, Musk later admitted the email was a ruse to test whether federal workers “had a pulse”. A follow-up email is rumoured to be coming this weekend.
On X, Musk doubled down, posting an image of the cartoon character SpongeBob SquarePants looking at a “Got Done Last Week” list that included: “Cried about Trump, Cried about Elon, Cried about Trump and Elon some more.” Days earlier, at the annual gathering of the US right wing, the Conservative Political Action Conference, Musk brandished a chainsaw and screamed “Chainsaw!” to show the uproarious Maga crowd how he intended to eviscerate the federal bureaucracy.
Political payback?
Doge’s proposed job cuts are vast and deep. So far, much of Musk’s ire has been directed at the US Agency for International Development (USAid), where 4,700 employees have already been put on leave – with 1,600 of those positions terminated.
It’s perhaps no surprise that Doge started with this soft target. Although the US spends only about 1% of federal money on development aid, polls consistently show that Americans, especially Republicans, think Washington overspends on foreign assistance.
The cuts also come amid rising speculation that these firings could be part of a political retaliation by the White House. Influential adviser Stephen Miller claimed, without showing evidence, that 98% of workers at USAid “either donated to Kamala Harris or another leftwing candidate”.
The Trump administration has also forced out dozens of officials across the Federal Bureau of Investigation (FBI) and the Cybersecurity and Infrastructure Security Agency charged with investigating attempts at foreign interference in US elections.
Even the Pentagon, traditionally a “third rail” for Republican presidents when it comes to spending reductions, is feeling the squeeze. The US secretary of defense, Pete Hegseth, has promised to slash military spending by 8% over the next five years from its US$850 billion (£674 billion) annual budget. While US service members in uniform are currently exempt from job losses, many expect civilian workers, especially those in their probationary period, to be shown the door soon.
There are many thousands of federal jobs across the US.
Washington DC, which voted for former vice-president Harris over Trump by a margin of 92.5% to 6.6%, is home to the largest number of government jobs: about 2.2 million civilians. However, federal workers are spread across the US. That includes red states where Trump won in 2024. For example, there are more than 129,000 federal jobs in Texas, more than 94,000 in Florida, and more than 79,000 in Georgia.
For Trump, this complicates the Doge agenda to make a dent in America’s US$36 trillion (£28.6 trillion) debt through mass job terminations. While many Maga supporters cheered campaign pledges to eliminate government “waste, fraud and abuse”, many now confront the stark reality of job losses in their communities (or even their own jobs).
Trump has promised to get spending by the national government under control, but without addressing reform of essential services – such as Medicare and social security – it’s unclear how he can achieve this goal.
Backlash and legal battles
Public opinion towards Musk breaks sharply along partisan lines. According to recent polling by YouGov, 42% of Americans have a positive view of Musk (52% unfavourable), including 79% of Republicans but just 10% of Democrats. The same percentage, 42%, think favourably of Doge, with similar partisan divides. But the number of Americans who rate Musk positively has been dropping in the past few weeks, although he is seen as increasingly influential.
Contributing to negativity, Musk’s rollout of Doge to oversee cuts to the federal labour force hasn’t come without major flubs. For example, he recently fired (before un-firing) workers at the National Nuclear Security Administration, tasked with overseeing the country’s nuclear weapons stockpiles.
Even some Trump loyalists are pushing back. After Musk’s “document work or resign” email was blasted to the FBI, newly minted director Kash Patel sent his own message telling employees not to respond, declaring: “The FBI, through the Office of the Director, is in charge of all of our review processes.”
On X, Harvard political scientist Maya Sen called the reaction “probably a good development for the rule of law”, adding: “Musk got a head start but separate & distinct interests of new political appointees over their own workforces will clash more and more w/Musk.”
The Trump administration now faces mounting legal challenges to Doge’s agenda. An amended lawsuit filed by a cadre of unions, including the nation’s largest federation of unions, AFL-CIO, alleged that mass firings of probationary workers is illegal, and that only federal agencies have control over human resources decisions.
Beyond legal chokepoints, Musk confronts increasing scepticism – even within Doge itself. On Tuesday February 25, 21 employees from Doge resigned, saying they would not use their professional skills to “dismantle critical public services”.
Even among some Republican lawmakers, there’s worry about the breakneck speed of firings. Republican representative Jeff Van Drew, for example, said that “we have to be really careful that we’re cutting things that don’t hurt everyday people”. Some have criticised Musk’s flippant attitude toward longstanding public servants. Others think Musk is taking a hatchet to a problem that requires a scalpel.
Whether a hatchet, a scalpel or a chainsaw, Musk’s slash-and-burn approach carries risks. By the 2026 midterms (when 35 of the 100 Senate seats will be up for election), the picture of Musk gleefully slicing government jobs could be less a symbol of efficiency, more a symbol of Trump-era hubris.
Thomas Gift 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.
Donald Trump’s grab for Ukraine’s minerals, which the US president is demanding as compensation for his country’s wartime assistance to Kyiv, might seem like a new low in a week of US-Ukraine relations lows.
The latest draft of Trump’s “minerals deal” would grant the US substantial control of a new fund that would invest in Ukrainian reconstruction. The fund would receive 50% of the profits from the future monetisation of government-owned Ukrainian natural resources such as lithium and titanium, as well as coal, gas, oil and uranium.
This deal, despite offering no guarantee of continued US military support, is a slight improvement on Trump’s first offering. That bid would have imposed financial conditions on Ukraine harsher than those forced on Germany after the first world war.
However, the deal will still require future generations of Ukrainians to shoulder the cost of a war for which they bear no responsibility. Commentators, including British foreign minister David Lammy, have noted that it would be more just to seize frozen Russian assets and use them to cover the cost of repairing the damage Russia has wreaked across the country.
But, while many in the west have balked at Trump’s barefaced extractivism, his actions are entirely in line with the way western capitalists have approached Ukraine and its resources since the 19th century.
The Donbas region of Ukraine is a major coal mining and industrial area. deniks315 / Shutterstock
Ukraine’s east, referred to as Donbas, is often thought to have been industrialised in the 1930s, when Joseph Stalin was leading the Soviet Union. At this time, Donbas was marketed to the world as a symbol of proletarian superabundance. It was a place where miners and steelworkers exceeded their production quotas by 30 or 40 times.
But the development of industrial extraction in eastern Ukraine dates back much earlier and was powered, in part, by European capital and technology.
In the mid-19th century, when this part of Ukraine was controlled by the Russian empire, the Russian tsars opened the country’s borders to foreign capital investment in the hopes of accelerating its industrialisation drive. A series of fiscal measures were introduced that made it more attractive to foreigners to invest in the empire’s emerging industrial markets.
This encouraged a wave of economic migration from western Europe to all regions of the multinational state. Foreign capitalists often partnered with Russian business elites based in Saint Petersburg and other major cities and set about generating huge amounts of profit from the extraction of the empire’s valuable resources.
Donbas, with its wealth of minerals, was a region of particular interest for foreign capitalists. French, Belgian, German, Dutch and British industrialists all relocated to the region in the second half of the 19th century hoping to make their fortunes by excavating the region’s salt, chalk, gypsum, and coal. In fact, there was so much Belgian capital circulating at one point that Donbas became known as “the tenth Belgian province”.
Despite the paternalism of some foreign managers, the extraction of Ukraine’s minerals did little to improve the life of local communities. Rather, it contributed to the displacement of indigenous people and caused massive environmental and ecological damage.
Urban planning often replicated the segregated conditions of European colonies in Africa and India. Foreign settlers lived apart from local workers, in privileged housing located in better provisioned parts of town downwind of the toxic fumes of the blast furnaces and the chimney stacks.
In the settlement of Hughesovka (now known as Donetsk), which was named after the Welsh industrialist John Hughes, Welsh settlers attempted to reconstruct the trappings of British life on the Ukrainian steppe.
They built tennis courts and an Anglican church, arranged tea parties, and even had an amateur dramatics society. Meanwhile, the local workforce lived in abject poverty, often accommodated in barracks or mud dugouts.
In these dismal conditions, infectious disease and dissatisfaction were widespread. There are several reports of riots following large-scale outbreaks of cholera and local hospitals were reportedly overflowing.
Before Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine in 2022, this period of European capitalist exploitation was drawing considerable interest from researchers.
The “European” industrial heritage of Donbas was being used to tell different stories about the region and to highlight its complex, multicultural history. This heritage was seen to hold potential as a counter-narrative to the toxic “Russian world” propaganda emanating from the occupied territories, which maintains that Ukraine is an integral part of Russia’s historic sphere of cultural influence.
But there is a danger in being too romantic about this chapter in history. Foreign capitalist investment in the extraction of Ukrainian minerals was not a classic example of settler colonialism. However, it bore many similarities to western European colonial practices in other parts of the world at this time.
What this history reminds us is that Ukraine has long been located at the intersection of empires. And these empires have often collaborated to plunder the country’s resources, offering little or nothing in return.
We can see this kind of predatory collaboration of imperial and neo-imperial regimes once again taking shape. Russia’s leader, Vladimir Putin, is trying to tempt Trump away from a deal with Ukraine with promises of access to Ukraine’s rare earth minerals in the occupied territories.
We must continue to gather and protest, as many of us did on the three-year anniversary of the full-scale invasion this week, to resist such politics of resourcification.
Victoria Donovan’s research has received funding from the Arts and Humanities Research Council, 2019-2023.
A homeless man asleep in Edinburgh, where the author carried out research into the link between drug use and exploitation.Serge Bertasius Photography/Shutterstock
All names have been changed to protect the identities of interviewees.
Patrick is 32 years old and has been homeless on and off in Edinburgh since growing up in care. He speaks with a rasping quality due to the ravages of sleeping outdoors in cruel Scottish winters. Until recently, he was one of thousands of people in the UK trapped in exploitation, often referred to as modern slavery.
In the UK over the past five years, more than 59,000 people have been identified as possible victims of exploitation – sometimes having been trafficked into the country for this express purpose. Some are forced into criminal forms of labour, like growing marijuana, or put to work in agriculture, hospitality, care or construction in illegal conditions. Still more are trapped in private homes in what is termed “domestic servitude”.
And there is Patrick’s category, which is sexual exploitation.
Patrick began taking drugs at 14 years old while in care. Two years later, he was kicked out of the children’s home and met an older man who introduced him to gammahydroxybutrate, or “G” as Patrick calls it. This is known as a “chemsex” drug due to its ability to induce arousal and reduce inhibitions.
The dealer began having sex with him and taking him to sex parties with other men. Soon, Patrick was addicted to G and, over time – the precise length is unclear as, like many people who’ve experienced trauma and addiction, his memories are highly fragmented – the man began to control him. If Patrick wanted more G, he had to have sex with the older man or with other people he selected. Specific sex acts were demanded, regardless of Patrick’s consent.
This controlling behaviour escalated: if Patrick wanted heating in the room in which he slept, if he wanted access to electricity to charge his phone, if he wanted clean clothes or food, if he wanted to avoid being hit, sex was required.
“I never had a choice,” Patrick tells me about his time living in that house. “If I hadn’t got the drugs, I’d die.”
The man kept him on a chemical leash for years. He was not physically restrained in the house, and he had access to his own bank account and benefits payments. Sometimes he slept rough to escape the abuse – but he always returned, because he lived in fear of “rattling”, as he calls withdrawal.
It wasn’t just fear of the physical suffering involved in going without the drug. Patrick’s father murdered his mother when he was a small child. He describes his addiction as a chance to feel free of that trauma – to feel “like superman, like flying”.
Addiction was a driving force in Patrick’s exploitation. And he isn’t alone: several court cases involving the exploitation of homeless people have acknowledged the role of addiction in their victimisation.
In 2013, R v Connors found that the Connors family, which ran a casual construction business in Bedfordshire, had recruited homeless men into their service. The men were promised accommodation, food and reasonable wages, only to receive “something like £10 per day” – if they were paid at all. They worked long hours in poor conditions without necessary equipment or clothing, and “on occasion they were subjected to violence or the threat of violence”.
As a result, three members of the Connors family received custodial sentences of between four and 14 years. The court judgement noted that their victims “were chosen deliberately. Usually they were homeless, addicted to alcohol, friendless and isolated.”
Three years later, the case of R v Rooney found that 11 members of the Rooney family had victimised at least 18 people in Lincolnshire, forcing them to work without pay and to live in squalid conditions for up to 26 years. In one instance, they made a victim dig his own grave to force him to sign a contract of lifelong servitude. Nine members of the family were sentenced to jail, with most receiving sentences of five years or more.
After a subsequent unsuccessful appeal, the judge drew a direct link between victimisation, addiction and homelessness, stating: “The appellants were said to have manipulated and controlled these men by withholding pay [and] feeding their vulnerabilities and addictions, such as to alcohol or cannabis.”
It didn’t end there. In 2020, the office of the UK’s Independent Anti-Slavery Commissioner examined Operation Fort, “the UK’s largest anti-slavery prosecution”, which took four years to conclude. It found that some of the victims had been recruited from homeless shelters and were addicted to drugs or alcohol.
Illicit drug use is damaging large parts of the world socially, politically and environmentally. Patterns of supply and demand are changing rapidly. In our longform series Addicted, leading experts bring you the latest insights on drug use and production as we ask: is it time to declare a planetary emergency?
The role of addiction in all these cases is important to acknowledge – as is recognising that homelessness isn’t a singular thing. Some people experience homelessness only once; others are homeless repeatedly and for years. There are people for whom lacking shelter is the main measure by which they are disadvantaged, which differs to those who are “multiply excluded” or who have “severe and multiple disadvantages” – including histories of institutional care, substance dependency, and criminal records. And that’s without layering on additional factors such as race, ethnicity, sexuality and gender.
As part of my PhD research, I spent several months investigating Edinburgh’s street community, delving into homeless people’s experiences of exploitation, and finding out how and why these experiences occurred.
I chose to work exclusively with people who, like Patrick, were either British or had migration statuses that afforded them the same rights as British people (such as access to benefits). Other statuses – like being an asylum seeker, being on highly restrictive work visas or being undocumented – are widely recognised to make people more vulnerable to being exploited. Removing this factor enabled me to focus on victimisation that could not be explained by immigration policy, and which might point to new or under-explored territories.
I uncovered many cases like Patrick’s: homeless British people who had been exploited. But I also met people who were homeless and had not been exploited. And one of the main differences was addiction. Everyone who had been exploited while homeless had a substance dependency. And it seemed to be this, more than homelessness, which had put them in harm’s way.
Debt bondage on the streets of Edinburgh
Like Patrick, Paul is a white Scottish man in his 30s. He began sofa-surfing at the age of 11 after leaving his abusive family home. Since then, his life has been chronically chaotic: rough sleeping, prison, time in hostels, social housing and back again. Addiction has been the sole stable feature – in his case, a heroin habit which started “when I was 22, in prison”.
Paul has done various things for money over the years: begging (but only once because “I couldn’t deal with the shame of sitting down with people I knew walking past”); house-breaking (“shit stuff I wish I could take back”); shoplifting and reselling (“bacon, cheese, booze, anything that was more expensive”); and also drug running. It was this last method where he got into trouble.
A homeless man sleeping outside a branch of Barclays bank in Princes Street, central Edinburgh. Serge Cornu/Shutterstock
Paul was shoplifting and wasn’t making much money when he “got an offer” to become a drug runner instead. Although movies would have us believe that most modern slavery is the result of kidnapping or abduction, it’s usually the result of a subtler process. The potential victim is offered something they need, such as money or passage to a different country, and it goes wrong.
For Patrick and Paul, what they needed was drugs. Paul accepted the offer and began working as a runner, taking drugs from the dealer’s house to the customers and risking arrest on the way. He was paid in small amounts of heroin for his personal use. Looking back, he sees the dealer as “basically getting me deeper and deeper into trouble”, by escalating his addiction and using it as a control mechanism to keep him working – like the chemical leash experienced by Patrick.
For Jack, a third Scottish homeless man, it was worse. Initially, he bought drugs (both heroin and crack cocaine) using cash, but then a dealer began giving him more than he could afford. “I’d say I only want a half-ounce … and he’d say nah, he’s gonna give me the full one.”
Over time, Jack’s debt grew. He tried to repay it by working as a drug runner for the man, but the money could never be paid off. This was partly because he always needed his next hit, but also because the dealer was inflating the debt each time. There was no way out.
The dealer was also, according to Jack, “quite a fuckin’ scary bloke” – which turned out to be Jack’s way of disclosing that he had been threatened when he tried to leave for a different dealer. At least once, he had been hit.
The Gangmasters and Labour Abuse Authority describes debt bondage as when “an employer or controller will use different tactics to trap the victim in an endless cycle of debt which can never be repaid”. In Jack’s case, as with others in my investigation, it was a particular instrumentalisation of that chemical leash.
“We call it ‘in your pocket’,” Jack explains. “That’s what they say: ‘I’ve got him in my pocket now.’”
Paul and Jack had experienced localised permutations of what government and police call county lines – the transporting of drugs by children or vulnerable adults under coercion.
It may have a special label, but this is a normal part of the drug dealing business model. When I recount Paul’s and Jack’s experiences to Ryan, another homeless Scottish man who is familiar with the drug economy thanks to his dealer dad, he snorts: “Well aye, obviously.”
Into the arms of would-be exploiters
Patrick, Paul and Jack had all been exploited within the drug economy in one way or another, and this is where government-approved county lines strategies are focused. But addiction drives exploitation more broadly than the drug sector itself; as in the Rooney and Connors cases, legal employment sectors including construction and farmwork are subject to addiction-fuelled exploitation too.
When Jack was approached to paint scaffolding poles for £80 a day, he jumped at the chance – it looked like good money for an easy task. But the job wasn’t what it seemed. The recruiter knew Jack was an addict and dropped him off alone at a warehouse with a bag of speed, so he would work through the night with no sleep. This happened for four weekends in a row, with the man alternating between treating Jack well (“made me feel like I was ‘the man’”) and frightening him (“he pure intimidated me”). The £80 per day never materialised.
In Paul’s case, he was offered farmwork by a man outside a soup kitchen he frequented. Paul says he didn’t trust the guy “just from looking at him … and the way he went about it, like strolling up to a homeless place. That’s where most serial killers go to get victims.”
Paul was warned off by street acquaintances who’d heard of people being treated badly at the farm. “They were living in, basically, homeless situations – in a barn or something with no heating and stuff like that, being worked when the guy says … You’ve no money to get home, you don’t know where you are.”
Yet even with this information, when it happened a second time, Paul decided to go. He needed money for his heroin habit. Thankfully, he was too slow to say yes and he lost out to two other men. He doesn’t know what happened to them.
When Paul and I met, he was staying off heroin, thanks to methadone and various other prescription drugs. I asked what he’d do if someone approached him with the same kind of job offer now. He said he’d decline; he no longer needs the money for heroin.
Video: BBC Scotland.
Lorraine, in her 40s and also Scottish, spent years doing sex work. She’d been in various situations during that time, including being deceived into brothel work based on potential earnings which turned out to be untrue, and being pimped by someone who “was supposed to be a friend”.
When we met, Lorraine was no longer doing sex work for anyone but herself. I asked what had changed. Along with getting a place in an emergency shelter, she said it was “because I’m not using [drugs], you know; I’m not using any more. I used to be a prolific crack and heroin addict.”
Paul and Lorraine aren’t alone. Nearly everyone I’ve interviewed draws a direct line between the high cost of illegal drugs and the likelihood of being exploited. In contrast, those who’ve got clean are free from coercion and able to get by on their benefits – benefits they receive, in general, for severe mental health conditions and learning disabilities.
Can criminals be victims too?
Ryan was right when he snorted “aye, obviously” to me: the link between addiction and exploitation should be plain to see. There are passing mentions of addiction issues among homeless survivors peppered in the Rooney, Connors, Operation Fort and other case documents. So why had all bar one of the people whom I met, and who shared their stories of exploitation with me, not been flagged as possible victims by services?
The one exception to this rule offers some answers.
Piotr came to the UK after seeing an advert for a job in a car garage. He liked that first job. Even though it paid lower than the minimum wage, it was enough to meet his needs and the boss was reasonable. But when that garage closed and his long-distance marriage broke down, Piotr relapsed into alcoholism. He needed to find a new job so he could fund his daily intake.
Another garage owner who was aware of Piotr’s dependency offered him work. They didn’t make an agreement about money, but Piotr told me he’d hoped to get around £20 a day plus some food or cigarettes. That may sound bad to people accustomed to legal minimum wages, but the reality turned out much worse.
Piotr wasn’t paid at all. He slept in a caravan on the garage site, and if he wanted to use gas or electricity, he had to pay for it … with no wages. He told me how the boss would shout at him, and sometimes hit him too.
Thankfully, after around a year, Piotr was able to leave and, during the period we met, he was working somewhere that treated him better and paid him consistently – though still below the legal minimum.
It was while Piotr was working at this new and better place that homelessness support workers encountered him and began to wonder whether he’d been exploited. The fact they were correct isn’t the point here; rather, why had they flagged his victimisation but not Patrick’s, Paul’s, Lorraine’s or Jack’s? And what might this tell us about homelessness and exploitation more broadly?
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The answer may lie in a concept introduced nearly 40 years ago by criminologist Nils Christie. The “ideal victim” is the notion that we’re more willing to view some people as victims than others. Christie suggested various criteria that make people more likely to receive the social label of “victim”: including that they’re weaker than the perpetrator; that they’re carrying out a respectable project at the time of the harm occurring; and that their general behaviour is blameless – namely, they were doing nothing illegal nor putting themselves at risk.
In this analysis, it should be obvious that Patrick, Paul, Lorraine and Jack are all non-ideal victims. Most have been in prison, some multiple times, and all regularly commit crimes by taking drugs or earning money in illegal (drug running, stealing) or semi-legal (sex work) ways. In contrast, Piotr does none of these things.
But while social bias goes against viewing Patrick, Paul, Lorraine and Jack as victims, empirical data tells us otherwise. Studies show that “engagement in offending behaviour is one of the strongest correlates of victimisation”. Substance abuse in particular is recognised to put people at greater risk of becoming victims of crime.
Yet the support workers I interviewed make it clear that, in general, their homeless clients are not asked about their various criminal activities. Their rationale varied: some felt that asking probing questions about these activities might harm their relationship, making clients suspicious of their motives and damaging their ability to support them. Others felt it was simply none of their business how or whether clients earned money illegally, either because of their perceived remit of their work, or because they viewed the activities as distasteful or shameful.
Drinking alcohol was safe to ask about, as was working in legal sectors like car garages – but not heroin, not crack cocaine, not G, not sex work, not drug running, and so on.
Paradoxically, then, the very aspects of someone’s life which may instinctively put off support workers, police, medical professionals and others from viewing them as possible victims are the same aspects which make them more at risk of victimisation.
Compounding this, Piotr is not British while all the others are. There is very limited data on exploitation in the homelessness community but, according to information published by the charities Unseen and The Passage, most people who are identified as victims of exploitation have been migrants. Two-thirds of those highlighted by the latter have “no recourse to public funds”, a particularly precarious form of migration status which bans people from accessing benefits and other forms of social assistance.
In theory, this should have meant that my investigation – which excluded anyone in that precarious category, solely interviewing British people or migrants who have the same protections as UK citizens – wouldn’t have easily found victims. But when I spent lots of time getting to know people living on the streets of Edinburgh, I found this wasn’t the case.
That doesn’t mean Unseen or The Passage are wrong in their activities or data, far from it. Victimisation is not a zero-sum game: multiple categories of homeless people can be at especially high risk. Rather, it brings an additional population into view for deeper consideration.
A tent pitched in New Calton burial ground in Calton Hill, Edinburgh. Fotokon/Shutterstock
Following Christie’s concept, academics have considered how migration and victimhood intersect, noting that migrants’ perceived “weakness, frailty and passivity” aligns with the ideal victim idea. On exploitation specifically, a great deal of research and action has taken place to highlight the ways in which the UK’s “hostile environment” migration policy renders migrants vulnerable to exploitation.
This combination of perception and policy makes it plausible that homeless people of foreign origin are more easily recognised as victims than people who have remained in the area in which they grew up, like the Scottish people encountered in my investigation – and especially those exhibiting some of the other “unideal” factors I’ve described.
What does this mean?
The finding that addiction is an important driver of exploitation among the homeless community offers guidance for targeted intervention. People who are homeless and have substance dependencies should be considered higher risk for exploitation than people who are homeless without addictions.
While there are many factors which contribute to victimisation, and this article is the product of a broader body of research, it does offer a strong indication of one place we should look for harm.
Second, police and other frontline services should consider biases that may be blinding them to some victims, specifically British people with offending records.
Third, my investigation points to a broader question: if addiction is driving vulnerability to exploitation, what does this mean for drug and alcohol policy? In England, funding of local council addiction services has halved over the past ten years; while in Scotland as well as England and Wales, the high rate of drug-related deaths demonstrates a desperate need for more intervention.
Meanwhile, the National Police Chiefs’ county lines policing strategy for 2024-2027 doesn’t mention addiction even once. There is a glaring need for a better-funded, more joined-up approach to understanding and addressing addiction, thereby reducing exploitation crimes.
Going further, one useful response could be the UK-wide introduction of “safe consumption rooms”, whose main purpose is to reduce drug-related harms including contamination and overdose. After much political debate, the first such facility in Scotland, called the Thistle and located in Glasgow, opened on January 13 2025.
Video: Channel 4 News.
In the context of exploitation, these safe consumption rooms could remove the obstacle of illegality from identification. In a space in which drug-taking is explicit, people may feel safer to disclose harm, and support workers may feel safer to probe into people’s lifestyles.
This builds on my forthcoming study, to be published in a collection from Amsterdam University Press. It shows how health clinics and social spaces that are explicitly run by and for sex workers, and which have no links to policing, are able to identify victims of exploitation who have otherwise gone unnoticed or avoided sharing their victimisation out of fear of being criminalised, because of their involvement with the sex industry or their migration statuses. By creating safe spaces free from judgement or criminalisation, we open new opportunities for support.
Being able to regulate drugs by decriminalising them may also be beneficial. It would not remove the problem – alcohol is legal and Piotr was still exploited – but it could blunt the instrumentalisation of addiction by would-be exploiters, making it harder to construct “drug debt bondage” like that experienced by Jack, and more difficult to hold the threat of imposed withdrawal over victims, as experienced by Patrick.
So far, the Labour government appears to be continuing this disappointing track record. In its election manifesto, it pledged to introduce “a new offence of criminal exploitation of children, to go after the gangs who are luring young people into violence and crime”. But this reinforces the “ideal victim” problem: children are innocents, but what of their adult, addicted counterparts? And what about the drug policies underlying this illicit economy?
Since taking office, and as we approach the ten-year anniversary of the UK’s “world-leading” Modern Slavery Act, the government has committed to a “holistic victim-centred approach”, but there is no indication that this will include people like Patrick, Paul and Jack.
We have known the factors driving modern slavery for years. This investigation provides more evidence that we must address drug policy and addiction support as part of any effective strategy to reduce the deeply damaging effects of exploitation.
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Emily Kenway receives funding from the University of Edinburgh and is on the boards of National Ugly Mugs (trustee) and the New Economy Organisers Network (chair). She is the author of Who Cares: The Hidden Crisis of Caregiving, and How We Solve It (Headline, 2023), which was a finalist for the Orwell Prize for Political Writing.
We often set ambitious goals, such as going to the gym, adopting healthier eating habits, or reducing our social media use. However, despite our best intentions, staying committed can often feel like an uphill battle.
A review of evidence published in 2024 highlights why. While understanding the benefits of behaviour change and believing in its value are important, these play only minor roles. The strongest determinant of our ability to shift how we act everyday is our habits.
As the 19th and 20th-century philosopher William James put it, we are essentially “bundles of habits”. He believed that these habits could hold people back from achieving their full potential. If he were around today, he would probably be concerned at the way some people mindlessly check their phones every five minutes.
In a recent academic review, my colleagues and I at Trinity College Dublin illustrated that habits are governed by a delicate balance between two distinct brain systems. One system drives automatic responses to familiar cues in the environment, while the other enables the control of behaviour directed towards goals.
This interplay helps explain why we might mindlessly scroll through social media when bored, yet still retain the ability to deliberately put our phones away to focus on work. We reviewed decades of research from laboratory studies and real world settings for the study. Here, we share five practical strategies to help you build positive habits and break negative ones.
1. Forget the 21-day myth
Forget the 21-day rule – there is no magic number. This rule refers to a popular perception that it takes 21 days to form a new habit. Habit formation is different for every person.
In one study, habit formation such as having a piece of fruit with lunch was estimated to take 66 days on average, but it varied widely between individuals, from 18 days to 254 days.
It also depends on the specific habit itself. A study demonstrated this using a subset of AI called machine learning. The study analysed more than 12 million gym visits and 40 million instances of hospital handwashing to understand how habits form.
The research found that forming a gym habit typically takes months, while hospital staff can develop a handwashing habit in just weeks. No matter how long it takes, the key is sticking with it, even if you miss a day here and there.
2. Make rewards your ally
Your brain learns to repeat behaviour that is rewarding. One study examining people’s intake of water throughout the day found that it was more of a habit for people who perceived it as more rewarding.
The habit loop can also be reinforced through external rewards, such as treating yourself to something enjoyable after completing a workout.
Rewards are also important for breaking habits. If scrolling through social media becomes a way to unwind, try replacing it with an alternative activity that provides a similar sense of relaxation and enjoyment.
By substituting a positive behaviour, you not only avoid feeling deprived but also create a competing response to the old habit, making it easier to break the cycle.
3. Stack your habits
The brain has a natural tendency to combine different actions and respond to contextual cues – the kind that help people understand their surroundings. A strategy called habit stacking takes advantage of this by linking a desired behaviour to something you already do.
For example, research on flossing found that people who flossed immediately after brushing their teeth were more likely to establish a lasting habit. The existing cue – brushing your teeth – serves as a reminder, making the new habit – flossing – feel like a natural part of your routine.
So, if you want to start meditating, pair it with your morning coffee. Sip your coffee, then meditate for five minutes. Over time, the two types of behaviour become intertwined, making it easier to stick with your goals.
4. Watch out for stress
When life gets overwhelming, many of us find ourselves falling back into old habits, even ones we thought we had moved past. Acute and chronic stress can shift the balance away from controlled goal directed behaviour towards the automatic response system in the brain.
A functional magnetic resonance imaging (fMRI) study revealed that prolonged stress in humans leads to an over-reliance on the brain’s circuits that drive habits, while suppressing the prefrontal cortex, which governs deliberate decision making.
The good news? These effects are reversible. After a six week stress-free period, participants returned to goal directed behaviour, and their brain activity normalised.
5. Plan for weak moments
We like to set new ambitious goals when we feel motivated. Motivational changes are often initiated based around time, such as the start of a new year, a phenomenon known as the “fresh start effect”. But it is important to be strategic and prepare for situations when motivation is low and we still want to work towards our goals.
A powerful strategy for overcoming these weak moments is to plan ahead for specific situations by saying, “If I find myself reaching for a snack when I’m stressed, then I will take a five-minute walk instead.” This strategy is generally referred to as “if-then” plans.
This approach helps to preemptively trigger a healthier response in those moments when bad habits might otherwise take over.
So, while it might seem difficult, if you’re looking to rid yourself of a bad habit or replace it with a good one, our research suggests it’s possible to change your behaviour using strategies based on scientific evidence.
Eike Buabang receives funding from the Government of Ireland Postdoctoral Fellowship Programme.
At the heart of the BBC’s new series Miss Austen is a fictional Cassandra Austen (played by Keeley Hawes). Reviews have stressed that the real life Cassandra’s destruction of her sister Jane Austen’s letters has been considered one of the greatest acts of literary vandalism in history. These letters would have provided an invaluable insight into the author who died so young.
Why Cassandra destroyed her sister’s correspondence – and what she destroyed – cannot be known. But Miss Austen gives us intriguing speculation. It deals with family relationships, and with what gets passed down to subsequent generations.
In Miss Austen, Mary Austen is considering encouraging her son James Edward to write a biography of his literary father and aunt. Cassandra must find her sister’s letters before they get into the wrong hands. What happens next is a clever blend of fact and fiction.
James Edward Austen-Leigh did publish the first full biography of his aunt with the help of his sisters, although not until 1869.
However, the series also deviates from fact in its depiction of an incident in Jane’s life in the early 1800s. She may have met a young gentleman at a seaside resort in Devon. This young man may have admired Jane and she may have admired him in turn.
This story was recounted to James Edward Austen-Leigh by his sister when he was preparing a second edition of his Jane Austen memoir. She had been told the story by Cassandra and, though she could not remember the young man’s name, she knew he died shortly after Jane’s encounter with him.
Miss Austen picks up on the suggestion of Jane’s shadowy seaside encounter, locates the events firmly in Sidmouth, names the gentleman Mr Hobday and gives the encounter an intriguing twist by making it Cassandra’s, not Jane’s, romance.
Jane Austen might have enjoyed this fictionalisation.
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A love of fiction and an aversion to history
In the concluding paragraphs of Mansfield Park (1814), Austen’s narrator purposely abstains from dates, “that every one may be at liberty to fix their own”. In Northanger Abbey, the heroine Catherine Morland has no taste for “real, solemn History.” Instead, the novels of Maria Edgeworth and Frances Burney are championed as “works in which the greatest powers of the mind are displayed”.
Miss Austen’s Jane is played by Patsy Ferran as witty, acerbic and, crucially, devoted to fiction. She is utterly determined to become a published author and her family support her in this pursuit. This Austen is true to the version of the author that scholars and biographers have presented in recent years.
Jane Austen’s novels are not about the union of one couple. They explore communities and dependence, particularly that of women. Foremost in these explorations are sisterly bonds.
In Austen’s fiction, these bonds may indeed be mutually supportive and fulfilling. But they are always complex too. It is the truth of these complexities that the series Miss Austen captures so beautifully, via Isabella Fowle and her relationship with her sisters, and of course via Cassandra’s relationship with hers.
This adaptation should send viewers to read Gill Hornby’s novel, and to read and reread Jane Austen. Miss Austen embraces the possibilities of fiction in rethinking the lives of the past.
I hope viewers of Miss Austen will think more favourably about the real Cassandra too.
She kept letters and Jane’s manuscripts, leaving them to her nieces on her death. Jane and Cassandra had six brothers.
She was not the only one who had letters that gave insight into Jane Austen’s mind. She must have also written countless more to her other brothers and their wives, her nieces and nephews and her friends.
Many of these are now lost to us. But Cassandra’s curation of her sister’s correspondence can be seen in a positive light when we reflect on what she preserved in relation to what was lost.
Gillian Dow 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.
